#this is probably why I've also been struggling so hard to write

[lavendertales]

Welp, this is it.

In spite of struggling to write, I pushed through because writing is a huge part of my life, and I miss it. I miss writing, I miss sharing my creations with others.

But I won't be writing for any of Pedro's characters anymore. I'm officially done with the fandom. If the deepfake from months ago didn't faze me, all the stuff I see lately, from the comments to the posts & others did the trick. I don't feel as though I can find the proper space in this fandom anymore, and my creativity has taken a big hit.

It's gotten to a point where if it's not mass speculations about his sexuality, then it's weird & creepy comments on him or just a general sense of grossness. Filtering and blocking can only do so much. And don't get me started on the struggle of interaction and such.

My existing works will remain up, but no new content for this fandom will be posted. Maybe I'll write for other characters, should my inspiration ever return, or maybe I'll focus solely on my book.

I'm still very grateful for all the connections I've made, all the fun times and the good kind of crazy and all the excitement way back in 2019/2020. I love you all 💖

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[novelconcepts]

i don't make resolutions, but if i did

it would be to finish this fic

(and to be kind to myself for however long it takes to actually do so)

[evasive-anon]

Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower

Fanon vs Canon

We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.

What I'm addressing:

What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Did Jason drug all the other Titans?

Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?

Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?

Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?

Was Tim crying or scared?

Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?

Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?

Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.

What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.

Look at these opening lines:

Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.

Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.

There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:

You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.

TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.

What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.

Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*

Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?

Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.

Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.

Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?

Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.

Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?

No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.

Does Jason break Tim's staff?

Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.

Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭

Tim crying/ being scared?

Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.

Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.

Message on the wall in Tim's blood?

TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.

Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.

Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?

Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Fault Lines Ch. 1

request: wanted to know if you could write something where the reader is a ex-winter solider (just like bucky, but maybe she doesn't lose her arm) and how she struggles to accept Joaquin. An overall angst to fluff.

pairing: joaquin torres x ex-super soldier!f!reader

contents: canon typical violence, blood mention, illusions to abuse and torture, ptsd and other mental illness, enemies to lovers, angst

wc: 1,479

an: this series is based off of this request here! this series has truly poured out of me and is nearly done, and with all the other bits i've been writing, i'm probably just going to post it as quickly as i can as not to lose steam. i hope yall like it, i'm a little nervous as i've avoided writing this time of character before in fear i wouldn't do her justice. pls be kind!

fault lines masterlist

Someone has been ahead of Sam and Joaquin at every turn. Once might’ve been luck. Twice was suspicious. Three times? That meant someone else was hunting Hydra too—and winning.

And while Sam, Joaquin, and everybody at S.H.I.E.L.D wanted Hydra wiped out, they also wanted to know who was doing it and why.

They don’t know where this person is getting their intel. A mole, a hacked database, or maybe just a particularly desperate, sloppy faction of Hydra. Either way, it’s getting frustrating—because every time Sam and Joaquin show up, ready to extract information, all they find are bodies cooling in pools of blood.

Not today. Today’s a setup.

There’s snow on the ground, crunching beneath their boots as they grow closer to the rendezvous point. It’s still falling, freckling their dark clothing as they slip between the trees, far enough from each other to not garner attention but close enough in case things go awry. 

“Whoever this is, they’re dangerous,” Sam mutters, voice low in Joaquin’s earpiece. He scans the abandoned Hydra hideout from the cover of a half-collapsed outhouse, gunpowder and metal still thick in the air. “They’re calculated. They know what they’re doing.”

“So do we,” Joaquin counters, shifting his weight as he waits for the signal to continue moving through the treess.

“Yeah, but listen. As far as we know, it’s one person. And they’ve taken down whole squads of Hydra. No stray casualties. No blood spilled but the ones they were after. Who do you know that can do that?”

“If you let me upgrade the suit—”

“I’m serious, Joaquin,” Sam cuts in, sharp. No room for their usual back-and-forth. “Whoever this is doesn’t just have tech. They have something else. It’s inhuman.”

Joaquin swallows hard, the words settling in his chest like a weight. Sam’s instincts are good. If he thinks something’s off, it is.

The plan is simple: lay low, watch the meeting point where Hydra’s last known contacts are supposed to regroup, and wait for their mystery hunter to show up. If things go south, they intervene.

Joaquin already has a feeling this won’t be clean. Minutes pass. The winter wind howls through the wreckage, biting at their cheeks and rattling loose metal. 

It’s subtle. A shadow flickers at the edge of his vision.

Joaquin goes still with focus, eyes locking onto your figure as you slip through the ruins with silent precision. Even with the snow on the ground you don’t make a sound, its almost as if you’re floating. You move like a ghost—controlled, effortless. A hood hides your face, but everything else—your stance, the sharpness of your movements—radiates readiness. Like you’re expecting a fight.

He sees your shoulders rise and fall and then, you strike.

Hydra operatives barely have time to react before they’re taken down with brutal efficiency. A knife flashes once, twice—only when necessary. The rest fall under precise, bone-breaking force. No wasted movement. No hesitation. It’s methodical. Programmed into muscle memory long ago.

Joaquin feels his stomach turn, not even the cold air can keep his head clear. He’s seen this before. This kind of combat. The precision, the control. The lack of wasted effort.

“Sam,” he whispers, tension winding tight in his spine. “This isn’t just some ex-agent cleaning up loose ends.”

“I know,” Sam says grimly. “I’ve seen that kind of fighting before.”

The last Hydra operative collapses with a wet groan. Blood pools at your feet, staining the snow but it doesn’t phase you as you remove your knives from bodies and clean them on your sleeve. You pause, breath steady, then turn your head slightly, surveying the space around you. You can feel them watching. 

Sam doesn’t hesitate. He moves first because he knows the last thing they need is for you to find them first. That only ends in more blood. “We’re up.”

The second they step forward, you react like you were trained to. Like a cornered, wild animal. Your body pivots fast, hand already reaching for another knife—but Sam raises his hands in a rare show of non-hostility.

“Easy,” he says. “We’re not Hydra.”

“I know who you are,” you cut in. Your voice is even, but the weight behind it is enough to make Joaquin’s pulse jump. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Because yeah, you know exactly who Sam Wilson is. You know his green little sidekick, too. And more than that, you know his boyfriend—how he went from committing some of the worst atrocities Hydra ever assigned to shaking hands with senators. How his sins were washed clean because he had the right people to vouch for him.

You don’t have people like that. You’re not Bucky Barnes. And you don’t think you want to be.

“You have to hear it,” Sam says, regret laced through his voice. “Or we’re gonna have to take you in.”

You scoff. “Try it.”

Joaquin takes a slow breath as Sam glances at him. A silent you’re up.

You’re quiet, weighing your options. And then, with an almost imperceptible shift, you move. Fast. One second, Joaquin is standing his ground and the next, he’s dodging a strike that would’ve knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Damn, alright, shit—” he manages, stumbling back, hands up. “Hold up. Hold up. We’re the good guys here.”

You don’t lower your stance, but you hesitate when he doesn’t try to fight back. It’s slight, but Joaquin sees it. Despite your speed, your breathing is even. Controlled. Regimented.

He exhales slowly, heart still hammering. “You haven’t killed a single innocent person. That tells me you’re not the monster they tried to make you.”

Your face shifts for a moment but whatever is there is too fast for Joaquin to name. His voice softens. “I’ve seen people who fight like you. You were trained to be something you didn’t ask to be. That’s not who you are, right?”

His words somehow sneak their way past the walls you've put up and strike you in your heart. Because he’s right, you didn’t ask for it and its not who you are. Its who you were made to be and you’re just finishing the job. He sees it in the way your shoulders shift, in the microexpression you aren’t able to hide this time.

After a long beat, you lift a hand and push your hood back— he can see you clearly anyway. “No, it’s not.”

Joaquin’s breath catches.

He wonders if this is what it felt like for Sam when he and Bucky finally were able to connect and see each other as human. He can feel the weight of all you’ve experienced and all you haven’t just in once glimpse. From it, Joaquin feels nothing but sadness for you, imagining all you endured in your captivity. 

“Come with us.”

Sam steps forward. “Whoa, Joaquin–” 

You give them both a bitter smile, cutting Sam off, “Don’t worry, captain, I‘d rather die of frostbite out here anyway.”

“You're not helping.” Joaquin scolds you, looking between the two of you before pulling Sam to the side, his expression confused. “Sam, c’mon. What would Bucky do?”

“Don’t bring him into this, man.”

“I didn’t bring him into this, he is this.”

“He was,” Sam says firmly. 

“He was, and you helped him out.”

Sam sighs– Joaquin was right. It hadn’t started out that way, Sam had needed Bucky’s help. He doesn’t even remember when or how the lines began to blur; he just knew that when he was with Bucky things felt…right. They’d been lucky though, finding that in each other.

 “So what, you wanna try to save her?”

“Don’t you?”

You clear your throat behind them, and they both turn around to meet your gaze. “One; I can hear you. Two; I don’t need saving.”

“I bet you could use some back up though,” Sam insists, looking at you over Joaquin’s shoulder. “Whatcha think about that?”

He’s not wrong. You could benefit from a free ammo re-up. It’d be nice to sleep in a place where you know there are harmless, good guys. Where the walls don’t morph into haunting faces and close in on you. 

“I think there better be a hot shower and meal for me when we get there,” You start towards their tracks but when you don’t hear them moving you glance over your shoulder at them. “You princesses coming?”

“How’d you know which way?” Joaquin asks, brows knitting together.

“The tracks,” You answer easily, taking a couple more steps in that direction. You hear a soft purr. “And now the engine.”

Sam glares at Joaquin. “You left the car running?”

The two start their usual bicker and you lead the back, wondering what you’ve just gotten yourself into. Maybe something as good as what Bucky’s got— most likely none of that and more pain. That’s all you’ve ever known.

> ch. 2

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[yaut-jaknowit]

Hello can I have an ask about reader who came from our world who is a big fan of predators who can read, write and speak their language and fight like them too gets teleported to yautja prime and I guess she was looking around for shelter and she found a clan so she entered their clan grounds hoping she doesn't get killed and she found a pyramid (from what I remember seeing in one of the movies) which turns out to be where the clan has its important meetings. And the elder clan leader let's call him Kar'dokh (if you don't mind) was having meeting with other nearby clans so reader accidently enters the meeting room filled with other clan leaders and their most trusted soldiers standing by their side and the silence was LOUD

Reader: .... 

Kar'dokh and the other clan leaders: .... 

*Kar'dokh gets up about to kill her*

*Reader speaks in yautja*: wait I mean no harm I swear!! 

And like all of the yautjas were flabbergasted to find this out and they were suspicious of her cause how does a human know so much about their people? (cause in the world no human ever went to yautja prime) so word got out and everyone wanted to see the human including people from other clans, so fast forward reader and kar'dokh got close -e ends up liking her try's courting her but she pretends to be oblivious to it

Kar'dokh: ooman

Reader: yes? 

Kar'dokh: why do you refuse to be my mate? Am I not a worthy enough male for you? I have you know I have strong seed to sire strong pups so why do you refuse me? 

Reader: what...? What do you...huh? Kar'dokh you are an alien I wouldn't even be able to give you children! 

Kar'dokh: my people's technology can fix that issue so be my mate

Reader: I... I can't 

Kar'dokh: and why not? 

Reader: because I'm human!!! 

Kar'dokh: not valuable reason. Try again

Reader: why do you even like me!?!? Kar'dokh: because I am attracted to you

Reader: *tip toe’s and manages to grab him by the shoulders* raise your standard!!!!

Kar'dokh: *slams hand into metal and puts a deep dent into it then proceed to grab her by the risk*

AND BOOM he pounces on her, corners her against the wall gets her to confess her feelings and they do the super Spicy boombayah doggie style😉

And she somehow got pregnant a few days later 

SORRY FOR IT BEING LONG!!!!! 

To Another Realm

Pairings: Kar'dokh (male yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5271

Summary: After being transported to another realm where yautjas are real, you learn to survive. With the help of Kar'dokh. A clan leader of a strong tribe. If it wasn't for him, you would've been long dead your first day. Close proximity and his help made the two of you grow close. To the point there was no space between you two.

