#my school hockey team asked me to come back even though i quit two years ago and haven't picked up a hockey stick since😭

[qulizalfos]

full circle moment

[ksnfangz]

EPISODE TWO — POLYAMOROUS COUPLE?

karaoke invites, date or no date?, hot basketball players and a jealous, jealous, jealous boysssss

You beam at the boy's note, fully content with the fact that the boy hadn't immediately shut you down. You chose to ignore the slight dig at your studying habits. Sunoo silently judged your giddiness as you smiled down at the crumbled piece of paper as if it were gold. " So I take it he's joining us tonight." Sunoo says currently doodling on his hand with a pen.

" Well not exactly! but he didn't say no." you replied tucking the note into your desk. " So are we supposed to wait all night to see if he shows up." Sunoo scoffs "Why couldn't he just give you a straight answer"

You shrug not at all bothered by Jungwon's indecisiveness you were just happy that he seems to be considering coming. Speaking of coming Sunghoon finally enters the class. "Rigged I tell you!" the boy shouts earning stares from his fellow classmates. " Hiw did Riki already make the basketball team when I've been trying to join since last year?" Sunghoon rants as he plops himself down into his seat. " I mean it isn't fair that he can just come into the school and already be a valued player!"

It was true, Sunghoon had been trying to join pretty much every sports team that the school had to offer, and the only one that gave him a chance was hockey since the boy was a very skilled ice skater, but Hoon complained about how he didn't want to turn a personal hobby into something competitive. Which you understood, but why the hell is he so obsessed with basketball all of a sudden?

" Maybe he's just as good as Heeseung and Jungwon! like Nabi said the other day." You claimed. " 1. Heeseung cannot be topped! I heard he's never missed a shot! 2. Jungwon is a team manager, not a player and Nabi never mentioned him." Sunghoon exclaims.

"There's no way he’s never missed..."

" That's so hot ."

" excuse me." You and sunghoon shout in unison.

"While I agree that Jungwon is hot I prefer to use the terms cute! or Handsome." you explain only to be waved off by Sunoo.

" I think basketball players are hot! especially Lee Heeseung and I wasn't referring to Jungwon he's like my brother." Sunoo says defensively. " I'm gonna go to the bathroom before class starts, be right back."

Sunghoon frowns. His eyes watched as Sunoo exited the classroom he knew the boy hadn’t really been feeling well today. Jealousy builds within the boy's stomach as he recalls sunoo’s earlier words. " You know what, I'm gonna be the best damn player on the team!" he states firmly.

“ dream on hoonie!”

"have either of you seen Ni-ki? he usually joins me for study hall but he wasn't there today." You ask approaching Sunghoon and Jungwon at their lunch table. Throwing your bag down without care not giving the two any time to respond as you rant about Sunoo leaving school early because he was sick. Which ultimately resulted in being alone and bored for most of the day when you weren’t with Sunghoon or Ni-ki.

Speaking of Ni-ki, over the past week, you had grown quite friendly with the Japanese boy. Sometimes help him study his Korean while he teaches you and Sunghoon how to play basketball and some Japanese. Though you’re positive he’s only taught you both curse words so far. Sunghoon recently received a detention after saying hello to his teacher is Japanese.

When the two boys shake their heads in response to your previous question a pout forms on your lips as you finally sit down at the table. “ I even brought him some Bungeoppang he says his mom used to make it all the time.” you say pulling out a small plastic container and grabbing one of the fish-shaped pastries for yourself.

“ you really can’t be away from him for an hour?” Jungwon asks his tone coming off a bit harsher than he expected. You look up at the boy confusedly before a teasing smile creeps onto your face.

“Aww is my jungwonie jealous? Don’t worry I have not given up on you yet! Ni-ki is my friend, I always miss my friends” you shrug ignoring the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes at your persistent flirting.

“ t-that’s not what– I’m not jealous … whatever.” Jungwon mumbled stuffing rice into his mouth hoping that the burning sensation in his cheeks came from the steam.

“ y/n-chan~” said an all too low voice.

“ Ni-ki! where were you? you skipped study hall you know you could get into real trouble for that.” You scold pulling the male to sit next to you. “ For your information, I was with the basketball coach he gave me an official schedule! we have a game coming up soon and I want you guys to be there.” Ni-ki says gesturing to the group. “ oh and Sunoo too, if he’s feeling better by then.”

“ We would love to come cheer on our star player! right hoonie?” You smile hugging Ni-ki's arm, Sunghoon sending you a knowing glare before agreeing to come. “ what about you jungwonie?”

“ I’m team manager I have to be there y/n.” Jungwon states coldly eyes locked into the way your arms are wrapped around the male next to you. “ Oh yeah! I almost forgot. Well, I’ll make sure to text Sunoo and let him know.” you nod mostly to yourself letting go of Ni-ki to offer him the BUNGEOPPANG you’d made for him.

“ Also Ni-ki we’re going to karaoke tonight! you should join us.” You say once again catching Jungwon's attention.

so it isn’t a double date …

“ As much as I would love to I have some studying to catch up on and my dad wants me to practice more.” Ni-ki replies politely declining the invite. You and Sunghoon groan in annoyance. “ come on Ni-ki you’ve practiced enough.” Sunghoon claimed with a mouth full of rice.

“ Exactly ~ all you’ve been doing is practicing and studying ever since you got here let’s have some fun.” You whine dramatically.

You were technically correct. When he wasn’t with you he was usually in the library studying or in the gym with his father. Also, the way you were currently looking at him and holding his hand made him want to immediately accept your offer, so he did. One missed practice couldn’t hurt.

“ Fine it’s a date, but you owe me! I’m gonna get in huge trouble for this.” the boy said taking some of the rice from your untouched plate. “ That’s okay if someone tries to scold you send them my way… I know a guy.” you whisper into the boy's ear causing him to laugh.

“ wait does that make us an official polyamorous couple?” Sunghoon asks earning a stare from the pair across from him. “ What he’s the one who called the group hangout a date yet I’m weird for wanting more reassurance on our relationship status?” Sunghoon exclaims lifting his hands in defense.

“ as if you’d ever let Sunoo near another man.”

“ says the girl who hasn’t let Ni-ki go since he got here.”

The sound of silverware clattering pulls your attention to the male across from you. Said male quickly dismissed himself leaving the table without another word. “ What’s up with him?” Ni-ki questions.

“ That’s just how he is you know. Kinda like an angry cat.” Sunghoon claims. “ A cute angry cat.” you correct.

“ here she goes again.” Sunghoon sighs. “ You know some people say i also look like a cat.” Ni-ki adds before the table falls silent.

prev . masterlist . next

a/n : sorry for slow updates and sorry for this shitty chapter!! school is kicking my ass as usual, it’s end of the year exam/ test season. || sorry for any spelling / grammar errors i’ll edit this later. enjoy!

Tag list : @aloloveswonie @soobs-things @yerisrev @gudkc @wonitten @jwonistic @kangseulgithegreat @icepshrince @hizhu @nyfwyeonjun comment or send ask to be added :) !! if your name is not tagged it means i wasn’t able to tag ur user, please check ur settings!

©KSNFANGZ. please do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works without permission!

[matthewbeilschmidts]

It’s been a long while since I’ve posted but I’m so glad that I am :’)

This is for Day 1: of @prucanweek - Ordinary

Apologies for spelling errors, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy 😭💞

-

Matthew doesn’t mind that he’s living an ordinary life. Really.

He grows up near the coast, two parents, a fraternal twin brother, and their gangly hairless cat, Tony (picked curtesy of Alfred). Their parents take them everywhere they can during their childhood, the beach, museums, sports game. They focus on their interests, figuring out what the two like and dislike, as they encourage them both to be themselves and do what they love no matter what. Alfred debates between whether he likes wrestling or football more, while Matthew settles into hockey. In between family get togethers, community festivals, and endless sports training, they somehow have time for homework. (The two share answers a lot.)

He and Alfred each have their own rooms when they enter their teen years, a space to decorate and fill with their own mementos and awards. The sports continue, but later their parents find themselves a little bit busier than before. They do though, give them as much time as they can during the school year, never wanting them to go without someone by their side.

Matthew fades into the background a little bit as they get older, while Alfred puts himself front and center. Matthew watches once with a hand over his eyes as Alfred auditions for the school musical, and surprisingly he read and sings the lines well. “It’s always the rowdy ones!” their theater teachers says after he’s finished performing, a mix of anticipation from planning on putting Alfred on stage and dread at the thought of having to manage him.

Matthew silently supports him, after all he has his own things to do.

He’s the co-caption of the hockey team, the coach giving him the position to give him a little more of a voice, and his teammates verbally agree, considering on the ice Matthew has a lot more to show than he does in person. He accepts, albeit hesitantly.

By the time graduation comes by, Matthew can barely believe how the time has passed. His team even wins a championship under his watch. Some of his fellow classmates look so ready to go out and experience the world, and it’s scary to him because weren’t they all going at the same pace?

His parents talk him through picking his college of choice, and he decides to go. He needs to do what everyone does and experience the world.

And if he decides he wants to come home, that’s okay because at least he tries.

-

He’s in his first art class during his third year at university. The time has been going well, he’s got pretty decent grades and has managed to join a few clubs. But he’s not done yet. Extra curriculars, can’t finish without them. He prioritizes his general education first, and even slips himself into a few major classes early on, but humanities is on record now and has to be completed no matter what one’s studying.

He can get through one semester, he hopes.

Next to him, a student is snickering and the professor doesn’t look amused.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you’re done, I can introduce myself now.”

The professor goes in with complete, in-depth introductory slides with her name and credentials, and a briefing of all they will overcome this semester.

He’s never been an artist, at least not one that picks up a pencil and creates a realistic masterpiece with nothing but that and a pad of paper. Maybe some poetry contests in high school, if that counts. The written word has its own impact, its own set of colors to breathe out for the world to see.

There’s another snicker, interrupting his internal monologue.

He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know the student, and it’s not his place to control others. But, if it starts to hinder the class, maybe he’ll tell him something. He’s paying to be there, too.

The man catches him staring.

“Yes?” he asks Matthew without being spoken to in the first place.

“Oh,” Matthew flushes at being caught, not that he was trying to hide it anyway. “Well, she didn’t say anything funny?”

The guys waves a hand, making a “psssh” noise as he does.

“I’m just laughing because of how formal this all is. She won’t be this dignified later in the semester that’s for sure. She’ll be ripping her hair out.”

Matthew glances back, he doesn’t want to say anyone looks mean but, he would believe it if she was.

“You look scared,” the guy laughs, which is rude because isn’t he the one that just put the thought in Matthew’s mind? “She’s not too mean just a sticker to the rules. Will get real pissy if something doesn’t go right.”

“And you still set her off knowing that?”

The man laughs again, but this time around he’s actually trying to contain it behind the thin art easel. He’s not very hidden.

“She’s my cousin’s wife.”

Ah, that makes sense then? Messing with family is normal, but also he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“It’s no wonder you seemed casual.”

“She taught both of the lower division figure drawing classes, too. This is my third semester in her class. She’s the only one teaching this specific class I didn’t have too much of a choice.”

“Art major?”

“Yep! And you?”

“Psychology major. I have to get in some cultural classes.”

“Ever taken art?”

“Actually no, not even in high school. I got through that stuff by working backstage in the theater department.”

“Well not to worry my friend, because you picked the best one.”

“Is it easy to pass?”

“Nope. Well, maybe if she likes your work,” Matthew deflates at the blunt response, “but don’t worry because I’m here to be your guide.”

Matthew perks up, but it takes him a moment. This guy’s gonna help him?

“Are you any good?”

“Am I good?” He looks perplexed Matthew would even ask. Matthew has to cover his own amusement. “I may not look it but charcoal and I go way back. I’ll show you my work later as proof.”

“Deal.”

“Gilbert, since you’re adamant on talking, you can be the first to introduce yourself.”

Even if his name wasn’t said, Matthew feels just as guilty. Caught, for talking on the first day of all things.

“Gilbert Beilshcmidt. Fourth year. I’m an art major and my favorite breakfast food is pancakes.”

Matthew looks surprised that he was paying attention, even to the last addition of their introduction. Matthew’s not sure he would have known considering he was distracted.

-

And so their friendship starts.

-

Gilbert sits next to him again. And again.

Where ever Matthew sits in the art room, Gilbert follows not too long after.

Some days they take the sitting desks, some they stand and lean against the stools.

And despite not even talking much, Gilbert treats him like a friend.

-

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, this was my last class.”

“Do you want to get some coffee and work on our sketch books.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

-

Matthew finds himself meeting Gilbert in his downtime. Every Thursday after drawing for three hours becomes the day they meet. At first, all they do is draw, little more.

Gilbert is animated in all moments, but he has short spurts where he focuses exceptionally on his work. Matthew is no art critic, but he thinks Gilbert expresses himself quite well on paper. Graphite, charcoal, and pastels, all the utensils glide easily without a single stroke missing its mark.

Watercolor though, could use some work, which actually happens to be Matthew’s favorite. Even if the intention is to guide the colors with a brush, it’s okay for them to take a life of their own spreading across the thick paper.

They share snacks, art supplies, and their time.

Gilbert proves himself very useful as he promised. Matthew though never planning to be the next Van Gogh, has to pass this class. And it would be nice to pass it with flying colors, but some concepts are harder to grasp than others.

It’s obvious to tell he’s a beginner, while Gilbert excels. Matthew finds out he only now needs the intro class since it’s the first semester it became a requirement.

Gilbert helps him find the shapes he’s comfortable with, explains the processing for hatching and how it relates to shading. And while he’s no expert, he sees a subtle improvement over the next few weeks that makes some pride swell within himself.

-

“Do you want to come with me and my friends to this cool bar for dinner on Friday?” Gilbert asks about a month into the semester.

It’s the first time Gilbert and him will have spent time off campus.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

-

Gilbert’s friends are just as animated as he, it’s almost hard to keep up. Overwhelming as they are, they’re extremely welcoming. Matthew eases into the atmosphere, joining in when he can but mostly pleased to be out and doing something different.

He’s made friends during his time, but like him they’re a little more reserved and pick quieter places on the town.

It’s fun. And he wants to go out again.

Matthew invites Gilbert and his friends to watch his next hockey game.

After their shock in finding out he plays such a violent sport, they’re all agreeing and planning to find the best seats in the arena.

-

“Are you serious. Are you hiding muscles under that red sweater?”

Gilbert pokes at him, it tickles when he gets closer to his biceps, but he knows he’s only teasing.

“You think I’m playing but I’m serious! You should have been there, well you were there. On the stands, I mean. We all screamed after you sent that player flying against the wall.”

Gilbert recreates the motions, but only slams himself into the wall and whines after he bounces back. He then plays it off like it doesn’t hurt. Gilbert’s not a very good actor.

People tell him it’s so much different watching him on the ice, but it’s still him. He’s always wondered how much different, he feels like himself. He just knows he goes into the zone when he’s in his gear. He just wants to win. And he will.

“It’s like night day,” Gilbert continues. “You were ready to kill a man down there.”

“You’re not the first to say that. I guess maybe, I could be a little more out there in real life, huh?”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. I like the way you are, so don’t go change. I don’t want to be at risk of dying during art class.”

And as silly as it sounds, he’s pleased. He likes Gilbert a whole lot, too. Just the way he is.

-

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Matthew takes the initiative.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just you and me. I want to take you out.”

“Like you did to that guy on the court,” Gilbert laughs nervously.

“On a date. Gilbert, would you like go out with me?”

He says yes.

Later that evening when he’s heading home, Gilbert starts running through the courtyard cheering that “I have a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever met!”

Matthew’s window is open, he’s face is bright red and he slams head first into his pillow. He needs to plan the best first date ever.

-

Three months into dating, he’s finally heading home again for a school break. He wants to take Gilbert with him, who is waiting for the next major holiday to go back home. But isn’t it too soon? They haven’t been dating that long, after all.

But Gilbert surprises him, and jokingly says he wants to go with him because he’ll miss him too much while he’s gone. And then, Matthew asks if he seriously wants to go.

“I do.”

So they ride the 3 hours train down to Matthew’s childhood home. He’s a little bit nervous, because he’s had dates to school dances, and brought friends over, but this is entirely different. This is someone he wants to take a serious step with, even if the time hasn’t been that long. They’ll never get anywhere if they don’t, so they’ll both take the leap and pray it works out.

“Mom, dad, Alfred, this is Gilbert.”

It’s the most timid Matthew’s ever seen him.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Matthew’s boyfriend.”

After he shakes all their hands, he takes his hand back to link pinkies with Matthew.

There’s not an once of regret in his mind as the long weekend passes.

-

Gilbert graduates the next year, and the year after it’s his turn. They’re going to move in with each other. Gilbert really has no irresistible urge to go back to his home town, satisfied with just visiting a few times a year. And Matthew thinks he would like to go back closer, just to figure out his next move. So, they go together.

It’s only a one bedroom, but is more than enough space for them both. Gilbert finds work as a docent while Matthew works for a second degree in education.

He still plays hockey for a local league, Gilbert becoming their number one fan. They find their own rhythm, a pace that works for them both, where they can settle down or speed up when they agree with each other. Dewey mornings, warm summers, chilly evenings they spend them altogether.

They decide move up North closer to Gilbert’s hometown. Matthew’s more nervous meeting his grandparents than he was introducing Gilbert to his own family, but Gilbert assures him again and again they’re just a stuffy old family who actually really care about each other a lot more than they let off.

Gilbert’s grandfather towers over him, despite being a hair above 6 feet. He’s silent, eyes boring into Matthew as he introduces himself. And to end all of Matthew’s worries, the elder man pulls Matthew into a hug and tells him he’s glad him and Gilbert are home. Gilbert, just as perplexed as he, stares, but he melts into a pleased laugh.

Yeah, this is his and Gilbert’s home now.

-

They stay, for a long while, contemplate moving a few times, but they’re satisfied for now.

Gilbert and him always make time for each other, continue their own respective interests with complete support of the other. They’re never afraid to complain, because they always work through it rather then let it simmer.

Gilbert’s vivacious spirit keep them going, and Matthew’s heart keeps them grounded.

His life at first seem a little bit ordinary, but how can he complain when the pieces of the puzzle fit themselves in and stayed locked in tight.

[wonder-womans-ex]

When In Vegas

It was loud in the locker room the next morning, but Saint was quiet.

Three days had passed since someone else’s world had been turned upside down, and Saint wasn’t sure whether he was more angry or scared—or relieved that it hadn’t been him.

Those fucking pictures, god. He had stared for hours, maybe more, hands frozen around his phone. The knowledge was unbearable—someone had done this. Someone was out to get people like them.

People like him.

But, in a way, it was also liberating. If he had to guess, he would say that no one had known about Black and Lupin. Judging from the way Tremblay had acted at All-Stars, they probably hadn’t even told their team, and god knew Saint hadn’t told his.

So, really, who was to say he was the only one? Any of the guys here, unlacing their skates beside him, could have grown up amidst thoughts of don’t look and stay silent and focus on the hockey. Any of the guys here could have had boyfriends in high school or college. Any of them could still.

He reveled in the thought. Maybe he wasn’t alone.

Black. Lupin. Tweedle.

Three names on a list wasn’t many, but it was better than one.

Saint glanced up when he felt someone watching him. His eyes met a pair of gleaming yellow ones—before meeting Greyback, he hadn’t even known that eyes could be that colour—and he steeled himself, resolutely not looking away.

Greyback smiled, and Saint recoiled internally. If there were others on the team—others in the league—Greyback was certainly not one of them.

As if Saint would ever, in a million years, want him to be.

He pulled off his second skate with one good, sharp tug. His helmet sat on the bench beside him, and he rested one elbow on it briefly. It was common knowledge that playing professional hockey was difficult, but the thing most people didn’t know was how near-impossible it was just putting on and taking off the necessary gear.

Next, after his skates, were his shin pads—big, bulky things that got hot altogether much too quickly, but at least they protected his legs. Then his jersey, his shoulder pads, his pants, until he Saint could finally lift his undershirt over his head and make his way to the showers.

The warm water felt like bliss against his aching muscles, but a part of him still pleaded to skip this bit and head straight home. All he really wanted was to curl up in bed with a bowl of ramen—decidedly not on his diet plan, but, hey, a guy could dream—and an episode of Drag Race.

And, of course, Luke. But he wasn’t allowed to think about that. Not here.

Or maybe, he realized, mind darting back to pictures taken through the windshield of a car, he could.

He had just begun to put on a pair of jeans and a tank top—grey, with the Golden Knights logo on the front and his name and number on the back—when there came a shout from the other side of the locker room.

“Hey, Tweedle!”

It was Pettigrew, one of his teammates, brandishing a ring of keys in the air. “Need a ride?”

Saint forced a smile. “Nah; I’m good. My roommate’s picking me up. Thanks for the offer, though.”

Pettigrew smiled back. “All right. See you tomorrow, Tweedle.”

“Yeah,” said Saint as he turned back to his stall. “See you.”

He packed up his gear in a sort of half-trance, thinking less about where he was and more about where he was soon to be. Saint loved hockey, true, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t love other things, too.

Other people.

The army green jeep was already waiting for him outside. He glanced around briefly, scanning the parking lot for any of his teammates, then pulled open the passenger side door. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d checked to see if anyone was watching—it was, after all, nothing out of the ordinary: just a completely heterosexual hockey player getting into his completely heterosexual roommate’s car.

“Hey,” Saint said, meeting Luke’s gaze in the rearview mirror and grinning.

“Hey yourself,” Luke responded, a teasing tone to his voice. “How was practice?”

Saint just shrugged. “Same as always, I suppose. What are we having for dinner?”

Many things could be said for Luke Deveaux, and one of them was that he was a master of recognizing a subject change when he heard one. “Thought I’d finally cook up that chicken that’s been sitting in the freezer. Sound good to you?”

“Sounds fucking incredible. You really do know the way to a man’s heart.”

They smiled at each other again as Luke pulled out onto the main road—the soft kind of smile that said everything for them. Carefully, Saint reached out, resting a hand on Luke’s leg. The simple contact was really all they needed as they both looked back out to the road ahead, letting silence envelop them.

Finally, when they came to a stop at the second or third red light, Luke looked over. “What is it?” he asked quietly—genuinely, in a way only he could.

Saint made a noise of confusion. “What’s what?”

“You’re thinking.”

This time, Saint didn’t say anything for quite a while. He kept his eyes forward as the light turned green and Luke began to drive again. Eventually, just as Luke had begun to think that he wouldn’t get a response at all, Saint spoke up: “What if I introduced you to my teammates?”

Luke had a feeling he knew what Saint was getting at, but he wanted to be sure. “I’ve met a couple of them,” he said, slowly. “Pettigrew. Reaves. Dearborn. Greyback—though I didn’t like him much.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Saint said, and took a breath before continuing. “I meant like… what if I introduced you to them as my boyfriend?”

“Husband,” corrected Luke idly, jerking the wheel to the right.

“Right, yeah. But I’d still probably introduce you as my boyfriend, because, y’know—”

“Nineteen.”

“—Elvis.”

Another beat of silence. Another deep breath. “And I just thought—I was thinking that—that…”

Luke waited.

“Obviously I wouldn’t want to come out to the whole world. Not yet,” said Saint, starting again, “but… you know. People know about Black and Lupin—though they didn’t get to tell people; people were told for them. And if I said something, maybe… maybe, if there are others, they’d know… they’d know they aren’t alone.”

It was Saint’s turn to wait, now, as Luke took a left onto a side street and narrowly missed the curb. He swallowed back the slight lump in his throat—he’d said his bit; now it was time for Luke to say his.

“I love you.” Luke’s words were hushed, and, yeah, it was always nice to get reassurance, but that didn’t really clear anything up.

“I love you, too.”

“And I—” Luke sighed. “Can I have a little while? To think about it? Or, rather, not to think about it, but to think about how I’m going to say it.”

Tilting his head, Saint looked thoughtfully over at the man in the driver’s seat. “Yeah. Yeah; of course. Take all the time you need. It was just something I was thinking about.”

“But you’ve been thinking about it for a while.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well, if the better part of three days counts as ‘a while,’ then, yeah; I guess. Consciously, at least. Subconsciously… maybe longer.” He shrugged. “Who knows. All I do know is that I’m absolutely crazy for you, and I’d like someone who isn’t us or the guy who officiated our wedding to know that.”

“Especially because he almost definitely doesn’t remember either of us anymore.”

“Exactly.”

This next pause was different from the previous ones—more pause-like, though that didn’t make sense, even in Saint’s head.

“It’s like,” said Luke, thoughtfully, as he turned onto their street, “remember when we got married? And neither of us said anything about it for almost a month?”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember why?”

“Um, because typically you don’t get married to someone you’ve only been dating for a week and a half?”

The car slowed to a stop in front of their house. Luke pulled the key out of the ignition and sat back in his seat. “Bingo.”

When he didn’t elaborate, Saint asked, tentatively, “And, uh, what does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s like that, because I could only see that going one of two ways: either we stayed in a marriage neither of us was ready for, or we ended both the marriage and the relationship. And so, of course, the solution my nineteen-year-old and slightly stupid self came up with was to ignore the situation entirely. You can’t annul a marriage that you don’t acknowledge exists, right?”

Saint furrowed his brow. “But… we didn’t annul the marriage.”

“Exactly.”

“...I think you’ve lost me.”

“Yeah; probably.” Luke sighed “I’m going about this all wrong. I suppose the thing I keep getting stuck on is that it would make everything more difficult if—you know.”

“No,” Saint said, “I don’t know.”

“If we broke up.” It all came out in one breath, and Luke looked anywhere but at Saint while he said.

Suddenly, Saint found it difficult to breath. “You—you think we’re going to break up?”

“No. No; god, of course not. It’s just one of those irrational fears; yeah? Like, you know the elevator isn’t going to break and send you falling to your death like Tower of Terror, but you still worry about it.”

“Not quite sure I follow.” Saint waited a moment, then added, “So… I take it you aren’t planning on breaking up with me?”

“Nope.” Luke smiled as he said it, popping the p. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a little while longer.”

“A lot longer, hopefully.”

“Amen to that,” said Saint, then reached to unlock the car door.

“Wait,” Luke said quietly. “I’m… there’s something else.”

Saint turned back, letting go of the door handle. “Yeah?”

“I—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What was it?”

“I just—it’s been five years—or it will have been in a week, technically, but still—and… and I guess I was wondering if you… might like to do it again. That. Without Elvis, this time.”

“What, get married?”

Luke took a breath. “Yeah.”

“Again?”

“Jesus Christ, Saint; weren’t you listening to anything I just said? It doesn’t matter, anyway. Just—forget I said anything.” Now it was Luke’s turn to begin to open the car door, a rush of cold air seeping in through the gap.

“Wait—Tweedle—”

Luke paused. Saint didn’t often call him that, and, even when he did, usually when he was trying to be serious. It was something Saint would say when they were fighting—it was his way of saying I love you; I don’t regret being with you. It was not something Saint would say to someone he didn’t want to be married to.

“Yeah?” Luke didn’t look over—he kept his gaze on the sliver of pavement he could see in the space between the door and the rest of the car—but he could imagine the look on Saint’s face.

“I want to.”

“What?” He knew what Saint had said. He wasn’t asking for clarification. He was giving Saint one last chance to change his mind, and hoping desperately that Saint wouldn’t take it.

“I want to marry you. Fucking hell, of course I want to marry you. Again. Preferably sober this time. Definitely without Elvis.”

A noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sob escaped Luke’s lips. “Is that your way of proposing?”

