Tru Fru, Cramps & You • M.Rempe
summary:Y/N was dealing with her time of the month. Her cramps were becoming unbearable no matter how many times she tried to subside the pain. All she wanted was her boyfriend, Matt and Tru Fru strawberries. Thankfully, Matt being the superhero boyfriend he is came to her rescue.
The agonizing pain in Y/N’s lower abdomen had sharpened into something far more painful than before, tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she curled in tighter under the weight of her comforter. Her heating pad had stopped working mid use, the pain meds weren’t working, and she had officially hit that point in the cycle where she just… broke.
Curled on her side in her darkened bedroom, wearing Matt’s old Rangers hoodie and a pair of pink fuzzy socks she didn’t remember putting on, Y/N felt like her body had betrayed her.
She wasn’t trying to be dramatic. She just hurt.
Her stomach clenched again, pulling a sob from her throat. She buried her face into her pillow, feeling hot tears slide down her cheeks. Her hair was a messy halo around her head — the brown strands clinging to her skin. The pain wasn’t just physical anymore. It was emotional. Overwhelming. Heavy. Like her body had been invaded by something cruel and exhausting.
And, God, all she wanted — desperately — were those damn addicting Tru Fru chocolate strawberries and Matt’s arms around her.
The thought of him made her cry harder.
She hadn’t texted him yet. He was probably at practice or something team-related, and the last thing she wanted to do was pull him away with a dramatic, “Hey, I’m a sobbing crampy disaster, please come hold me.”
But she missed him. Needed him.
She reached for her phone with shaky fingers and sent a single text:
I’m dying. Please come over if you can. And bring Tru Fru chocolate strawberries. Please.
She wasn’t expecting a response right away.
But Matt — being Matt — texted back in less than a minute.
On my way sweetheart. Got the strawberries. Got you. I’ll be there in 15.
That alone made her cry again. But this time, it was relief.
Exactly twelve minutes later, she heard the lock click.
The sound of heavy footsteps, the rustle of a grocery bag, and the unmistakable clank of her boyfriend’s keys hitting the entry table.
“Y/N?” Matt’s voice called gently. “Baby?”
She tried to call out, but all that came was a weak whimper. A second later, Matt was in the doorway
There she was — tiny, curled up in the fetal position, her cheeks flushed and eyes red, Matt’s hoodie swallowing her frame as she shook with silent sobs.
He dropped everything and crossed the room in three long strides, climbing carefully into the bed beside her.
She reached for him blindly, and he caught her instantly, pulling her into his chest like he was made for it.
Matt cradled her like she was something fragile and sacred. His giant hand cradled the back of her head, his other arm wrapped securely around her waist, anchoring her in place.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ve got you baby.”
She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his jacket and his skin — warm, comforting, so Matt. He was still in his team-issued sweats, hair a little messy from his helmet, and hands slightly cold from the outside air. But she didn’t care. He was there. That’s all that mattered.
“I hate this,” she mumbled into him, voice hoarse from crying. “I feel awful. I can’t even move.”
Matt kissed her temple. “You don’t have to do anything. Let me take care of you YN.”
He shifted her gently onto her back, his hand sliding under the hoodie to rest against her lower belly. His palm was warm and steady, the pressure comforting.
“Do you want your heating pad?”he asked softly.
She frowned, eyes glassy. “It stopped working, I have another one in my kitchen could you grab me that and some water please?”
Matt didn’t hesitate. “Anything.”
He climbed out of bed carefully, tucking the blanket around her like she was a cocoon he was temporarily stepping away from. A minute later, she heard the microwave humming, water running, cabinet doors opening.
He returned like some kind of superhero — new heating pad plugged into the wall on the highest setting , water bottle filled, and a bag of her beloved Tru Fru chocolate strawberries.
“You actually found them?”
Matt grinned. “I may or may not have sprinted through three aisles at Whole Foods and stared down a teenage employee until he checked the stockroom.”
“You’re insane,” she whispered with a small smile, taking one with a shaky hand.
“Insanely in love with you,” he replied without missing a beat.
She giggled softly, chewing, and visibly relaxed when the heating pad hit her stomach. She closed her eyes as she munched on the Tru Fru.
Matt climbed back into bed behind her, positioning himself so she was spooned tightly against him. He curled his long body around hers, one leg thrown gently over hers, his chin resting on her shoulder.
They laid there for a while, breathing in sync, the quiet hum of his voice the only sound as he whispered things into her hair.
“You’re the strongest girl I know.”
“I hate that you’re in pain.”
“If I could trade places with you, I would in a second.”
She clutched his arm, tears falling again — but this time, they were quiet. Grateful.
“Matt,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Yes, I did,” he said simply. “Because I love you. And because this — you — are more important than anything else.”
She turned her face toward him and he kissed her gently, his lips brushing hers with so much tenderness it made her heart ache.
At some point, Matt carried her to the bathroom when her cramps flared again and she couldn’t walk.
At another point, he rubbed her lower back with firm, careful hands, easing the tight knots in her muscles.
He fed her more Tru Fru strawberries.
He distracted her with stories from practice — how he body-checked Schneider on accident and nearly caused a full-blown locker room soap opera because of it. How Trocheck told him he looked like an “angry spaghetti noodle” when he tried to fight someone in front of the bench. How Igor refused to let him play aux because Matt kept putting Taylor Swift on loop.
“I mean, who doesn’t love ‘Cruel Summer’?” Matt said, mock offended. “It slaps.”
Y/N giggled from under the blankets. “You’re such a menace.”
By midnight, the pain had subsided enough for her to breathe normally again. Her body was still heavy and sore, but Matt’s presence was the only medicine that worked.
He laid on his back, and she curled up on his chest, her ear pressed to his heartbeat listening to the steady rhythm which calmed her even more. His fingers played lazily with her hair.
“I ever tell you,” he said sleepily, “that I think you’re magic?”
She tilted her head up, blue eyes half-lidded. “Magic?”
“Yeah. Like… you feel like home. Even when you’re in pain. Even when you’re crying. I look at you, and everything feels right.”
She blinked hard with a small smile. “You’re gonna make me cry again. I’m am emotional wreck.”
“Let it out,” he said softly. “I got you.”
She nestled closer, lips brushing his neck. “Thank you. For tonight.”
“You never have to thank me for loving you sweetheart.”
of course i had to add cruel summer as the song, it just wouldn’t be right without it!! hope you enjoyed this sweet little fic. i wrote this while on my period and eating tru fru.
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
blakekathryn