Author Note: IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS. I've been so busy. Work just changed my 6-2 to a 10-6 and I'm now moving an hour away. So I'll be taking a small break as well for that for writing probably. Maybe... I don't know.

Also! I do have a patreon now: link There are three tiers. Those get the post earlier. Everything will still come out. I'm tweaking things as I go.

Masterlist

Ao3

Wind rushes passed you. The ground comes and meets your face with a dull thud. Blackness is all you see.

A throat-tearing gasp wracks your body. You sit up rapidly and start to violently cough, trying to figure out how to steady your breathing. It takes a moment to steady yourself enough to wipe away the tears from your face and gaze around. What you saw wasn’t what you were expecting.

Jungle. Tall, lumbering trees towered high above you. Heat and humidity smacked you in the face. The air was hard to breath. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen, like you had been shoved onto of a mountain without any time to acclimate. You struggled to your feet and glanced around. The area felt weird. It was as if your internal compass was thrown off completely.

Where were you?

Only thing you could feel besides the confusion was dread. A heavy thing to sit in the pit of your belly, weighing you down. You placed over your heart and took in deep, calming breathes. A difficult thing to do when it feels like you’re slowly suffocating. You pushed through the dread and began to move in a random direction. There had to be some sort of clue to as where you are… and how you got here. The last thing you say doesn’t correspond to waking up in a forest!

Due to the lack of air, you could only walk at a moderate pace. That already had you panting slightly. The terrain was rough and unsteady. Thick foliage, fall giant trees, wide creeks, and boulders made the trip all the more difficult. You had to push forward though and find some sort of clue. Sweat and humidity sticks to your skin like a sheet. Your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. No matter how much you pulled the drenched clothing away from your skin.

Hours, or what felt like hours of traveling, later, you spotted something through the foliage. It rivaled the trees height. A structure! You immediately started to quickened your pace and race through the foliage, not caring if the branches tore at your clothing and skin. You panted heavily by the time you pushed past the lush bush. You stood there and dragged your gaze up, up, up until you find the top. It was a pyramid. A pyramid in the middle of the jungle. Was this somewhere that had Aztec or Mayan buildings? That’s all you could come up with.

It was in pristine state, as if you had been transported back in time. Like this was the day it was built. You can’t recall anything from anywhere that had something like this. With your heavy breathing, you had to stand there for at least ten minutes, under a tree, catching your breath. The sun was harsh. It felt like you were in a desert, in middle of the day. It nearly burned your skin by standing out in it for a short period of time. You glanced at the building after catching your breath once more. You wanted to go inside. Who knows what’s beyond its walls? Could be an earth shattering record?

With a deep breath you pushed onward and stepped into the blazing sun. Even the intensity felt off, the rays as well. Yet, you didn’t have an idea on what is happening. Besides this being a terrible dream. Stuck in a hot, humid jungle with no phone, no map, no clue where you were. A hopeless situation to be put into with your lonesome.

Large stairs that reached your knees slowed your ascend. Halfway up, you had to stop and take a moment. “This. Is. Bullshit,” you muttered to yourself then continued up the stairs. The material was textured and a deep ruby red with blocks of black. It was beautiful despite you sweating all over it. Does a dream really make you sweat this much?

By the time you had reached the top steps, you feel faint, ready to fall back down the stairs you just climbed. You stumbled your way into the entrance, thankful for the cover. The sun had done a number on your skin. The heat that radiated off of you could make water boil off of you. Your back touches a wall before you slide down to sit. Your legs were more than thankful for the rest. There had to be at least on-hundred steps. Minimum. It was worse since they were made for bigger people.

All because you wanted to see the inside. This better be worth it.

Once you felt stable, thirty minutes later, you weakly stood up. Your legs wobbled when you took a step. You continue on and follow your way inside. Only to realize it had a stairwell. You growled and glared at the damn thing. Then, you take the slow and approach of climbing down each step. It wasn’t much to complain about. Only about two flights until you reached the first floor. Now, it was time to explore.

There was something in the air that had you on alert. Either from the creepiness or from the fact you felt like you were crossing into forbidden territory. You tread quietly, peered around corners before doing down that hallway. The place felt like a maze, meant to drag you deeper and deeper into the depths. Until you from yourself all the way at the bottom level.

That; s when you realize that the only reason you’re able to see is from fire lamps. Lamps that have to be lit by someone. You stopped in your tracks and looked at the walls. In your blind stupor, you didn’t think to look at the walls. Walls that are decorated with stone carvings. Carving that made you think of the movie ‘AVP’. This is really a dream.

You walked up to the carving and gently ran a hand over the smooth stone. Beautiful work. Someone had poured their heart into the crafting a story into the stone. Your gaze drifts over the art work and followed the story down the hallway. All the way to a grand door at the end of the hallway. It was too carved with a mixture of stone, word, and some sort of ore. You stopped in front the door with your jaw dropped.

Curiosity got the best of you. Both of your hands were place on one of the doors.; With all of your weight and strength, you pushed open the door. Your head was ducked down as you struggled the entire time. Just enough until you could slip between the new crack. You stepped into the room and instantly freeze on the spot. That dreadful feeling only intensified… tenfold. You picked up your head and had to cut off a gasp.

Tens of eyes stared at you bright, fierce gazes that looked ready to tear into you. Your muscles locked in place as you stared out at the group. You recognized them. Yautjas. These were Yautjas. Twenty or so. All of them staring at you. Your heart pounding in your chest, trying to escape from the situation you’ve put yourself into.

At the end of the long, formal table, one grand looking Yautja stood up abruptly. Others following suit. The first on marched around everyone and advanced swiftly towards you. You stumble backwards and smacked into the closed door behind you.

Two long blades slid out and glinted off the low light from the fire lamps. Your eyes about bulged out of your head as you looked at the approaching Yautja. Seeing them in movies was far different than seeing on in person. Not that you ever thought you would see one like this. Your hands lifted up in a complacent manner, as if you were trying to call down an angered animal.

“Wait!” you screamed, using a language you never though to use. The Yautja stopped in his tracks his muscles tense. Everyone else pausing as well. “Don’t… don’t kill me.” The unused language was choppy on your tongue. You never thought you would ever use it. Not that you had anyone to use it with.

Surprise over took his anger in the moment. His eyes roamed from head to toe. “You spoke.” It was a statement rather than a question. The words takes a long few seconds to register in your brain. A bit of excitement flares to life inside of you at the knowledge you understand him.

Timidly, you nodded your head. “Yes. Did. Not well.” You did your best to communicate with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas behind him glanced at each other, confusion evident in their eyes. Some looked angry. One stepped out from the group and tried to bypass the main Yautja standing less than ten feet from you. He sticks his arm out and stops the other one.

“No, Taural,” he growled but didn’t let his bright vibrant eyes off of you. You felt like a deer in headlights, just waiting for them to do something. For them to decide your fate. There was no running, no fleeing. You couldn’t outrun them, there was no chance of escape. You had to think smart.

The one he stopped snapped his head towards the larger male. “It’s a ooman, Kar'dokh! On Yautja Prime. It needs to be killed,” Taural spat at the brown Yautja. Your heart leapt into your throat. Kill you?! But-but, you’re not a threat, you have no weapons. They have no reason to kill you!

“No.” Such a firm statement that left nothing to be argued. “Return to your seats. Now.” A command that left everyone only to followed. They followed his order with little resistance. Some glanced back at you with murderous intent. Part of you was thankful for the mercy while the other was afraid what he might have in store for you.

Kar'dokh approached you once more with a stern look in his eyes. Instantly, like a cornered animal, your first thought was to throw a punch. But, you didn’t want to give a reason to kill you. Don’t be a threat. He stopped directly in front of you. A towering form that made you feel like you were going to shit yourself. Your heart raced and felt like it was going to leap directly into his hands.

He leaned down and got directly into your face. You tried to turn your head away but he grips your chin and forces your head back. “No threat. Can’t… kill me,” you continued in choppy Yautja. The fear that gripped your heart squeezed hard. All you could do was stand there, under his scrutiny. Your eyes pleading for your life to be spared. Because if your memory served you right, from all the knowledge about these guys, they shouldn’t be allowed to harm or kill you in any way. You aren’t a threat and hold no weapons.

“How do you know?” he growled out lowly and tightened his grip on your chin. You since. “How did you get here?” You could see the questions swirling in his eyes the longer you he stared at you. He was trying to figure out where and how you got here.

Longer you stood there pinned to the wall, you grew more lightheaded. Either from the anxiety that ran through you or the lack of oxygen was starting to get to you. Maybe it was the fear of death right in front of you. Or maybe it was a combination of all of that. Your breathes started to come out fast the longer you were pinned. Darkness began to crowd your vision.

“I-I’m gonna pa-pas out,” you alerted to him before everything went dark. You collapsed on the ground. Kar'dokh letting you dropped. The last thing you remember is being picked up.

By the next time you woke up, you felt a bit refresh. Your eyes blinked open to stare up at a patterned, carved ceiling. Carving like the ones you’ve seen on the pyramid walls. Your brows furrowed at the sight. What? You sat up and rubbed at your eyes. The scene didn’t change. You had just woke up. What in the world were you still in this dream? Fear started to fill your stomach. No… surely, this was a dream. Was this a dream?

Then, a door opening caught your attention. Your head snapped over towards the sound. Kar'dokh was walking into the room, head held high. He stopped besides the cot you had been placed on during your forced nap. Stunned, you peered up at him, heart thundering again. “What happened?” you asked, speaking in your normal language now. Then, you felt the blanket that had been laid on you, slip down. That’s when you realize the room you were in was a medical room. And it didn’t feel like you were suffocating anymore.

His nearness was frightening. To see him crowd into your space without any remorse for scaring you terribly. A grumbled came from the towering, brown giant. “Our planet’s atmosphere isn’t designed for oomans.” His voice! He spoke in Yautja but a monotone voice sounded in your ear. A translator.

It’s thought that they breathe nitrogen more than oxygen. They can survive in our atmosphere than us in theirs. “A regulator has been added to our respiratory system.” Kar'dokh leaned into closer into your space. Your natural reaction was to move away but he snatched your throat and tugged you back. “Now, that I know you won’t die before I get my answers: start talking.”

Worst of all, you don’t know the true answer to his questions. He didn’t look like he would accept ‘I don’t know’ as an answer either. You forced down the lump in your throat. “Uh, what was the questions again?” you asked in a small voice. As much as you wanted to shy away and hide, the grip he had on your chin was firm. There was no escape.

He scowled at you and tightened his hold on you for a moment. “How did you get here? Who brought you onto our planet?” The deepness and anger in his voice was laid thick over you. It rattled you deep to the bones. Fear gripped your heart. The more you looked at Kar'dokh, the more you noticed how decorated he was. Kar'dokh was covered with plenty of bones and scars. From your knowledge, he must be a well decorated hunter or possibly an elder… or a clan leader. That had your heart dropping to the floor, at his feet. You whimpered quietly and closed your eyes, trying not to faint again.

“Answer me!”

Your whole body jerked from him but he brought you back to his space. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I promise. I woke up in the middle of the jungle. I-I walked around and found this place. I don’t know how I got here. Honestly!” you had to plead to him. Hopefully, he’d see the honesty in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You cracked open an eye to read his face.

The gears in his brain were spinning. Kar'dokh growled then let go of your chin. With a yelp, you fell back and nearly fell off the cot if it wasn’t for him grabbing the collar of your shirt. He hauled you back up into a sitting position. Far too close. You could see the speckles in his eyes. Beautiful but deadly. This creature could easily hurt and kill you with a fraction of his strength. The only reason you are alive currently was you weren’t a threat nor an honorable kill. Those… others wanted to kill you with little remorse or pause. Was that honor rule not true? If that was the case, you were a walking corpse. Soon to be a skull on the wall. Nothing more than a trophy.

Kar'dokh eases off of your shirt until he knew you won’t fall backwards again. “Thanks,” you murmured and drifted your face down towards the cot again. Your hands were folded in your lap, nervously playing with each other. “I’m being honest. I promise. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t even know where I am. This isn’t earth, is it?” You gazed back up at him, eyes large and wide.