“Actually, I think it was my way of accepting your proposal. And, either way, it was better than last time, when I think I just stuck my hand up your shirt and called it a day.”

This time, Luke really did laugh. “And they say romance is dead.”

“No kidding.” A pause, then, “Do you still have your ring?”

“Do I still have my—what kind of a question is that? Of course I do! I—” he cut himself off, clearing his throat. “Why? Do you still have yours?”

Saint looked down, avoiding Luke's eyes. His hand went to his neck, where he pulled out a thin gold chain. On it hung the ring Luke had given him so long ago: slightly battered and riddled with notches, but in a way better than it was when they had exchanged them all those years ago, giggling on the alcohol. "Of course I do." His voice was soft—almost timid. "I'm not sure I could have gotten rid of it if I wanted to."

Luke let himself smile. “I wear mine, sometimes, you know,” he said, in a voice nearly as gentle. “When you’re not around.”

“Yeah. I—I do, too.”

“I love you.”

Saint didn’t even think before he did it. He knew, somewhere, that it was a terrible idea—that this was exactly where Black and Lupin had gone wrong—but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Luke was his husband, goddammit, and if he wanted to lean across the console and kiss him until he forgot his own name, then nothing in the world was stopping him.

Well. Nothing except his seatbelt, and even that only took him a few brief moments to discard. Then he was turning in his seat and reaching out and cupping Luke’s cheek in the palm of his hand and whispering “I love you, too,” against his lips.

"God," Saint said, pulling away. "How could I ever have stopped."

Luke quietly laughed, pulling himself away from Saint's lips. "I don't know, love; it could have been you withdrawing yourself from me. It… it almost made me think you—well, not hated me, but at least that you regretted ever getting married."

Saint made a small sound, as if Luke's words were paining him. "I would never." His eyes were starting to water. "I could never. Sure, we were too young; sure, we were drunk. Sure, it was stupid. But it was the best mistake of my life."

Another laugh, this one slightly louder. “Best mistake of mine, too.”

Luke leaned in for another kiss. “Wait,” said Saint, ignoring the noise of protest he got in return. “I have to…”

Saint reached around the back of his neck, sighing in frustration as he fiddled clumsily with the clasp of his necklace. It took him a good ten seconds, but finally he was able to lift it off and slide the ring into the palm of his hand.

The thin gold band fit perfectly around his finger—the weight was familiar; the cheap metal had already been warmed by his body heat, almost as if he had never taken it off.

“People—” Luke cleared his throat. “People will ask questions.”

“I know.”

“And what—what will—”

“What will my answer be?”

“...Yeah.”

“Sweetheart,” murmured Saint, leaning in to brush their noses together, “there’s only ever been one answer.”

“And what’s that?” At this point, Luke was just playing along—and they both knew it.

“You.”

.

amazing characters by @lumosinlove

thank you so much to @im-oknutzy-trash for being my #1 supporter while I tried to get the words to work (and letting me use some of their words when mine inevitably didn't)

note: this is based off that one ask hazel received literal months ago about how if saint were in SW he'd be on the golden knights bc he looks good in gold. no one else seems to remember it, however, so maybe I imagined it. who knows.

and, yes, Saint's last name in this is Tweedle.

[atlafan]

The Tutor - Part Two

a/n: thank you all for the support on the original one shot. I just really love these guys, so I had to make a part two, and may even go back to them at some point for some other fun stuff, but for now, here’s the second half of fall semester! Read part one here! 

Warnings: angst, we start out with a lot of angst I’m so sorry. Plenty of fluff and smut to balance it out though! Partying, alcohol consumption. 

Words: 18.7K

Part Three

Harry thought he was going to be sick. There it was, sitting right in front of him on his desk: C-. For the life of him he couldn’t remember the last time he did so poorly on a test. It was for his Conversational French class. Harry knew French well, that’s why he was in a higher level course. Most students needed a full year of a language, but he only needed one because he tested out of the lower levels. It was his own fault.

The night before the test when he should have been studying he was buried deep inside Y/N. The hockey team had won an away game, and she asked him to come over for a little while and he physically couldn’t say no to her. He didn’t think he would end up staying the night, but he did. Y/N had whispered that she wanted to do it again, and she had pinned him down, and he sort of really liked that so once again he didn’t say no. And the way she was riding him and panting his name and looking down at him with her big eyes. Anyone would have stayed the night after that.

He knew he didn’t do his best on the test, but he thought he’d at least get a B, not a fucking C-. He sighs heavily as class ends.

“Monsieur Styles…” The professor makes a come her motion with her pointer finger. He turns around and walks over to her desk. “Normally I wouldn’t be so worried about a C, but you always get A’s on your tests, what happened?”

“I…I guess I didn’t study as much as I should have. Maybe I just got cocky and thought I knew the material more than I did…”

“Harry, you’re always going to the study group meetings, did you not go last week?”

“No, something else came up.”

“Like what?”

“Well…” He runs a hand through his hair. “My girlfriend is on the hockey team, and they just won a game on the road, and…” He sighs. “I know it’s not a great excuse, I’m sorry. I’ll buckle down for the next test.”

“Look, I know having a partner in college is very exciting. You’re an adult, you don’t have a curfew, and you don’t a have a parent telling you to keep the door open, but try to keep your priorities straight. You’re a very bright student, and I hate to see your grades suffer in this course, or others.” She takes a sip of her water. “I’ll let you in on a secret, but only because I thought you were going to wet your pants when you saw your grade. I tend to drop the lowest grades at the end of the semester, so you don’t have too much to worry about GPA wise, but try not to let this continue.”

“Okay, I promise I’ll do better on the next one. Thank you so much.” He smiles and leaves the classroom.

She was right, he didn’t want his other grades to suffer. Harry nearly had a 4.0, and he wanted to keep it that way. He needed to buckle back down, but he wasn’t quite sure how to explain this to Y/N. He liked spending his free time with her, but maybe he was being a little too available. It was almost time for their tutoring session, maybe in the seriousness of the library he could have this chat with her.

Y/N was overly excited to see Harry. She had wonderful news for him. She had spoken with her mom, and they both thought it would be a good idea to invite Harry home for Thanksgiving. He had explained that he just stayed on campus last year and that it was really boring. She bounces into the library looking cute as ever in her sweats, and goes over to their usual table. He was already set up and looking serious.

“Hey you.” She says, kissing his cheek. He gives her a soft smile as she sits down. “How’s your day been?”

“Alright.”

“Just alright?” She pouts. “Well, maybe explaining the difference between bonobos and apes to me will add some excitement.” She laughs and takes her books out. “I mean, I sort of get it. One group is super chill and sexual, and the other group is fucking crazy and aggressive. The main difference I noticed is that one group is matriarchal and the other group is patriarchal, so what I wanna know is, why don’t all people study these two groups? I find it to be absolutely fascinating, and-“

“Y/N, please!” Harry snaps. “Why do you even need my help anymore? It seems like you’ve got it.”

“I…well…I mean it’s helpful to talk these things through with you. I need to write a paper about this and I was sort of hoping you could guide me with my outline. Maybe point me to some good sources.” She chews on her bottom lip. “You don’t want to tutor me anymore?” God, he was so fucked for her. How did one girl hold so much power over him?

“It’s not that, I…I mean, we meet up like this twice a week for two hours, four hours total, and then we also meet up to do homework together other nights and that goes on for hours, and sometimes we don’t even end up doing homework, and…ugh, look at this!” He slaps his French test down on the table. She scans it over and gives him a confused look.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I got a C-, Y/N!”

“Is that bad?” She was genuinely confused.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s terrible! Luckily my professor told me she usually drops our lowest grades at the end of the semester, but what if this happens again?”

“Are…are you blaming me for your grade?”

“Well, I was at your place the night before my test when I should have been studying. You invited me over after you guys won your away game, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember you kissing and touching all up on me. You didn’t mention once that you had a test. If you did I would have told you to go home, or I wouldn’t have invited you over at all.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you right now. Just because you have poor time management doesn’t mean-“

“I do not have poor time management.” He seethes. “I have impeccable time management.”

“Well, apparently you don’t, otherwise you would have left more time to study for your fucking French test.” She huffs, and takes her highlighter out to help herself as she looks for quotes in her book.

“I can’t believe that you don’t even care that I got a bad grade.”

“That’s the difference between you and I, Harry. When I see a C, I don’t think it’s a bad grade. Had that been a D-, then okay I would probably be more concerned. You said it yourself, she’s going to drop your lowest grade, so it’s no big deal.” She looks at him. “You’re on the clock right now, aren’t you? I need your help with this.”

“Fine.” He leans closer to her and they work on her outline for a bit. They only talk about things related to the class. When ten of four hits, he starts packing up and so does she.

“You’re being a baby.” She mumbles.

“No I’m not. I have to keep up a specific GPA for the grant that I was given.”

“Yeah, same here, Harry. News flash, half of the students here have to keep up a specific GPA, you’re not special in that.” She slings her bag over her shoulder. “You can blame me all you want for your grade, but that’s on you. Learn some self-control because I will not be made into being a fucking distraction to some boy.”

Before he can say he’s more than just some boy to her and that he’s her boyfriend, she’s gone. Harry slumps forward and knuckles at his eyes. She made a fair point, he shouldn’t blame her for distracting him. He needed to create a boundary. This is probably why he was fine just having a couple of casual hookups last year as opposed to having a girlfriend. It’s much easier to just text someone if they’re up on the weekends, and then focus on school work during the week. With Y/N he just wanted to be in her company whenever he could, and with that came his urge to really be in her company. Maybe he did need some self-control. She had no problem telling him when she wasn’t in the mood or couldn’t come over, he needed to do the same.

Harry: hey, can I call you later?

Gemma: of course! I’m getting ready for bed soon though…

Harry: oh right, time zones, I’ll call you now

“What’s up, H?”

“How do you handle being in a relationship and getting good grades at the same time?” He asks as he heads out of the library, not wanting to disturb anyone.

“Jesus, you’ve been seeing this girl for all of two months. What happened, did you fail a test?”

“No! I got a C- on a French test.”

“You’re freaking out over a class that isn’t even one of your major courses?”

“What if it’s a slippery slope? You had a boyfriend in uni, how’d you manage your time?”

“I just told him when I was busy, and then we found other times to hang out. Usually we’d try to meet up for lunch or dinner if we could.”

“We usually sit with our other friends at lunch…and she doesn’t go to the dining hall for dinner because she cooks with her roommates after her workouts. We’re both really busy in our own rights, so it’s like the second we’re both free…”

“Do you have sleepovers?”

“Gemma.” Harry blushes as he gets into his apartment.

“Harry, I’m not asking you what you’re doing, I’m just asking if you spend the night.”

“Yeah, mostly on the weekends though…”

“And what night does the weekend start?”

“Sometimes on Thursdays…but she usually has early practice on Friday mornings, so-“

“I think you two should define which nights are for sleepovers. So, if you hang out on a Wednesday or something it’s clear no one’s staying over.”

“But I’d feel so guilty leaving after we…you know.”

“Just communicate about that too.”

“I don’t want her thinking I’m only going over there for that though.”

“Harry, I’m going to say this slowly. Communicate.”

“She’s probably so mad at me.” He groans as he gets into his room.

“Why?”

“I sort of blamed my grade on her…”

“Harry!”

“I know! I’m an idiot, okay?”

“Well, you better fix it. If you think a relationship in uni is distracting, a break up is ten times worse.”

//

Y/N was sprinting on the treadmill, she was beyond pissed. She wanted to bash Harry’s head against the table in the library. She hops off the treadmill once her run is done, and she goes into the weight room with the other girls to work with the weight trainer. She was being more quiet than usual as she lifted.

“Take a ten minute break girls, then we’ll work on the deadlifts.” The trainer says.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Ashley asks.

“No.” She looks away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Harry and I got into a fight.” She mumbles.

“Aw, about what? Want me to beat him up?”

“No.” Y/N laughs. “Thanks though. He got what he thinks is a bad grade on some test and he blamed me.”

“What the fuck?” Amanda says, overhearing the conversation. “Why would he do that?”

“Apparently he was at our place the night before his test so he didn’t study the way he should have, but that’s not my fault. He could have left or not come over at all.”

“Y/N.” Ashley sighs. “You’re both right and you’re both wrong. Try to think of it from his perspective, or, like what if the shoe was on the other foot? Like say you spent the night and overslept and missed practice. You’d probably blame him when it’s on you to make sure your alarm is set, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Cut him some slack. What was the grade?”

“Only a C-.”

“Well, if that’s a big deal to him you have to respect that.”

“Alright, ladies! Let’s get back to it.” The trainer says.

Ashley winks at Y/N, and she smiles. She was right, and talking it through calmed her down a little. She used whatever anger she still had to fuel the rest of her workout. Her, Gina, and Amanda all go home, take their turns showering and eat dinner. It was around seven when Y/N sat down to finish up some homework. Harry hadn’t texted, but she hadn’t texted him either. She wasn’t sure if she should give him some space to cool off or not. She never had to deal with something like this before.

“I’m gonna go up and try to FaceTime him, I’ll be back in a minute.” She tells the girls as she leaves the living room. The phone rings for a while, and then he finally answers. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Sorry if I’m bothering you, I just thought we should talk.”

“Please don’t break up with me.”

Harry had, like, really bad anxiety, and this entire situation flared it up. It probably didn’t help that he was always drinking coffee. He talked with Y/N briefly about it, in case he ever had an anxiety attack in front of her, he didn’t want her to be scared.

“What?! Harry, first of all, I would never do that over a fucking FaceTime, second of all, how could you think I would break up with you at all?”

“I don’t know, my sister got into my head and…sorry…I’m really sorry for snapping at you earlier, that wasn’t fair.”

“I’m sorry for not understanding how much your grade bothered you.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I should have been more sympathetic.”

“And I shouldn’t have blamed you…it was my own fault for not making more time to study. I’m trying to balance you with everything else, and it’s hard sometimes.”

“I know, but if you need to study I don’t want you to feel bad for not being able to come over or something.”

“Well, I could come over…but I can’t always spend the night.”

“Okay.”

“It’s just that…it would make me feel guilty if I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because if it’s a night we decide to hook up and I don’t stay I feel like you’d be upset. I wouldn’t want you to feel like I was only coming over for that either.”

“Harry, it’s okay. You don’t always have to spend the night afterwards. You have your own life. We can keep sleepovers for the weekends if you want.”

“Yeah, I think that would be a good idea. Things are just going to get crazier as finals creep up. I mean, it’s already almost Thanksgiving for fuck’s sake.”

“About that.” She smiles. “Before you got pissy at the library earlier, I was actually pretty excited to see you.”

“You were?” His face softens.

“Mhm, I talked with my mom, and well…I was wondering if you’d wanna come home with me for Thanksgiving…”

“Really?” He perks up.

“Yeah! I want you to meet the rest of my family, and you said how boring staying on campus was last year.”

“Y/N, I’d love to come home with you.” He beams. “Thank you.”

“Yay! I’m glad you want to.” She beams back. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, too.”

“I need to get back to my homework, and I’m sure you do too. Will you be at the game tomorrow?”

“Of course I will be.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

They both hang up and feel the same wave of relief. Harry gets back to studying, but not before texting his sister to let her know he’s been invited home with Y/N for Thanksgiving. He was too giddy to not tell someone.

//

Harry goes to Y/N’s game Wednesday, clad in the jersey she had given him. Sometimes he was given looks, he knew they weren’t the most typical couple, but he didn’t really care what other people thought. He sits with Andrew, Billy, Air, and her new boyfriend Scott. Niall and Louis also join, handing Harry his requested hotdog.

“Thanks, mate.” He says to Louis as he sits next to him.

“No problem. Think this is first women’s game I’ve ever been to, sort of feel guilty.”

“Me too.” Niall says. “Glad we didn’t have a game tonight. Bout time we came to see your girl play.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head. He bites into his hotdog just as the lights dim and both teams skate out onto the ice. The crowd cheers, and his face lights up when he sees Y/N. Number 21 in all her glory. She assists two goals in the first period, giving the girls a decent lead for the second period. During the second period she gets her shit rocked by one of the bigger girls on the other team, and the wind gets knocked out of her. Harry was frightened when she didn’t immediately get up. A trainer and the coach go out onto the ice to help her up. The other girl gets benched for the rest of the game for unnecessary roughness, and the arena claps for Y/N as she’s helped off the ice.

“Oh my god, I have to, I have to go see if she’s okay!” Harry says frantically.

“Harry!” Andrew grabs him. “They’re not going to let you into the women’s locker room.”

“I know, but maybe I can go wait for her where the trainer’s office is, that’s probably where they brought her, right?”

“He’s right, mate.” Louis says. “You’ll have to wait until they bring her back out.” He puts his hand on Harry’s shoulder to get him to sit back down. “I know it sucks right now, but she’s in good hands, she’ll be alright.”

After what felt like a lifetime, Harry squints and sees Y/N sitting on the bench. Her helmet and all of her other gear was off. All she had on were her warm ups.

“Fuck, I hope she doesn’t have a concussion.”

“They wouldn’t have let her sit out there if she did.” Niall says. “No fucking way, the ice would be blinding her.”

“Bruised rib?” Harry looks at Louis and Niall.

“Har, you’ll find out soon enough.” Louis gives him a reassuring smile. “Try to calm down. She looks fine.”

Harry sighs, his leg won’t stop bouncing as he sits in the stands. The rest of the game goes by agonizingly slow. Luckily the girls won 2-0, so at least everyone would be in decent enough mood. Harry says goodbye to everyone as he nearly sprints out of the arena to wait for Y/N where he usually did down below at the ice near the skate rentals. When he sees her come through the doors with Amanda and Gina, he races over to her, throwing his arms around her top half.

“Harry! Babe, you’re crushing me!” She laughs and pats his back. His hands move to cup her jaw and he kisses her over and over.

“I was so scared! What happened? Are you alright?” His eyes scan over her body.

“I’m fine!” She giggles and takes his hands away from her face. “I got the wind knocked out of me, and they had me sit out for the rest of the game because they put some ice on my ribs.” She unzips her sweatshirt to show him. “I’m fine though, that girl just rammed into me.”

“For no fucking reason.” Gina scoffs. “She’s lucky we didn’t all attack her.”

“Whatever, at least we won.” Y/N shrugs. “Sorry I couldn’t text you or anything, phones aren’t allowed on the bench.” She says to Harry.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“We’re all gonna go downtown for dinner to celebrate. Do you have homework or anything?”

He did have homework. He had a powerpoint he needed to work on. But he so desperately just wanted to be with her.

“Um, I have a presentation I need finish up, so…I guess I should go do that, but text me when you’re back on campus. If I’m done with everything I could come over after.”

“Okay.” She smiles and kisses him again. “Sorry you were so worried.”

“I’m just glad you don’t have a concussion or something.”

“Nope, nothing that serious.”

“Come on, we better get down there before they eat all the food.” Amanda says.

Y/N waves off to Harry and leaves with the girls. It was too bad because he liked getting dinner with the hockey girls, but he needed to stick to what he and Y/N spoke about last night. It’ll be a reward or a treat for him to see her once he’s done with his work. That was all the motivation he needed to finish up his presentation, and get some other homework done.

Harry: hey baby, I just finished everything up…do you still wanna get together? Are you doing hw?

Y/N: maybe tomorrow night, I’m really tired and we have practice in the morning. But I’ll see you at 2, right?

Harry: yeah of course. Love you, goodnight!

Y/N: love you too, night!

Harry sort of felt sad that he wasn’t seeing Y/N tonight, but he couldn’t blame her for being tired. He just wanted to hold her and make her feel better, but he thought of how small her bed was and realized how she’d probably be more comfortable sleeping in it alone. He couldn’t blame her for that either. Just as he’s settling into bed, his phone goes off and he smiles.

“Y/N?”

“Hi.”

“What’s up, babe?”

“Nothing…kinda just wanted to hear your voice…”

“God, you’re gonna make me melt into a puddle over here.” He chuckles. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little yeah. They want me to sleep sort of propped up so I can breathe easier, it’s not very comfy.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Wish I could make you feel better.”

“You are.” She smiles, not that he could see. “So you were working on a presentation? For what class?”

“My anthropology class.”

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s kind of boring…”

“I don’t care, it’ll be like you’re telling me a bed time story. Please?”

“Alright.” His heart was fluttering.

Y/N fell asleep with her headphones in listening to Harry discuss his presentation. Believe it or not, talking through it helped Harry give an even better presentation than he could have hoped for. Maybe this new system will work for them.

//

Harry was dressed up from his presentation when Y/N met him in the library for their tutoring session. He looked incredibly handsome in his green dress pants, white button up, and floral patterned tie to match.

“Hey.” He smiles and kisses her cheek. “Let’s finish up that outline.”

“Hey, yeah.” She sits down and takes her materials out to show him. She looks him up and down. “How’d your presentation go?”

“Oh, really well actually. Talking it over with you last night actually made me feel more prepared.”

“That’s great! Sorry I fell asleep on you.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe next time I could come over and you could really practice it for me.”

“You did ask for a bedtime story.” He smirks. “It’s fine. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I took it easy during practice this morning just in case, and the trainers are going to work with me during lifting this afternoon, but I should be fine to play Saturday.”

“That’s good, and that game’s away right?”

“Yeah and we have to leave Friday night because it’s, like, hours away or something.”

Harry nods and looks over Y/N’s outline. He marks up a few spots and lets her get to work on her paper while he works on a paper of his own. He listens as she grumbles to himself and he can’t help but laugh.

“Stop, it’s not funny. I’m not a very good writer.”

“What are you struggling with?”

“I just don’t how to articulate myself professionally sometimes.”

“So write it as if you didn’t need to be professional, and then go back and edit it. Get all of your ideas out, you know?”

“Oh, good idea! Thanks, Har.” She smiles.

“It’s what I’m here for.”

She gives him a quick peck on the cheek and he sighs happily.

“Do you want to…um, come over after your workout. We could have dinner…”

“Yeah, I’d like that. Can I bring all my shit over so I can just spend the night and get up to go to practice? You live closer to the ice arena, it would be perfect.”

“Sure! That sounds great.”

While Y/N is at her workout, Harry whips up some pasta and meat sauce that he knows she’ll like. He makes enough for Louis and Niall as well. They were usually ravenous after practice just the same. Niall and Louis come bursting through the door around when Harry is pulling some garlic bread out of the oven.

“Alright! Mum cooked!” Louis teases him.

“Oi! Go fucking wash up before you start grabbing at the food, fucking animals.” Harry scolds them. “And we’re waiting to eat until Y/N gets here, you’re lucky I even made extra for the two of you.”

“Ugh, fine.” Niall says and the two go down the hall to wash up.

There’s a knock on the door and Harry practically races over to open it. He smiles at Y/N with all her bags, and he lets her in.

“I can bring those up if you want. Go ahead into the kitchen, dinner’s all set.”

“Thanks, babe.” She pecks his lips and hands her things over to him. “Hi guys.” She says to the boys as she sits down.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Niall asks.

“Oh, I’m fine. Took it easy today, but I’m alright.”

“I couldn’t believe how hard that girl hit you, it was wild.” Louis says.

“Okay! Everyone can make up their own plates, have at it. Made your favorite, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” She blushes and makes up a plate.

It was like they were having a family dinner, it was sort of fun. Y/N had gotten to know Niall and Louis alright over the last couple of weeks. The boys help clean up with Y/N while Harry puts the leftovers away. The two go up to his room, and she flops onto his bed. Harry gets on and crawls up her body to straddle her. She starts giggling and shakes her head.

“What?”

“I just ate so much food, I need a minute.”

“Can you even do anything? How are your ribs?”

“They’re fine, but we probably shouldn’t be too aggressive.”

“You don’t have to do a thing if you don’t want to.”

“Harry.” She scoffs.

“We haven’t really been able to makeup since our little argument the other day, I wanna make you feel good.”

“What exactly are you proposing?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, you know me, I have a bit of sweet tooth.” He grins at her and she bites her bottom lip.

He situates himself between her legs and pulls her sweatpants down. She raises her hips up to help him, and he looks up at her just to make sure what they’re doing is okay. She nods yes, and he hooks his fingers into her underwear as well. He places soft kisses on her inner thigh, working his way to her center.

“H,Harry?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Would you do that thing where you, um, stick your tongue inside?” She was embarrassed and blushing, but she really liked it when he would do that.

“Want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

“Yeah.”

“Can do.” He smiles and dips his head back down.

He licks the flat of his tongue up her center and nibbles on her clit for a moment before licking into her. She bucks her hips up from the sensation, and he uses an arm to hold her down. He uses his other hand to rub her clit while he fucks her with his tongue.

“Fuck, oh my god.” She breathes and tangles his hair between her fingers.

He moves his face from side to side so she could catch some of the scruff on his chin, although, he only just started to grow some of his facial hair out. Harry shaved just about every day until Y/N told him once that she sort of liked the way it felt on her. Harry’s facial hair came in sort of patchy, so that’s why he would normally just shave it, but he was willing to grow it out a bit for her.

He rubs on her clit a little faster, and it has her panting and breathing rapidly. Her chest was heaving, and he could tell she was getting closer. She’s a whimpering mess when she comes to her release, and he continues to lap away at her.

“Holy shit.” She breathes as he sits up.

“Good?”

“So good, come here.”

He smiles and hovers over to kiss her. She was so fucked out she didn’t even care that she could taste herself on his tongue. He grinds himself against her and she winces.

“Too many clothes, get naked.” She whines.

Harry chuckles but does as she says. She takes her t-shirt off and sits up. She has him sit up against the wall so she can crawl into his lap.

“I think this’ll hurt less if I’m on top.”

“Whatever makes you more comfortable, baby.” He reaches over to his desk to grab a condom, but she swats it away.

“We’re only sleeping with each other, do we really need one?”

“I just like having it as a backup, as much as I love feeling you. Is that alright?”

“Yeah…”

She waits for him to roll it on and she slowly sinks down on top of him. He grips her hips and helps her move up and down on his dick. He bites down on her shoulder to muffle his moan when he feels how deep inside her he is. Her hands are tangled up in his hair again as she rocks back and forth on him. He licks a stripe up her neck and just under her earlobe to suck a mark on her. He snakes a hand between them to rub circles on her clit and she gasps.

“Fuck, how do you always know how to do that?” She groans. “Feels so fucking good.”

“I just know what you need, baby girl.” He nips at her bottom lip as he continues to rub her right where she needs it as she bounces up and down on his dick.

Her tongue glides against his, and she can feel sweat starting to pool between their bellies by how close they are. She feels the knot in her stomach starting to form again, and she hides her face in his neck. He keeps his other arm around her, hand gripping her ass.

“Y/N.” He groans, not being able to hold on much longer.

She cries out into his neck, and when her body starts to calm down a bit he comes. She clings to him for a moment before he lifts her off of him. She throws a t-shirt on and goes to the bathroom quickly while he slips into a pair of boxers. She double checks her two alarms, and he sets one on his clock-radio for her as well. He crawls into bed with her and spoons her. He kisses the back of her neck and sticks a leg between hers.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” He says.

“Um, sure?” She chuckles.

“When do you typically get your period?”

“What?!” She turns over and sits up. “Why, why would you ask me that?”

“Well, we’ve been together a couple of months now and you haven’t even mentioned it.”

“I…it’s not something I really wanna share with you, Harry. I don’t know, I probably got it before we started dating, and then I probably got it again before we started having sex, I…I’d have to check my pills to see when I get it next…couple of weeks, maybe?”