The two of you entered a short staring contest until he sighed and took a step back. “I believe you, ooman. I don’t smell another on you.” The brown Yautja leaned forward and sniffed you for a moment. “You do smell… strange.” Was that a good or bad thing? He stood back up and stared down at you from over his mandibles. “Do answer me this: how do you know that we can’t harm you?” Your breath got caught in your throat. Was it wise to release such information to him? Would he think you as insane?

But, the only way was to get through all of this is to be honest. From there, it would be up to Kar'dokh if you are to live. Putting your life in someone’s hands.

“Okay… you might not believe me though.” From there, you went into explaining what your world is like. Going deeply into about how Yautjas are a fake species, made up. All of them a fantasy that someone made up… until now. Kar'dokh took all of it. His stern face a wall of impassible features. Not even his eyes gave away a single emotion. By the end, you finally stopped and watched him closely.

During your whole talk, he had grabbed a chair. Kar'dokh stood up and uncrossed his arms. “All you’ve said is… unrealistic, though you arriving on Yautja Prime is also next to unrealistic. Oomans aren’t allowed on Yautja Prime but… you are  a special case now. If what you say is true then you must be kept alive.” That made a cold drop drip down your spine. What could that mean?

From that day, you were under lock and key by Kar'dokh or in a medical-like room. They would run tests on you yet they couldn’t come up with anything logical for your situation. In the meantime, you got to learn more than ever about them. Probably the first and only humans to step foot on Yautja Prime. Alive. It took time to get Kar'dokh to open up but your excitement about learning their culture and language inevitably softened him up enough. That’s when you learned more about him. Plenty for a well decorated warrior and clan leader to talk about.

Two years after you first dropped down onto their planet, the scientists were still scratching their heads. They haven’t figured out how you’ve made it here. They were able to find out you weren’t from their universe. Something about your cells were different. That’s as far as they’ve gotten about your situation.

On a different hand, you’ve gotten further with Kar'dokh to the point he allows you free roam of his home and the clan he leads. There was a strict no harming or killing on you. He had his name and symbol burned into your skin to ensure everyone knew you were off limits. Everyone kept a wide berth when it came to you. Rarely did anyone talk or looked at you. Something you used to your advantage. For the most part. Until you wanted to learn about their culture more.

Back in the comfort of Kar'dokh’s home, you were studying the language. A soft, thin, knitted blanket laid over your legs while you were curled on the couch in the living room. The language… was different. But Kar'dokh was more than helpful when it came to speaking and writing. Listening, that’s a whole different story. That’s all on you. Your brain is completely scrambled trying to understand the different clicks and trills they make.

With a groan, you flopped back against the back of the couch and tilted your head back, eyes closed. A familiar presences hovered over you, blocking out the light. You cracked open an eye then softly smiled at him with no teeth showing. “Hello, Kar'dokh. Come here to gloat about my struggles?” you teased him.

The brown Yautja placed his hands on the top of the couch and leaned over you. His long, dark tresses curtained around his head. “What are you struggling with?” he asked you, features soft and calm. You continued to gaze up at him. “I told you I’m here to help you.” He has changed since the first day you met him. You’ve cracked past his hard exterior to see how soft and kind he could be. You sat up and brought up the sheet of paper you were on. Kar'dokh grabbed it and looked at it closely.

Kar'dokh snorted then used a sharp nail to flick off the translator right behind your ear. Then, he began to speak in Yautja. “What it is saying is…” he spoke the word but it didn’t register in your brain. The confusion etched in your features stated you didn’t understand it. At all. Kar'dokh repeat it a few times. “Now, you try it.” The course of two years has greatly improved your Yautja speech and understanding. There are moment when you struggle… but Kar'dokh is there to catch you before you fall.

At first, the word choppily fell from your lips. Kar'dokh was patient in helping you get the word. The different facial structures definitely made it all the harder. Yet, Kar'dokh was patient with you the entire time. Even if it took all day for you to finally get it.

Once you finally got it, Kar'dokh purred and grinned at you. He combed his fingers carefully through your hair. “You did so well. I’m proud of you,” he praised to you.

In the pit of your stomach, butterflies erupted to life. Your eyes softly shut as you enjoyed the comfort his presence and touch offered. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,” you muttered softly in Yautja. The words were starting to fall from your lips with ease. His nails raked across your scalp. You sunk further into the couch with a deep groan.

A chuckle comes from the brown Yautja. You feel his presence grow closer, his heat washing over you like a blanket of comfort. One of your eyes barely cracks open to see his bright yellow one staring directly at you. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

Without thinking, you leaned up and pecked him on one of his mandibles.

The whole world froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Internally, you were cursing at yourself. You flinched and tried to slip off the couch to put some distance between the two of you. When a hand snatched the back of you neck, lifted you over the couch, and dropped you right in front of Kar'dokh. Your shoulders scrunched up, eyes not daring to look him in the eye.

Rough finger pads gripped your chin and forced you to look directly at him. A lump began to grow in your throat the longer you stared at him.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just-I don’t know. It just happened. I do have feelings. I don’t know if you did. And I probably just ruined what friendship we had. Now you’ll probably hate me. Please, don’t. I don’t know what I wo-“ a tongue was shoved into your mouth and promptly shut you up. Your eyes fluttered shut.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you close to a feverish body. Your own arms wrapped around a sturdy neck. Kar'dokh guided you towards the nearest wall and trapped you between him and it. You are forced to pull back and pant for breath. The back of your head resting against the wall.

“That’s one way to make me shut up,” you teased him and leaned up on your tippy toes to place a kiss to his lower mandible. “I’m not complaining though.” Kar'dokh growled lowly in the back of his throat and dove back into another kiss. You immediately responded in haste, hands roaming over his shoulders and felt up his powerful body.

As your hands dipped lower, Kar'dokh pressed himself harder against you. One of his legs pressed between your legs and forced them open. You gasped into the kiss but he doesn’t let you pull away this time. A rough textured hand palms at your hip for a moment before dipping under the hem of your shirt. The difference in temperature has your hair standing on edge. He continues to grope at your newly exposed skin.

For a moment, he moves back a fraction to give you a moment to take a breath. His large, brown forehead was pressed to your own. Piercing yellow eyes stare directly into yours. The hand under your shirts drifts up and skims under the swell of your unbound breasts. You gasped and arched your back, pressing yourself more into his touch. His eyes flared with fire, mandibles twitching wider.

There’s a long second passed before he rips your shirt off of your body and frees your torso. Kar'dokh’s gaze was immediately admiring the new skin he exposes. Both of his hands palm at the supple, soft skin of your breasts. Large thumbs toys over your nipples and draws them into peaks. You whined and curled your hands into fists. One snagging a dark tress of his. He purred deeply and pressed his mouth to yours again in a fierce fight for the top. Kar'dokh easily overtakes you.

You tugged on his tress. His dark nails dig into your ribcage then he pinched and twisted one of your nipples. A gasp tore at your throat and forced you to pull away from him. Your hips rutted down on the thigh between them.

“Kar, no more teasing. Please, I can’t take it anymore,” you begged him, breathless. His irises darkened.

With the open invitation, Kar'dokh simply rips off your pants and under in one move. A yelp escapes from your throat but he ignores it. The brown Yautja bumps his knee further up and grinds against your exposed slit. Heat flushed to your cheeks at the feeling of a dripping mess making its way to his thigh.

Drool drips down his jaw. Kar'dokh grips your hips and easily lifts you off of the ground, keeping you pinned to the wall. Instinctively, your legs attempted to wrap around his waist but he was larger than you. He uses his hips to hold you up as he undoes his loincloth and tosses it to the side. Your gaze is drawn downwards.

Hot and heavy. Kar'dokh’s alien cock is nestled between your thighs, resting on your stomach. The tip reaches your belly button easily. Oh shit. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

One last look in your eyes, he draws his hips back. The tapered, neon green tip was pressed to your entrance. Then, with a swift thrust, he lodges himself as deep as possible, only able to get about halfway in. Your back arches off of the wall as a wail falls from your lips. The sheer size of him makes it hard for your walls to even clench around him.

Kar'dokh uses a hand to ensnare your throat and forced you to look at him. “I know you can take more.” Another draw and thrust of his hips makes the rest of him fit snuggly inside of you. The feeling of him overwhelmed you. It felt like he was touching every nerve inside of you. Maybe he was.

A deep groan falls from his alien mouth. His eyes fluttering, on the verge of shutting at the exquisite feeling of you wrapped snuggly around him. “That’s it. I knew you could take it, little one. Mm, you’re so tight,” he muttered under his breath. Kar'dokh refocused on the task on hand.

The pace at first was sloppy, unsteady until he found the perfect beat. Loud slaps echoing throughout the living room. Your hand was still wrapped around his tress firmly, using it as a lifeline. Your jaw dropped as each thrust forced the air out of your lungs.

“Yes, yes. Perfect. Been wanting to do this-ugh, for so long. Make you my mate. Gonne breed you. Have my pups,” he rambled amidst the brutal fucking he provided. His claw dug into your hips and held you in place.

You couldn’t the snort that left you as you tried to stay sane. “T-that’s n-ah, no possible, Kar.” From what you know of, it shouldn’t be. No matter how potent their seed is. Or the fact the tip of his shaft was slamming against you cervix with each rut into you.

Black nails dug deeper into your flesh, threatening to break the barrier. “Doesn’t matter. Our technology will fix that,” he growled back and doubled his efforts. Your reply was cut off with a high pitched whine. The brutalness was wrecking to your smaller frame. There wasn’t a chance you would be able to walk tomorrow.

He leaned further into your space and buried his face into the crook of your neck. His long, pink tongue slithered over your salty flesh, tasting you. Blood pool around the nails that finally pierced the flesh of your hips.

“You’re mine. My mate!” Your pants grew whiny. You had no choice but to hold on as the first wave of your orgasm started to wash over you. Your eyes crossed as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Fangs bite down into the crook of your neck, scaring as his mate. With a deep, resonating snarl, Kar'dokh hips go flush with yours. You mewled at the feeling of his throbbing cock taking up every available space inside of you then some more. Spurts of cum began to fill your insides.

None of it was able to spill out and be of waste. Something was lodged just shy of your entrance, plugging you up. You squirmed in his hold and tried to figure it out what it was. Then, the light bulb went off.

A knot. Kar'dokh had knotted you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. He really was doing everything he can to make you pregnant. He unlatched his teeth from your shoulder and licked at the dribbling blood.

At first, you smiled. That turned into a smirk and soon enough, you were laughing softly, soaking in the dopamine in your system. Kar'dokh’s licking stopped. The brown Yautja pulls away to look you in the eye, confused on your laughter.

“I don’t know how this will work. You won’t be able to get me pregnant,” you explained to him again, trying to get the point across. “Why do you even like me? I’m a human.”

One hand detaches the claws in your hip to grip at your chin. “It’s because I am attracted to you. Ooman or not, you are attractable both physically and mentally.” Oh… that’s really sweet of him. Your cheeks flushed with heat again. You couldn’t even duck your head off to the side.

“Then, you need to raise your standards, Kar. Or you just need to get out more often.” Kar'dokh responded with a snort and returned to nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t entertain your words. Instead, he holds you in his arms, waiting for his knot to deflate.

So he could do it all over again.

Sure enough, a human can get pregnant by a Yautja.

[em1989ts]

𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫

five hargreeves x reader

masterlist

word count: 1.7k

summary: when most of his siblings don't make it back to the alley in time to go back to 2019, five is livid. but when you don't make it back in time, he gets worried about what might've happened to you. (idea based on this request)

author's note: i've had a lot of essays to write recently but this request sparked some inspiration so i took a break lol, i've been working here and there on some other works so hopefully i can put a couple more out soon! thanks sm for the request, inbox is still open, and hope you enjoy! *not proofread*

You didn’t show up. 

He waited for you. He waited to see you run around the corner into the alleyway at the last moment, just in time to make it back to 2019. 

He was already extremely disappointed in his family for not meeting such a simple deadline, an opportunity that he worked so hard for. He wanted to be done with killing, it was a part of him he wanted to leave in his past. But as a man who puts the ones he loves before anything else, he gruesomely assassinated a boardroom full of people just to have a chance at returning them to their normal lives in the correct timeline. 