“I just don’t want you to think it’s something you need to keep a secret from me, like, if you wanna leave a box of tampons or whatever in the bathroom you can.”

“Harry.” She hides her face in her hands. “Please, this is too embarrassing.”

“Why?” He peels her hands away so she’ll look at him. “I just want you to feel comfortable…”

“It’s gross, that’s why. I wish I didn’t get it all, it’s a nuisance.” She sighs. “But thank you, I may bring some supplies here since you’re saying it’s alright.”

He kisses her cheek and brings her back down to him so they can spoon again. He snuggles her close and nestles into her hair. Y/N was frazzled. She had never met a guy like Harry, and she was honestly surprised he didn’t already have a girlfriend. She didn’t know a college guy could be so cool and chill about those types of things. She grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers, resting it against her lower stomach. He lets out a small sigh before falling asleep.

//

Y/N jumps out of Harry’s bed when she hears his clock-radio go off. He knuckles at his eyes and sits up as she shuffles around to grab her things. She goes down the hall to do her thing, and sees the bathroom door his closed. One of the boys must be in there. Louis opens the door, shirtless and only in his boxers.

“Morning.” He yawns and gestures for her to use the bathroom.

“Morning.” She blushes and goes in, and locks the door. She washes her face and brushes her teeth and quickly goes back into Harry’s room. She smiles when she sees him typing away at his laptop. “What are you doing?”

“Just answering some emails. I’m getting more tutoring requests with finals approaching.”

“I didn’t think you took a lot of classes that people would need help in.” She says as she braids her hair back.

“Well, I’m a study skills tutor too, so sometimes I meet with other students who just need tips on how to properly study.”

“Like flashcards and stuff like that?”

“There’s some of that, yeah. I explain how to code while reading, how to look at previous quizzes, sometimes they need help just emailing a professor too. I had to go through a training for it last year with the tutoring office. It’s good money so I don’t mind.”

She gets her jacket on and looks at him. She goes over and cups his jaw, giving him some kisses to his lips that were still slightly swollen from the night before.

“When do you leave tonight?”

“Around five, I think. Wanna meet up for lunch at the dining hall?”

“I’d love to.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Alright, have a good practice.”

She grabs her things and heads out. She sees Niall and Louis getting their sneakers on.

“Do you guys have early lifts in the mornings?”

“Yeah, and then we have field times in the afternoons. So opposite of you.” Niall says. “Do you want a ride to the ice arena since we’re headed that way?”

“Do you mind? That would be great.”

“Don’t mind at all, pet.” Louis smiles and grabs one of her bags for her. “Your Harry’s girl now, so you’re our girl too.”

She giggles and follows them out to their car. She thanks them for dropping her off and she heads inside. It was a good practice, she was feeling much better. As she was changing after practice she could hear a few people snickering.

“What?” She looks at her friends.

“You and Harry really had some fun last night, huh?” Amanda says.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your neck and shoulder.” Amanda takes her mirror out of her gym locker to show her. Y/N gasps.

“Oh my god…”

“I mean, I like a hickey just as much as the next person, but shit.” Gina says.

“He…does it when he’s trying to be quiet. His roommates were home and sometimes he moans, like, really loud.” She smirks. “It’s cute.”

“Ooo, Y/N’s giving Harry that good good.” Amanda teases with a squeal.

“Shut up.” She nudges her. “I like that he moans, you always hear of guys never making any noise, what’s the fun in that?”

“The complexities of liking dick.” Gina laughs.

“You know what makes you guys lucky?” Y/N says as she pulls her sweatshirt on. “You don’t have to worry about condoms.”

“Aren’t you on the pill?” Amanda asks as they all leave the building to walk up to campus.

“Yeah, but Harry likes using condoms as a backup, which makes sense. Sometimes I just wish he wasn’t so responsible. It hurts a little whenever he pulls out when he wears one, and it kind of hurts for a couple of days after.” Both Amanda and Gina stop short. “What?”

“Do you think you’re allergic to latex?” Gina asks. “Or the spermicide?”

“Oh shit, I didn’t even think of that.” Y/N groans. “What am I supposed to use, sheepskin?” She makes a gagging noise.

“No, I’m pretty sure there are latex free condoms that aren’t sheepskin. We’re going to WalMart after lunch to get snacks for the bus, we can look while we’re there.” Amanda says.

“Good idea, thanks. Harry’s gonna join at lunch, so don’t mention any of this, okay? He worries about every little thing, and I don’t want him to get anxious.”

The girls agree, and they head to their apartment to drop their things off before class. Friday classes should be illegal, but Y/N only had Mind, Brain, and Evolution on Fridays, so it wasn’t terrible. When she finally gets to the dining hall she sees Harry waiting outside for her. God, he looked so fucking good. He had a light blue sweater on with some khakis, and his beanie. She loves the way the ends of curls would peak out of the hat. She throws her arms around him and kisses his cheek.

“You didn’t have to wait out here.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” He smiles and kisses her lips before going inside.

They both grab their food and sit down together at the girl’s hockey table. Everyone greets Harry, and he joins in on the conversations circling around him.

“Do you have anywhere to be after this?” He says to her.

“We’re going to WalMart to get snacks, and then I need to get my overnight bag together. You can come over to help me pack if you want.”

“Sounds good.”

“Are you gonna go out tonight, or anything?”

“Yeah, Louis and Niall have a home game tonight, so I’m gonna go to support them, and then there’s most likely going to be a party at the soccer house, so I’ll probably go to that for a bit.”

“Okay.”

“Is that alright?”

“Yeah, I don’t care.” She shrugs.

They kiss goodbye before she hops in Ashley’s car to go to WalMart. She grabs the snacks she wants, and then Amanda and Gina yank her down to the aisle with the condoms. They read the boxes and find a brand that still prevents against STDs, but didn’t have latex.

“Try these and then see how you feel.” Gina says. “I wish we could be more help…” She laughs.

“This is help enough, thanks. I should probably go to my doctor and just have an allergy test done.”

“You two had sex last night, right? How does your vagine feel?” Amanda asks.

“Sore, honestly.” She sighs. “I thought it was just like this because we do it a lot and it’s still so new for my body, but he’s mostly gentle when we’re doing it, I suppose being allergic to latex would make the most sense.” She throws the box in the cart with everything else. “Hey, can I ask you guys something?”

“Of course!” Amanda says.

“Anything!” Gina says.

“When you’re hooking up consistently with a girl, do you ever ask her when her period is?”

“I synced up with a girl once.” Gina says.

“Sometimes it gets brought up, like, a girl has told me when she’s on hers so we don’t venture down south, why?” Amanda asks.

“Harry asked me last night when my next one would be. I just found it to be peculiar that the topic didn’t gross him out.”

“God, every time you tell us something about him, it astounds me how much of a man he really is. I would very much like to shake his mother’s hand.” Gina says. “He’s met Ang, have you met his mom yet?”

“Well, considering that she lives in fucking London, no, I haven’t.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“You could FaceTime.” Amanda suggests.

“We could, but I’m way too nervous. Meeting a guy’s mom is so much different that meeting the girl’s mom. I mean, it’s just her and his sister, that’s her baby boy, I wanna make sure I make a good impression.”

“He’s also your baby boy, and that’s all I’m saying on that.” Amanda says.

“Yeah, baby girl.” Gina teases.

“I’m not going to tell you guys anything he says to me anymore if you’re going to make fun of us.” Y/N pouts.

“Please! No, don’t take the stories away, they’re too good.” Gina says.

The girls pay for their things and meet up with the people they drove with, and head inside their apartment. Harry comes over to watch Y/N pack her things.

“I don’t think you got enough snacks, think you could use some more.” He says sarcastically.

“We get hungry on these longer rides.”

“You’re only going for one night.” He rummages through her WalMart bags to see what she got.

“Harry, wait-“

His eyes grow wide when he sees the box of condoms. He takes them out and holds them up.

“Why do you need these if you’re going away?”

“I hadn’t put all of my shit away yet.” She snatches the box from him and tosses it in her closet.

“You didn’t need to buy those, babe, I can take care of that.”

“Well, it’s just…you know, it should be both of our responsibility.”

“But,” He grabs the box from her closet, “this isn’t the brand I usually buy. These aren’t even ribbed.” He says as he reads the box.

“No, but…they don’t have latex in them…” She blushes and takes the box back from him. “I think I may be allergic or something.”

“How’d you come to that conclusion?”

“Because I noticed that afterwards…I’m sore for a couple of days, and-“

“Y/N.” He sighs and sits on the edge of her bed, pulling her onto his lap. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I don’t know.” She looks down as she wraps her arms around his neck. “I thought I was just getting used to you still.”

“But if you were in pain afterwards I’d want you to tell me. Am I too rough?”

“No! That’s just it, you’re not. So…I mean, I was talking to the girls about it and they asked me if I was allergic to latex, so we got those while we were out and I figured we could give them a try when I get back. It’ll be like an experiment.”

“Is that why you don’t always want to use one?”

“Yeah, I’m never sore after we don’t use one.”

“Alright, then we’ll try those. I’m sorry, baby. If I had known we could have bought those sooner.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s on me.”

“I just want you to talk to me about these things, that’s all.”

“It’s embarrassing, Harry.” She groans. “I don’t wanna talk about my vagina with you.” She pouts.

“God, you’re cute.” He pecks her lips. “No, you just like when I lick on you, is that it?”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t have to be at your bus until five, it’s 3:45, think you have plenty of time…if you want, that is.”

“M’sore.” She says shyly. “But…if you did wanna lick on me…I would do the same to you.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” He grins.

She stands up and makes sure her door is locked before getting her pants off. He takes care of her first, getting her back to arch off the bed from the sheer force of her orgasm. She practically growls at him when she undoes his pants. She gets between his legs and gets her lips wrapped around his tip in seconds. Her ass was in the air, and he couldn’t help but reach forward and finger her from behind.

“Oh!” She gasps and looks at him. “That’s different.”

“Does it feel okay?”

“Yeah…I just…it’s your turn is all.”

“Babe, we’re just having some fun, it doesn’t matter. I’ll make you come as many times as I can, I don’t give a fuck if I only get one.”

“Oh my god.” She breathes and puts her mouth back on him.

She moans around him as his fingers pump in and out of her, and it makes him buck up into her. She gags for a second but keeps going.

“Y/N.” He grunts. “This would be a little easier if we just-“

“No.” She mumbles with him still in her mouth.

“But if we just-“

“I don’t want my entire ass in your face!” She uses her hand to pump him quickly, and he removes his fingers from her to grip at her sheets. She rubs her thumb over his tip how he likes, and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.” He groans, and she puts her mouth back on his tip to gets everything in her mouth.

She pops off of him and swallows. She was getting more used to that, and the taste didn’t bother her as much. Once his breathing goes back to normal he tackles her down where he was laying and she giggles.

“What are you doing?”

“Gonna finish what I started, love, otherwise you’ll be restless on that bus.” He slips his fingers back inside her and she moans out. “Course, I could be mean and just get you really worked up so you’d have to think of me while you’re in that hotel room of yours.”

“Mm, yeah, you know they make us share beds, four to a room, so that wouldn’t really, fuck, work for me.”

“Really? They don’t make the boys share beds.”

“God forbid.” She grunts as he goes in knuckle deep and curls his fingers up.

“Feel alright? I know you said you were sore earlier.”

“No, it feels fine, really good, actually.” She pants. “Fuck, Harry, oh my god!”

He loved watching her face when she’d come to her release. She always bit her bottom lip really hard and squeezed her eyes shut, and then her mouth would fall open as she’d come down. He retracts his fingers and wipes them off on his thigh before grabbing his boxers and pants to put back on.

“I just need to, um, pee. I’ll be right back.” She almost felt lightheaded as she stood up. She puts her sweatpants back on and goes down the hall to clean herself up. Amanda peeps her head out of her room, as does Gina.

“What the fuck were you two doing in there?” Gina chuckles.

“Um, he just made me come so hard that everything went white, so…”

“Damn, boy’s got a good dick.” Amanda says.

“He does, but he didn’t use it. Just his fingers.”

“Oh shit.” Gina says, impressed. “Maybe he was a lesbian in another life.”

They all burst out laughing, and Y/N goes back to her room. She kisses Harry a few times and then finishes getting her bags together.

“I’ll text you later when we’re at the hotel. Have fun at the soccer game.”

“I will, safe travels. When do you think you’ll be back tomorrow?”

“No idea, but I’ll let you know once we hit the road.”

“Sounds good, love you.” He pecks her lips.

“Love you too.” She smiles and waves him off as he leaves.

//

The boys and girls soccer teams won, so there was a rager at the boy’s soccer house. Harry pregames with Niall and Louis before going over. He had a long-sleeve black button up on with the first few buttons undone, and a ripped pair of black jeans. He cracks open a beer and sips on it as he talks to some of the guys at the house.

Harry gets a good buzz going, opting to play a few rounds of beer pong, and flip cup with some people he knew in the kitchen.

Y/N: just got to the hotel, hope you’re having a good night!

Harry: wish you were here, missing my dance partner ;p sweet dreams baby

“Harry, you’re turn!” Niall shouts and Harry flips his cup effortlessly. He finishes off his drink and grabs another one.

“Well, look who it is.” A girl named Maggie comes up to Harry to make a drink of her own. Harry hooked up with Maggie last semester.

“Maggie, um, hi.” He blushes. “How are you.”

“Good! Haven’t seen you since school started.”

“Yeah, I got busy…with the, uh, tutoring.”

“Right.” She nods and takes a sip of her drink. “You look good, Har.”

“Thanks.” He takes a sip of his own drink.

“So, are you here alone?”

“I came with Niall and Louis.” He points over to the guys as they’re still playing flip cup.

“No, I mean…” She puts her hand on his shoulder and steps closer to him. “Like, you’re not here with anyone?”

“Well…my girlfriend is away tonight, she’s on the hockey team.” He swallows, unsure of what in the fuck was happening. “They have an away game tomorrow, so they had to leave tonight to get there on time.”

“Poor thing.” She pouts at him. “Are you feeling a little lonely? I know how you can be.” She had backed him into a corner and pressed herself up against him. His hands were not on her at all and he just didn’t know what to do.

“Maggie, could you, uh, you’re a little too close.”

“Am I?” She bats her eyelashes up at him. “I don’t think we’re close enough, if you ask me.”

Harry looks over at Niall and Louis, hoping to catch their attention. He didn’t want to be rude, but he needed this girl to step off. He looks down at her and frowns.

“Did you not hear me? I said I have a girlfriend.”

“I heard you say she was gone for the night. Come on, Harry, have a little fun. You’re not married.”

“This isn’t fun for me.” He pushes her away and goes over to Niall and Louis. He tells them what happened and that he’s going to leave.

“Mate, don’t go.” Louis frowns. “Night’s just getting started.”

“I’m not having fun anymore. I used to hook up with Maggie, and we hooked up right when school started. Y/N’s not here, and I don’t feel right.”

“So…what, you’re not gonna come out unless she’s with you?” Niall asks.

“What’s the main goal of coming to a party? Finding someone to hook up with. I don’t need to be here if she’s not here. It’s too dangerous. I’m gonna go home, I’ll see you guys later.”

“Wait.” Louis sighs. “We’ll come with you.”

“No, you guys had a major win tonight, you should stay and celebrate. I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“You’re drunk, H, we should go with you.” Niall says.

“M’not drunk. I can make it back. Please stay, it’s fine.”

Harry makes his way out of the house and bumps into Maggie again.

“For fuck’s sake.” He says to himself as she looks at him with a devious smile.

“Where you going, Harry?”

“Home.”

“Need some company?”

“Not from you.” He shakes his head and she pouts at him.

“Damn, who knew some hockey bitch could have you so whipped.”

He wanted to strangle her, and Harry was not a violent person in the slightest. He just couldn’t believe one female athlete would say that about another.

“You may be alright with trying to fuck up someone’s relationship, but I’m not. Get some fucking help.” He brushes by her and gets out of the house quickly. The cold air hits him a little too hard, and his stomach turns. He shakes it off and makes his way home. He couldn’t believe that even after he said he had a girlfriend that Maggie would still try to pull a move on him.

Harry gets inside and feels so disgusted that he decides to take a shower. Maybe taking a shower while buzzed wasn’t a great idea, but it certainly calmed him down. He was never going to a party without Y/N again. The thing he wasn’t sure about was if he should tell her about the altercation. Maybe if he had been sober he would have waited until the morning to text her, but there he was, towel hanging low on his hips, water dripping from his hair, as he typed out his message.

Harry: baby, I’m home now, I had to leave that party. I know you’re sleeping, but this girl tried to hook up with me, even after I told her I had a girlfriend! Can you believe that?! I got away from her, but she got really close to me. Nothing happened, but I just wanted you to know…for whatever reason. I love you so much, I hope you know I would never do anything to put our relationship at risk. I’m sorry for texting you like this while you’re sleeping, I just needed you to know.

His anxiety had fully taken over at this point. After he hit send he immediately regretted it. He knew he should have waited.

“Fucking moron.” He chews on his nails. Now he had to wait until morning for her to answer. He flops onto his bed and puts his headphones in so he could fall asleep to a podcast.

//

Y/N rubs her eyes as she wakes up the next morning, and they widen when she sees the massive text from Harry.

“What the fuck?” She says, sitting up.

“What is it?” Amanda groans next to her, sitting up as well.

“Some girl tried to fuck Harry last night!”

“What?!” This wakes Gina up in the other bed. They were also rooming with this other girl Becca who they were pretty good friends with.

“He said nothing happened, and he left right away, but she got really close to him even after he said he had a girlfriend.” She sighs. “Fuck, do you guys mind if I call him quick? His anxiety must be through the roof. He sent this at like one in the morning.”

“Go ahead, Y/N.” Amanda rubs her back as she dials his number.

“Y/N?” Harry says groggily through the phone.

“Hey, I just saw your text, are you alright?”

“M’fine.” He mumbles.

“Did you know this girl prior?”

“Yeah…”

“How?”

“She…well…ugh, don’t be made, but I used to hook up with her. Mostly last semester, and then a couple times when school started. It was before we met, Y/N.”

“So…she came up to you thinking you were single, you told her you weren’t, and she still tried to take you home?”

“Yeah, but I got away from her.”

“Where were Niall and Louis?”

“Playing flip cup, they offered to leave with me, but I told them they didn’t need to.”

“What’s this girl’s name?”

“What does it matter?”

“I just wanna know.”

“Maggie…she’s a junior.”

“Wonderful.”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not…and nothing happened?”

“No! I got outta there and went right home. I’m so sorry, I’m never going out without you again.”

“Don’t say that, you can go out. I want you to have fun, Harry.”

“I didn’t have much fun last night.” He mumbles.

“I’m sorry, Harry. Hopefully that girl has learned her lesson.”

“I know you’re probably gonna be tired when you get back to campus later, but…would you come over?”

“Of course! The second I get to campus I’ll be at your place, alright?”

“Okay…thanks babe.”

“Yeah.” She looks at the girls and she feels terrible. “Did you sleep last night?”

“I listened to a podcast and it helped me drift off, yeah.”

“Okay.” She sighs. “We have to get ready and eat breakfast and stuff…”

“Alright, I’ll be watching the live stream later, so know I’ll be rooting for you.”

“Thanks.” She smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Y/N goes onto Harry’s Instagram to see who follows him, looking for anyone named Maggie. She finds one, and her page wasn’t private, so she was able to look at her photos.

“This girl used to hook up with Harry, and she tried to last night. She��s…like…really pretty.” Y/N frowns, and show’s Amanda. “He said he left right away, but…how could he go from her to me.”

“Y/N!” Gina says. “You’re one of the fucking hottest girls on campus, don’t talk about yourself like that. Besides, he got out of there because he wants you, not her, and because he’s not a fucking dick. Don’t let this bother you.”

//

The game went really well. The girls won 4-2, and had a nice big dinner to celebrate. Y/N texts Harry the second they’re on the road. He tells her to let her know when the buses are close so he can meet her down at the ice arena to walk her back to his place.

He got some homework done, and spoke to Niall and Louis about how uncomfortable Maggie had made him. They apologized for not immediately going home with him to make sure he was alright. Harry smirks when he sees some of the other significant others waiting down at the ice arena for the girls. It was only around 9:30 when the bus pull in.

“My house, one hour, ladies!” Ashley yells as everyone gets off the bus.

Y/N runs right over to Harry, and throws her arms around him. He lifts her up so her legs can wrap around his waist. She kisses all over his face, and he smiles.

“Hey, beautiful. That was a great game.”

“You watched the whole thing?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re the best.” He sets her down and grabs her bags for her. “We don’t have to go to Ashley’s tonight if you don’t want to.”

“Do you want to?”

“Well…yeah, but-“

“I’ll go.” He shrugs. “Could use some actual fun after last night.”

“We don’t have to stay long, I just wanna make an appearance.”

“S’fine with me, love.”

They both get ready, and before they leave, Y/N goes into the living room to see Louis and Niall playing video games. She clears her throat so they’ll look at her. They pause the game.

“Do you guys wanna come to the hockey house with us?”

“Sure!” Louis says. “Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah, I’m in.” Niall says.

Harry puts his arm around Y/N’s shoulders as they walk to Ashley’s place. They all get to drinking once they’re there, and it’s a great time as always. Y/N and Harry get into a game of up and down the river with some of the other girls. That game was extremely dangerous, but super fun. Once they’re done, they find themselves in the basement, dancing the night away.

“Missed you so much last night.” Harry says into her ear as she grinds back against him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” His hands grips her hips harder to pulls her even closer. He starts kissing on her neck and her head rolls back to his shoulder.

“Missed you too.” She turns around to press her front to his and his hands slide down to her ass. “I have some of those new condoms in my bag…” She kisses on his neck. “Wanna go try them?”

“Yup!” He yanks her up the stairs from the basement, through the house and outside. He gives her a piggyback ride back to his place, and she continues to kiss on his neck.

He gets them inside and up the stairs to his room. She rifles through her bag for the condoms and takes them out. He cups her jaw and sticks his tongue in her mouth, and she immediately sucks on it. She tugs at the collar of his shirt, and starts to unbutton it the rest of the way. She pushes his shirt off his shoulders and kisses down his stomach as she gets on her knees to undo his pants. She yanks his jeans and boxers down and gives his hard cock a few licks and kisses before standing up. He pulls her top off and gets her out of the rest of her clothes. He snatches a condom and rolls it on. He gets her on the bed and opens her legs up. He rubs his fingers up and down her slit to make sure she’s wet before pushing in.

“Oh fuck!” She cries. “Harry.” She moans as he rocks in and out of her.

He looks down between the two of them to watch himself go in and out. She grabs one of his hands to put on her breast. He gets the idea and leans down to suck on one of her nipples while he kneads the other one.

“Harder, Harry, please.” She whines.

He sits up a little and puts her legs over his shoulders. He gives it to her hard and fast, and it fucking sends her. Her head rolls back into his pillows and she grips at the sheets. His tip rubs up against her g-spot over and over, and she can feel herself almost ready to lose it. He feels her squeezing around him, and he loves it. He loves being the only one to do this to her.

“Okay?” He grunts.

“Amazing! Don’t stop!” She doesn’t give a fuck how loud she’s being, she feels way too good to care.

He drops one of her legs to rub at her clit, he barely even needs to touch her and she loses it. She cries out, but he doesn’t let up. He continues to thrust in and out of her.

“Come here.” She whimpers.

They’re chest to chest, kissing sloppily, as his thrusts get less rhythmic. She knew he had to be close now.

“Wanna come, Harry?” She coos.

“Want me to?”

“Don’t you want to?” She laughs.

“I could actually keep going.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” She laughs again and so does he.

“Think I’ve got the opposite of whiskey dick.”

“I’m good to keep going.” She bites her bottom lip. “Wanna try something fun?” He nods yes and kisses on her neck. “What if I ride you, but reverse?”

He pulls out of her immediately, and gets them both in position, making her giggle. He lays flat on his back while she raises and lowers on him. She looks over her shoulder at him. His head was thrown back and he was squeezing at her hips. He sits up and she squeals when he starts thrusting up into her. He gets an arm hooked around her, squeezing one of her breasts, and his other hand rubs at her clit.

“Oh fuck.” He groans. “I’m gonna come, oh my fucking god.” He bites down on her shoulder, and this pushes her over the edge, and feeling her release pushes him over the edge. He spills into the condom and cries out into her neck. “Jesus Christ.” He breathes. He kisses on her shoulder as he catches his breath. “Alright, up you go, babe.” He lifts her off and she whimpers at the loss of him.

He gets up to throw the condom away, and she puts on his black button up to go use the bathroom. He uses it after her and comes back to her nearly passed out in the bed.

“M’so tired, Harry.” She whines.

“I know, you’ve had a long day, huh?” He climbs into bed with her.

“Yeah.” She snuggles up to him and he throws his arm around her. “But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” She kisses on his chest and it makes him smile ear to ear.

//

Even though a few days had passed from the soccer house incident, Y/N grimaced every time she saw Maggie around. Harry assured Y/N that it really wasn’t that big of a deal, and that they should both let it go. He didn’t even know she would know who Maggie was. Harry said he liked sportier girls, but Maggie wasn’t sporty in the slightest. She was tall and skinny, she could be a model for Christ’s sake. Y/N spots Ari in the dining hall during breakfast one morning, and goes over to her while she’s making a coffee.

“Hey, Ari.” Y/N says shyly.

“Oh, um, hi, Y/N.”

The girls weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t exactly enemies either. Ari was dating Scott, but Y/N was still the girl that crushed all chances of her getting with Harry.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You’ve been close with Harry for a while…do you remember when he was hooking up with some girl named Maggie?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” She sighs as she adds some cream to her coffee. “They had public speaking together last semester, and I guess it was a debate day and they were on opposing sides, and the next thing he knew he was getting his dick sucked in the custodial closet in Smith Hall.” She rolls her eyes. “They hooked up pretty consistently, mostly on the weekends after a party. I thought he was done with her after this summer, but I guess the hooked up a couple of times at the beginning of the school year. Then you sort of started to take over.” She sips her coffee. “He was very concerned about tutoring you, or whatever. The boys mostly talked with him about Maggie, I didn’t really care to listen. She had texted him one night and he didn’t answer…he said he had a thing for someone else and didn’t want to fuck her anymore.”

“Wow.” Y/N was trying to take everything in. “He really said that?”

“I didn’t take you for the insecure type, Y/N.”

“It’s hard not to be…she’s, like, perfect.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.”

“I honestly only think he was hooking up with her because she had more experience than he did. And I think he only hooked up with her at the beginning of the school year because he wanted to show her how much better he had gotten over the summer or something.”

“Seriously?” She makes a disgusted face.

“Harry’s a great guy, but he’s still a guy.” She chuckles. “Anyways, he’s really into you, you have to know that.”

“I do…I guess I just freaked out for a second. She saw him at a party Friday and tried to make a move.”

“I heard about that. You shouldn’t worry, he got right out of there.”

“That’s what he said.” She smiles at the girl. “Thanks, Ari.”

“No problem.” She shrugs and walks away.

//

Harry and Y/N were doing homework together in his room one evening. He lifts his glasses and knuckles at his eyes.

“Alright, I think I need a break before my eyes pop out of me head.” He closes his laptop and gets up. “Need a snack? I’m gonna grab some chips.”

“Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”

He nods and leaves to go retrieve some food. He comes back with a couple of sodas and chips, and tosses her a can.

“I’ve been needing to ask, how have you been feeling with those condoms?”