But when you still didn’t show up even after the time he specifically told you, his mind began to assume the worst. He knew you were responsible, he thought you were more than capable of understanding the severity of the deadline. He also knew there was nothing holding you back here. As far as he knew, you had been living alone in an apartment above a diner, no roommates, not even a pet, just taking shift after shift as a waitress to get by in this new timeline, waiting for him to return. He knew you barely talked to anyone in the few months you were left alone here, so you couldn’t have gotten held up with goodbyes. 

As he stomped up the stairs, exhausted from his rant outside in the alley, his aggravated mind continued to theorize the possibilities of your absence. Luther agitated him even further as he trailed behind him up to Elliot’s apartment, already waiting for Five to immediately hand him the next plan. Without another word to his nagging brother, Five made a beeline for one of Elliot’s many guestrooms and locked the door quickly, leaving a worrisome Luther behind. 

Five began pacing angrily, shoulders hunched and hands deep in the pockets of his shorts, chest rapidly rising with every panicked breath. 

“Five?” Luther knocked gently, not wanting to upset his brother further, “Why don’t we just go look for them, they probably got held up somewhere, or they could be in trouble.” 

Of course they were in trouble, his family always manages to fuck up the simplist things. They could never go a day without getting themselves into the most outrageous conundrums possible. They were so careless, yet so selfish. He sacrificed everything, worked and struggled for his entire life, just to save their sorry asses and what does he get? Blame and fault. 

All their problems, blamed on him. It was his fault they got stuck here in the first place, they said. Instead of a thank you, all he received in return from his lifetime of fighting for their lives was utter ungratefulness. 

He thought you were different. 

You were the only one who showed him any signs of appreciation. You trusted him, you thanked him, you made him feel like everything he did meant something, you made him feel like he mattered. 

And that’s what he loved about you. 

So he couldn’t see why you wouldn’t be there. 

Luther was right, something bad must’ve happened to you. The handler, the remaining swedes, something must’ve deliberately tried to fuck up this plan for him. Someone tried to take you away from him. 

His blood was boiling, he knew you were strong on your own, you were independent, you could put up a fight. So what the hell could’ve stopped you? 

~~~ 

You thought you still had time. 

The screen of your watch, synchronised perfectly with Five’s, was completely smashed in, making it impossible to tell the time. Tiny shards of glass fell from your wrist as you ran through downtown Dallas. Bloody, scraped up knees stinging in the wind as you quickly turned the corner into the alley behind Commerce and Knox. 

Your face dropped as you slowed to a stop, noting the absence of the family. 

They couldn’t have left without you, could they? 

As you walked further into the alley, you noticed a large stain of bile covering the concrete, with a groaning Klaus rolling around right next to it. 

Seeing the familiar face gave you a little hope now that you weren’t alone, as you walked over to him and knelt by his side.

“You okay?” you asked, watching him roll over to face you. 

“Oh Y/N!” he said with a groggy yet excited voice, “You sweet angel, you’re alive!”

You held out a firm hand and helped him sit up, trying to ignore the pungent smell, “Yeah I ran into a bit of trouble, where is everybody?” 

“Oh, Five and Luther were the only ones here, but they left a few minutes ago,” he said, referring to the door at the end of the alley that led to the stairwell. 

You helped him stand up with the strength you had left, still a little roughed up from your fight. He wandered off back towards the street while you headed upstairs. 

Once you made it up to the floor where Elliot’s apartment was, you thought your knees were going to buckle with every step you took. When you knocked, Luther was the one who answered the door, looking absolutely relieved to see you. 

“Oh my god, you’re okay,” he moved aside to let you walk inside, “Five’s uh, a little pissed right now so maybe-” 

You walked away towards the shut bedroom door, leaving Luther in the kitchen. 

Stopping in front of the door, you could hear his footsteps going back and forth. 

You sighed as you gently knocked, “Five?” 

The footsteps stopped abruptly, until you heard him walk over and unlock the door, before resuming the back and forth routine. 

You let yourself in and shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you watched him. 

His stare remained on his shoes, not bothering to look up at you. 

His mind was racing, you could tell. It was easy to imagine how frustrated he was, with only two out of six people showing up at the right time. You had no idea what happened to Diego, Allison, and Vanya, you could only account for your own absence, but that would have to wait until he was calm enough to listen. 

Once he stopped pacing, he stayed facing away from you, not bothering to look up. 

“Where the hell were you?” 

Before you could answer, he cut you off, “No, no, it doesn’t even matter anymore, does it? We had one chance, Y/N. ONE chance, to get back home and have everything back to normal again, and now you, and my braindead siblings fucked it up. I thought you were better than this, really. I thought you were actually reliable, I thought I could count on you to be there so we could go home, but I was wrong. Now I’m going to ask one more time, what the hell were you so busy doing that you couldn’t make it to the alley on time?”

He hadn’t gone off on you like that, ever. 

Sure, you’ve seen him get angry from time to time and you’d let him rant to you. You’d always be there to listen to him when he needed to let off a little steam. The Handler bothered him, the Commission stressed him out, his brothers pissed him off, but never you. This was the first time he’d really directed his anger towards you.

You looked at him, his chest heaving heavily, his face flushed red, but his expression confused you. His face displayed his typical scrunched brows, his clenched jaw, but his eyes were hurt, telling you the secret of how he really felt. 

The more you stared at each other, the more realization set into him. He noticed the bruise starting to form around your eye, the reminisce of swiped dried blood under your nose, and slowly, his furious expression turned fully into concern. 

You sighed, breaking the eye contact, “I was on my way here when I bumped into one of the Swedes. I didn’t even mean to start anything, he just saw me and went totally insane. He was by himself so I think I have a good guess as to what happened.” 

You felt like shit, physically and emotionally. The Swede caught you off guard when you ran into him, all the anger and grief he held after he had just killed his brother at Allison’s house was taken out on you. You were sore and tired, and you felt even worse about letting down Five. 

He walked over to you, holding your hand, carefully walking you over and sitting you down on the bed sitting in the middle of the room. 

“I’m sorry,” he looked at your face and felt so guilty. How could he be so harsh on the one person who did their best to be there for him? “Me too,” you said softly, reaching out to comb your fingers through his hair. It always seemed to get a little messy when he got upset. 

“No, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, It’s just-” he paused, “When you didn’t show up I thought-” 

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek gently in your palm, “I’m fine, and this isn’t the end, okay? We’ll figure something out, we always do.” 

He leaned into your hand, his eyes no longer glaring but looking at you so warmly. He didn’t deserve you. You made him feel like time wasn’t bearing down on him, like it wasn’t wasting away at every moment he wasn’t fighting for his life. You were so patient with him, helping him stay in the moment, allowing him to think of new plans without the pressure of his siblings.

As he sat there with you, his mind relaxed just enough to come up with another plan that was so crazy it might just work. The lightbulb flashed in his eyes as he gave you a quick kiss, before he moved to clean up your wounds and begin his next idea to save the world. 

~~~

author's note: i just wanted to note i started writing this in my hotel room in nyc (for some reason hotels are my favorite place to write lol)

also i'm still very confused by taglists so i'm just going to tag people who have asked previously to be tagged and copy and paste it for every work i upload, if you want to be added or removed please let me know :)