“Oh!” She nearly chokes on her soda. “Um, good. I’m not sore anymore. When I go home go home for winter break I’m gonna see my doctor so she can check me out and test me for the allergy.”

“Good idea. I’m glad you’re not in any pain, I felt really bad.” He sips on his soda and pops a few chips into his mouth. “I’m really excited to go home with you in a few days.”

“Me too!”

“What will the, uh, sleeping arrangements be like?”

“As chill as my mom is, we can’t stay in the same room.” She rolls her eyes. “So you’ll be in my room, and I’m going to bunk with my sisters.”

“And you have a younger sister and brother, right?”

“Mhm, my sister is a senior, and my brother is a freshman.”

“Little guy.”

“Mhm, he was quite the surprise, but he’s super cute.”

“Do they play sports too?”

“My brother plays hockey, but my sister is into theater. She’s applied to every school in New York she could, but also applied here as a backup.”

“Do you two get along or not so much?”

“When we were in high school not at all, but we do now. I think the distance made her miss me. We shared a room when we were younger so we were just always on top of each other. My mom was able to buy a bigger house when the bar really took off.”

“And…your dad?”

“Not in the picture.” Y/N chomps down on a chip. “He sends us birthday cards and shit like that, but that’s all the contact I need from him. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She shrugs. “We shut down the bar on Thanksgiving and have a big dinner in there with our family, I think you’ll really like it.”

“I’m looking forward to it, babe. What time is she coming to get us Wednesday?”

“She said around nine. You should probably let us pick you up here. I’m sure she knows what we’re doing, but she doesn’t need to see it first-hand.”

“Good idea.”

“Also, since you to know these things…I do have my period, so there won’t be much funny business.”

“Can’t really fool around when we’re staying in separate rooms, can we?” He smirks.

“Please, she’ll be running around the bar at night, I’m sure I could sneak in a blow job.”

“Wouldn’t feel like doing that now would you?”

“Not particularly.” She chuckles and then pouts at him when he makes an offended face. “Just not in a very sexy mood right now. My cramps are killing me.”

“Do you need any ibuprofen?”

“No, I took some earlier, thanks. I think just some cuddles tonight will do the trick.”

“That can definitely be arranged.” He kisses her cheek. “After we finish up the rest of this homework.”

“What are your finals looking like? I have one paper, and four presentations. Four! I mean, I’m glad I don’t have an actual test, but still. It’s a lot to remember.”

“Is the paper for Mind, Brain, and Evolution?”

“Yeah, I’ve already started it. Do you think when I finish it you could give it a once over?”

“I’d be happy to, babe. I have a few presentations, two of them are group projects which is super annoying for a final. I’ll be happy when this semester is over.”

“Me too. I get two weeks off, and then I come back second week of January. We have a lot of games.”

“When does the season end? Do you ever get a break?”

“It technically ends at the beginning of February, but if we make it to the playoffs and championship it could be beginning of March, and then we get a break. We all still go to the gym and stuff together, but I get a couple of months where I can sleep in which is nice.” She grabs her laptop and so does he. “What do you do for winter break?” She asks without looking at him.

“I go home, I’m really excited. I’ve secured a paid internship at a law office. I’ll miss working in the bakery, but I can do that over the summer if I want. This’ll be a way better use of my time.”

“That’s really exciting, Har. Is that what you want to do? Law?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. I’m just trying out some different things. I really like what I’m learning in my ethics class, so I thought maybe law would be cool. It would mean a lot of extra school though, so we’ll see.” He shrugs. “Six whole weeks we won’t see each other, gonna miss me?” He grins.

“Shut up.” She nudges him. “We’ll just have to figure out when to FaceTime with the time change.”

“It’s only six hours ahead, it’ll be easy enough to figure out. I’ll be able to introduce you to all my friends…and, um, maybe my mum too?”

“I’d like that.” She smiles at him and gets back to her work.

//

The ride to Y/N’s house only takes about an hour and twenty minutes. Harry sat in the back and listened as Angie spoke about how the weekend would go.

“Harry, I hope you don’t mind staying in Y/N’s room. I guess I’m old fashioned that way.”

“Oh! It’s no problem at all. Your house, your rules. I’m grateful you invited me. It was really boring on campus last year.”

“We’re happy to have you, honey.” She smiles back at him and then looks at Y/N. “Your siblings have a half day today, so they should be home around eleven.”

“What are their names again?” Harry asks as Angie pulls into driveway.

“Julie and Cooper.” Y/N says as she gets out.

Harry grabs their bags, and she leads him inside, and up the stairs.

“So, my mom’s bedroom is downstairs, makes it easier for her to be quiet on the late nights, and then all of ours are up here.” Y/N explains. “Here’s my room. My sister and I have a Jack and Jill bathroom, and then there’s another on down the hall.”

She pushes the door open and Harry gazes around. Her room was…shocking. It was a lot different from her room from school. The walls were a light pink, and her bedding was baby blue. She had plenty of trophies, but she also had posters of boy bands. There was a huge Jonas Brothers poster on the wall opposite of the bed. She also had a large poster of Zac Efron, and Tyler Seguin.

“It’s a little outdated in here, I just never think to redecorate.” She shrugs.

“No, it’s, um, it’s cute.” He clears his throat and puts his bag on her bed.

“Here, I’ll show you the bathroom.”

“And I’ll share this with you and your sister?”

“Yeah, but if you feel more comfortable you can use the one down the hall.”

She opens the door and shows him where he can put his things, if he wants, and then she shows him her sister’s room, which was a mess. She had a set of bunk beds, which had clothes all over them.

“Ugh, I told her she needed to clean up in here.” Y/N rolls her eyes. “Sorry about that.” She shuffles him back into her room.

“No worries, looks like any other house.” He smiles.

They both go downstairs and she shows him the rest of the house. Angie was working to whip up some sandwiches for lunch.

“You have a lovely home.” Harry says as he and Y/N sit down at the kitchen island.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart.” She smile and places two sandwiches in front of them.

“Thanks, mum.”

“I have to go do some work in the office, let Julie and Coop know there’s lunch made when they come in.” She smiles and leaves the kitchen.

“Your mum is really nice.”

“She loves it when she has all of us home, and she loves being a host.”

“I cannot believe you did that!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Oh boy.” Y/N sighs. “They’re home.”

“I’m never driving your friends home ever again, in fact, you can fucking walk!” Julie storms into the kitchen and stops short.

“Technically, that’s my car, and I say you have to drive him.”

“Y/N!” Julie smiles and hugs her sister. “Cooper and his friend decided to spill the beans that I have a crush on my friend Brian, and Brian just so happened to be in the front seat of my car.”

She huffs and grabs a sandwich. Y/N puts her hands on her hips and looks at Cooper.

“Why would you do that?”

“It just slipped out.” He shrugs and hugs her. “Oh, yum, mum made sandwiches.” He snatches one and looks at Harry, so does Julie.

“Sorry, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.”

Julie’s jaw drops when she hears his accent. She goes over to Y/N and whispers in her ear.

“You didn’t say he was British!”

“I can hear you.” Harr whispers and smirks.

“Sorry, um, it’s just…I wish I had known sooner. Our production at school is Mary Poppins, I’m Mary Poppins, and it just would have been nice to listen to you talk so I could study a real accent. I’ve just been watching videos of Julie Andrews.”

“Wow! You’re the lead, that’s so cool. Will we get to see it?”

“Mhm, opening was last weekend, but we always do a show during Thanksgiving break. Friday night.” She smiles and then heads upstairs.

“Clean up the clothes up there!” Y/N yells after her.

“Cooper, Y/N tells me you play hockey too, has your season started?”

“Not until after the holidays.” He finishes up his sandwich. “Not that it matters.” He rolls his eyes.

“Why do you say that?” Y/N asks.

“Because I’m a freshman on the varsity team, I’m gonna be riding the bench the whole season.”

“You made vars for a reason, they’ll let you play.” Y/N assures him, and then he leaves.

“You’re all so talented. Your sister is a lead in a play, your brother’s on the varsity team, and you…well, everything about you is amazing.”

“Harry.” She pouts and then kisses him. “You’re so sweet.”

“So, what are the plans for tonight?”

“Well, my mom is gonna go to the bar to work and to prep some of the food for tomorrow.”

“Does she need help?”

“Nope, she makes a lot of it advance. Most if it thawing in the fridges probably. We’ll hang out here for a bit, and then we’ll go to my friend Max’s house for a kickback.”

“Max, huh?”

“Just a friend.” She smiles and then furrows her brows. “I think you’re, like, my first real boyfriend.” She blushes.

“Awwww.” He squishes her face and kisses her. “I’m honored.”

Harry and Y/N mostly hang out in her room. Julie was mindlessly singing in her room, and Cooper was playing video games in his. Y/N ends up heating up a lasagna that Angie left for them for dinner.

“I need my car tonight.” She tells Julie.

“Why?”

“Max is having a party.”

“Can I come?”

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“Don’t you have your own friends to hang out with?” Y/N groans. “I’m not bringing you to a party where a bunch of my friends are going to be drinking and smoking and whatever else, plus, you need to stay home with Coop.”

“I’m fifteen, I don’t need a babysitter.” He scoffs.

“Can you both please just give me a break? I’m only home for a few days, and I just want one night to go see my friends.”

“Will you take us Black Friday shopping?” Julie asks.

“Fine.”

“Okay, your keys are in the bowl by the door.”

Harry and Y/N get ready in her room, and let Julie and Cooper know that they’re heading out and will be home a little after midnight. She needed to be home before her mom.

“So, how long have you been friends with Max? You’ve never mentioned him before.”

“Known him since elementary school, became good friends in eighth grade, became even better friends in high school. We talk when we can. He goes to a school a few hours away, and we’re both busy.” She shrugs. “Some other friends will be there too: Michelle, Brandy, Ryan, Candace, and probably others. Max has a big basement.”

She pulls up in front of his house, and goes around back to where the basement door was. She walks right in, and she squeals along with some other people. It was hugs all around. She introduces Harry to everyone, and grabs a couple of drinks out of the cooler. There were people vaping, and there were other people smoking weed.

“Y/N!” Max exclaims.

“Max!”

He lifts her up and spins her around, and kisses her cheek. Harry clears his throat.

“Max, this is my boyfriend, Harry. Remember, I told you I was bringing him?”

“Oh, right.” He shakes Harry’s hand. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“Same here.”

Harry looked hot tonight. He had his contacts in, he was wearing his black ripped jeans, and a dark green sweater. He puts his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and takes a sip of his drink. Harry stays sort of quiet as Y/N catches up with her friends, but she never leaves his side. She tells all of them how she and Harry met, and she kisses his cheek. It felt nice to finally bring a real date around her friends. Harry notices how attentive Max is to Y/N. Offering her a new drink just about every time her current one was empty.

They all get into a game of flip cup for a bit, and then someone starts playing really good music so a few people start to dance.

“Did you all party like this in high school?” Harry asks Y/N as he grips her hips.

“God, no! We’d usually just watch movies or hang out down here. We started having parties like this over the summer.”

“His parents can’t hear?”

“They’re not home! Everyone’s down at my mom’s bar drinking. She always does this big special the night before Thanksgiving. No one wants to cook the night before, you know?”

“Smart!”

She wraps her arms around his neck and grinds her front against his. They were having a great time.

“Damn, Y/N’s boyfriend is hot!” Michelle says to Max.

“I guess.” He mumbles.

“What are you so bent out of shape for?” Ryan asks.

“I don’t know…I forgot she was bringing him home. I didn’t think things were this serious, look at them!”

“She told me that they love each other.” Michelle says.

“Not helping.” Max groans. “It’s my own fucking fault. Should have made a move last summer.”

“Didn’t you guys make out?” Ryan asks.

“We kissed, and that was forever ago. It was summer before we went for freshman year. She hadn’t been kissed and neither had I, and we both wanted our first kiss to be special, so we got it over with, with each other. Neither of us ever talked about it again, but I wish I had. Now she’s kissing someone else.” He sighs.

And she was. Her tongue was inside Harry’s mouth. Her period was making her extra needy for him. She pulls him back towards the couch in the basement. There were plenty of other people making out, so it wasn’t a big deal. He sits down and she sits on one of his thighs, not wanting to straddle him and risk leaking. She tugs at his hair and attaches her lips to his neck. He gropes at her ass and bites his bottom lip as she sucks on his soft skin.

“Do you think, um, you’ll be able to drive back to my house?” She says into his ear.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Are you about ready to go?”

“Mhm.” She grins. “But I want you to drive us out somewhere first, somewhere I’ve always wanted to go with someone special.”

He smiles and nods. They both get up and say their goodbyes. Y/N hugs her friends, and gives Max an extra squeeze before leaving. She tells Harry where to go, and they end up parked out on this hill that has a beautiful view of the water and the nearby city.

“Wow.” He says. There are other cars parked and he smirks. “Did you bring me to a make out spot?”

“Maybe.” She grins. “I’ve only ever been here during the day. Wanna get in the back?”

He nods and they both get into the back seat. She kisses on him before inching down his body and undoing his jeans. She tugs his cock out and she starts pumping him. He holds her hair back while she gets her lips around him.

“Fuck.” He breathes.

She swirls her tongue around his tip and then licks around his shaft before sucking on him again. She moans around him and his eyes roll into the back of his head. She bobs her head up and down on him, and he starts to carefully thrust his hips up and move her head. He was fucking her mouth, he couldn’t help it. She was so wet and warm and perfect, and she was just letting him take control.

“Y/N.” He moans. “Feels so fucking good.”

She moans around him again, and he loses it without warning. She gags on him for a second, but she’s able to take it all, and then she swallows. She breathes heavily as she pops off him. She tucks him back into his pants and he pulls her face down to his. He bites and sucks on her bottom lip.

“How heavy is your flow?” He breathes.

“Don’t even go there.” She laughs and pulls away from him.

“Just wanna take care of you, baby.”

“It’s okay.” She smiles. “Come on, we need to get back to my house.”

Harry drives them back to her house, and they get inside. They both do their nightly routines and she gives him a kiss goodnight. She crawls into the bottom bunk of her in her sister’s room and settles in.

“Hey.” Julie whispers.

“Hey.” Y/N whispers back. “Do you always sleep on the top bunk?”

“No, I just thought it would be easier for you when you got in.”

“Oh.” She laughs. “Thanks.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Mhm, I took Harry to the lookout on that hill after the party. It was nice. Are you still upset about the Brian thing?”

“No.” She giggles. “He texted me and told me he liked me too. We’re gonna go out Saturday after the matinee. I’m excited for you to see the show.”

“That’s great! And me too.”

“Is it torturous to have Harry in your bed without you?”

“A little, but I don’t wanna disrespect mom. This’ll be fine for a few days. I have my period anyways, so it’s not like we can do much.”

“What was your first time like?”

“It was…special.” She smiles to herself.

The girls stay up talking until they fall asleep.

//

The next morning, Y/N crawls into her bed with Harry to have a little snuggle. They giggle and get up eventually. They all take turns showering and getting ready before going downstairs. Y/N drives them all to the restaurant to meet Angie there and help get everything set up.

“Wow.” Harry says as they walk into the bar. “This place is huge.”

“Yeah! We have live bands here and stuff, it’s so cool.” She walks him to the back where food was cooking.

“Smells so good back here.” He says.

“Thanks!” Angie says.

Everyone helps set up the tables and chairs, and family slowly starts to show up. Y/N introduces Harry to her aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. The long table was full of laughing and loud conversations. Harry really enjoyed the food that Angie had put together. He was happy to see that Y/N came from a really loving family.

They all take a nap after getting home, and then wake up around eleven to go to the mall for Black Friday shopping. They spend a few hours there, shopping for holiday gifts, and head home around two in the morning. Harry had so much fun, never having gone shopping like that before. Saturday, Angie takes everyone to Julie in Mary Poppins for a matinee. Julie was very talented, and Harry secretly hoped she was able to go to school in New York like she wanted. Saturday evening Harry plays video games with Cooper in the living room while Y/N spends some alone time with her mom. Things were going really well until the doorbell rang. Cooper sighs and pauses the game. He looks out the window first to see who it is.

“Shit.” He says and runs to the back of the house where Y/N and Angie were in the office. “Dad’s here.”

“What?!” Angie says. “Christ, he must’ve come to see Julie today. I’m glad she’s out with Brian.”  

Y/N and Angie walk out to the living room, and Angie opens the door, crossing her arms.

“What do you want, Robert?”

“It’s Thanksgiving weekend, I just wanted to see the kids.”

“You don’t have any sort of custody over them for a reason, you need to leave.”

“Y/N? Is that you? How’s school, honey?”

Y/N scoffs and rolls her eyes. Harry isn’t sure what to do expect put his arm around her as they sit on the couch. Cooper sits closely on her other side.

“I saw Julie perform today, she was amazing.”

“Yes she was, and I’ll pass the message along, now please go.” She steps forward and whispers. “I don’t want to have to call the police.”

“I just want to see my kids.”

“You have two other kids, go be with them and your wife. Does she know you drove all the way out here?”

“No.”

“Robert, get out of here. They don’t want to see you.”

She goes back inside and slams the door shut in his face. She locks it up and looks out the window to make sure he leaves. He sticks an envelope in the mailbox and gets into his car. She sighs heavily and plops down onto the couch.

“I’m so sorry about that.” She more so says to Harry. “He does this around most holidays.”

“It’s alright.” Harry assures her. “Every family has their issues.”

“Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m pooped, and I need to take you back in the morning, so I may turn in.” She kisses Cooper on the top of his head and goes to her room.

After Julie gets home, and dishes about her date with Brian, Y/N goes to cuddle with harry for a bit. He wanted to ask what exactly happened with her dad, but he didn’t want to pry.

“That was really embarrassing earlier, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, babe.”

“It’s just…like, ten years ago, we found out he was having an affair. He was shit to us, but amazing to this other woman. He had two kids with her, and was giving all of his money to her. My mom won full custody in court, all three of us said we wanted nothing to do with him, and she had a really good lawyer. It sucked, but we got through it. He ended up marrying her…and…well, we think he had a drinking problem or something, so now he’s trying to make up for lost time. Maybe someday I’ll forgive him, but right now I can’t stand him.”

“I’m so sorry.” He caresses her cheek. “That had to have been really hard.”

“The three of us had to see a therapist together, it was wild.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say. His parents divorced when he was really little, and he had a decent enough relationship with his father. He really couldn’t relate, but what he could do was sit and listen as she spoke, and gives her back gentle rubs as she continued to explain her trauma.

//

“Harry, do you mind if I drop you off first, sweetheart? I’m going to take Y/N grocery shopping.” Angie says as they approach the exit for campus.

“Not at all! Works for me.”

“Unless…do you need groceries?”

“I’ll go with my roommates later, they have a car, but thank you.”

He thanks her again for having him for the weekend, and tells Y/N he’ll text her later. Angie and Y/N go grocery shopping and she helps her get everything into her apartment.

“So…” Angie says. “I like him a lot. He’s very sweet, Y/N.”

“Yeah, he is.” They both sit down on her couch. “Thanks again for letting him stay for the weekend. I’m happy he got to meet everyone.”

“You really like each other, huh?”

“Well…we sort of love each other mom.”

“Oh, honey.” She puts her hand over hers. “I’m so happy you have someone that makes you feel this way, but try not to get too wrapped up, okay? He’s your first real boyfriend, and he lives in London when he’s not here, and-“

“We’re nineteen, I’m not saying we’re getting married, can you calm down?” She laughs.

“I just don’t want you getting heart broken when things get hard over the summer when you can’t be together all the time. Winter break is one thing, but three entire months apart…anything could happen.”

“I don’t know if he goes home for the entire summer. Louis and Niall don’t because of soccer. We haven’t talked about it yet. We’re just going with the flow.”

“Alright.” Her mom smiles. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You’re all growing up so fast.”

Y/N and her mom hug before she leaves, and then Y/N goes upstairs to unpack her bags. She gets a reminder on her phone that she needs to register for classes tomorrow morning. She had already spoken with her advisor about it, but she wanted Harry’s opinion on her gen eds.

Y/N: mom’s gone, are you around?

Harry: yeah! Just got back from the store, wanna come over?

Y/N: be there in ten!

Y/N puts her laptop in her backpack, and makes her way to Harry’s apartment.

“Hey.” He smiles and lets her in. “Long time no see.” He says sarcastically.

“I know, feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” She rolls her eyes and goes right up to his room. “I get to register for classes tomorrow, wanna see what my plan is?”

“I get to register tomorrow too! Yeah, let’s compare.” They each show each other their major courses, and then Harry squints at her gen eds. “Wait, you’re going to take the Art of Film for your creative thought requirement?”

“Yeah, Megan took it and said it was really easy. You just watch movies and talk about how they’re made.”

“I’m gonna take that too! Mondays and Wednesdays at 10:30, right?”

“Yeah!” She can’t help but squeal. “We’re gonna be in a class together? Wow, I bet you’re super sexy in class, all serious and taking notes. I don’t know how I’ll be able to concentrate.” She winks at him and giggles.

“It’ll, um, certainly give us an excuse to do homework together.” He was blushing.

“Mhm.” She closes both of their laptops and moves to sit in his lap. She kisses on his neck and wraps his arms around her back.

“Do you still have your period?”

“No.” She smiles against his neck.

“Thank god.”

Y/N yelps as Harry moves her to pin her down on his bed. He lifters her shirt up over her breasts and he frowns when he sees her sports bra.

“Why’d you even bother with this thing, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to bounce around while I walked over here!”

“But you had a coat on, no one would have noticed, just making things so difficult for me.” He pouts and helps her out of her shirt and bra. “There we are, hi girls.”

“Harry.” She giggles. “Stop being so silly.”

“Can’t help it.” He kneads her breasts and rubs his thumbs over her nipples. He stops and then he looks at her.

“What?”

“I think…I mean, I know you’re my girlfriend and all, but…you’re like my best friend, Y/N. I can just always be myself around you.”

She pulls his face down to hers. She felt the same way. Harry had become Y/N’s best friend. Things weren’t always sexual between them. They were able to joke around, sending gifs and memes to each other over text, tagging each other in tik toks the each thought the other would find funny. After she’s done sucking on his bottom lip she looks up at him smiles.

“I feel the same way.”

He smiles and dips his head down to suck on one of her nipples, and his hand slips inside her sweatpants. He pets her over her underwear at first, and then slips inside so he can really feel her. She groans as he rubs over her clit and moves to suck on her other nipple. If every moment between them could be like this, Y/N would be happy forever.

//

Reality was setting in as finals got closer and closer. Harry got busier tutoring other people, and even though he still made time to go to Y/N’s games, they weren’t able to hang out as much. They were able to meet up for a few holiday parties between their various friend groups, and that way great and all, but sleepovers were few and far between. They were able to practice some presentations together, and Harry did look over Y/N’s paper for Mind, Brain, and Evolution, but they both just couldn’t wait for finals to be over.

With finals being over, though, that meant they both would be leaving for the end of the semester. Finals week itself was more chill than the week leading up to it. Y/N and Harry had a sleepover almost every night, and she found herself waking up and crying a couple of times because she was going to miss him so much, and seeing her like that broke his fucking heart. She was such a sweet girl, and only he really got to see this side of her.

“It’ll be okay, baby, we’ll FaceTime and stuff, it’ll go by quickly.”

“I know.” She sniffles. “Just thinking about it makes me sad, though. Campus was so quiet last winter break. It’s boring having nothing to do but practice and go to games.”

“I wish I could stay…I should have tried to find an internship here, or something.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want you doing something like that just for me. It’s just gonna suck at first, but it’ll be nice to look forward to seeing you.”

“Exactly.”

She stayed in his arms as long as she could until Angie came to pick her up for the couple of weeks she’d be home. It was a teary goodbye to say the least.

//

Final grades came out after Christmas and Y/N nearly passed out when she saw she had received straight A’s. For the first time in her life she was an A student. It had to have been because of Harry. He really was a good study skills tutor. She couldn’t wait to tell him how well she did. She took a picture of her final grades and texted him. He almost immediately called her.

“Babe! What are you doing up? It’s like the middle of the night over there, isn’t it?”

“It is, but I heard my phone buzz, and then I saw your text. Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.”

“It was all thanks to you…”

“No, you put so much work in, that was all you.”

“How were your grades?”

“Sraight A’s, same as you.” He yawns.

“You need to go back to sleep.” She giggles.

“But I like your voice.”

“I like yours too, but we can talk tomorrow when we’ve both gotten some sleep.”

“Okay, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Harry was enjoying interning at the law office, and most days he would tell Y/N all about it. One evening they plan a FaceTime so Y/N can “meet” Anne and Gemma. Y/N was back on campus after the holidays so she didn’t have to worry about her siblings or mom embarrassing her. It was a great chat, Y/N spoke about why she was majoring in business, and what it was like to play hockey, and how she was looking forward to the season ending in a month or so.

“She’s very nice, Harry.” Anne tells him after they hang up.

“I know.” He says, proudly.

“You must miss her a lot.” Gemma says. “What are you going to do about summer?”

“Oh, Harry, please don’t stay in America over the summer.” Anne says.

“Wasn’t planning on it mum. I was sort of hoping she could come here for a visit when the lads and I go out to Italy for our annual holiday.”

“That’s like a three week trip you lot take, you better ask her soon so she can save up for the air fare.” Anne says.

“I know, I’m gonna run it by her when I get back. I didn’t wanna freak her out or anything. I can’t wait to see her. We have a class together this semester, so even if we both get busy we’ll be able to see each other.” Anne and Gemma look at each other and then back to Harry. “What?”

“It’s just nice to see you so smitten.” Gemma says. “Didn’t think you’d want to be so serious with someone in uni.”

“I didn’t either, but she took me by surprise. She’s just very real and herself, and I like that. Some of the girls at school are so fake sometimes, pretending to like things just because I do.”

“Aw, poor thing, it’s so terrible being liked by so many people.” Anne teases him and he rolls his eyes.

“S’not was I was saying. I’m done with this conversation, you both are so annoying.” He groans and leaves to go to his room. Anne and Gemma giggle with each other.

//

The other teams on campus were basketball and wrestling. A lot of the girls on the basketball team were with a lot of the girls on the hockey team, so Y/N would often go to their parties. She felt a little better about going to a party where there would be more girls, it just got difficult when Amanda and Gina would leave with a girl, and Y/N had to walk alone to her apartment. She knew she was safe, but it was creepy in the winter from it being so quiet. She missed her dance partner terribly.

What Harry hadn’t told her is that since he lived off campus, he didn’t have to follow the confines of the move in schedule, so he, Louis, and Niall, all came back a week early on the same flight. He was planning to surprise her at a home game. He bought flowers and went to the ice arena with the guys. Y/N’s eyes grew wide when she spotted him in the stands.

“That son of a bitch!” She said to herself very excitedly. Now she had to get through the entire game before running into his arms.

They played a great game and won, 3-1. Y/N rips her padding off and runs out into the arena only in her under armor not caring who saw, and she squeals when she sees Harry. His face lights up when he sees her running towards him. He opens up his arms and she jumps into them. She wraps her legs around his waist and slots her lips over his.

“I.” Kiss. “Missed.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “So.” Kiss. “Much.” She couldn’t stop kissing him.

“I missed you too.” He giggles. “You’re crushing the flowers I got you.” He snakes them out to show her.

“Thank you so much!” She kisses him again. “Ugh, I have to shower and stuff.” She pouts.

“S’alright, I can wait for you, or I can come to your place once you’re done here, whatever you want.” He lets her down and she smiles up at him.

“Come to my place in an hour, okay?” She takes the flowers from him.

“I’ll be there.”

She runs back into the locker room she can shower and get ready. She was extremely excited to see Harry for multiple reasons.

“Do you want us to go find somewhere else to be for a bit?” Amanda asks as they all walk to their apartment.

“Yeah, we can go downtown for food or something.”

“You guys are so nice. Maybe just stay downstairs?”

The girls nods and giggle as they make their way inside their apartment. Y/N rushes to clean up her disaster of a room. She picks out a thing she knows Harry will want to rip off and puts a pair of leggings on with it. She throws on a t-shirt without a bra, and waits for him. She was getting wet just thinking about the sex they were about to have.

Amanda lets Harry in and he goes right up to Y/N’s room.

“Babe?” He says as he goes in.

She lunches towards him and pushes him up against the now closed door, locking it while she kisses him. He lifts her up and brings her over to the bed. He gets on top of her and grinds against her. She groans as she gets his shirt off. His hands were a little cold from being outside, but she didn’t care. She wanted him to touch her all over.

“Good break?” He breathes as he moves to take her shirt off, attaching his lips to her breasts, leaving hot, wet kisses behind.

“Mhm, you?”

“Can’t complain too much.”

He yanks her leggings down and grins at her flimsy thing. He flips her body over and she giggles as he kneads her bum cheeks. He kisses down her back and down one of her cheeks while taking her thong off. He spreads her legs and licks into her from behind.

“Oh my god.” She gasps and he moans into her.

“So wet for me already?”

“Been like this since I saw you at the game.” She whines. “Please take care of me.”

“I will baby, I will.”

He was surprised she was letting him do this since she didn’t like having her ass in his face usually, but he wasn’t going to question her on it. Once he’s had a good taste he stands up to take his pants off. She pulls him forward by his hips and she wraps her lips around him.

“Christ.” He groans. “Missed this so much.”

“Aw, did the naughty pictures I sent you not help enough?” She pouts up at him, spit dripping down on her chin.

“No they helped in the moment, and then just made things worse because I wanted to touch you.”

“Touch me now.” She nearly growls and yanks him on top of her.

Harry taps two of his fingers on her bottom lip and she opens up for him to suck on. She swirls her tongue around them before he takes them away, slipping them inside her. She reaches for a condom in her desk drawer while he fingers in. She felt like she was going to go cross eyed.

“Shit, Harry.” She pants and then he takes his fingers away. “What are you doing?!”

“I want us to come together.” He mumbles as he takes the condom from her, sliding it onto his dick. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “We can fuck all night, though, so don’t feel like this needs to be drawn out.”

“No party?”

“No there is, but I’d much rather stay in and be with you alone.”

He spreads her apart and pushes inside. He nearly nuts right there from how tight she is. He stays there a moment before moving.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He grunts.

“I tried using my own fingers while you were gone, but you do it so much better.” She wraps her legs around him and pulls him even closer, nails dragging down his back. “Feels so good, Har.”

“You feel amazing, been dreaming of this, baby girl.”

He fucks into her hard and quick, rubbing on her clit, and they both cry out as they come together. He collapses on top of her and she plays with his hair before he pulls out. They just snuggle and lay together for a bit, talking about their breaks. Harry kisses on Y/N and holds her close. They end up doing it again, nice and slow with her riding him, rocking back and forth until he can’t stand it anymore and takes over the pace. She throws some clothes and grabs them both some snacks before cuddling back up with her laptop for a movie.

“So, I get you to myself for an entire week?” She asks.

“Mhm.” He kisses her temple.

“Good, I missed your bed.” They both chuckle.

“I have something to ask you…I know it’s a ways away, but every summer since I was in high school my friends and I take this trip to Italy for a few weeks. My friend’s dad has a house on the water, and we rent a boat. We go fishing, and we even go camping for a couple of days. It’s incredible…we usually go end of July through early August.”

“Okay.” She looks up at him sort of confused.

“Well…I know the plane ticket would be expensive, but how would you like to come with me this summer? Sometimes they bring girlfriends too, so you wouldn’t be the only girl there, not that I think you’d care much about that.”

“You’d really want me around for that long?”

“Of course! Be a nice way to break up the summer for us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I’d love to come out there…I’d just have to ask my mom. She really relies on my help during the summer. We get a lot of tourists so we’re super busy…”

“Even if it’s just ten days, doesn’t have to be the full three weeks, as much as I’d like you there the whole time.”

“I’ll talk to her about it for sure. That sounds like a dream!” She throws her arms around him and hugs him tight, kissing his cheek. “I’ve been to England before, you know?”

“How are you just telling me this now?” He laughs.

“I don’t know.” She laughs too. “I went during April vacation in high school my junior year, it was so much fun. So at least I’ve traveled internationally before. I bet she’ll be fine with it. A nice thing to look forward to.”

“Exactly.” He squishes his nose to hers and smiles.

Deep in her heart, Y/N knew she and Harry were still kids. He’d be twenty in a couple of weeks, but they were still so young. She loved him a lot and he loved her, and she knew it would be dumb to think super far ahead about their relationship. Right now, they were having a lot of fun, navigating college life together, and that was enough. It didn’t need to be overly serious. Y/N had a few friends that were seniors, and some of them acted like they were already married, playing house. She didn’t quite know where life was going to take her, and that was okay. She didn’t know where life was going to take Harry either, and that was okay too. They were both living in the moment, and absolutely fucking loving it.

[savoies]

Remember Those Days - Dylan Holloway.

Summary: Dylan forgets your anniversary and slowly remembers.

Word Count: 1.7k 

Warnings: mentions of sex and maybe a few bad words.

A/N: This fic went through about five rough drafts until I finally came up with one I liked. It was supposed to be an angst fic but hey we deserve something cute every once in a while, enjoy!

taglist: @hartsyhart ​ @nhlpetey ​ @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @ryanssuzuki  @aria253264 ​  @josty ​ @kaitieskidmore1 ​ @kiedhara ​ @laurenairay ​ @teenagekook ​ ​ @alxvlasic ​ ​ @hockeyallthetime ​ ​ @barzy-baby ​ ​ @officialgritty ​ @bowenbyram ​ @mems06 ​ ​ @joshsandersons ​  @connormcdavo ​ @maattamatthews ​ @pierreslucdubois ​ ​ @selenophileangel @boqvistsbabe @ana-maa @stars-canucks

tagging some friends: @npatrickz ​ @bestestbenn ​ @heybarzy @tkachuk-yeah @cozycozzy ​ @2manytabsopen .

(*credit to the gif owner*)

Today was your third year anniversary with Dylan. Honestly after a few years today your anniversary date was just spent at home doing whatever your heart desired together. Well today it seemed as though your boyfriend's heart desired to be with his friends.

“Babe I'm gonna hang out with the boys, I'll see you later ok.” he said as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Oh ok, but you’ll be home before six right?” you asked. 

“I was planning on coming back around ten, just depending on what we do, why do we have plans?” He asked, raising his eyebrow questionly. You shook your head no and let him walk out. You didn’t want to be one of those significant others that made a big deal out of it. You knew he was forgetful. I mean last week he had forgotten where he had left his phone the night before. You were used to this. At least you thought you were. Looking back at your time together Dylan had never forgotten any special dates. He had remembered all your firsts together down to a t.

Your first date.

First dates. Stereotypical to be an awkward time between two people to decide if they like like eachother or not. Well for you and Dylan that was not the case. Most sixteen year olds would go out to the movies or go down to the carnival in town (if there was one). But not you and him. Having grown up as acquaintances you were used to having him around. Honestly kind of surprised when he had asked you out but I mean hanging with Dylan was always a good time. It was a simple gesture and quite frankly you weren't sure how to say no. You had just gotten off of school and since both of you lived so close to each other he just decided to walk with you instead of asking one of his friends for a ride. 

“Hey Y/N wait up.” you turned around to be faced with the smiley blonde haired boy that you had grown accustomed to.

“Hey Holloway, whats up.” you spoke up as you kept your eyes trained on the ground. 

"You busy tonight?” he said as he nervously grabbed the straps of his backpack waiting for a response.

“Well considering I have homework but i'm pretending I don't then no i do not, why up for a late night adventure?” You looked up at him with a smirk. When you guys were younger you would sneak out of your rooms and go on adventures around the neighborhood until your parents would call you up and ask where you were.

“Actually kind of, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over later?” he shot you a small smile hoping that you would get the hint of him asking you out.

You thought about his words as they registered in his mind. If this was a dinner with his parents then your family members would have known as well. But he was asking you specifically which meant only one thing. “Oh uhm like a date, I mean yeah uhm sure.” you smiled back at him. I mean how bad could it be. Being in a small space with one of the cutest and nicest dudes you knew, yeah not a big deal at all. 

Later that night as you went over to his house you did not suspect what was about to go down. This wasn't a basic date and I think that is why you remember it so well other than the fact that it was with Dylan. You guys spent the whole night cuddled on the couch watching hockey game reruns and just talking about life, and not one single moment did he make you feel uncomfortable. 

Your first kiss.

Kisses are supposed to be magical. First kisses are usually awkward and yours was both. It was late one night and both of you sat on your porch after a date just looking at the stars and enjoying each other's company before you had to get back inside. Maybe it was a in the moment thing or the fact that you really really enjoyed your time together but next thing you know both of you were leaning into each other. Which of course for it being your first kiss something has to go bad. Somehow both of you made a wrong move or something and next thing you know Dylan’s bottom lip was bleeding.

“Oh my god Dylan I am so sorry.” You spoke up as you tried looking for a napkin or something.

“Honestly if my lip had to bleed everytime i kiss you I can handle it.” he looked up at you softly.

“Oh my gosh you are literally bleeding and you're using this time to make moves on me.” You laughed.

“Hey, it's working right?” he laughed as you hit him on the shoulder and waved him goodbye as he walked back home.

First I love you.

I love you. Honestly seems like everyone makes those words a really big deal. Some people saying don’t say it back if you don’t feel the same way, others saying try to refrain from it as long as possible. For you and Dylan it had been about ten months into the relationship. Him being away at one of his many hockey games. He was anxious. Honestly the most anxious you had ever seen him like this. Some scouts were going to be there and he had to make a good impression which of course you weren't worried about but he was. He had called you saying that your voice calmed him.

“What do you want to talk about?” you questioned.

“Literally anything other than this game.” He let out a breath he had been holding.

“Well I had a burger today from that place you like.” You randomly blurted out.

“Wait are you serious, how rude of you not to wait for me.”

“Don't come between me and my food.” Both of you continued on talking about each other's day until his coach came into the locker room.

“Ok Y/N I have to go wish me luck.” He sighed.

“Good luck Dyl you got this, I love you.” And before you could stop yourself from saying it those three words that seemed so powerful slipped out of your mouth first. I mean you didn't expect to say it first. Or even say it so soon. You knew it was true and had felt this way for a while but you didn't think you'd fall for him so soon. 

“What what, dId you, can you repeat that.” Dylan spoke up as a huge smile grew on his face. Honestly he was planning on telling you tonight but it seemed as though you beat him.

“Ah fuck it, I love you Dylan Holloway now go kick some hockey player butt.” You smiled on the other side of the phone call.

“Holloway, get a move on.” His coach yelled.

“Ok babe I have to go, I love you.” After that night he brought back a win and both of you laid in bed together exchanging the three words back and forth with huge smiles on your faces.

First Anniversary.

Honestly if people had told you that one day you would be going out with the boy a few doors down you would’ve told them that they were crazy. But one year later you were still going strong. And doing the same thing you did for your first date except this time with chocolate. Lots of chocolate. It was sweet. Dylan having had practice earlier in the day and texting you many times throughout the day on how he thought it was crazy how someone like you could date someone like him. He came home tired and all you did was lay in each other's arms as you played with his hair and both of you slowly drifted off to sleep.

First time.

First times. Scary could be one word for them. Opening up to someone on a vulnerable and exposed level can be one way to see it. Another way to see it is giving yourself entirely to the person you love. 

Draft day. A special day in many hockey players' lives. The day that will basically decide their future for them. It’s like the game life. Picking a career and a salary except for them is someone else doing it for them. So here Dylan was waiting and waiting as they called names and teams. 

You were a few doors down following the live draft deciding that it was better if he got this special moment with his family and you guys could spend time together later. 

As your boyfriend's name appeared on your screen you jumped up and down your room. Dylan having exchanged hugs and done the whole post draft interviews he came over. As he walked into your room you jumped into his arms. 

“Dylan, I'm so proud of you.” you whispered in his ear.

“I love you.” He replied as he softly but needingly kissed you. As one thing led to another both of you were on top of each other exchanging messy kisses with the door closed. Hands all over each other as articles of clothing were scattered across the floor. 