tags: @misakiisstupid @lveegsoi @groovydazephantom @tremendoushearttaco @spidermansfangirl @madscamp02 @beanzwritez 

~~~

[dunmeshistash]

G'day, I hope you are doing well.

Ever since I finished the story of Dungeon Meshi (all supplementary material included) I've been writing down bullet points on characters in addition to in-depth synopses as a way to tidy up my rather busy mind. To this end I've also greatly enjoyed reading other folks' interpretations of particular characters, as it gives me further insight into aspects of that character I may have glossed over.

However, there's one character I'm struggling to write a cohesive synopsis about, that being none other than 'miss enigma' herself, Falin Touden. I get that her whole shtick is that she's kind of a mystery, but I find myself drawing a lot of blanks when it comes to her as a character, and while I have nailed down some important bullet points, there are a lot of different interpretations on her, all of which starkly contrast one another. Though perhaps it's just the wording. Hard to say.

It could very well be that I'm being too dense i.e. perceiving "Falin is willing to risk killing others to save her friends." and "Falin, in the heat of the moment, when faced with certain death, was willing to face the prospect of harming potential passersby in a final Hail Mary to get her friends to safety." as entirely different observations. I have a hard time with those kinds of things.

With this being a hub for all sorts of observations, interpretations and cool trivia, I was wondering if you'd perhaps be willing to share how you yourself perceive Falin as a character, so I can compare notes and perhaps gain a more proper understanding of her as a character as a result. I know this question is very broad and kind of vague, but if you could spare the time I'd be most grateful.

Other than that, I wish you an excellent day.

Hello!!! I love Falin!!!!!

She *is* a mystery, we mostly know Falin through the perception other characters have of her instead of a direct deep look onto who she is, which I find very interesting. I think the best post I've seen about her (which as usual I can't remember where edit: someone linked it thank uu) I think called her perceived altruism/love "selfish" and I've been thinking about that ever since.

In that sense the way she cares so much about the comfort of people around her might be a way to keep *her own* comfort because she doesn't want to see other people suffer.

This girly died and came back to life from bones and the first thoughts she has is that she caused trouble for her loved ones

She probably has felt this way since she was a child, "because of her" that her family was torn apart "because of her" that Laios left, her mom was sick, her father had to send her away. (wasn't actually her fault but she might think it is)

I imagine ever since then Falin has done her best to not cause trouble and to make the people she loves happy, everything we know about her and the things she was doing was always for the people she loved, that's why I enjoy the post canon comic where Toshiro asks her hand in marriage again so much. The first time she considers accepting just because "might as well" while for the second time she finally wants to live for herself.

I think Falin herself has lost who she "really is" by trying to accommodate everyone around her and that's probably part of why we ourselves don't really know her, so much so that the most cynical character is uncomfortable around her (probably cause he notices Falin is "hiding" something)

I think Falin is quite the melancholic character to be honest, someone who has lost herself in self sacrifice and who is only now learning how to live for herself doing what she wants.

Both the teleportation scene and the bit about healing show "cracks" in the selfless front she puts out tbh. By context I don't think what she did was only due to "desperation of the moment" she says out loud "Even if I end up hurting others I want you and my brother to live on". She weighted out how much suffering she might cause and decided she wanted to save them anyway, and I'm sure in that calculation she knew that they would suffer because of her sacrifice too.

Falin is saving them for herself, I'm not great with words so this is all over the place and maybe sounds a little negative about Falin but the thing is, you cannot live your life for other people, you can't sacrifice yourself for other people's happiness, you shouldn't erase your own presence so others are happier and I think Falin is starting to learn that by the end.

I'd probably keep rambling without getting anywhere and missing a lot of more meaningful moments but I'll stop here, if anyone has recs for Falin analysis please share!

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone 6  | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

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

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

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

The Finale

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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.

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

MATT: You up?

I blinked at the screen. Speak of the devil.

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

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

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

My stomach flipped at that.

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

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

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

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

ME: Weird how?

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

But then—

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

I swallowed, my pulse quickening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ME: I don’t know. You tell me.

A full minute passed. Then—

MATT: How do you feel about New York?

My breath caught. Was he serious?

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

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

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

I laughed out loud, shaking my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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.

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

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

His reply came almost instantly.

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

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

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

My phone buzzed again.

MATT: Safe flight, San Diego.

I smiled.

ME: See you soon, Manhattan.

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

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

ME: Landed.

The dots appeared immediately.

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

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

And then I saw him.

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

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

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

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

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I raised an eyebrow. "Did you—?"

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

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

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

I narrowed my eyes. "Matt…"

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

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

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

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

Matt just smirked. "Deal."

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

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

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

Matt watched me expectantly. "Well?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Smooth," I teased.

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

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

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

I raised an eyebrow. "Like?"

"You’ll see."

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

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

He grinned. "Trust me."

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

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

I shook my head. "Can’t say I have."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He made a face. "That’s it?"

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

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

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

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

"Guess so."

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

My stomach dropped.

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

Matt nodded once. “Yeah. Let’s move.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I glanced up at him. "You okay?"

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

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

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

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

He sighed. "Yeah. Maybe."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I blinked. "Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now, I was staying with Matt.

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

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

I was. Probably.

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

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

I raised an eyebrow. “This is you?”

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

“A little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirked. “You’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned. “You like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Matt asked, immediately alert.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

MATT: Gym. Didn’t want to wake you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even a little one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like the beach?” I teased.

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

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

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

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

“Always,” he replied, grinning.

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

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

“Efficient,” he quipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Demanding,” he said with a smirk.

“I’m serious!” I shot back, grinning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He groaned again. “Too early.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I glanced at my phone. “Almost ten.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I gave them a small wave, my cheeks burning.

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

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

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

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

The guys burst into laughter, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely,” Emily agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trust me, I will,” I said, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not a chance.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” I asked softly.

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

“Done what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Twenty minutes,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When we reached the lobby, Matt walked me to the waiting car, his hands in his pockets and his head down just enough that I couldn’t see his expression.

I turned to him once I reached the car, biting my lip. “Thanks for everything, Manhattan. Really.”

He looked up then, his eyes meeting mine. “Anytime.” he said, his voice soft but steady. Before I could think too much about it, I leaned in and wrapped my arms around him, holding on tighter than I meant to. He hugged me back, his arms solid and warm around me, and for a moment, I didn’t want to let go.

But eventually, I had to.

I stepped back, giving him a small smile as I climbed into the car. He stood there on the curb, watching as the driver pulled away, and when I glanced back, he was still standing there, hands in his pockets, until I turned the corner and he was out of sight. I leaned back in the seat, my chest tight and my heart full, already counting down the days until I could come back.

The car had been stuck in traffic for a few minutes, the muffled sounds of honking and engines filling the air. I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes to shut it all out for a moment. I wasn’t ready to leave.

And then I heard the door open.

I jolted upright, my heart racing. “What the—”

Matt.

He was standing there, sweaty and out of breath, a sheen on his flushed face as if he’d just sprinted a marathon. He leaned against the open door, chest heaving, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Matt? What the hell are you doing?” I asked, blinking in disbelief.

He held up a hand, trying to catch his breath. “I—I have to tell you something,” he started, words tumbling out between gasps. “Before you go. Because if I don’t, I swear I’m gonna regret it—and honestly, I think the girls might actually beat the shit out of me at the next game if I don’t.”

“What?” I stammered, still completely thrown.

“But it’s not just about that,” he rambled, gesturing wildly. “I just— I think I have to say it. Even if it’s stupid. Even if it messes things up because I don’t know how else to… Ugh.” He groaned and dragged a hand down his face, looking so exasperated with himself.

“Matt—”

“Basically, Y/N,” he cut me off, locking his eyes with mine, “I have a crush on you.”

I froze, staring at him, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.

“I know it’s probably weird. We’re like best friends, and you’re leaving, and we’ll barely get to see each other, but I can’t just pretend like it’s not there anymore. And it’s been driving me nuts because I don’t want to mess this up or make things awkward or—”

“Matt.”

“—or make you feel pressured because that’s the last thing I’d want, and—”

“Matt.”

“What?”

I stared at him for a second before a small laugh escaped me, shaking my head in disbelief. “I already know.”

He blinked, looking completely thrown. “What?”

“It’s kind of obvious,” I said, still laughing softly. “You’ve been wearing your feelings on your sleeve for weeks. You are not as subtle as you think sometimes.”

His jaw dropped, his cheeks going redder—though I wasn’t sure if it was from exertion or embarrassment. “Okay, rude,” he muttered.

“I mean, you literally chased down a car to tell me,” I teased, my heart fluttering even as I tried to keep the moment light.

“Well, yeah, because I—” I didn’t let him finish.

I leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, my face burning as I pulled back and whispered, “I guess I have a crush on you too, Matthew.”

He stared at me, his wide brown eyes searching mine, his breath catching as if he didn’t know what to do with the words I’d just said.

And then, in one swift movement, he cupped my face in his hands, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine.

The world disappeared. The noise, the city, the traffic—all of it melted away. It was just Matt and the warm press of his lips, the way his thumb brushed gently against my cheek, the way everything about him felt so… right.

When we finally broke apart, he stayed close, his forehead resting against mine, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured.

I laughed softly, my heart pounding in my chest. “Guess we’re even, then.”

The driver cleared his throat, and we both startled as the car started moving again. Matt chuckled, shuffling back slightly but keeping his hand in mine.

“San Diego,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “You better come back soon.”

“I will,” I promised, squeezing his hand.

And for the first time since this whole whirlwind of a trip had started, I felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, and just as I was settling back into my seat, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

Matt was getting out of the car.

“What now?” I muttered, leaning toward the open window.

He bent down, resting his forearms on the window frame, his face close enough that I could see the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks. “Call me as soon as you land, please?” he said, his voice softer than usual.

I laughed, shaking my head at him. “Matt, I’ll probably text you when the light turns green.”

His lips curved into a crooked smile, his gaze lingering for a moment like he didn’t want to let me go. “Still. Just… call me, okay?”

“Okay,” I promised, trying not to let the sudden tightness in my chest show.

He stepped back onto the sidewalk, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched the car begin to move again. I twisted in my seat, catching one last glimpse of him standing there before I sighed and turned back around. And then, my phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen, a grin breaking out across my face when I saw his name. Rolling my eyes fondly, I answered, “So, when are you coming to San Diego?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by his soft laugh. “I guess that depends. You free next weekend?”

[judysxnd]

If you're taking requests for Lando, and are comfortable writing angst. I'm in one of those moods where I need gut-wrenching neglected girlfriend being called clingy and then him grovelling for forgiveness. You don't have to write it, I just really have been in an angsty mood.

Sparkle anon

As usual I don't like what I did, but I have been starting this like a thousand times and never finished it and this time I did. So I'll go with the flow. I hope you'll like it !

I took so much time to write this that your mood probably changed like a thousand times 😭 I'm sorry 😔

———————————————————————

These past few days have been hard for you. Lando has been away for the past three weeks because it was a triple header and you couldn't come with him because of work. You always thought that being famous too would help you have clear weekends to come to the races, but apparently not. You had ads to film, shoots for magazines to do, interviews to prepare and do too, and it was getting overwhelming.

And Lando being in a different time zone definitely didn't help. You barely could texts, or one would respond hours later, the phone calls only last a few minutes (when you can actually call each other) and it wasn't enough for you these days. Your anxiety was getting the best of you, resulting in a few panic attacks daily.

Usually Lando helps a lot, but he had enough stuff on his plate too. He was in a tough battle with Max for the championship, and from what you've seen and what he had told you a bit, he was struggling with the car this week-end. You tried to make it work as much as you could. But you just couldn't do it anymore. You were back at Monaco after working hard until Saturday afternoon, actually coming home at Lando's place around 9pm, crying yourself to sleep, not even eating.

You knew Lando would be back for a few days from Vegas for a couple of days before flying to Qatar. But you definitely didn't expect to wake up at almost 5pm the next day by noises in the kitchen. First of all, how did you sleep that much? You were tired but damn, that's like 18hours of sleep ! And second of all, who was in the kitchen?

You slowly walked, carefully listening to the noises. After leaning a bit, you saw Lando searching the fridge for something to eat.

"Oh my god" you said relieved it was him. "you scared me so much!" you said walking to him, hugging him from behind.

"I scared you- in my own place?"

"yeah as you were in a different country" you leaned onto the counter next to him. "how did it go?" you asked about the race. Yes you didn't watch it as you slept half a day. You were going to watch it as you woke up, before Lando gets back, but well, you definitely didn't have time for that apparently.

"not good" Lando said barely looking at you

"oh" he walked out of the kitchen "but where did you finish?"

"You didn't watch the race?" he asked, going to the living room to eat at the table

"Well, I wanted to, but as you can see I.. overslept" he stared at you, as he was judging you "and you came back before I could watch it, so might as well tell me directly" you sat in front of him

"Well I lost the championship and finished P6, behind Max at the race. Happy?"

"Why are you so mad at me? It's not my fault, I'm just trying to know what happened to support you"

"support me? You weren't even there for that"

"ugh, excuse me? Sorry for having a career of my own, which I might give up with everything happening at the same time"

"like you can't take at least one day to come watch the race"

"that's the only thing you got from what I just said?" you stood up "what the hell Lando? What happened for you to treat me like that? I've been working my ass off, trying to contain my panic attacks all alone because you also have a career and can't be by my side 24/7, you barely even answer my text, you don't call me, you don't even ask me how I am doing!" He just stared at you, not saying anything. "you know what? I think I was better alone" you said, leaving the room, heading to his bedroom to gather your stuff.

"Wait- where are you going?" he said following you, like he suddenly cared.

"I'm going to my parents for a while. I haven't seen them in 2 months between my work and the races. And you're leaving like in two days anyway so, might as well try to have a good time with people that actually care about me" And before he could say anything, you were out of his sight, driving to the nearest airport to fly to your parents (trying to avoid to cry and have many panic attacks on your way).

You knew Lando wouldn't fly to you for the next two weeks with the races getting all of his time. But he did harass you with texts, tried to call you, which you ignored. He also sent you flowers, many flowers, gifts with little cards, apologising and asking for you to answer his texts and calls. You did feel guilty, even if you made it clear that he neglected you, you felt bad for keeping it to yourself that long and just lashing onto him like that.

You watched the last two races of the year, a knot in your stomach. You felt like you made it worse by acting like that and ignoring him. Hell he could have an accident and not make it back and that would be the last thing you said to him? That is a very bad scenario but still. And at the same time, your pride was telling you to keep ignoring him, that you were right and that he was the one to come back to you (which he was actually trying to do).

Until the next Monday after the last race, when you heard a knock to your bedroom. Innocently thinking it was your mom, you told "her" to come in, only to be faced by Lando holding flowers in his hand. You were laying in bed, in your pyjamas at 3pm, scrolling on your phone.

"Lando? What are you doing here?" You said, sitting up.

"You didn't give me other choices" you nodded, admitting that it was true. "I'm sorry for being a bad boyfriend" he said, taking a step closer to you

"keep going" you said, crossing your arms

"I shouldn't have neglected you like that even if I get too busy at work. I know you always take time for me even though you're working too and I should do the same thing" he sat down at the edge of your bed

"hm hm" you nodded

"I know you didn't read my texts nor listened to my voice messages or voicemails, but I've been apologising for a thousand times and, I've been begging you not to breakup with me" you couldn't help but laugh

"I've listened to them" you admitted

"w-were they good?" you tilted your head "you know I'm not good for that type of stuff"

"You're getting there"

"So what are you saying? Are we good?" you leaned a bit closer to him

"No we're not good Lando. It's not a bunch of texts, calls and gifts that are going to make me forget what happened. Hell I told you I wanted to abandon my entire career and you didn't even react" he was about to say something but you cut him off "and I know it's been very tough for you too for the races, that's why I gave you the benefit of doubt when you were away, but- you were sitting in front of me Lando-"

"I know, I know" he sat right in front of you, holding your hands "we've been dating for a year and- honestly I don't know what happened. When I came back from São Paulo you were there for me, and thank god you were, but I think it's just, it went to my head and I was under so much pressure" you wanted to cut him off but he didn't let you "and I'm not making up excuses for what I did. I just don't want to lose you. I'm so sorry, I'll do anything for you not to leave me, just please, don't go. It won't happen again, I promise" you sighed

"I wasn't going to leave you Lando" you had a little smile. You could see it in his eyes. He was scared he really messed up to the point you were actually going to leave him for good. Maybe stepping away for a few weeks made him think, like for you.

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised

"Yes, but I needed some time, like you did too"

"yes. I'm so sorry. I love you so much. I won't do it again"

"You better not" you both laughed a little. "I love you too"

"Not as much as I do" and he immediately leaned in to kiss you. "Now I need to give those flowers to your mother because she helped me to get to talk to you" you gasped as he stood up

"of course she did" you laughed "and to think those flowers were for me? I'm offended" you joked

"Didn't you get enough with everything I sent you?" you tilted your head "too soon?" you both laughed

"yeah, too soon" he left the room. You got up and followed him down the stairs.

[kinghijinx22]

Why Silent Hill 3 is my big favorite- a terrifying horror game about woman's experiences and the fears that come from existing as a woman in a patriarchal society

Silent Hill 3 is probably my favorite Silent Hill game and one of my favorite games of all time, and it has a story and themes that I've always really vibed with. It tells a remarkably progressive story for it's time that handles some intense themes that are still relevant even today, about experiences that a lot of woman go through and the fears that come from existing as a woman in a patriarchal society, what it's like having your own agency and bodily autonomy taken away from you, forced pregnancy and sexual assault, how harmful patriarchal societies are and this game really getting into the religious flavor of patriarchy in particular.

It's an incredibly scary game that uses a feminine sort of horror to great effect, with the design of the other world being as bloody as it is and the monster designs being representative of this. I mean there is a type of creature that are literally supposed to look like fetuses that start getting bigger throughout the game as the birth of God draws near and the giant worm boss for lack of a better way of putting, literally being a giant penis. I think the main complaint that I hear from people about this game is how slow the story is in the first half of the game, but I think the whole getting home late at night as a young woman contributes a lot to what this game is saying. And I absolutely love how this game ends with Heather literally aborting God and fighting it as the final boss, symbolizing her fully taking control of her life and rejecting all of the harmful expectations that were forced onto her. Main antagonist Claudia is such a tragic character though, someone who was so brainwashed by town's religion into think that someone HAS to give birth to God so hard that she did it herself and she suffered for it.

Also while not as intentional considering when it was written and they probably couldn't even write about this stuff if they wanted to, something that I think is worth noting is that I've heard from a lot of trans people who relate to this game as well and I can really see it. Considering it's about people who Heather knows from a past life, coming back to remind her of that past life and forcing it onto her, and Claudia referring to Heather as Alessa could be interpreted as deadnaming Heather. But yeah I've always really loved and connected with this game for how well it handles it's themes about woman's experiences and I think it's really cool how many trans people have been able to relate to it with those specific experiences as well.

Another of my favorite things about Silent Hill 3 is the main character Heather, because she really is one of the coolest characters that I've always really related to. Her struggles are incredibly relatable, but she's also inspiring in how she overcomes them and is always so confident. In fact I appreciate how her and her father subvert societal gender roles in opposite directions, with Heather being as confident and extroverted as she is, probably more then any other Silent Hill protagonist and willing to stand up to all of the men in the story like Douglas in the beginning, Vincent and Leonard, along with all of the monsters she has to fight. And Harry being a single parent who is as gentle and caring as he is, with his one track mind of looking as his daughter, he's kind of both a father and a mother in that way, and also being as physically weak as he is and the opposite of a action hero. She also easily has the most personality of any Silent Hill protagonist, like this girl is overflowing with charisma and is even a little jokey. In fact another detail that I like is how much personality comes through in her examine dialogue, where you actually get to hear her thoughts on everything instead of just basic observation "this is a thing" that the other games in the series do. Heather has opinions on everything, but how she's feeling throughout the game is also conveyed. The dialogue of her observations in the first half of the game has a much more playful and hopeful tone to it, but after Harry dies she becomes much more pessimistic, can only see the negatives in everything and just doesn't seem to care anymore.

Heather is an incredibly well written and nuanced character, and I'll be honest that this is the game I least want to see be remade because I know that they would find a way to fuck up the writing of her character and handling of the themes of this game. Even after the Silent Hill 2 remake being as good as it is, one of Blooperteams biggest flaws is being incapable of handling anything to do with woman's experiences or perspective. SH2 used to be my fav, but I came to realize that it was mostly just because it was the popular one and that I vibe a lot more with SH3 and 4. Especially because SH2 tells a story about misogyny but makes it all about the perpetrator rather then the victim, unlike Silent Hill 3 which does actually tell the story of someone on the receiving end of that type of violence and objectification. SH3 and 4 are my personal favorites, 3 because Heather is best protagonist and I really appreciate it's themes which are handled perfectly, and SH4 because it has a really cool narrative and horror concepts. I know opinions on SH4 are really split, and while I think there are some gameplay things that are jank, I love it's story and premise so much.

[churipu]

Hi! ☺️ First and foremost, I hope you're doing well. Also, I just recently found your page and I love your writing!

I really liked your post on the super sensitive reader with the jjk men. Can I get headcanons of the jjk men with reader who is very stoic and a little emotionally constipated? Like they have never seen reader cry ever while in their relationship together, but then reader ends up having a hard week and ends up crying from frustration.

jjk men & their emotionally constipated partner

featuring. shiu kong, itadori yuuji, todo aoi, geto suguru x reader

warnings. cursing and jjk men being sweet and soft to their partner <;33

note. hi anon! i'm doing great, hbu love? thank you for liking my works, you don't know how much that means to me, i hope you have a great day! and thank you for requesting, i find this request very interesting <33 also, thank you guys for the big amount of support i've been receiving for the last two days, can you imagine i gained like 140+ followers in that matter of time? i'm going to start violently sobbing istg. anw, i hope u sexies enjoy this <33

SHIU KONG. shiu loves you a lot, even if you struggle in showing the love back to him, he knows you love him a lot. shiu would receive random messages (mostly a picture of something and then you tell him that it reminded you of him, probably deemed as your love language now). i feel like shiu is partly happy that you don't take things into the heart - but at times he'd be very worried about you. you never cry, you almost never get angry at him even if he did something wrong (you'd just tell him it's nothing and you weren't mad, but he sometimes think it's because you didn't want to engage yourself in arguments), and hell, he barely sees you smile at all.

shiu has heard you tell stories about your new work place, which you quote unquote as toxic. and you've been in the company for no longer than three months, but the stories about your very annoying co-worker and your boss never stops. he swore that the topic of your work place was the only thing that could get you riled up.

i feel like shiu would be the type of boyfriend who would tell you to stop working because he's financially stable enough to provide for you, but you decline telling him that you didn't want to live off of him.

shiu didn't force you to stop or quit your job though, he'd be glad to listen to you talk about your days at work.

"y/n? you're ho— darling, what happened?" he saw the solemn look on your face and realized that something must have happened (yet again) at your work place, he dropped the cigar that was lodged in between his lips and immediately approached you.

you shook your head, inhaling sharply before kicking off your shoes, "work, of course."

"is it your boss? or that same co-worker again?" shiu knew that it was either your boss or this one co-worker who doesn't seem to enjoy your presence in the office.

"both." you sat down on the couch, throwing your head back in exhaustion (you were about to cry and the only way to stop your tears from coming out was to just force it back in with your head back), "i'm getting my paycheck reduced this month."

shiu took a seat next to you, "why?"

"i was blamed for something my co-worker did, this is so unfair," your voice cracked a little and shiu pulled you into a hug, you choked out a sob, "this is so unfair," you muttered out, your pent out anger and disappointment finally seeping out in a form of tears.

"hey, shh..." he soothes you, pulling back to see your tearful eyes. he grazed over your cheek to wipe the droplets away, "let me take care of them, yeah?"

you shook your head, "don't have to, i don't want to make this into a bigger mess."

shiu planted a kiss on your forehead, "don't worry about it darling, you trust me, don't you?"

"yes."

shiu had a "talk" with your boss and your co-worker the very next day and your co-worker ended up resigning right after, and your boss, well they never bothered you anymore (and you're getting an extra paycheck for the next half a year).