Waking up from the events of the past night brought a smile to your face as you laid in your boyfriend's arms with your legs intertwined. 

~~~~

Dylan had come back home as soon as realization hit him. How could he have forgotten. You were sitting on the couch watching some random reality show that was playing. 

“Hey Dyl, why are you back so soon?”  you asked on why he was six hours earlier than he had said. 

“Y/N baby fuck i messed up. Shit im so sorry.” he came over and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Dyl baby it’s ok, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” you smiled.

“Wait so I forget our three year anniversary and you're completely fine with it?” He asked.

“Remind me what we did for our first year anniversary.” You looked up your boyfriend.

“We sat in my room and watched hockey games.” He looked at you trying to see what you were getting at.

“And how long did that take?”

“I don’t know like three hours?” He questioned.

“So what's stopping us from doing it now, come here.” you said as you wrapped your hands around his taller figure. Both of you laid together for the rest of the day all your cares washing away.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Drawings on Ice (Part One) | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anonymous:  I’d love for you to write a Charlie hockey fic. I’ve been hearing that heard a great hockey player so I need that in my life

A/N: this is going to be a two-parter! Hope this is what you imagined! 

Summary: You moved from the US to Canada, starting over at a new college. Your newest (and only) friend begs you to join her at her boyfriend’s hockey practice where you see Charlie for the first time. With his beautiful eyes and perfect smile and perfect facial structure, you become obsessed with drawing him. It’s been a habit of yours to draw anyone you saw with interesting bone structure. Though your friend warns you about the jock bad boy, you can’t help but be intrigued by him... 

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Gender Neutral!Reader

A/N: I hope I made this as gender neutral as possible! Let me know if there’s anything I need to change to make it even more inclusive for non-binary/gender fluid people. 

Words: 3,648

Warnings: Some curse words (bitch, fuckboy)

You’ve never been a fan of any type of sports. Your siblings used to play basketball and you had to go to their games, though you were always busy sketching in your sketchbook to really notice or learn anything about it. Then, you suddenly had to move for your mother’s job. To Canada, of all places. Canada, the land of maple syrup, brutally cold winters… and hockey. The only good thing about moving thus far, was meeting Andrea. Andrea is a preppy, happy-go-lucky kind of girl, and was the first one to talk to you on your first day at your new college. Always dressed in pink or purple, make-up done flawlessly and always so kind, you think she’s being fake. Normally, people like that scared you. Kids like that in your American High School were always the popular ones that bullied the antisocial nerds, which included you at that point. That’s why you’d avoided talking to anyone on your first day. Only Andrea was persistent. You could not for the life of you shake her off. 

So, instead of trying any longer, you embraced it and became friends with her fast. Thanks to her, you found your way through the buildings and all the classes. She even gave you tips on some of the professors you had. 

To be fair, Andrea did help you out a lot, so when she asked you to come along to her new boyfriend’s hockey practice, you had no other choice but go. You’d packed your sketchbook though, just in case you got bored. “So, which one is yours?” you ask Andrea when you sit down in the bleachers with her. “Number eight!” she says, pointing to one of the players skating in circles. He catches his girlfriend pointing at him and gives her a wave, which makes Andrea giggle. The boy with the number 10 plastered on his back, turns upon seeing his buddy wave to the bleachers. You catch his eyes and feel a shiver run down your spine. Even from afar, you can tell those are the most beautiful and enchanting eyes you ever did see. “Who’s number 10?” you ask Andrea without taking your eyes off the boy. Without even noticing, you start to trace his features on your leg with your finger, a habit you developed over the years. His chiseled cheekbones, his fine nose, the wrinkles by his mouth as he smiles up at her. “Charlie. Sam’s best friend,” Andrea explains while you try your hardest not to stare at the cute hockey player while you’re tracing him. “Wouldn’t get too close though, I heard he has a reputation of being a heartbreaker.” Of course. All cute boys have to be absolute disappointments.  Despite Andrea’s warning, you couldn’t help but think about Charlie every minute of the day. It was the smile and the eyes that haunted you through every lecture and every study-session with Andrea in the library. You traced his features on your empty papers on automatic pilot, not even realizing you were doing it until you were actually drawing him with a ballpoint pen. “Honey, no!” Andrea says sternly. The two of you are at the library, studying for midterms when the drawing on your notes starts to take shape. The shape of a certain hockey player. “I can’t help it, Andi! He’s in my mind and I just -- my brain just tells me to draw things and he’s been the only thing on my mind lately, I… I don’t know why or what it is, but I’m kind of drawn to him?” The girl in front of you shakes her head disappointedly. “Look at him!” she whisper-shouts, nodding her head to somewhere behind you. You slowly turn your head to find Charlie with one leg up on a chair, leaning his elbow on it as he’s flirting with a girl. “That’s number five this week… And it’s Tuesday.” You can’t help but stare at him though. His profile is impeccable. Before you know it, you’re back to tracing his features on your leg. “Y/N!” Andrea shouts in a hushed tone, capturing your attention again, ruining your entire mental picture of Charlie. “You ought to stop that, sweetie. I don’t want you getting hurt.” “Oh, I don’t get hurt, Andi,” you reply with a smirk, turning to face her again, “Being the antisocial kid in high school has its perks.” Andrea’s eyes widen at something behind you. “Time to prove it then,” she mutters. You quickly hide your drawing underneath your textbook and pretend to continue studying as Charlie approaches your table. “Hello, ladies,” he greets with a charming smile. Though on the inside you’re just about melting, your tough exterior doesn’t give it away. “I don’t think we’ve met.” He reaches a hand out to you. “I’m Charlie.” You glance up from your textbook, let your eyes dart from his hand to his face and turn back to your textbook. “Okay…” he mutters, feeling a little defeated by his first rejection. “We’re studying, Charlie. Can we help you with anything?” He glances over at you for a split second as he thinks about it. 

“Uhm, yeah. Are you guys coming to the game this weekend?” His flirty demeanor changes all of a sudden to someone less confident. You look up at him, wanting to break your antisocial facade because it never brought you anywhere in High School and won’t bring you anywhere now. “I might. If I don’t have anything better to do, that is.” You decide to run with the sassy-bitch inside you. Charlie actually looks disappointed with this answer. “Okay…” he turns back to Andrea, “You’ll come, right?” She nods her head. “Can you convince her?” You chuckle at his desperate attempt, which earns you a glare from him. “She can make up her own mind, Charlie,” Andrea replies, raising her hands in defense. Gruntled and disappointed, Charlie turns around and leaves the two of you alone. “Girl!” Andrea squeals once he’s out of earshot, and holds up her hand for a high five, which you giddily give. “Told you I could do it,” you shrug with an amused smile on your face. “That was very impressive. Did you see his face when you didn’t even introduce yourself? He was so disappointed his charms didn’t work on you!” she giggles loudly. The librarian shushes her, and she holds up her hands in defense before lapsing into quieter giggles with you. You can’t help but feel bad though. Charlie actually seemed incredibly upset by your lack of interest. It makes you wonder if he actually says who people say he is. On Saturday, you go to the hockey game anyway. There’s nothing else you can do, and besides, it gives you a chance to draw a little more of Charlie in action on the ice. The surprised smile on Charlie’s face is to die for. It makes you feel like you’re the only girl he sees, like he’s not the guy people say he is. You say hello to Andrea and some of her friends you’ve met before, and sit down on the bench, immediately getting your sketchpad and pencil out. You start on Charlie, but halfway through, Andrea asks you to draw Sam too. Deciding it would probably be less suspicious if you drew the entire team, you start on Sam. By halftime, you have about every team member on your page sketched out. None of them quite as detailed as Charlie, but you’ll get to that at some point. “We’re going to say hello to the boys, you coming?” Andrea asks you when you’re shading your drawings. You glance up at Andrea, then glance down at the rink where you find Charlie already looking at you. He cocks his head, beckoning you to come over. For a second then, you’re forgetting all about your antisocial facade and feel yourself heat up. You cough the feeling away and get up after stuffing your sketchpad back into your bag, following Andrea down the steps. “You came,” he states when you reach him on the side of the rink. “Are you always this attentive?” you ask with a hint of sarcasm flavoring your voice. His chuckle fills your ears like a beautiful melody. Why does he do this to you? There honestly are so many boys that could be so much better for you, but instead, you’re crushing on the campus bad boy. “Are you always this hostile?” You’re dumbfounded at his comeback. No one ever called you hostile. Antisocial, sure. A bitch, multiple times. But never hostile. “You weren’t paying a lot of attention to the game though?” he says, changing the subject upon noticing your reaction. “Well, neither have you if you noticed me not paying attention,” you shoot back, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Touché,” he chuckles. “But seriously, what were you doing?” You open your mouth to say something, but are stuck on what to tell him. Do you lie to him? Or say the truth? “I--I’m an arts student, and I draw pretty much everything I see, so…” His eyes widen at your response, as does his smile. You’re not entirely sure if telling the truth was a good idea. He might just run off, like everyone in High School used to do when you told them you drew them, no matter how good it was. Everyone always thought it was creepy, so you tended to keep all your art to yourself. “Can I see?” he asks just as the ref blows his whistle, signalling the start of the next half. He gives me an apologetic look, thinking of a good compensation. “Stay after the game?” You know you shouldn’t. You know Andrea is probably right and he’s the biggest womanizer walking this earth, but looking into his gorgeous hazel eyes and witnessing his lips curl up into the most beautiful smile, you can’t help but nod your head. His teeth bite down his lip as he skates away, keeping his eyes on you. 

“What was that about?” Andrea asks you when you take your seats again. You let out a deep, confused, yet content sigh. “I have no clue…” For a while, you watch the game -- mostly Charlie -- and witness him making a goal. You, along with all the other supporters of the team, get up from your seats, cheering loudly. Charlie looks up at you, a wide smile plastered on his face as he points to you. Your heart skips a beat, not expecting him to do something like that at all. “Someone has a crush on you…” Andrea whispers in your ear, a teasing smile on her face. “No, he doesn’t! That wasn’t for me…” you try to reassure yourself, but fail miserably. That was for you, and you know it all too well. Another thing you know, is that this probably shouldn’t be quite as heart-melting as it is. “If that’s what you have to tell yourself…” Andrea mutters before turning back to the game. This is not what you thought would happen in your first month of moving to Canada and starting anew at another college. Not at all. 

The game is coming to an end now, and you’re still watching. Yes, you read that correctly. You’re still watching the game. A sports game. You! You never thought you would even last ten minutes watching, but somehow, Charlie made it all the more interesting. After every goal he’s scored, he pointed up at you, making you blush like crazy. You have absolutely no idea what’s happening or why he’s doing what he’s doing. All you know is that you like it. You like the way he makes you feel like a normal person for once in your life. Like you’re important. Like you matter. For once, it doesn’t feel like you’re the weirdo art kid that sits on the sidelines, drawing everything and everyone they see. “We’re going to go for some drinks with the team, want to come?” Andrea asks when the game is over and the players all head to the dressing rooms and the crowd files out of the bleachers. “Oh, uhm… I think I might stay a little while longer, you know? Work on my sketches,” you try your hardest not to smile like an absolute crazy person. Andrea raises her eyebrows at you, giving  you a knowing look. She can just about see right through you. “Just be careful, okay?” she takes you in for a quick hug goodbye and then leaves with her friends. You sit down again and take your sketchpad out of your bag to kill some time while waiting for Charlie. He probably has to shower and change out of his gear and talk to his buddies before coming out to find you. For a while, you just sit and stare at the drawing of all these boys. They’re scattered all over the paper, but only one really captures you, and that’s Charlie. He’s the boy in the center of the page. Somehow, you really managed to bring out his very best features. His sparkling eyes, his chiseled jawline, his sharp cheekbones. On that page in front of you is Charlie. Though the others somewhat look about right, Charlie really takes the crown in this picture. It’s almost like you’ve studied him so well, that you drew him this perfectly. Which is only half true. All it took was one look and you had him down. All of his features, all of his details. You had it all down from one single look at him. You’ve started adding some more shadows to his face, the world around you vanishing as those eyes stare right back at you. You’re so enthralled, you don’t even notice the real life Charlie walking up to you until his voice reaches your ears. “Hey, sorry if I made you wait long.” Your head snaps up and your eyes widen, almost looking like a deer caught in headlights. He places his bag on the bench in front of you before sitting down next to you. A scent of minty freshness and invigorating citrus meets your nostrils. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it,” you tell him with a smile, carefully closing your sketchpad and sticking your pencil between the rings at the top. “That was a very good game,” you compliment him, nodding towards the rink to emphasize. “I think… Not really a sports person.” He chuckles at this, glancing down at the floor bashfully. “I guess I found my lucky charm.” The second he looks up at you again and those words tumble out of his mouth, you can feel your stomach do flips. To cover the way it actually makes you feel, you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly. “How many people have you said that too, hm?” you ask with raised eyebrows. His smile falters at this, making you realize that it might not be something he likes to hear. The same way you don’t like hearing you’re a creep or a stalker for drawing pictures of people. “I don’t know what people have said about me to you, but I really am not what they peg me for.” His voice is soft, and for the first time since meeting him, he sounds fragile. “You sleep with two different people in one week, and they have you pinned down as the campus’ man-whore.” You give him a sympathetic smile, even though he’s not even looking at you. “I’m not actually this guy that sleeps around, you know? Sure, I flirt with a lot of people, but if your reputation precedes you, well…” he trails off at the end, and then finally looks up at you. “I know how you feel…” you start carefully, which captures his undivided attention. “There was this girl in high school and she had the most beautiful features, you know? Sharp jawline, the deepest dimples in her cheeks when she smiled… I couldn’t help but keep drawing her. She just took so well on paper, and when I showed her, she called me a stalker and a creep. From then on out, I became the stalker creep from Valley High.” You roll your eyes at the memory of Kiara and everyone else at that school. “So, I have a reputation that precedes me too…” “It’s nice to know I’m not alone,” Charlie says with a light-hearted chuckle. “Could I… Could I look at your work?” he carefully asks, pointing at the pad in your lap. You wrapped your fingers around the leatherbound sketchbook, debating it. “Promise you won’t run when you see what’s in here?” You offer it to him, and he grabs it, but you’re holding it so tightly, he can’t take it. He raises an eyebrow at you. “What? It’s not like you drew me or anything, did you?” he jokes, to which you just press your lips together in a thin line. His expression softens in realization. “Oh…” You stare at him for a moment, both of you holding onto the pad. “I promise I won’t run, okay?” You slowly let go of the pad. He places it on his lap and starts flipping through pages. The first few drawings are random kids from campus, either studying in the library or reading a book underneath the big maple tree. Then follow Andrea’s drawings. She suggested being your model, she said you could ask her any time you wanted. After that, Charlie’s sketches follow. The first few are of him during practice with his helmet on. On the next page, are the ones you drew in the library. Some profile, some portrait. He then flicks to the one of all the players, and shuts it after finding empty pages after that. It’s silent for a moment, like he’s taking it all in. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shown you that,” you quickly say and reach for your book, but Charlie has a steady grip on it. He finally looks up at you, a shocked expression on his face. “No. No, it’s just… I wish I knew the name of the artist that captured me so realistically on paper.” You swallow a lump in your throat as his hazel eyes bore deep down into your soul. “Uhm… Y/N,” you introduce yourself shyly. “I just have a habit of drawing people with really nice facial structure, I guess…” you add with a nervous chuckle, staring down at your fingers as they play around with the bracelets around your wrists. “Huh…” You look up at that, wondering if it’s a weirded-out ‘huh’ or something else. “What?” It comes out in an unwanted whisper. “No one’s ever given me a compliment about my facial structure,” he smiles down at you. It’s the most overwhelming feeling of warmth radiating through your body from that one smile. “It’s true though! If you check that last page of the whole team, the others don’t really have that sharp a jaw or chiseled cheekbones like you,” you state, pointing at the sketchpad. He opens it on that page and watches it for a couple seconds. “This makes me feel like the prettiest boy on the team.” He closes it again and hands it over to you, looking straight into your eyes again. You swear you’re going to faint one time if he keeps on doing that. “You are the prettiest boy on the team, Charlie,” you joke, grinning teasingly whilst clutching the sketchpad against your chest. Charlie chuckles at this, and you swear you can detect a slight blush on his cheeks as he looks down at his feet again. “You want to get out of here?” he then asks, “We could go to the coffee shop across the street to warm up? Get that little nose of yours back to its normal color.” He softly boops your nose, which is no doubtedly red from the cold from the ice rink. You giggle nervously, and then nod your head in agreement. The two of you get up from your seats and grab your bags. Before you even realize it, Charlie has grabbed your freezing hand in his warmer one, and guides you down the bleachers all the way to the café across the street. The warmth engulfs you like a welcome hug as the two of you take a seat in a booth by the window. “What’s your go-to coffee order?” he asks, perusing the menu even though he knows what he wants. You scan the booklet, looking for the one thing you always get.   “A cappuccino with whipped cream,” you reply, pointing at the order on the menu. “Ooh, good choice!” he agrees excitedly, “Would choosing a hot chocolate make me less cool?” You chuckle, “Well, it’s a hot chocolate, it’s bound to make you less cool.” He laughs at your joke, throwing his head back. You can’t help but laugh along, mostly at how adorable he is in a fit of laughter. “Good one, Y/N,” he says. You give your orders to the waitress, and lapse into a conversation about everything and anything. He asks you about your college major, and you ask him all about hockey. The way his eyes light up when he’s talking about the sport he loves, or anything he loves, is endearing. You can’t believe Andrea made you stay away from him for so long. Charlie really isn’t the bad boy jock she had him pegged for. If anything, he’s the opposite. He’s kind and considerate, and incredibly ambitious and passionate about everything he loves. You just want to know everything about him and spend as much time with him as possible. Without even realizing it, you’re tracing his features again on your leg, preparing for yet another drawing of him. Preparing for more adventures with him.

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[xlostinobsessionsx]

Good Girls are Bad Girls that haven't been Caught | Luke Patterson

Pairing: alive! 1995! Luke Patterson x fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,038

A/N: A big thank you goes to @bass-ic-deaky for proof-reading and making this fic much more vibrant! 💖

This fic is based on "Good Girls" by 5 Seconds of Summer.

Masterlist

Luke and (Y/N) knew each other since they were kids. They had been neighbors since childhood, so it wasn’t uncommon for them to be playing with each other in their adjoining backyards most days. But time went by and slowly they got older. On his 8th birthday, Luke had gotten a guitar and quickly realised his dream of becoming a rock star. After meeting Alex Mercer and Reggie Peters in middle school, the dream slowly became reality. Sunset Curve was born. (Y/N), on the other hand, took on violin instead. 

As time passed, they slowly began to grow apart. One would describe Luke’s style of music and dress as more rock n’ roll grunge. (Y/N), however, looked the total opposite, elegant, poised, which could also be heard through her playing throughout the neighborhood. (Y/N) listened to classical music and took ballet lessons while Luke continued his guitar lessons and went to ice hockey practice. It seemed like after all this time, the two had nothing in common anymore.

Now they were in high school and they barely knew the other existed anymore. The only times Luke saw (Y/N), even though they were still neighbours, was when they ran into each other in the hall or if they just so happened to leave for school at the same time, which these days was very rare. (Y/N) was quite the early riser, and was often already off on her way while Luke was still lying in bed half asleep. Though they had two classes together, they hardly spoke to each other. It was as if their friendship before this had meant nothing.

Sometimes Luke missed the old days. Back then, (Y/N) didn’t seem too different from him. He could still remember them sitting in his treehouse, sharing gummy bears and listening to an old Led Zeppelin album. Now all she ever seemed interested in was studying. But even despite their different paths, they talked to each other from time to time. Their parents, on the other hand, were still very close. Occasionally they met at one of their homes, cooked together, talked about their jobs and even more so about their kids. Luke had learned from his parents that (Y/N) planned to go to Harvard once they graduated. Of course, when they told him that, he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knew his parents wished he had the same or at least similar plans for his life. But Sunset Curve was finally starting to take off. After they played their first gig at a small bar in L. A., more and more bars and clubs were willing to let them perform. Luke had loved rehearsals before, now they were even more fun, especially knowing that they’d get to perform their new songs in front of more people than just Bobby’s parents. Bobby became a part of the band when he moved to L. A. four years after they had formed. With Bobby’s arrival the band not only found a rhythm guitarist, but also a place to rehearse. Before that, they had to rehearse in Reggie’s basement, between boxes and useless junk. Then of course his parents constantly fighting upstairs didn’t make for the best working environment.

Whenever Luke fought with his parents and just needed space to clear his head, there was no better place for him than a small shed in Bobby’s backyard which they had affectionately dubbed their studio. The words from his parents still rang in his ears as he pulled out his bike, guitar case slung over his back. 

“Why can’t you be more like (Y/N)?! She has good grades and a bright future at Harvard!” His mother had wailed.

“Being a rockstar is not a realistic goal, it won’t bring you any money or stability.” His father tried to convince him.

Every time it was always the same. Luke jumped onto his bike and made his way through the backyard towards the gate, when he stopped in his tracks. In the corner of his eyes he could make out a dark figure, running through the yard next to his. At the end of the driveway, he could make out the lights of a car, shining through the trees and the figure running towards it. When the figure finally came into the light, Luke could finally see who it was. She turned around, taking one last look at the house behind her before she opened the car door and got in before promptly speeding off into the darkness. Who did (Y/N) just leave with?

--

Luke was tired the next morning. Despite spending the night in the studio, far away from the trouble with his parents, the young guitarist hadn’t slept a wink. His mind was racing with thoughts of (Y/N) and the mysterious person she had left with. During their lunch break at school, he told his band members of the encounter. “Wait, you mean to tell us that (Y/N), the definition of the perfect daughter, snuck out?” Bobby asked in disbelief. 

Luke nodded. “Yep, got into a car with someone. Can’t say for certain who it was.” The eyes of the four guys wandered to said girl, who was sitting with her friends at a table not far away from their own. 

“I’ll dip into the school gossip and see what I can find out. I’ll deliver the goods.” Alex smirked. And deliver he did at their band practice later that day. “So you know Tori, the girl who sits next to me in chem class and never shuts up? She told me that she heard from one of her friends, who was told by one of his friends that (Y/N) was spotted with Brandon Jones in the back of the library.” 

“Brandon Jones?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Alex nodded “Yeah, the captain of the football team who always drives a really expensive car.”

“How do they even know each other? Isn’t he usually on the brink of suspension?” Reggie asked curiously to which Alex shrugged. 

“Well, well, well, seems like your little (Y/N) likes bad boys, Luke.” Bobby laughed, while throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulders. 

Luke quickly shrugged it off with a grimace. “She’s not my (Y/N).” He snapped. “It just surprises me that she sneaks out to meet him. That doesn’t sound like her.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you know her so well after barely talking to her for years and only making eyes at her from afar.” Bobby countered. 

“I’m not making eyes at her!” The guitarist defended himself much too quickly to be believable. Back in the day when he still was friends with (Y/N), he may have had the tiniest of crushes on her. Luke had to admit that (Y/N) was indeed very beautiful, but he most certainly wasn’t making eyes at her as Bobby had suggested. 

--

A few days passed. Luke sped through the house looking for his jacket so he could get going to band practice, which he was already running late for. “Mom, Dad. I’m going to Bobby’s” He shouted through the house, hoping his parents had heard him. Finally finding his jacket under his bed, he shrugged it on as he made his way through the kitchen. 

He was about to open the back door, when his mom appeared behind him. “Don’t you have a french test to study for? (Y/N)’s father told me about it.” Emily looked expectantly at her son, arms crossed over her chest. 

Luke rolled his eyes and turned around. “Yeah, that’s why I’m going to Bobby’s. We’re gonna study together.” He lied convincingly. 

Emily nodded slowly, a bit skeptical. “(Y/N) studies every night alone and gets good grades. Maybe if you would just concentrate more, you could study alone, too.” Emily suggested. Luke laughed silently. (Y/N) studying every night? That was rich, if only her parents really knew their daughter. 

Luke mentally shook his head out. “Sure, but Bobby is better in french than I am. So he can help me. Work smarter not harder, isn’t that what they say?” He shrugged. 

Emily looked at him thoughtfully. “You could study with (Y/N). She’s nearly fluent in French now.” 

Luke nodded, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he opened the door. “I’ll think about it, alright? Now I really have to go!” He quickly said and made his way outside, slamming the door behind him. He couldn’t be late, after all Sunset Curve was playing another gig tonight. Luke took his bike from its spot against the fence and made his way towards the gate to the front yard when he suddenly saw a figure out of the corner of his eye again. Her hair was flowing in the wind as she quickly made her way through the darkened yard only this time instead of just watching, Luke went after her. Before (Y/N) could reach the car that was waiting for her behind the trees, Luke touched her shoulder. Startled, she let out a yelp of surprise as she spun around. “(Y/N)?” 

“L-Luke...hey.” She laughed nervously. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asked her confused, he was half expecting her to be up in her room studying like the perfect little princess she was. 

(Y/N) clasped at his wrist and pulled him behind the trees, out of the sight of her house. “Don’t you dare tell my parents about this!” She hissed at the guitarist through gritted teeth. 

Luke laughed. “What? That their little princess is sneaking out?”

“I’m not a princess!” She angrily countered. 

Luke shook his head “Nah, you’re right, you’re clearly the living definition of a goody-two-shoes. Such a good girl, eager to please.” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes “You clearly forget everything you thought about good girls.” 

Luke furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

Suddenly a voice interrupted both of them “(Y/N) you’re coming?” Brandon Jones, cool as ever with a cigarette poised elegantly between his lips, sat in the car beside them, looking with raised eyebrows at the girl in front of Luke. 

(Y/N)’s gaze wandered between the two boys “I gotta go.” She murmured as she opened the car door. But before getting inside she paused and turned to Luke again. “Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.” She winked as she got into the car immediately rolling down the window. “Now be a good boy and just turn around and forget about this encounter, alright?”. With that, she sped off leaving the guitarist standing there dumbfounded. Luke shook his head in disbelief, what had just happened?

When he arrived at Bobby’s, (Y/N) words were still running laps through Luke’s head. He was quick to tell the rhythm guitarist about the encounter. “‘Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught’.” Bobby murmured. 

Luke nodded. “That’s what she said. Sounds pretty rad don’t you think?” He looked at the other guitarist who nodded in agreement. “Yeah...” Suddenly it was extremely and rather awkwardly quiet. “Do you think that they-” Luke started.

“Are seeing each other?” Bobby finished his friend’s question, the lead guitarist nodding in confirmation. “Would it matter?” 

Luke shrugged. “I mean, I just don’t want her to see her being pressured into something she doesn’t want to.” 

Bobby laughed quietly. “OR you just don’t want her doing anything with Brandon.” 

“Okay, I am definitely not jealous!” Luke countered, shaking his head.

“I never said you were, but now that you mention it…”

“Oh shut up...besides I’ve barely spoken to her in years!”

“But people don’t really change that much!” Bobby countered. 

Luke huffed dramatically. “Well she did!” 

“I don’t know about that, bro. Sneaking out? Doesn’t really sound like the (Y/N) we know from school.” He paused a moment. “The (Y/N) you knew when you were younger, the one you’ve told me about, that’s her down to the letter.” He shrugged as rose from his spot. “But enough about this. We’ve gotta go pick up Alex and Reggie. Otherwise we’re going to be late!” Luke quickly nodded, grabbing his guitar before following Bobby outside. 

The club was completely packed with people. Luke could hear the audience’s chattering from backstage. “This is so cool!” Reggie excitedly said after taking a look through the club. “There are so many people here from school, too!” 

Luke took a deep breath. Adrenaline was starting to course through his veins. He could practically hear his heart beating in his chest as the band made their way onto the stage. He blinked a few times as he tried to get used to the spotlights. His gaze drifted down through the crowd in front of them as they quickly set themselves up. Suddenly he stopped. At the back, right next to the bar, there she was standing. Their eyes met and a small smile played around her lips. Luke laughed to himself quietly before taking a step closer to the mic. “We’re Sunset Curve!”

After their gig, Luke made his way through the crowd. Everytime someone patted his shoulder to tell him how good they were, she nodded thankfully but his eyes always stayed fixated on (Y/N). When he finally stood in front of her a giggle left her lips “Good show, Patterson.” 

He smirked, leaning against the bar. “Thanks.”

“Just like we imagined when we were kids.” She slightly bumped against his shoulder. 

The guitarist felt his heart beat faster at this. Nervously he rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess.”

“So that’s what you’ve been up to all this time...?” She quietly asked, her gaze drifting through the crowd. Luke nodded in reply. “And soon you’re gonna be famous!” She smiled suddenly much more excited. 

Luke laughed “I think that’s still a long way off. What about you? What’ve you been up to?” He asked her curiously. 

“Oh, you know violin and ballet lessons, the usual. I haven’t told my parents yet that I’m sick of it!” She nonchalantly took a sip from her coke and looked at him. 

Luke furrowed his brows, he was genuinely confused. “I thought that’s what you liked? I mean you got your violin around the same time I got my guitar.” 

(Y/N) shook her head “I practically begged my parents to get me an electric bass so we could form a band but they got me a violin. Said it would be better for me.” 

Luke was surprised at those words. “A band?” He saw (Y/N)’s cheeks taking on a pink shade. 

She shrugged. “Like Led Zeppelin.” Suddenly ‘Whole Lotta Love’ started to blast through the speakers of the club. (Y/N) laughed “That’s creepy. Like they’ve been listening to us talk about it.” 

But Luke barely listened to her. Instead he had been transported back to 1987. He had just found the old Led Zeppelin EP in one of his dad’s boxes he kept into the attic. He had immediately called (Y/N) to meet him in the treehouse. They had been listening to the songs when suddenly (Y/N) had told him about her best female friend (Y/F/N), who had told her that she had kissed Fynn, a boy from their class. “Like a real kiss? On their lips?” Luke had asked with wide eyes. He, of course, had asked her if she ever had kissed a boy on the lips. (Y/N) had admitted that she had never. In her childish recklessness, or could it be her boldness, she had told him that he was the only one who she would have wanted to kiss. Luke remembered how nervous he had been, when (Y/N) had leaned in, ‘Whole Lotta Love’ playing in the background when their lips touched but for a short second. 

Luke looked wide-eyed at the girl in front of him, who didn’t know the memory that was playing in his head at the moment. His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips. Maybe Bobby had been right. Maybe (Y/N) hadn’t really changed that much and maybe he still had those feelings he had for her when he was smaller. He quickly shook his head. He couldn’t have those thoughts. (Y/N) was here with someone else. “So where’s your shadow?” He asked, referring to Brandon. He turned to the bar to order a coke. 

She sighed “Having a smoke.” 

“Already missing him?” He laughed. 

(Y/N) huffed, slightly annoyed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“I thought you were a thing?” Luke asked, turning to her again. 

(Y/N) furrowed her brows “Who told you that?” 

“Nobody. I just thought because you always sneak out to meet him and because you’re here together…?” He shrugged. 

(Y/N) laughed. “No, I mean it’s fun to hang out but I would never...I mean...he’s a player and only plays with girls.” 

Luke looked at her amused. “So you’re just hanging out with him for the sake of hanging out?” (Y/N) nodded. 

“I was just tired of everything. Of my life. It seemed like a good escape, you know? But now...it’s really hard to make it clear to him that nothing will ever happen.”

“Just be careful, alright? I don’t think he’ll let you get off the hook so easy.” 

(Y/N) shook her head “Soon he’ll get tired of me and look for someone else.” 

“And what about you then?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and turned to him, something obviously weighing heavily on her mind. “Luke, I-” She started, but before she could finish her sentence they were interrupted as an arm found his way around (Y/N) shoulder. 

“I’m back.” Brandon smirked, eying Luke suspiciously. 

“Hey Brandon.” Luke smirked, annoyance evident in his gaze, before turning to (Y/N) again. “It was nice catching up, (Y/N). See ya around.” With that he made his way through the crowd, trying to stop himself from thinking about (Y/N).

--

Days passed. Once again, Luke barely saw (Y/N) apart from their classes. He was sitting in his room, writing down the lyrics to a song that had been stuck in his mind for days, when suddenly the doorbell rang. He ran down the hall of the family’s ranch style home and was met with her beautiful eyes, when he opened the door. “(Y/N)! So good to see you!” Emily greeted with a big smile, appearing behind Luke. “Come on in.” Luke stepped aside to let the girl inside. With a questioning glance, he looked to his mother. “I called (Y/N)’s parents to ask if she could help you in french. I think that would be better than having to go all the way to Bobby’s, right?” 