ITADORI YUUJI. people always wonder how you and itadori ended up with each other. him being this ray of sunshine, and you were like the moon. but he didn't care about what everyone says, he loves you — and that's what matter, right?

wrong. don't think that you didn't notice the enormous shit talking about you behind your back, about how you probably bribed itadori into dating you and what not. usually, you'd shove all those down the drain and forget about it.

but for some reason, you couldn't help but to rethink about what they said. how itadori isn't too fit for you, or how you don't deserve him at all. the only thing that managed to trigger you was how somebody said that itadori deserves someone more "emotionally available" for him, and that person isn't you.

you never liked being emotionally constipated, people always talk about you behind your back, saying how you're so distant and that being the reason you don't have any friends. you keep telling yourself that you're used to it when it comes to you, but when it comes to itadori and your relationship — you feel helpless.

"y/n? are you okay?"

you looked up at him, a glint of worry flashing in his eyes. and you can't help but to feel the frustration building in you as you remember the words people say to you, "yes..no? i don't kno—" you choked out, smacking your hand on top of your mouth at the sound you let out.

it just got worse when you feel the tears you've been penting up for the past few weeks come out. itadori blinked feverishly, a little surprised to see you crying like this. he has never seen you cry before, "y/n..?" he breathes out, his hand reaching out to you, but you moved back, trying to avoid his touch.

the embarrassment you felt was horrid, you hated crying in front of people, even your own boyfriend, "baby," itadori mutters out seriously, grabbing your arms and then pulling them away from your face, "tell me what's wrong. talk to me."

i feel like he knew where this was going, he had a hunch. for the past few weeks, you asked him about why he was with you, why he loves you when there were better people out there (you think). and he knew it was because of what people said.

"i...i just don't think i'm the right one for you, yuuji. they're right, you need a more emotionally available partner."

itadori's face fell when you said that, and he shook his head, pulling you into his embrace. rocking back and forth like a baby, "why would you say that? why would you listen to them y/n?" he asks quietly.

"i...don't know."

he pulled away, brows furrowed and he held your shoulders, "you're perfect for me, i don't give a fuck what they said about you and i. the next time someone says something, i'm going to beat them up," the thing is, he looked so serious you couldn't help but to chuckle.

"you just chuckled.." he breathes out, "my life is complete."

TODO AOI. he's very boisterous, and i feel like he'd be the type of person who would defend his partner everywhere they go. when you accepted his feelings, he was surprised since he never expected you to like someone like him. but he was pretty damn proud of you, and as a boyfriend, he shows you off like a trophy.

telling people about how amazing you are, how you make him happy, or how you treat him nicely. but people are fucking judgmental, some of them don't like the idea of others living happily — and you never thought that "these" particular people would target you next for it.

saying how fucking weird todo is for liking someone like you, and you had to be honest, it did get into you. and so began your avoidance to your own boyfriend, todo.

he hates it. he hated how you changed out of the blue, no matter how hard he tries to reach out for you, you weren't the same anymore and he never got why you decided to change.

believe me when i say that he tried asking his friends about it, or about tips to get you to talk to him. but really, they weren't much of a help, saying how you probably got bored and is avoiding him so he would be the one to break up first with you.

todo didn't want to let the idea of that get into him, but after a few weeks of you avoiding him non-stop, he began thinking the same thing. were you bored of him? did he do something that you didn't like? or is it because he ate the last chocolate chip cookie you were saving up and blamed it on someone else?

so when he got the chance to bump into you, he immediately took it as a chance to ask you about it.

"why are you avoiding me?" you tried ending the conversation right away by going the other way, but man is fast fast so he didn't let you — still wanting to know about the sudden change in your behavior.

todo knows how you didn't like being cornered, or how you don't like talking about the relationship, sappy shit. but if he didn't talk to you about this, todo knew he was going to regret it.

"y/n," he grabbed the back of your collar, pulling you back lightly, "did i do something wrong?"

you were silent for a few seconds before todo's ears perked up at the sound of soft, choked out sobs. you were crying. you were crying. and the panic sinks in, "i..i'm sorry, did i pull on your collar too hard?!" he panics, flailing his arms.

you shook your head, "...no, i'm sorry for avoiding you."

todo stopped his panicking and stood up straight, "i couldn't stop thinking about what people have to say about us, and now that i think about it, i feel like you deserve more than me," todo widened his eyes and looked around.

"who the fuck said that? i'm going to beat them up so bad people won't recognize them," todo mutters out and the corner of your lips tugged upward, "is that why you're avoiding me?"

you nod, "it was wrong. i know i should've said something about it. i'm sorry for avoiding you."

todo laid his hand on top of your head, brushing your h/c softly with a gentle smile, "you're perfect for me, fuck those people," he cusses out, "next time you hear em', don't forget to find out their names— i'm going to give them a lesson for it."

SUGURU GETO. suguru and you are like two peas in a pod. people never see him without you and vice versa, and often people would say that you both are the perfect couple. despite your personalities almost being the same type of calm, suguru is a calm man, and he's soft spoken. while you were just plain cold and stoic, rarely speak of something or even show your emotions.

someone bothering you? okay. someone making fun of you? okay. you were practically a walking definition of "i give zero fucks". but that doesn't mean you can't feel hurt, you are still human after all.

so when suguru told you about how he has a new co-worker, and how she has been clinging onto him, how she tries to get in his pants. you find it cute how he tells you about it, even telling you that you should come to his workplace so he could show you off.

you didn't feel anything because you trusted him. until you see the so called "co-worker" of his. she's pretty, you can't deny that. and you could see how she gets along with almost everyone, having no problem in instigating a conversation or complimenting people. people definitely like her.

that's where the insecurity began sinking in.

would suguru fall for her like everyone in his workplace does? would he leave you for her? so many questions you wanted to find the answer to.

"baby?"

you look at him, completely out of your daydream. he cocks his head to the side, "are you okay? you've been zoning out a lot lately..." he said, voice gentle and worried.

you nodded, "yeah. sorry. got a lot in my mind."

"do you want to talk about it?" he brushes a few h/c strands from covering your face, "you've been a little distant. is it something that i did, baby?"

god, just the thought of suguru thinking it was him made you a little sensitive. the past few weeks was already hard enough for you to contain yourself from breaking down, and him asking that made the tears you held in for so long drop out all at once.

suguru was a little taken aback and he sat straight up, alarmed, "y/n? baby? what's wrong?" he asks you gently, wiping the tears that never ceased from your face.

"i feel..i feel like i'm not enough. you deserve better than me, suguru." suguru swallowed the lump in his throat, he should've known, ever since you came to his workplace, you had started getting distant. and he should've known that was the reason.

suguru shook his head, cupping your face before giving you soft little kisses all over your face, "don't" a kiss on your forehead. "you" a kiss on your left cheek. "dare" a kiss on your right cheek. "say" a kiss on your nose. "that" a kiss on your chin.

the male gazes into your eyes deeply, "i love you," he softly said before planting a kiss on your lips, "you're the one i want, you're perfect for me. i can't see my future without you y/n, so please don't think about that..."

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[caseylovefics]

One Year Of Jikook Recs: 2023 - 2024

Over the last year, I've read a lot of Jikook fics, some old and some new. Many of them are explicit, FYI but this is a list of everything I bookmarked that I thought, at the time, would be worth sharing eventually. I believe there is something here for everyone here. Huge shoutout to all of these incredible authors - if you like something on the list or have any recommendations, give them some love and let me know!

Friends To Lovers:

Burn for You (50616 words) by Charmander Bachelor Jungkook and whipped Jimin have a turn in the relationship after a third party helps them...connect.

Friendly Favours (76125 words) by dontknowwhatimdoing Jungkook asks Jimin to fake date him and that sucker is dooomed. In the best way. So many adorable scenes and scenarios.

i remember thinking i had you (44676 words) by mrsmorality Unrequited love Jimin is hard and Jungkook kinda annoyeding but still cute.

Nevermind (81173 words) by rkiveink Jimin and Jungkook were best friends but haven't spoken in years. Jungkook, now recovered, helps Jimin while he mourns a close friends from his band who passes away. It's a very raw and honest fic. I found it refreshing to read something like this after a series of super fluffy fics, though in the end this is also soft in it's own way.

Run Into Sin (85356 words) by eumorious Kinda friends/roommates who are going broke and struggling to meet rent enter a porno competition to make money. You can imagine where this goes next and yes, it's raunchy and still domestic at times. Would recommend.

No Homo (75666 words) by snatchim This is just crack up. So funny and still funny even when the no homo joke is done to death. Jungkook convinces his homophobic best friend to do some 'no homo' acts after a spontaneous threesome. Who knew all you needed was a threesome to get a boyfriend these days?

what am I, darling? (18960 words) by paliampelo Heartbreakingly well written unrequited love from Jimin. Jungkook flits around from person to person until he finds his hyung's lips surprisingly irresistible. I really love some of the dialogue in this and the first kiss scene is just *chefs kiss*. You wouldn't believe how many times I read that shit.

Hybrid Fics:

Devil Dog (151164 words) by Charmander Uggggh why is everything they write so amazing? I think I read this like 2-3 times in the last year. Hybrid Jungkook and human Jimin who has a sick up his ass but has a wonderful character arc. Fantastic read. Recommend this to everyone!

I See Summer in Your Smile (28115 words) by frenchfries4life Oooof. Jaguar hybrid Jungkook is sliiick ya'll and I love how relatively transparent his character is in this fic, and it still works. Definitely recommend this for anyone who needs to be eased into the hybrid world, though this one kinda blends with some ABO themes.

Fantasy/Magical/Demon Fics:

NIGHTSHADE BLAZE (131143 words) by carameLIZed_suga I truly believe this is a MUST READ for every Jikook fan. With the amount of recognition it has, I would be suprised if you haven't read it honestly. It's just so so so good. Probably the third or fourth dragon fic I've read, but definitely my favourite so far and probably the fic I've re-read the most.

Soul To Sell (43003 words) by carameLIZed_suga Demon's Jimin and Jungkook have been fighting and thirsting over eachother for years and it is a wonderful spectacle to consume. Super hot...and devilishly well paced for those of you who are impatient readers. At this point just read all of caramelized suga if you like a couple of their stories.

you love me, you love me not (164358 words) by melodrunkcherry In a series of unfortunate events, witch Jimin makes a love potion for Namjoon and Jungkook drinks it. They're at a witch school, coven thing. I can't fully remember this but it was enchanting and a very fun read.

you shine in this pitch darkness (161271 words) by tinymiminie Demon Jungkook rarely visits earth, but when he sees Jimin's colourful soul and fluffy hair, he's whipped. This is a different take on demon Jungkook that was enjoyable to read. Jimin is just a ball of squish and Jungkook an evil puppy.

ABO:

Bloom In Rebellion (189138 words) by infinitetwinkles This fic had refreshing world building and themes that was nice to see in the ABO world. Read this really quickly and wish I discovered this author sooner!

everything you do (i want to do it with you) (10113 words) by serendiplini Sickeningly sweet friends to lovers. Tae is so done with their shit and I love it.

A Tale of a Lonely Pup (51325 words) by Vitamin_PJM Angsty true mates fic set in university that is super cute!

The Rogue (226263 words) by Allnighter_Friend Oooooo if you haven't read this. Read it. Just trust me. I devoured this fic and it just gives you all the feels. Jimin is standing in as the leader of his pack while his father is sick. There are rogues in the forest and when out on a hunt with the crew, they catch said rogue, Jungkook. Many good twists and turns and some good enemies that actually do bad. Unlike those soft enemies who are kinda just...there.

Broken (before I met you) (36611 words) by peachywritten Soft. So soft and cute at the heart. Good pacing.

(k)not stuck (11550 words) by carameLIZed_suga Raunchy neighbour/nemesis read that was also pretty funny.

A Tale of Amber and Honey (74960 words) by carameLIZed_suga Old friends to lovers with some well deserved angst in ABO world. Really enjoyed this!

chasing dusk, catching dawn (17221 words) by carameLIZed_suga First ever fic I've read featuring and enigma wolf. Really primal hunt-and-be-hunted dick-swinging competition and a bit violent in the good way if you can handle it.

Harder Than a Diamond (21652 words) by carameLIZed_suga Another raunchy fic. Probably less violent than the one above but crime boss Jungkook is always a win.

Clueless with a Pinch of Chilli (35000 words) by Vitamin_PJM Their friends set Jimin up on blind dates after he gives up on Jungkook. Jikook are two idiots who deserve each other and are cute and clueless in the process.

In A Rut (21935 words) by Gylliweed Jungkook struggles with violent ruts and Jimin helps coach him through it. Really like how this was approached.

The Gathering (43406 words) by Gylliweed Every year trials are completed and the winner can ask for whatever they want. Jungkook and Jimin are both gunning for the win when they start catching feeeeelings. Damn I loved this one. Ate it up like a sweet apple pie.

Fragile (68881 words) by Neoneun_na I don't remember this super well but I do remember it being soft. Good feels.

The Courage To Live (128832 words) by infinitetwinkles Timid Jimin and caring Jungkook. Classic dynamic and story.

There for You (29788 words) by Ocean_View_Song Softmore Jimin is pining for senior Jungkook who gets possessive when a threat arises. Very cute and we love a good jeonlous story.

To Hurt and To Heal (40587 words) by rinnieluv Solo mama Jimin comes across Jungkook when on the run and so the story unfolds. Touching connections and cute pups.

Nepenthe (81318 words) by cakeandruin Jimin is an omega who goes against the packs norms but meets an alpha werewolf who can transform, unlike him. Everyone is scared of Jungkook and they live on the outskirts of the pack together in the woods. It's a domestic and sweet story, would probably even call it a classic ABO.

your fingerprints on my heart (5850 words) by nimy Jimin thinks alpha Jungkook can't stand him, but the cutie is misunderstanding the dummy's intentions. Nice, quick read.

Other Fics:

Sunflower (152054 words) by merryasoul Enemies to lovers fic that I waited to read. Me. Waiting. Patiently to read this because it was so good. I remember stumbling on this and staying up all night to read the first chapters that were out because the great characters and details captured me and the build up over years with Jikook really hooks you. I seriously recommend you read this if you haven't already and give the author some loove.

soft animal (46729 words) by paliampelo Jungkook has amnesia after a car accident. We all know the first original Jikook amnesia fic and I think this is a nice one too in its own way.

the joy of sex (31410 words) by decompositionbooks Roomates fic - Jungkook makes love in his room and seems like a sex god and Jimin is curious. Solid.

Top Chooks (17177 words) by carameLIZed_suga Rivals to lovers fic where Jimin and Jungkook play gay chicken at a party. Hilarious and hot.

And thats a wrap!

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. I tend to pile up fics in my bookmarks and wanted to clear them out somehow - I've decided, this will be my approach going forward so stay tuned for the next one.

[azurlily]

Guess whose not dead?!

(This is an actual post with a character, just scroll down to the pink bow if you don't want to read this.)

I was in and out of the hospital for a long time. I'm sorry I haven't been writing, but I'm doing so much better. I've closed requests so I can catch up on the ones I currently need to do.

I also wanted to mention some of the newer works(that AREN'T being requested) that I plan to make will probably be either smut or darker stuff. It's a way for me to cope and I enjoy writing altogether.

Yandere!CEO x Fem!Reader

Morena(yan!ceo) x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're a young woman working in the tech industry, you know people(mostly men) don't take you seriously. Due to the constant stress of needing to be better (just to be considered good) you are constantly anxious and jittery, you've also developed a depressive mindset and you consistently struggle with taking your medication.

You just got a new job by a large, female owned, tech company! You thought you'd feel better and you wouldn't have to deal with a toxic environment. You were dead wrong; your boss is a bitch and expects constant perfection and no less. You were just barely able to make it under her radar, until she starts going through files- and you find yourself in her office with a deal you just aren't allowed to refuse.

Not like you can refuse a demon after all?

TW: Non-consensual kissing and physical touch, somewhat mentions future kidnapping.

The reader is kissed(while under a spell that takes away will-power from their body) and is forced to sign a contract against their wishes.

You stand quietly, with your hands in front of you- clasped together so tightly you'd think you were about to get in your knees and pray. But no, instead you were ready to beg to not be fired.

That's what this was right? You were getting fired and your horrible, asshole, bitch-faced boss wanted to say it to your face. You could cry, you almost did on the way here.

Yet as much as you wish you weren't in this situation, as much as you wish you could repent for whatever you did; you genuinely have no idea why you've been called here. You've never gotten a write up, all your reports are clean and bug free, and you work well with seemingly everyone.

You stand face forward, staring at the woman who decides wether you get to eat for the next month. The same woman who while you hate her, you can't -no you won't- deny her beauty. You-

"Hello?! Do you hear me or are you too busy pissing yourself to pay attention?"

You look down, wondering if you genuinely did pee yourself, only to see dry pants and floor. You look back up at her and she gives you the look of someone who both wants to laugh and yell(not in the good way).

You wondered if there was something who had tried to sue her for how rude she was. I'm sure there could be some sort of case, as long as there was proof. Hell, even witnesses would do.

"Sorry, ma'am. What exactly is it you called me for? Has my team done something wrong, did we miss some meeting, or did-"

She stands up, slamming her hand on the desk so loudly it echoes. You nearly jump out of your skin- was she going to hit you?!

"Be quiet. I can't handle you prattling on like a cow. I'm not firing you, nor am I firing anyone on your team. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Oh and please- call me Miss Morena. Thank you."

Oh she is definitely a condescending bitch.

You thought for a moment, 'quite the opposite'. So you aren't getting fired, hell you may be getting a raise! Maybe Morena wasn't so bad of a boss. Maybe she just likes hard workers.

"Thank you, ma- Miss Morena. If I may ask: does this mean I'm getting a promotion?"

Morena smiles, not the smile you give someone when they're right about something. The smile you give when you're a fox, and you've just cornered the bunny you've been trying to catch.

"Yes, a promotion of sorts. I actually have a contract for you, but I can give you the gist and read the rest to you later."

Morena pulls an inch thick stack of papers from the desk. She sets them aside with a pen and slowly steps out from the desk. Morena signals you to come closer, but you only take a few steps forward. You could practically feel how badly this situation was going to go.

As Morena got closer, you began to feel more compelled to make eye contact with her. Like someone was whispering into the back of you mind, telling you to look up. To look into the beautiful blue eyes that Miss Morena holds. To never look away; keep your eyes on hers.

Don't look away from me. I always get what I want and that isn't changing anytime soon, little rabbit.

"Well I've been looking over employee information and I noticed you moved from very, very many jobs before you got to this one. Never staying in one place. I never really liked people like that, and from what I've seen, people like that have done the same with my company. Now I hope -very strong word here- that someone with skills like yours wouldn't do something to this company. I hope that you'd stay, willingly of course. You would stay willingly, right?"

Of course you would, you never had any interest in leaving. You planned to stay past the one year mark, past the time where everyone would get raises in order to ensure you were getting a that this place was a good opportunity. You loved it here, you loved you teammates, your boss, you loved the office building itself.

"Of course I'm staying, Miss Morena. I would never leave."

The words coming out of your mouth felt robotic, they felt like you were lying to yourself and others. Like you were in your body, but you weren't the one speaking.

"Good girl, now go over to my desk and sign you name on all of those papers. Don't read them, you don't need to. You can put all your trust in me."

You did exactly as you were told, you signed every paper with you signature. You didn't even think, your body was moving like second nature. You had this warm feeling in your gut, this safe and controlled feeling. You like feeling like this- don't you?

You hear some shuffling behind you and yet you can't turn around to see what's going on. You only hear a voice.

"You know while your under I guess I can explain. You can't really yell at me or try to run away, so I can speak my peace. You're going to be the newest human I suck the life out of! But hey, for the next few months you'll get to live lavishly and without fear of anything. Other than me of course!"

Your brain registered what she was saying, but you couldn't respond. What were you doing to do? What could you do?

"Come here bunny."

You turn around and walk straight into Morena's arms. She gently grabs your face, you just noticed three of her fingers on her left hand have been filed down. Meanwhile the nails on her right hand, as well as her pinky and thumb on her left, are long and colorful.

Morena pulls you closer to her, her lips ghosting over your mouth. You feel her press her lips to yours and you get an overwhelming feeling of disgust wash over you. You feel nothing but utterly dirty as she kisses you, you feel like someone's just stabbed you and is trying to clean the wound to make themselves feel better about the act.

Your eyes are wide open the entire time, so you watch Morena go from kissing you deeply to pulling back in what looks to be shock. Her pupils dilate slowly, her eyes relaxing and you see nothing but black take over.

"Oh...oh you're much too sweet to kill."

Morena gently moves you head to the side pressing her tounge against your neck. You feel her shiver and watch as she pulls back with a dark smile on her face.

"I take back what I said about you enjoying these next couple of months. . . You'll get to enjoy such pleasures for the rest of your life. With me."

You let your body process her words this time, you don't know how to react. Instead you feel your eyes wet themselves, your expression hadn't even changed. And yet, you were crying. Morena notices almost immediately and you watch her face distort itself into a disdainful look of annoyance, until it twists into one of sadistic pity.

"Oh, shh, bunny. Hush now, stop those tears. I'll take the spell down once were home, in my home you wont be able to run away. So you can have a tantrum all you want there. I know you don't like me right now, you maybe even hate me, but give it some time. You'll realise you need someone, and I'm the best you'll be getting for the rest of your pathetic human life."

Everything goes black after that.

[comicaurora]

What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.

[writer-freak]

Lucifer's appreciation | Lucifer x Gn reader

Summary: Lucifer has a hard time accepting his feelings about you, but when he finally accepts them he really wants to show you how much he likes you.

Warnings: MDNI, first time writing smut, smut comes after the ribbons୨୧, tried my best to make it gender neutral and no genitals are mentioned, misunderstandings at the start, reader receiving oral, smut is pretty short, english isn't my first language

A/n: This is my first time writing smut so really I have no idea what I'm doing my friend helped a lot with writing the smut part. Smut will probably not be a regular occurrence on my blog because I really found it hard and needed quite a bit of help from her so you will notice her influence there.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

Lucifer who avoids you like the plaque, because it's the first time since Lilith left that he felt attracted to someone. And he doesn't really know what to do with himself, he is divorced so he doesn't owe loyalty to anyone. But still, he can't really let go of the feeling that he betray's his thousand-long-year marriage if he accepts his attraction for you.

And you who doesn't know what you did wrong, you thought about every interaction you two had, but couldn't come up with a reason why he avoids. You didn't like the weird energy between you two and the others also noticed the weird energy between you two. 

So you decided that you would follow what Charlie taught you and confront him about it (nicely of course).

Lucifer who doesn't know what to do when you suddenly corner him in front of his suite. He and you both know that he could easily get away from you but Lucifer couldn't move, you two were never this close, and right at this moment he could smell you, hear your breathing and your face was so close to his. His heart was beating out of his chest so it took him a second to register that you were saying something. "Wait what did you say?" Lucifer asked not having paid attention. 

With a sigh you took a step away before repeating yourself, "I asked if I did something to offend you?" 

This question left Lucifer completely confused, he couldn't understand where this question was coming from and it seems that this was also obvious on his face as you then added. 

"You avoid me like the plague, every time I go into a room you're in you leave. Really if there was something that I did wrong let me fix it, I don't want to make things weird around the hotel for everyone."

This made a light up in Lucifer's head and he let out a sigh, his usually confident demeanor faltering for a moment as he struggled to find the right words. "You haven't done anything wrong, really, trust me," he began, his eyes meeting yours. "I hadn't thought about how my behavior could make others uncomfortable."

You nodded, relief washing over you as you realized it wasn't something personal. "I'm glad to hear that," you replied softly, taking a step closer to him again. "I was worried there was something I did to upset you."

Lucifer hesitated, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.

"No, nothing like that," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky tone. "In fact, quite the opposite."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your own feelings jumping around at the change in mood. "What do you mean?"

A small, almost unnoticeable smirk formed on Lucifer's lips as he leaned in closer. "I've been avoiding you because I couldn't handle just how much I'm attracted to you," he admitted his voice low and filled with raw honesty. His confession left you with surprise but you also could feel your face heating up.

You two stood there an awkward silence between you two, after Lucifer took everything to confess to you it only felt right for you to take the next step. "I have something to confess too" you admitted, your voice mostly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Lucifer's curiosity was piqued, his eyes locked on yours, waiting for your words.

"I've been drawn to you since the moment we met," you confessed, your cheeks heating up even more. "Your charm, your confidence, just everything about you... it's irresistible."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Lucifer's lips, a flicker of something deeper passing through his eyes. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation in a more... private setting."

୨୧୨୧୨୧୨୧୨୧୨୧୨୧

His lips trailed down your neck, kissing and sucking on it, making pleasant shivers go down your spine. Lucifer left from where he was currently sucking a hickey into your neck and almost nervously asked, "Is this okay?" He nuzzled your cheek to soothe your nerves. You couldn't find the words to answer, so you pulled him in for another kiss. Lucifer made a surprised sound before pulling away. "I just really want to make sure that you don't regret this later."

You smiled reassuringly, finding it endearing how much he cares about you. "Lucifer, I want this, please," you drew out the last word, showing Lucifer just how desperate you were for this. Lucifer leaned in for a chaste kiss on your lips. "If you're sure then please, let me take care of you."

He went back in, kissing your neck, but this time he trailed down. He let his lips wander around your chest while his hands were on your waist. No part of your skin was left untouched by his lips. You were left feeling impatient as Lucifer took his time appreciating you. He slowly continued down until he reached the waistline of your pants. He stroked the bare skin of your waist before opening your pant button. He slowly pulled down your pants, kissing the skin of your legs that were slowly exposed. After pulling your pants completely off, he kissed his way up. But he never put his mouth where you actually needed him.

"Lucifer, stop teasing, please." you pleaded the neediness obvious in your voice.

Lucifer chuckled, looking up at you from between your thighs. "Can't you let me appreciate you?"

"Well maybe if you weren't working me up so much I could appreciate you appreciating me." you said with a huff.

He just chuckled again and nipped at your thighs while looking directly into your eyes. The eye contact made you throb, and you think Lucifer knows exactly what kind of effect this has on you. Lucifer started sucking more hickey into your thighs, which had you squirming and moaning with need. And while you wanted to tell him to hurry up, you knew that would just make him want to draw out the teasing.

He teased you for a bit longer before your breath hitched when Lucifer hooked his hands into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and off your feet. The cold air sent a chill down your body and made goosebumps rise on your skin.

This time he didn't waste time wrapping his lips around where you wanted him this whole time. He took one of your hands, burying it in his hair, encouraging you to tug at it while he started sucking. You tightened your grip on his hair when you started feeling the familiar pleasure. He alternated between licking and sucking, somehow knowing exactly where you were most sensitive.

This was exactly what you were craving the entire time. You couldn't deny that Lucifer seemed to be an expert, and you felt a familiar coil twisting embarrassingly quickly in your stomach. You moaned and panted as Lucifer seemingly just doubled his effort the closer you got to your release. You began to move along to help you reach your orgasm. All the while, Lucifer couldn't take his eyes off of you, completely stunned by the sight of you getting pleasure just by using his mouth.

It filled him with pride seeing you enjoying yourself, and Lucifer let out a moan that sent hot white pleasure through your entire body. Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you rode out your high. Lucifer didn't stop until you started trying to pull him away from you because of the overstimulation.

He kissed around your thighs again as you caught your breath again. When it seemed like you calmed down enough to think again, he moved up from between your legs to kiss you again. "So I take it that you enjoyed yourself." he said with a proud smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes, lightly pushing at his shoulder before answering sarcastically, "I don't know where you would get that idea."

Lucifer's smirk only widened at your sarcastic response. "Oh, I don't know, maybe it was the way you were practically pulling me in for more." he teased, his tone full of amusement.

You scoffed, but the slight smirk on your face betrayed your bluff. "You wish." you retorted while crossing your arms.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing way. "I don't need to wish when I can see the truth written all over your face." he remarked, his voice husky again.

You tried to maintain your composure, but his closeness and the remnants of what you did just now made it difficult. "Fine, maybe I enjoyed myself a little." you admitted, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Lucifer's grin turned into a smug expression, his confidence radiating off him. "A little? My dear, I'd say you were thoroughly enjoying yourself." he remarked, his arrogance only adding to the playful banter.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time there was a genuine smile on your face. "Well okay, I suppose you weren't bad. But I think I should now show you how it's really done." you teased back, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Lucifer broke free from the kiss and with a chuckle added, "I can't wait to see what you have planned."

Divider by: @thecutestgrotto

Mdni divider by : @cafekitsune