Luke nodded slowly “Uhm, yeah. Sounds good. Uhm, we could go into my room?” He suggested, looking at Emily. 

His mother nodded “Yes, but leave the door open. I’ll bring you some snacks.” 

Luke nodded in agreement and turned to (Y/N). “Shall we?” (Y/N) nodded in reply and followed him down the hall to his bedroom. “Take a seat, I guess.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk as he took a seat on the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you in french.” She laughed. 

Luke nodded slowly, a sly, teasing smirk appearing on his face. “And, uh, is Brandon alright with you hanging out with me?”  

“Who cares?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. “Right after your concert I told him I couldn’t see him anymore.” 

Luke furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“As I already told you, at first it was just an escape but...he wanted to do more the entire time and I just didn’t want to...at least not with him.” She laughed. 

Luke looked at her, a playful glint in his eye. “Not with him, huh? So someone else has caught your eye then?” he laughed. 

(Y/N) shrugged, casting her glance downward. “Maybe. But that won’t happen, so…” 

“Why not?” 

(Y/N) sighed, nervously keeping her gaze trained to the ground, before looking up at him again. “Luke...you see...I know we haven’t had that much contact over the last few years, but...I wish it was different and I’m sorry. I thought...well I had hoped...“ She paused, inhaling deeply. “Maybe we could start over? Being friends again?” She asked, hope evident in her voice. 

Suddenly Luke felt his heartbeat just a tiny bit faster. “Friends?” He croaked, before clearing his throat. “You mean like back in the day?” 

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, and uhm maybe…” She nervously played with the necklace around her neck. Luke’s eyes drifted to the pendant. It was the necklace he had given her when she had turned seven. Inside it he had put a picture of the both of them. (Y/N) eyes softened when she saw what Luke was looking at. She took the chain from around her neck and slowly took his hand, placing it in his palm. She looked expectantly at it before looking up at him. Luke opened it and found himself looking at his and (Y/N)’s younger selves. In the picture he had his arm slung around her shoulders. Both of them were smiling brightly. 

Luke sighed as he smiled at the memory of that day. “I had a little crush on you back then.” He admitted quietly, staring at the toothy grin of her younger version. 

“You did?” (Y/N) asked. 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the picture. “I was so sad when we stopped talking, but it...it had just happened, right?” 

“I wish it hadn’t...I uh...I had a crush on you, too.” she murmured. 

Luke laughed quietly, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. “So if we want to go back to how it was then…” 

“You would have a crush on me?” (Y/N) smiled hopefully. 

Luke shrugged. “Maybe I still do.” He felt his cheeks heating up as (Y/N) clasped at his hands. 

“Maybe I still have a crush on you, too.” 

Luke’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes met (Y/N)’s and he couldn’t stop his smile from growing wider if that was even possible. “Just maybe?” He asked cheekily, as he slowly leaned in closer. 

“Alright, so definitely.” (Y/N) giggled as their lips connected in a tender kiss. 

--

“Please, you have to come!” Luke whispered into the phone in the kitchen where the landline was. It was already dark inside the house, his parents already having turned in for the night. 

“Okay, fine. But you tell my parents that you have a good influence on me the next time they see us.” She laughed through the speaker, before hanging up. 

They met behind the trees at the back of their yards. He leaned in to greet her with a short kiss. “I missed you.” He murmured, hiding his face into her neck. 

“We just saw each other a few hours ago.” (Y/N) laughed. 

“That’s so long ago!” He countered as Luke got onto his bike and looked expectantly at (Y/N), who stood on the tire spokes behind him. “Hold on tight!”

The venue was filled with people dancing and chattering. (Y/N) followed Luke to the side of the stage. “Stay here so you’ll have a good view of the stage and that way I can see you, too.” He said, looking at her with a wide smile. 

“Knock ‘Em dead, rockstar!” She beamed at him, leaning in to give him a good-luck kiss. 

“Alright, enough of that lovebirds. We gotta go!” Bobby laughed, interrupting the cute moment pushing Luke toward the stage. 

Reggie smiled at them. “Look at all the people! It’s gonna be sick!” 

Alex shrugged nervously. “I hope they like us...” 

(Y/N) smiled at the other band members “You’re gonna rock this, I’m sure of it!” She hugged them and wished them good luck, before the band went onto the stage. 

Luke’s gaze immediately fell to his girlfriend, who gave him a thumbs-up. He winked at her before getting closer to the mic. “Hey, we’re Sunset Curve, thank you for having us.” The crowd erupted in cheers. “Thank you.” He laughed “We directly wanna start with a new song. It’s inspired by a person who means the world to me.” His gaze fell to (Y/N) again, who was smiling at him. “It’s called Good Girls/Bad Girls.”

“She said to me forget what you’ve thought, cause good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.”

[purekesseltrash]

Chapter 12 of Bury Them Deep, the final chapter, is out!

Fave Excerpt:

Mezou jammed his hands inside of his coat pockets, unsure of what to say or even do besides grin like an idiot.  Tokoyami came to a stop finally and stared at Mezou, mouth open as if he was about to speak.  He gaped for a moment more before a distinctly annoyed look came across his features.  “Fuck,” he hissed, “I had a whole speech that I was thinking up on the way here and suddenly I have found my mind to be a blank slate.”

Mezou laughed, unable to help himself, “I don’t need speeches.”

Tokoyami stepped forward to grab at Mezou’s coat, his grip firm and his face honest, “You deserve them.  I fear I am an incurable romantic and this is simply how I function.  But my words have fled like cowards and the only part of the speech that I can remember is this, but it is the important part.  Let me take you on a date.  A real one.”

“I’d like that,” Mezou said softly.

Fun Facts:

- Hand to god, I had not decided on names for all of Shouji’s siblings until I had to write them.  Thank you, Japanese Name Generator.  Though Makoto is another Sailor Moon reference.  I also had not know that Shouji’s mom was where he got his artistic eye from, though I am glad for it.

- My favorite Hip song is ‘Lake Fever’ or ‘Scared’.  I thought that the lyric in Lake Fever was ‘You whispered Courage’ for the longest time, legitimately until I checked the lyrics to write the pivotal fucking scene only to find out that no, it was ‘hurry’.  It all worked out, thank GOD.

- IDK if anyone noticed, but I ship them as Tokoshouji, as opposed to Shoutoko.  I like the idea of Tokoyami being one taking the initiative better and it seems to fit his character anyway.  I don’t see this dynamic often and it drives me nuts because I could write an ESSAY on why it works so well.  Idk.

- Not even gonna lie, the last Mic segment made me cry.  It was like my final good bye to everyone reading, it’s personal.  And it’s basically me peeking out there, as opposed to just Mic.  For all of hockey’s shitty aspects, it’s the best game in the world.  I love it and I want it to be good and I will do what I can to make it be good.

More stuff under the read more about my future plans with this universe:

- So I have written a chapter and a half of an Erasermic prequel, basically telling the story of what happened when Shouta retired and ended up drugged to the gills and numb to the world at Hizashi’s doorstep, despite the two of them not having seen each other in legitimately over 10 years.

- I also have a side story of Kirishima and Bakugou, both with an idea of how they got together as well as what happens to them when they get to the NHL.  (Spoilers:  Kirishima does not have a good time as the first out and gay NHLer.  He basically gets buried in the minors despite being legitimately good.  Eventually he finally quits hockey way too young.  Bakugou meanwhile is a generational talent and is legit too good to bury in the minors.  When Kirishima retires, Bakugou flies to Tokoyami and Shouji’s house, where Kirishima is licking his wounds, and is like ‘Marry me.’  Kirishima tells him that he’s only going to say yes if Bakugou proposes with a Cup ring and Bakugou is like ‘Bet’.

- I also have one in mind on Ojiro and Shinsou.  They had an amicable breakup when they graduated, both understanding that the life of a hockey wife wasn’t gonna work for Ojiro.  Ojiro went on to meet a super cool alt girl through the info sec community and they got married and had a daughter.  They end up splitting up amicably when their daughter is around 7 and split custody without much of an issue.  Ojiro works remotely and lives in what is basically a lake cabin up in northern Minnesota.  He and Shinsou have kept in touch and when Shinsou finally retires, he comes to visit Ojiro.  The fic would go over them meeting up again.

- And then, of course, there’s Shouji and Tokoyami.

They get their shitty apartment in Atlanta.  Kenta helps them with the deposit and also goes with Shouji as he tries to find one.  Shouji ends up getting taken on by Orca, a buddy of Loder’s who generally doesn’t take Midwestern farm boys on as apprentices but he makes an exception, despite the fact that his work very afro centric.  Shouji is a nice guy though and a damned hard worker and has a good eye so Orca keeps him on for a long while.  Shouji still ends up picking up a bunch of odd jobs here and there, mostly grunt work like putting up drywall, but it gets him and Tokoyami through the absolute agony that is legal school.

Tokoyami goes into intellectual property law.  He knows how much work goes in to art and creative stuff and he wants to protect people like Shouji.  He ends up making a pretty nice living and they’re able to pay off the credit card debt that they accumulated during Tokoyami going through law school.  Shouji actually starts doing pretty well for himself too, mostly with his pottery but still with some sculpture.  Eventually Tokoyami proposes that they move to Raleigh, both because it makes sense for both of them and their jobs and well... because they have a hockey team.

Shouji never gave up hockey.  He had some years right after college where he did struggle to even look at his gear.  He had told his parents that he was gay and not going to the NHL over the phone as they were planning to come to his graduation, because he just couldn’t take them wasting money when he knew that they would never want to talk to him again.  Unfortunately, he was right.  Kenta still came to his graduation though and had two bullhorns that he slammed the entire time that Shouji was accepting his diploma.  He even brought Shouji his own pride flag and insisted on taking a picture with him holding it.  He posted the picture on his facebook with a very bold pronouncement that he was very proud of the first Shouji to get a college degree and how anyone that had a problem with his little brother could take it up with Kenta.  Still, Shouji went through some real mourning with the loss of his family and he took a small break.

But then he came back to it, once they started to get a little extra spending money.  He found a beer league group in Atlanta and started to really get back into the game, researching ways to improve in his downtime.  It got a little weird sometimes at the beer league games because sometimes Shouji would forget that he’d decided to wear eyeshadow or would forget that he had on entirely wrong undergarments but everyone accepts that goalies are weird so it was accepted.  Eventually he ends up having people ask him to coach for their kids, which he is loathe to do until Tokoyami points out that it’s better than Shouji do it, as someone who knows how damaging expectations and pressure can be, than anyone else.  So that becomes a little part time job of his.

Everything isn’t perfect for Shouji and Tokoyami.  Nothing is perfect.  Tokoyami is a borderline hoarder and Shouji can’t stand mess and that causes them to fight enough that they wisely seek counselling. But they’re happy.  Tokoyami eases up on the goth stuff and accepts his accent a bit more, though he still dresses in dark colors, especially for court.  Shouji actually gets to play around a little with the whole genderqueer thing and makes up for the time that he spent avoiding anything that would make him seem too gay.  And they still work really well together, becoming the pair that everyone from college kind of groans at, because they’re so ridiculously in love, but also envies.

They get season tickets to the Carolina Hurricaines.  You’ll see them with Tokoyami in a Devils jersey and Shouji with one of many from his massive collection.  Tokoyami will make comments here and there during the game, showing that he does actually listen when Shouji talks about goalie stuff and they only ever miss a game for gallery openings or work events.  Otherwise, they are there in their seats, holding hands and watching the game.

Feel free to ask me any questions!  I’m more than happy to talk about this, if you couldn’t tell.  (Also, I do have some half written smut so uh.... yeah.)

[lovecanbesostrange]

Okay, for the poor people on the Ruby Lucas Harem Discord suffering because of this ask (x) on konako’s tumblr that lead to things (including this fanart x), I have this wild scene out of context.

Mary Margaret was sitting at her desk, updating her chemistry flashcards. Ruby was sitting on her bed cross-legged staring at her laptop screen, waiting for this English essay to write itself.

“Ugh,” Ruby groaned and let herself fall backwards. Out of habit she put her hands to her face, but winced when her fingers touched the band aid over her eyebrow. It’s been five days.

A knock on the door made them both turn. They usually could tell who it was by the exact sound of the knock. Like Charming had one hard knock followed by two quick ones or Mulan knocked four times in a specific rhythm. So whoever this was, was more than unexpected. Ruby drew in a sharp breath. She had heard back from the police yesterday that there would be no criminal charges, but they both knew something else would arise from this.

Mary Margaret looked at her, then turned her chair to fully face the door and Ruby got back up again. “Come in.”

“Hallo. Good, you’re here.”

“Mom!” Mary Margaret was up in a second and gave her mother a hug. “I didn’t know you’d be coming.”

Eva hugged her back, but despite the smile on her face, her voice already made them realize this was not a fun surprise visit. “I didn’t know I would be here today either.” The hug ended and she stepped into the room, her gaze landing on Ruby. “I got some news last night and suddenly I was in my car this morning.”

Mary Margaret glanced at the clock. It was a twelve hours drive with good traffic, so Eva must’ve gotten behind the wheel around 4am.

“Hi…” Ruby busied herself closing her laptop and didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Eva stroked Mary Margaret’s hair, “would you mind giving us the room? I want to talk to Ruby.”

“Sure.” Mary Margaret glanced between the two and then grabbed her things from the desk. “I’m down the hall in the common area.” When she passed Eva she whispered: “Don’t be too harsh on her, please.”

That made Eva smile. Her daughter knew exactly why she was here, but she looked out for her friend. These girls always had each other’s back and knowing they were loyal like that, dragging each other out of trouble, was certainly a good thing.

Eva took the vacant chair and rolled herself over a bit towards Ruby’s bed. “So.”

Ruby slowly looked up. Eva took in the bandaid and she could see a faint red line indicating that her lip must have been busted. Trying to hide one hand with the other was a giveaway that her knuckles were bruised as well. Eva had to breathe slowly. A part of her wanted to grab Ruby by the shoulders and shake the whole story out of her. She wanted to yell about irresponsibilties, the futility of violence and all the consequences physical assault could come with. The bigger part of her wanted to cradle her like the 9 year old she sometimes still saw, who confessed to lying about her home address, as if not having loving parents was her personal failing.

“I was at dinner with friends last night and suddenly got asked if I heard about the ruckus on campus. I was really surprised when I was shown this tiny article about a football player beating up another student. And it took me two phone calls to find out it was you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby murmured towards the blanket she was sitting on, playing with the seam of her sweatpants.

“For what?” Eva tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible. She had felt every emotion during the long drive and had played out many versions of this conversation. But sitting in this room she realized none of those would work.

Ruby furrowed her brows and finally looked up. “Beating up that guy, of course?” It was a bit more of a question than a statement. The question had rattled her. There was so much to be sorry for though. The beating, losing her temper at all, making Regina worry that night already, not doing so great in classes lately, clinging to Snow, making her team suffer… oh, wait. “Also for not calling… I guess…”

The board said that her mother, Anita, would be notified of this by mail. That was her home address, her contact, but maybe this was why Eva was here. The Blanchards had always cared, but now she was in college, she wasn’t a kid anymore, she had to do these things by herself. But maybe, just maybe they should have called. “I shouldn’t have put this on Snow alone… she should’ve talked to you…”

“Ruby, no.” Eva got up and sat down on the bed, gesturing Ruby to scoot over next to her. “Sure, I’m disappointed-”

The word stung and Ruby interjected immediately. “I’m sorry. I messed up, but I promise Snow wasn’t even there and I won’t-”

“Stop!” Eva took Ruby’s hands, now seeing the bruises already turning yellow, showing the passage of time already. “I am disappointed you didn’t call. And I’m glad to hear Mary wasn’t involved, but I wanted to know anyway. Because of you. I care about you. And this is serious. I know…” She paused and slowed down, knowing the next thing would hurt, but after all these years, Eva needed to say it out loud. “I know your mom doesn’t take good care of you, I know you feel like she doesn’t care at all and I honestly don’t know if she does. But I do. I am not your mother, but I care.”

The dam broke and Ruby started to cry. Eva took her into her arms and immediately Ruby clung to her. It was weird that Eva had seen the aftermath of Ruby crying quite a few times over the years, but rarely had she shed tears in front of her. Maybe Eva should have made her before, pushed her a little bit towards that to hammer it home that she cared and that she would be there for her. Just the same she had hugged Mary Margaret after break-ups, over bruised knees, bad grades, and other bad news.

“I’m sorry for everything”, Ruby got out between sobs. Her tears stained Eva’s blouse already. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t want to hurt people… I swear I want to be good.”

There was more, but it was hard to decipher it all and Eva let her cry, rubbing circles on her back. Getting the full story would take time, that was for sure. All she could do now was to reassure Ruby. “I know you’re good, you just made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

Eva looked over Ruby’s shoulder and saw her pinboard. A few pictures were on it and she immediately recognized one taken the time she and Leopold had taken the girls to Six Flags. They had ridden all the rollercoasters until they were practically green in the face. It had also been the day she had seen Ruby at her most carefree. There was one photo of Ruby with her Grandmother, a woman Eva had met only once. Anita was nowhere to be found on the wall.

A group shot looked nice. Eva recognized David from the pictures Mary Margaret had sent her, but couldn’t even guess who the others were. It was a bit sad living too far away to meet all these people, because she had made it a point to know Mary Margaret’s friends in school by face and name. Mulan, Belle, August, Robin, Jasmin, Anna, Aurora… so many names. She smiled at the picture in the corner that showed Ruby in her team uniform, helmet in hand. A candid shot, her elbow resting on the shoulder of another girl. Or maybe it was young woman now.

Eva turned a bit to catch a glimpse of Mary Margaret’s pinboard. Cluttered with far more pictures, flyers and notes. They shared a room, they had shared the most parts of their lives for the past 11 years and yet there still was such a noticeable difference.

Ruby started to calm down and when she let go, Eva leaned forward to get tissues out of her bag. “Can you tell me your version of the story now? All I know is that you were provoked and sent a boy to the hospital. The article said something about questionable self-defense.”

“There are no criminal charges,” Ruby said after blowing her nose. “He said something to my friend. Insulted her. And he wouldn’t stop, calling her… the c-word… and when he touched me, I lost it.”

“He was in the hospital,” she prompted.

“For a broken arm.” A pause. “A broken nose.” Ruby looked at Eva again. “He lost a tooth. And has some more bruises than I do. He was on the ground fast…”

Eva put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “I have no problem believing you would defend any of your friends like that. But you must have hit him pretty hard.” Ruby nodded, the shame was visible. “Tell me the truth. Has this happened before? Because what I can’t believe is that you would pound someone when he’s already down. Something else is going on and I want to know if that will happen again.”

Ruby pressed her palms against the mattress and slid away a bit. Eva could hear - and even see - her breathing pick up. This was almost all the confirmation she needed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Has it happened before, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Silence fell.

Eva closed her eyes. This was the thing she had feared. Because either Ruby had lost it very big time and the paper didn’t cover the big scoop behind it. Or something had been going on and she had been blind to it. And she needed to hear this from Ruby herself either way.

“When?”

“Back in high school… it was… at junior prom…”

Eva scrambled her brain. She remembered Mary Margaret having a date and giving her one more motherly talk about safe sex that had left her daughter bright red in the face. She also remembered that date bringing her home even before curfew and that Mary Margaret had been not very talkative that night. She had sworn nothing bad had happened with him and Eva only suspected that they’d had a stupid teen argument. There was nothing too remarkable about that. Had she seen Ruby the next day? She couldn’t recall.

While she was thinking, Ruby went on hesitantly. “This boy Peter had asked me out… from the hockey team… but it… it was all a prank… some of those guys wanted to like… set me up for a joke… and... “ She quickly glanced up and right back down again. “It wasn’t as bad, he had bruises and a swollen eye. Snow was there to stop me and we all agreed to not tell anyone. I apologized to him though. And it all… it was… like now… just more… it wasn’t just Whale being a dick to my friend, it’s… everything is so much sometimes and I explode.”

This was less surprising to hear than Eva cared to admit. “Have you ever hurt somebody with intention?”

Ruby shook her head. Her voice was broken. “One time… but only one time… I shoved Snow… I swear it was only once… I yelled at her and shoved her and the second I had done that… I apologized immediately and I never ever intended to hurt anybody.” She looked at Eva again. “Least of all her. I swear.” For this she held eye contact as long as she could.

Eva reached out touching her hand that was clenched around the edge of the mattress. “Thank you for being honest.”

There were a lot of details Eva wanted to know about, but this had been hard enough on Ruby. And now they had time to figure things out. But she had revealed a bright spot. “No criminal charges, you said?”

Ruby nodded. “The police seem very uninterested. And any civil things… well, I need to worry about what the board decides. My… friend said her family will keep things on the down-low.” She squirmed a bit.

“Who is this friend?”

“Regina Mills.”

“Mills? Oh.” Of all the people to get in a fight for, this was probably the luckiest choice. Although it didn’t sit right with Eva that there might be things going to circumvent what law dictated. But she also knew that worse people got away with far worse behavior and Ruby deserved to have one strike with minimal consequences. Even if this was technically her second. “I have looked up a few therapists in town already. I nee-”

“I’m seeing the campus therapist already. But I blew off a few appointments and I get that I shouldn’t.” Eva looked over at Mary Margaret’s bed at that. “Yes, Snow made me. She went with me the first time even.”

“What else are you girls keeping from me?” That came out more judgmental than she meant to. “I know you’re growing up, but you’re still kids to me. I always thought you knew you can come to me with problems.”

“Sorry.”

Eva scooted closer again and put her arm around Ruby’s shoulder. “Enough with the apologies. I know you’re a good kid. I remember you kept Mary from starting to smoke, so that’s something.”

“You know about that?” Ruby looked at her bewildered.

“I am a mom after all and some things I do pick up. You didn’t like it, because you’re an athlete, right?”

“Yeah, it’s super shitty for your lungs and I told her it was uncool.”

Eva laughed. “Wish that would work on Leo and his cigars. But thanks for that. I know you two look out for each other. But I will have to chew out my daughter for keeping a few too many secrets.” Ruby tensed up a bit. “What? Something else I need to know?”

“No…” She dragged the syllable out, dragging her toes over the floor.

“Ruby, I just said you can tell me. That is all I want from you, the truth. And we can work anything out from there.”

“But… what if…” She crossed her arms in front of chest, bracing herself. “What if… I’m not who you think I am?”

“You’re Ruby Lucas. You’re the best friend of my daughter, almost more like a sister. You worked your butt off to get here and you work hard to be the best version of you. I know you even send some of that money home you make at the gas station. Because you care so much about people you love, like your grandmother. I know you are a good person, even though you keep way too much inside. But we can work on that now.” She gave Ruby a kiss on the head, like she would with Mary Margaret. “What could be so bad about you?”

“I’m… I think… I’m gay.” Ruby breathed out that last word and was one tense muscle in Eva’s half embrace.

Eva looked at the pinboard again. The picture with Ruby smiling while leaning on the other girl. It clicked. On top of everything else, this secret had weighed Ruby down. She sure had enough reasons to be angry at the world already. This wasn’t something Eva had prepared for, so she just brought around her other arm to pull Ruby closer. “I want you to be happy and in love.” Finally she felt Ruby breathe in again.

((I just have to stop myself here. This could go on and on and on and on otherwise. Because I already know Eva is gonna take them out to dinner, insisting on meeting David. She gets a hotel room nearby. Of course Snow offers to let her sleep in the dorm but “Honey, that’s kind, but no. So much no to sleeping in a dorm bed.” And she freshens up a bit and passes a book store, where her eye is caught by a pride display and she gets a bracelet with a tiny rainbow flag, two actually, she wears one and gives the other to Ruby, because well, she doesn’t know exactly what to say, but this will definitely not make her think less of her!! Eva is the silent MVP of the story.))

[gaemkyuu]

I Can’t Keep Pretending (Charlie Gillespie x Original Character)

Warnings: mentions of cheating and sexual innuendos, but nothing explicit. A/N: Just a thought that came to mind when listening Back to December by Taylor Swift. Hopefully, you like it! Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

I can’t keep pretending (Charlie Gillespie x Original Character)

“Happy birthday-...Charlie?” 

“Cadence?”

Both people stood at Owen’s door, speechless and shocked to see one another. After a beat and a pause, the air grew uncomfortable and awkward as they stood there staring at each other.

“Charlie, who is it?” Owen called from the Kitchen, shaking Charlie out of his trance. He motioned for Cadence to enter the apartment, who rushed over to Owen and gave him a big hug.

“Cady! So good to see you!” Owen gave her a bone crushing hug and lifted her off her feet as he hugged her, something he enjoyed as she was quite short. “I thought you were leaving today!”

“I am! I was on my way to the airport and I wanted to stop by and give you your birthday gift” Cadence handed him a beautifully wrapped rectangle box, which Owen opened up eagerly. All the while, Charlie stood awkwardly in the background, never really straying far from the front door, watching the interaction between the two. “Figured that since you were going to start shooting for season 2, these would come in handy” Owen pulled out two drumsticks and flickered light when they made contact with each other.

“You are the bestest friend ever!” He gave her another bear hug, thanking her for the gift. 

“I thought I was your best friend?” Charlie pouted, something which Cadence softly rolled her eyes to.

Owen and Cadence had been friends since they were 5 years old, as she was the first friend Owen made when he moved back to America from Germany. The two went to school together and eventually were homeschooled together when Owen pursued acting and Cadence pursued figure skating and dance. Being next door neighbours helped build their friendship too. Even when Owen scored his first gig as Crispo, Cadence was offered a spot on the Junior Olympic team and had to move to LA. Their mothers loved the timing and the two friends couldn’t complain, but as they grew older, their careers would often take them to different places. Owen lived in between Oklahoma and California, while Cadence ended up living between California and Canada. Even though their careers were taking them in different directions, they always made time for one another.

That’s how Cadence met Charlie.

When Owen started filming Julie and the Phantoms, he often visited Cadence when she was free, since she was training in Vancouver at the time. Naturally, Cadence met the cast and they all became friends very quickly, which led them to spend a lot of time together. Her and Charlie naturally hit it off as she loved everything to do with skating and he loved hockey. The connection over the ice rink evolved into commonalities with favorite TV shows and soon everyone around them disappeared. Not that anyone minded! To be honest, everyone, including Owen, thought it was a matter of time before the two got together. Cadence was calm, poised and controlled, while Charlie was the opposite. They pulled out the best in each other and when they broke up, their friends mourned over the end of their relationship too. It didn’t help that it wasn’t a pretty break up either.

“You are my best friend Charlie, but you’re more like a bro, y’know?” Charlie smiled and Owen’s phone began to ring. “It’s my mom, let me take this call!” and without a thought disappeared into his room, leaving Cadence and Charlie alone.

“So, how have you been?” Cadence couldn’t handle awkward silences and she silently cursed Owen, knowing he knew how she felt about Charlie. “Working on any new projects?”

“Other than Julie and the Phantoms, nothing is coming up. But I did do a fun Netflix short film type thing, so there’s that” He sat down on one side of the couch and Cadence followed, sitting on the other side. She sat straight, hands in her lap, shoulders a little stiff. He sat hunched over, hands linked together, shoulders sagging. “How about you? Owen said you qualified for 2022 Winter Olympics” 

“Yeah, I did. Just training for that really.” another awkward pause, both people looking for something to say. “Are you excited to start filming?”

“Yeah. I mean it’s been a while and we’re excited to get on board, so there’s that...” Anyone could tell that Charlie was looking for some way to prolong his response so that there were no more empty spaces, but how could they so that since the last time they saw each other was when they broke up? Especially when it was something that people talked about for weeks...

***

Charlie drank way too much that night. A combination of work stress and missing Cadence had gotten to be a little too much, resulting in one too many drinks and a few poor judgement calls later. Some girl at the bar had wanted his attention and Charlie couldn’t help but think she looked a lot like Cadence. Next thing he knew, she was giving him hickeys and making out with him, something Charlie didn’t fight at the beginning. However, in the drunken haze, he had a moment of clarity where he pushed the girl off of him and walked home to clear his head. He would have to explain this to Cadence because he felt guilty about it, but he was sure she would understand. 

Charlie found out the fastest way to sober up that night and it involved Cadence standing in the living room with a box of Tim Horton’s donuts, looking confused, shocked and heartbroken. Charlie then became painfully aware of the hickeys decorating his neck and the fact that he was stumbling into his apartment at 2am didn’t help his case.

“Cadence? I thought you were in Vancouver for the rest of the week?” he saw her grip on the box of donuts tighten.

“I wanted to surprise you” her voice wavered, and she took careful deep breaths to stop the tears from falling. “Should I even ask?”

“Cadence I swear, it’s not what it looks like. I had a little too much to drink-”

“If it’s not what it looks like, then what is it Charlie?” he stood there speechless and stuttered to come up with an explanation. No matter what way Charlie tried to recount the events of the night, each version sounded worse than the previous version. “So you drank too much, saw a girl that looked like me, made out with her, even though you knew I was in Vancouver?”

Charlie couldn’t speak because she recounted the events of the nights exactly as they happened. He didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry Cadence”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it Charlie. I’ve been working my butt off and to come home to see you like this?! I knew being apart was hard on us, but if you wanted out of the relationship Charlie, I thought you would have the decency to break up with me and not cheat on me!” the tears spilled over and Charlie’s heart broke. He had never seen her cry and he hated being the reason for the first time that he did. She placed the box of donuts on the counter and picked up her duffle bag that she had brought with her. “I’m going to stay with Savannah. Don’t bother calling me when you’re sober”

***

“You guys, my mom is the sweetest! She dressed up Bindi in a birthday hat to sing happy birthday to me!” Owen walked back into the main living area, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them. 

“Hey O, I gotta head out and catch my flight back to LA. My driver’s out front waiting. I just wanted to stop by and wish you happy birthday” Cadence got up quickly walking to hug the man, who gave her a big hug in return. Charlie stood up as well, not sure what to do with his body. The two friends headed for the door and gave each other one last hug.

“Thank you for stopping by! Congratulations again on qualifying future Mrs. Mathias-Perez” Owen yelled down the hall smiling and closing the door. He turned to Charlie to discuss what the plans were for the evening, but stopped when he saw the look of shock, confusion and anger on his face. 

“She’s engaged? To that guy she’s been with for six months?” Charlie couldn’t figure out if he was mad or upset or both. Sure, it had been a year since they were together, but surely anyone would agree that six months was way too early for an engagement! “Owen, you don’t even like the guy! How could you let her get engaged?!”

“Charlie, she’s happy. For the first time in a long time, she is happy. I haven’t seen her this happy since she was with you. Sure, I may not like the guy, but she deserves to be happy. If he makes her happy then who am I to take that away from her?” Owen tried to empathize with Charlie, but knowing how the relationship went down and how he was a part of both peoples’ recovery process, he couldn’t take this away from her. “Plus, I thought you didn’t care anymore Charlie”

It was true. Charlie acted like he didn’t care that Cadence broke up with him and tried to be very nonchalant about it. For the most part, he kept up this facade, when in reality it was how he was coping. He didn’t want to admit that he messed up and was the one in the wrong, but he also knew there would be no one else like Cadence.

“I don’t. I just think it’s a little messed up, that’s all.” Charlie tried to shrug it off, hoping Owen would drop it. “Anyways Birthday Boy, what’s the plan?”

***

Owen knew that neither one of them were over each other. He knew that Cadence getting engaged was Cadence trying to fill the void to forget about Charlie. He sat with her in person or over the phone every time she cried about it. He knew how much she loved Charlie and when he broke her heart, Owen watched her as she tried to pick up the pieces. He was there for all of her sleepless nights where she would toss and turn and relive that night that she left Charlie’s apartment.

Owen was also there for Charlie. He knew that Charlie’s attitude was a self-defense mechanism to ward off any attention about how he truly felt about losing Cadence, but one night he got a little too drunk and confessed to his group of friends how he really felt. Charlie didn’t remember pouring his heart out to his friends, so they kept it quiet, choosing to remain friends with both of them, but respecting the fact that they didn’t want to see each other.

Their friends became hopeful three months after their relationship when they agreed to celebrate Savannah’s birthday as a big group. It was that night that Charlie and Cadence spoke for the first time about what happened, and while no one was there to hear the conversation. They agreed that the most they could be were simply friends, even though the feelings were still there. They didn’t talk to each other unless they saw each other at a mutual friend’s gathering, and even then it was never just the two of them. They said the odd occasional happy birthday on the group chat with friends, but never addressed each other via text or call. They kept the relationship very platonic and a ‘contact only when necessary’ method. 

One can imagine how surprised Charlie was when he received a fancy invitation inviting him to her engagement party. At first, Charlie felt like it was an attack, stating that she was happier without him, but then he realized that she really meant it when she said that she wanted to be friends. This is what friends do. They invite each other to celebrate monumental moments in their lives with them. Yet Charlie felt his stomach dropped as the engagement really sank in. Cadence was moving on and he missed his chance.

He really debated as to whether or not he would go, but Owen finally convinced him that he had to go or else he would confirm everyone’s suspicion that he still loved Cadence and that he was bitter that she was moving on. No matter which way he looked at it, his absence would be felt among his friends and Cadence. Therefore, he put on his best semi-formal attire and headed to the event in Malibu with Owen. He was grateful that his other friends were there as it eased the tension a bit and helped distract him from only thinking about Cadence. However, he couldn’t stop himself from being concerned when Cadence’s husband-to-be pulled Owen aside to whisper in his ear. The look on Owen’s face meant something was up and Charlie couldn’t help but sneakily follow him. Charlie hid around the corner and peaked at his friend who was knocking urgently on the door.

“Cady, open up, it’s Owen!” he kept knocking at the door but no one answered. “Cady come on, I can hear you crying in there. Let me in” again no answer, causing Owen to sigh in frustration. He saw Owen exchange some quiet words with her fiancé, who nodded as both of them walked away, Charlie quickly hiding himself, in hopes that he wouldn’t be seen. He couldn’t tell you why he followed them, or why he walked up to the door after they had left, or why he softly knocked, but Cadence opened the door at his knock not expecting to see him. Before she could protest or ask him anything, he gently pushed her back into the room and shut the door behind him, locking it again.

“What are you doing here?” she sniffled, turning to the mirror dabbing her eyes. This was the second time he saw her cry.

“I should be asking you that question” she scoffed at his remark and felt the tears spilling over again. Charlie didn't say a single thing and sat down on the love seat. Looking around the room, he could tell it was just a small powder room for the guests to use for some quiet time or for a mother to nurse. He watched as Cadence paced the room wiping her tears, waiting patiently for her to speak and desperately trying to come up with what to do. “Y’alright?”

“I’m totally fine!!!” she yelled at him exasperatedly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you” he chuckled at her apology

“It’s fine. I deserve it” this caused a small smile to appear on her face. “Wanna talk about it?” At first she shook her head and paced around the room some more, but finally caved. She plopped down beside him on the love seat, head in her hands.

“I have the most wonderful fiancé who has been there for me and who has made me feel happy again. I should be the happiest person in the world, but I’m not. Girls would kill to have him as a husband and here I am feeling like I am making the biggest mistake of my life.” she sniffed some more and Charlie passed her a Kleenex.

“Why’s that?” he inched closer to her and started rubbing her back. It was something he did when he knew she was upset because it brought her comfort. Apparently this was something he shouldn’t have done because Cadence shot up from the couch and stomped away from him.

“Because I still love you!” she turned around and faced him, tears falling down her face. “I don’t understand why! You made out with another girl at a bar drunk because you missed me! I should be mad at you and I should think that you’re the scum of the earth! Yet, I continue to be friends with you and see you around with our friends, and I have to keep pretending like I don’t think of you! I have to pretend that I don’t miss you anymore! Wishing that you asked me to marry me and not him!” she slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the phrase left her mouth. “I didn’t mean that... I’m not thinking straight... I’m just stressed and under a lot of pressure” Charlie was sure she was saying this to herself, making it even more obvious that she was not confident about going through with the engagement.

 “Cady take a deep breath. You’re going to trigger a panic attack at this rate” she followed his orders and sat back down beside him. He wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her arm in hopes to soothe her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, the silence filling the room once again.

“Do you still love me?” The desperation in her voice was unlike anything Charlie had ever heard from her. It was as if she was begging to hear the answer. He opened and closed his mouth several times, thinking about what he wanted to say, ultimately settling for the truth. 

“I never stopped. I’ve regretted every moment.” The two sat there in silence, letting his answer sink in. “I can’t ask you to forgive me because I don’t deserve it. I can’t ask you to be with me because I know how much I hurt you. I have debated over and over about whether or not I should try to convince you to give me another chance, but Owen was right. He was able to make you happy again after I crushed you. Who was I to stop you from moving on?” 

The door suddenly opened and in the doorway stood Owen and Cadence’s fiancé a little out of breath, but holding the key to the room. A look of shock and happiness crossed Owen’s face, but confusion and hurt crossed her fiancé’s face. Both of them rose quickly, Cadence wiping away her tears and fixing her dress, Charlie taking one big step away from her.  

“Hi Darling. Charlie was looking for the bathroom and ran into me in the hallway. I was just feeling overwhelmed, but he was able to talk me down from an anxiety attack.” Cadence knew that was the stupidest excuse for what just happened, but Charlie took that as a cue to leave, Owen following suit, leaving the two to discuss in private. 

“You alright man?” Owen asked patting Charlie on the back.  

“Yeah. Uh, I think I need to head home. Pretty sure her fiancé doesn’t want me here any more. Cover for me? I don’t want to cause a scene” Owen nodded understandingly. He could tell that more transpired between Cadence and Charlie than what they were letting off.  

Charlie drove home, knowing that Owen could easily catch a ride with one of their other friends. He drove from Malibu to LA with the windows down blasting music, lost in his own thoughts. He would give anything to have a second chance with Cadence, but he knew that sometimes you mess up so badly, that you don’t deserve that second chance. He couldn’t blame her for the choices she made that night. When his ex girlfriend, before Cadence, cheated on him, it took him a whole year before he started considering liking someone, let alone dating them. Heck, he wouldn’t be surprised if Cadence hated him for the rest of her life. Yet she confessed to still loving him and wanting to be with him, something Charlie wanted so badly. Pulling into his parking space, he lowered down the music and shut off his vehicle, the silence on the way to the door a little too much for him. He quickly got ready for bed, something he thought of as pointless because he knew he would lie there all night thinking about what Cadence said. 

What if he begged for her back?

What if they got back together?

What if he proposed to her? 

As he lay in his bed, he put on some music, hoping that the melodies would help ease his mind. This was something he always did when he felt overwhelmed. He would put on some music, close his eyes and just listen. Charlie didn’t know how much time passed as he was lost in his thoughts, but a sudden pounding at the door jolted him out of bed. Startled and a little frazzled, he took a moment to compose himself, wondering if he was hearing things or if there was someone banging on his door. His question was soon answered when the banging occurred again. Throwing on some pants, he rushed to the front door, confused as who might be banging. He glanced at the clock by the front door quickly before answering it: 12am.  

Cadence stood there for a brief second before hugging him tightly and confessing. “I couldn’t do it Charlie. I couldn’t marry someone when I’m still in love with you. I’m still pissed that you hurt me and I haven’t completely forgiven you, but I can’t be without you. I can’t be with anyone except you” Charlie held her in his arms tightly, as if this was a dream. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I put you through. Be mad at me, do whatever you want to me. Just please give me a chance to make this right” he pleaded and she held him tighter. “Will you give me one more shot?” he pulled away to look her in the eyes and the next second her lips were on Charlie’s, who gladly kissed her back. He took a few steps back and she kicked the door close with her foot, their lips never leaving each others. Their kiss was filled with so many emotions. It was as if it said “I’m sorry”, “I forgive you”, “I’m still mad at you”, “I miss you”, and “I still love you” all in one go. As they slowly separated and stared deep into each other’s eyes, the silence actually felt like it belonged. The buzz of their phones distracted them and they broke the kiss. Rolling their eyes at the text and making eye contact affirmed that they had gotten the same text. Charlie placed his and her phone on the counter, kissing her again passionately, and dragging her back into his bedroom. They had a lot that they needed to work out.

‘I told you so’ -Owen

[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 1

Word Count: 3,332

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW

Notes: So here we go with this new story that’s been stuck in my head and finally worked it’s way onto here. Please see the Masterlist for the synopsis. The first two parts should really be one, but I broke it into 2 because well sometimes I don’t have time to read long fics and then I lose my place, so I tried to make this a bit easier for anyone else that has this problem. So, Part 2 is coming out tonight as well. As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Happy Reading!

You sat there staring at the piece of paper in your hand, debating back in forth in your mind about what you wanted to do. This was your dream offer, just not in your dream city. In fact, if you were being honest this was the last place you saw yourself moving, but could you or would you turn it down because of him. He’d dictated most of your high school life, and some of college, to give him that kind of power over your career now would be so stupid. Especially, when you literally hadn’t seen him in almost twelve years. He probably wouldn’t even remember you, but there was no way that you could ever forget Jamie Benn.

 It was your freshman year in high school when you’d met him. He was slightly older and had just come to your secondary school to play hockey. Jamie was quiet, which seemed kind of funny for a jock. They were always loud and boisterous, but maybe you were just going by the ones in your family. By default, he was thrown in with all the other hockey players and one so happened to be your older brother, who was also friends with Jamie’s brother Jordie. The three of them ended up being thick as thieves and drove you half insane at times. Well, maybe not Jamie. When he was at your house the two of you always ended up having some random conversation about god only knew what, but it was always entertaining. You easily got a crush on him after about the seventh or eighth time you were around him but kept that to yourself. Oh, it wasn’t like you weren’t pretty or anything. It was the opposite really. Cheerleader, as well as on the track team; you were one of the more popular freshmen in school, but you were also terribly shy and inexperienced when it came to boys. You always felt, well, awkward around them, not knowing if you would say the right thing or do something embarrassing. With Jamie though, it was different. He made you feel so at ease, but then maybe part of that was because he shared the same awkwardness that you did.

 You distinctly remember one night early your sophomore year, when your brother, Justin, and Jordie decided to take both you and Jamie to a party. They practically had the school slut, throwing herself at Jamie, but it was clear the boy had no clue what to do, as his hands awkwardly fumbled her advances. Which was fine with the jealous streak that suddenly went through your entire body. She attempted to kiss him, and with all eyes focused on him, he went to return it, only to completely miss her and end up bonking her on the head. In end, he’d laughed things off saying he was too drunk, but you knew that he’d only had one beer. He somehow slipped out of the cabin you’d been partying at, and back to the woods, after the incident. Of course, you’d followed him. “Hey Jame, you ok?” He simply shrugged as you sat down on the log beside him. “Justin and Jordie can be dickheads sometimes, you know?”

 “Tell me about it.”

 “I’m sure you’re a better kisser.” Oh my god, did those words really leave your mouth? Fuck. “I mean…like…” Jamie just sort of smiled over at you as you stumbled through words that seemed to be regurgitating out of your mouth. 

 “Maybe,” he finally said, staring off into the woods, then very quietly added. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

 You had to strain your ears to catch that last part, but you were definitely sure he said he’d never had a first kiss. “Oh,” you answered softly, with a hint of surprise in your voice, though inside you were giddy. Somehow, you’d just assumed that someone like Jamie, who was athletic and good looking had definitely been kissed before. It was surprising that he admitted it to you, and before you knew what was happening that same word vomit from before was making an appearance. “Me either.”

 “Really?” His question came almost as soon as you spit out the words. Why he found that hard to believe was beyond you.

 “Yes really.”

 “I just thought….well…” This time it was Jamie stumbling through a sentence instead of you. “I know that you and David have been hanging out a lot.” 

 “David?” While it was true, you’d been hanging out with one of the school’s top soccer players, it was for a completely different reason then stolen kisses. “I’m tutoring him in biology. If he fails, he’s off the team.” The words fell from your lips before you had time to fully think them through. “Please don’t say anything. He doesn’t want anyone to know.”

 “I won’t,” Jamie told you and you knew that you could trust him with this or any secret that you had. He turned toward you then, his eyes locking with yours. “I’m glad you’re only tutoring him.”

 “Oh, why? He seems like a nice guy or have you heard different…” you trailed off not quite sure of what or why you were even asking.

 “Oh, he seems nice. I don’t really know him.” Jamie ran his fingers through his hair then. A telltale sign he was searching for the right words. “I mean…I’m glad you’re not dating him, you know…because…well I thought….” He blew out a breath and you held yours. “Maybe you’d want to date me.” Goose pimples rose on your flesh at his words. This was the moment you dreamed about, and now, here it finally was. When you didn’t answer right away Jamie added, “That is…did you want to go on a date?”

 The corners of your lips pulled up into a smile and Jamie’s did as well. “I’d like that.”

 “Me too.” He adjusted himself so that he was sitting closer to you on the log you shared. Now only an inch or two separated the two of you as he hesitantly made a move to hold your hand. It hovered just above yours for a few seconds, both of your eyes shifting down to watch as he finally clasped your hands together, and then you were both shared a stupid grin. “Can I…kiss you?”

 You were speechless at all that had transpired in the last couple of moments, and so you just nodded, both excited and afraid to share your first kiss with Jamie. You moved in closer, while Jamie did the same. Your eyes slowly going shut as your lips drew near. Jamie’s lips ghosted over yours, just barely a brush against your skin as first, but then he added a bit more pressure and it was both awkward and wonderful at the same time. You both stayed that way for several heartbeats neither of you moving, both unsure what the next move was. His free hand, the one that wasn’t tightly laced with yours, came up to caress your cheeks, and then your lips were moving together and it was one kiss simply melting into a million more. Unconsciously, you sighed. Your lips parting open for him and his tongue darted into your mouth. Eyes flying open at the contact, you weren’t sure how to react. Of course, you knew what a French kiss was, had seen it on television a million times, but to experience it was quite different. You realized you could taste the beer he’d drunk earlier and something else, though you couldn’t put your finger on it. Tentatively, you let your tongue mingle with his, letting your eyes flutter shut once again so you could savor the feel of this kiss; your first kiss with Jamie Benn. 

 It was one of many that you shared with Jamie over the next few months. He took you out on several dates, mostly to the movies or to the little pizza shop you both loved, but most nights were either spent on your couch or his, where you’d watch hockey and then makeout until it was time for curfew. Your relationship progressed about as much as any fifteen going on sixteen-year-olds did; there was a lot of holding hands and quiet kisses. On night’s that one of your parents would go out and leave you both alone, it definitely went from first to second base rather quickly, and you learned that Jamie was definitely a boob man. He became an expert at unclasp your bra in record time, of course, there was a learning curve that involved a lot of fumbling around. 

 It was Jamie’s birthday, that you decided to give him a present he’d never forget. For the life of you at the age of fifteen, you couldn’t figure out why it was called a blowjob when you were definitely supposed to suck on his cock. Thankfully, you’d seen enough of your brother’s porn stash to know how to give a proper one and not look completely stupid. Though you didn’t expect to gag when Jamie thrust his hips into your face uncontrollably. At least you recovered quickly and were able to swallow most of his cum when it shot down the back of your throat. It was two weeks later that he finally reciprocated, by going down on you in the backseat of his car. While not the most romantic place in the world, his tongue flicking across your clit made up for the cliché atmosphere. 

 By the end of summer, you’d rounded all the bases but hadn’t hit a home run yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to sleep with Jamie; it was the exact opposite. However, there just wasn’t a time or place for the deed to get done. The two of you had discussed and decided that you wanted to make it special and not just make it some little box that you could check off in your relationship. This would be the first time for both of you, so while it was going to be memorable, you also wanted to savor it. As neither of you were eighteen yet, it wasn’t like you could go and get a hotel, for you’d thought about that option, and you’d already ruled at the car. With limited options in Victoria, you had no choice but to travel to your parents' second house on the outskirts of Vancouver. It was rarely used, as your dad only stayed there on business trips which had become less frequent over the last couple of years. Even though the house was rarely occupied, you came up with an elaborate plan for your parents to let you not only stay there overnight but travel there by yourself. Well, technically it wasn’t by yourself as you said you were going with your best friend Emma. Who covered for you, god love her.

 You weren’t sure what excuse Jamie had told his parents, but he picked you up at Emma’s house one Saturday morning and the two of you made the trip in less than three hours. It was a nerve-wracking drive, though Jamie held your hand most of the time. It wasn’t really the thought of having sex with Jamie that made you uneasy. It was the thought of having sex period. You were afraid it was going to hurt, but you kept trying to push past that thought, knowing that you wanted to do this, more so that you wanted to do this with Jamie. 

 It was awkward, just like all your firsts with Jamie were, but eventually, you two were able to move past that, and in the end, it was actually kind of amazing. Though the most wonderful part had to be falling asleep in Jamie’s arms. He’d made you felt so loved and cherished, and you’d known right then and there that you’d made the right decision to give you virginity away to this man. It felt like the two of you would be together forever.

 That was until the following Tuesday at school came around. There were stares and whispers everywhere you looked, or so it seemed. It wasn’t until lunchtime, that you finally found out what was going on, and then it was only from Emma. “Em, what is going on with everyone? I feel like half these guys are staring at me.”

 She closed her eyes as if mustering up the courage to tell you something she didn’t want to. “Jamie told everyone that you two slept together.” You gasped, then quickly covered up both your mouth and the hurt that came along with it. “That’s not the worst of it,” Emma said and it felt like your heart just sank into your stomach. “I also heard that he told people you two have been fucking for months.” There were so many ‘whys’ and ‘how could he’ running around in your head you couldn’t make heads or tails of them. Jamie wouldn’t do this, there had to be some explanation. Your eyes scanned the cafeteria looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. You were just about to get up and look for him when Emma’s hand came down on yours. “There’s more. He said the only reason he was dating you was because you were easy.” Bile rose in the back of your throat and you wanted to just run to the girls' bathroom and cry, but Emma stopped you. “Don’t,” she said simply. “If you go, it will just feed more gossip. Act like nothing is wrong and that nothing happened. Like you don’t care.” Easy for her to say when it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest along with your reputation. “Breathe.” You hadn’t realized you’d stopped until she said the word. 

 The rest of the day was a complete blur. You couldn’t find Jamie anywhere. As soon as you could make it home after practice, you were dialing his number. His mom answered, “I’m sorry (Y/N), Jamie’s not feeling well. I’ll have him call you when he’s feeling better.” The next day passed and still the lingering stares, mostly from the guys, continued. You’d even had a few ask you out, to which you simply rolled your eyes and told them it would only happen in their dreams. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say and just added fuel to the fire, making it seem like everything that Jamie had said true. He avoided you yet another day and you were beginning to wonder if he was going to pretend to be sick the entire school year just so he didn’t have to face you. By the third day that you hadn’t heard from him, you knew it was done. No matter what excuse he could give you, it would never make up for not only what he said but the way he’d treated you afterward. You simply needed to move on. So, when you saw him at school the following day, you completely ignored him. He attempted to talk to you several times, but you weren’t having it. “Come on (Y/N), please just talk to me.”

 “I think you’ve done enough talking for the both of us Jamie. We’re through.” There was hurt in his eyes and you wanted to break down and cry right then and there, but you held your head up high and continued down the hall to your next class. It was two periods later that Emma was handing you a note. You unfolded it, seeing Jamie’s writing on the top.

 (Y/N),

I’m sorry. Please let me explain….

 That’s all you read before tearing the letter up and tossing it in the garbage can in front of Jamie, hoping he would get the point and leave you alone. He didn’t. As soon as you walked in the door of your house, your mom told you he’d called three times already. After explaining that the two of you broke up, and crying on your mom’s shoulder for a half-hour, though not mentioning the details of your breakup; she told Jamie not to call back when the phone rang again. Ever persistent, Jamie came banging on the door after dinner. This time it was your dad that told him he wasn’t wanted in your home, even though Jamie was practically begging him to let you in, while you sobbed in the background. He kept up the same routine over the next week, all with the same result until eventually, he gave up.

 Over the next two weeks, you could hear the whispers as you walked down the hall. Girls muttering that you were slut, while the boys were trying to figure out which one of them would get to sample you next; now that it was clear you were no longer with Jamie. The icing on the cake was when David, the soccer player you’d been tutoring told everyone that you hadn’t been studying at all; that he’d been sleeping with you for the last month. No matter how many times you said it was a lie, no one believed you. Your reputation was simply shredded apart all by a few words Jamie had uttered. So, after a couple months of being talked about, there was only one thing left to do, and that was to become that girl that they whispered about. If they were going to condemn you, you might as well earn it.

 Your junior and senior year, you became the girl that gave the star point guard a blow job behind the bleachers after the game, as well as giving one to the goalie, the wide receiver, and the captain of the debate team, and a few more as well. Jamie seemed to take out his aggression on the ice, dropping the gloves with opponents left and right, but you tried to pay him no mind. Until he finally went to play for the Grizzlies and you didn’t have to see him all the time. By then end of high school, you truly had earned the reputation that he’d given you, but you were sick of it. Tired of being looked at for only sex, you applied to schools in the US. Thankfully, while you’d jumping from penis to penis, you’d still kept up your studies and were accepted at every school you’d applied to. 

 When you received your acceptance letter from Georgetown, along with a scholarship, you jumped at the chance to put yourself all the way across the continent from not only Jamie but what you’d become. At University, you put your head to the books instead of on some unknown guy’s cock, studying constantly which earned you a 4.0 in undergrad, and basically allowed you have your pick at the top medical schools in both Canada and the United States. It was a no brainer when John Hopkins wanted you and during your time there, you were able to work with not only the Baltimore Ravens but the Orioles as well, all within your first year. Which had you taking up orthopedics and sports medicine as your specialty. 

 All of this led you to today and the offer you were currently mulling over. It was literally everything you’d ever wanted and allowed you to work with not only the NFL but the NBA and the NHL as well. It was the last one that had you rethinking it though. The pros well outweighed the only one con that you could think of and that was Jamie Benn. Who’s to say if he’d even remember you though? It wasn’t like you could forget him after what he’d done, but you let him dictate enough of your life; you weren’t about to let him continue. So, you typed up your written acceptance, then called Dr. Ellis to let him know you were taking the job. You’d made a new reputation for yourself this time around and you weren’t about to let Jamie Benn ruin this one. 

[blingywitch]

Good Feelings - Chapter IV

Hi :) sorry it’s been a literal month since the last chapter of this. School has been a mess and I suffered from some really bad writers block for a while. It all good tho cuz chapter IV is here! :))

Full Masterlist & Good Feelings Masterlist

Characters belong to the lovely, @lumosinlove

CW: food and drink

Surprising absolutely no one, Logan and Natalie had become inseparable. You’d think that they’d be a horrible match, seeing as they're two completely different people when it comes to personality but as they had learned, the two had a lot of things in common.

Their friendship had actually become quite personal very fast. It startled Logan at first, how he felt so completely comfortable around this girl who he had known for all of a week, but that’s how Natalie was. She was so open and accepting that Logan felt like he could tell her anything and everything about himself without being thought of differently. She helped keep his mind off things, was someone who he could call anytime of the day or night without any complaints; serious problem or not, Natalie was always down to talk. She had quickly become an escape for Logan; a distraction. Whether it be from the stress of work or from two boys who he hadn’t seen in close to two weeks.

Today’s distraction you may ask? A team dinner. Whatever that was.

“C’mon Logan, Please?!” Natalie drawled while pouring creamer into someone's cappuccino. “It’s just one night and everybody just got back. I wanna introduce you to my friends.”

“I don’t know, maybe.” Logan answered. Sure, meeting Natalie’s friends sounded fun but he didn’t want to just show up to, from how Natalie described it, what sounded like a family event. He didn’t know these people and these people didn’t know him, Logan didn’t like being the outsider. “Am I even invited?” He asked.

Natalie scoffed, “Of course you are, anybody is welcome. Plus,” she smiled at him. “I just invited you.”

Logan said nothing, only cast his eyes down to the floor.

“Lo,” Natalie set down the cup she was holding and walked over to Logan, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “If you really don’t want to go you don’t have to, but it’ll be fun and you’ve been down lately, I can tell.”

Natalie always knew what to say didn’t she?

“Fine.” He looked up at her, smiling slightly.

The smile that took over Nat’s face was blinding. “Yay! I can’t wait for you to meet everyone!” She brought Logan into a quick hug and pulled away, holding him at arms length. “Kase and I will be at yours by seven to pick you up, be ready!” And with that she spun around, picked up the cappuccino and left the kitchen, leaving Logan chuckling after her.

—

The car door slammed behind him as Logan sat in the back seat of Natalie’s car. “Hi, Lo!” Natalie greeted him through the rear view mirror. “You excited?”

“I guess you could say that, yeah.” Logan replied.

“Don’t worry,” Logan looked to the driver’s seat where someone had spoken up. “The team is always up for new members, I’m sure you’ll fit in great.” He turned in his seat and smiled at Logan. “Kasey Winter.”

This was Logan’s first time meeting Kasey. He knew of him of course. Natalie had mentioned him a couple times, her eyes lighting up every time his name was on her lips. From what he remembered, Kasey Winter was Natalie’s best friend— first love. Logan would have to get to know him, because he had a feeling he’ll probably be around a lot.

“Logan,” Logan looked down to buckle his seatbelt. “Tremblay.”

Kasey looked like he thought about something for a few seconds before smirking. “Nice to meet you, Tremzy.”

“Tremzy?” Logan furrowed his eyebrow and looked between Kasey and Natalie, confusion etched onto his face.

Natalie shook her head. “You’ve known him for a whole two minutes and you’ve already given him a hockey nickname?”

Kasey looked towards Natalie and shrugged. He started to say something, along the lines of, “What? It’s mandatory.” But Logan didn’t catch the rest of it before his thoughts took over. That’s right, another thing Natalie had mentioned about Kasey was that he was a professional hockey player. He was a little confused at learning this, thinking he’d heard that before. In fact, he had, and when he figured it out— who else had told him they were professional hockey players— the only thing he could think was, what are the chances? Now, the chances were seemingly getting slimmer by the second and everything was clicking into place. The team dinner. Would Logan run into them? Suddenly he found himself hoping that maybe the city of Gryffindor had two professional hockey teams.

—

“Blizzard!” Logan whipped his head around at the loud greeting, walking out of the porch and into the house Natalie and Kasey had brought him to— huge house might he add. If he knew hockey salaries payed this well.... “Bilzz,” the voice said again, passing all three of them by doorway and clapping Kasey on the back. “‘Bout time you got here. Nat.” He greeted, nodding at her. His eyes landed on Logan and he smiled bright. “A new face! James Potter, you?” The man—James—said, holding out his hand.

“Logan Tremblay.”

“Nice to meet you, Logan.” He started walking backwards into the living room. “Welcome to the team.” James winked horribly and turned around, sitting down on the couch and wrapping an arm around a girl who was laughing with some of the others, her red hair being twisted in the hands of a little boy sitting on her lap.

Kasey followed after him with a kiss to Natalie’s cheek and a pat to Logan’s back, he leaned up against the wall starting a conversation with one of his teammates. Because he didn’t look like he was going to, Natalie took the lead and led Logan into the living room where everyone else was chatting and laughing.

Logan took this opportunity to scan the room, no sign of blonde hair and brown eyes just yet. He hadn’t decided if that was good or bad.

—

Something Logan really wasn’t expecting when he got here was how friendly and calm the environment was. He wasn’t a huge hockey fan, he didn’t really know much about it. But from what he had seen over the years most hockey players weren’t the calm and collective type— and don’t get him wrong, these people were chaotic. But... in the best way. The chirps and jokes never had any malicious intent behind them, the room he was in was always filled with laughter; these people were more than just a team, they were a family. And maybe he already knew that coming in, but he never would have guessed it would be to this extent. They’d accepted Logan, a newcomer, who didn’t know a single thing about the sport of hockey and had only been in the state of Gryffindor a little more than a month. It didn’t matter who you were or where you came from, these people will take you in and make you one of their own; a lion.

He’d been ‘“Welcome to the team.”d’ more times than he could count and he was getting along well with everyone. He had taken a liking to Sirius— the team captain, he learnt. He had also learnt that Sirius was from Quebec as well, the two had quickly got to talking about everything and nothing in their native language and it made Logan happy to have someone to relate to like this who wasn’t his sisters. Pascal, or Dumo as the team called him, had introduced himself in French and he was pleasantly surprised when Logan answered back, completely unfazed and started a conversation up about his kid— Katie— who was resting on Dumo’s hip.

Natalie handed Logan a drink from where she returned from the kitchen. Kasey had joined them on the couch sometime earlier and Nat took a seat next to him, between him and Logan, handing him a drink as well just as someone said, “Nat, Kase, who’s your friend?” He walked over and sat on the arm of the couch next to Kasey. His name was Thomas from what Logan had heard, and he was yet to make a formal introduction to him.

“That would be my boss. Logan Tremblay.” Natalie joked, sending Logan a smirk.

Logan made a noise of disbelief and sat up straighter. “I am not your boss.” He exclaimed, incredulously.

“No, your sister is my boss.” Natalie corrected herself. “But you just as well may be too.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows and chuckled at her antics before putting his attention back on the man next to them. A small smile upon his face after Natalie and Logan’s interaction. “You're Thomas right?” Logan asked.

“That would be correct! Heart and soul of the Lions!” Thomas’ smile beamed with pride. “You can call me Talker though. Do you have a name, Logan?”

Logan chuckled nervously. “But... I just told you my name?”

Talker was about to respond but was interrupted by Kasey, who suddenly joined in on the conversation. “This,” he reached behind Natalie and patted Logan’s back. “Is Tremzy.” He smirked at talker.

“Tremzy, huh?”

Logan knew he wouldn’t have gotten this lucky. The three of them, Talker, Kasey, and Logan, looked over towards the new voice; low and behold, there stood a beaming Finn O’Hara with a slightly surprised looking Leo Knut at his side. The two with drinks in hand and looking as beautiful as always. They walked over, Finn sitting on the floor in front of the group, while Leo chose to squeeze between Natalie and Logan, draping an arm over his shoulders. “Hi.” The blonde smiled sweetly and lay his head against Logan’s.

Finn brought his knees up to his chest. “Fancy seeing you here.” He winked, actually winked, and brought his cup up to his lips. Logan tried his very hardest to fight back a blush.

Logan thought he was going to die on the spot. He had no idea where this new behaviour was coming from from Leo and Finn but he definitely wasn’t complaining.

“What brings you here?” Finn asked, tone still teasing.

“I came here with Natalie and Kasey, if you’re asking.” Logan teased back.

“Oh,” Finn said. “And how do you guys know each other?”

“Well, Natalie and I work together.”

The redhead’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh?” He repeated, then looked towards Natalie. “Since when?”

“Finn, she literally told us that she got the job before we left for Florida.” Leo joined in.

“Oh yeah.” Finn drawled. “Forgot about that.”

“Speaking of,” Leo looked towards Natalie, about to ask how the job is, but before he did he burst out laughing. “What’s that look for?”

The look on Natalie’s face was priceless. It was a mix of horror and confusion, her eyebrows raised, eyes flickering between the three of them like she had just seen a ghost. “You okay, Nat?” Logan asked trying to hold back a smile and failing.

“I- I’m just confused on how you three are talking to each other like you’re best friends.” She answered. “Are you best friends?! And how come I never knew?!” She shot towards Logan.

“I wouldn’t say best friend-” Finn was shushed by Natalie’s finger, who was still looking at Logan expectantly.

Logan laughed. “They’re regulars of ours.” He said, referring to Finn and Leo’s daily coffee visits. “You just didn’t that because the entire time you’ve been working here they were in... Florida you said?” Logan asked Leo, who nodded. “Florida.” Logan explained, still laughing at how utterly confused Natalie looked.

“Oh.” Said Natalie, voice small. She put the pieces together finally. “Oh, yeah that makes sense.” They all just laughed the weird coincidence off and that was the end of it.

—

Not long after that Celeste came into the living room announcing that dinner was ready; they had all migrated to the kitchen, chatting and eating. Celeste Dumais’ cooking had been the best Logan's had in a while. One of the biggest things he missed about being home was his mother’s cooking and no matter how hard he and his sisters tried replicating Iva Tremblay’s home cooked meals was something they could not achieve. So to have this same sense of home was something he enjoyed every once in a while. 

After dinner most of the team started to clear out. With Lily and James leaving with a sleeping Harry that left only the Dumais family, Remus and Sirius, Natalie, Kasey, Leo, Finn and Logan. It was comfortable, everybody had started their own small conversations amongst themselves, Sirius had switched on the radio in the kitchen, the soft music flowing out into the living room. Leo, Finn and Logan were sat on the floor in front of the couch, Leo leaning against it, fingers carding through the redhead’s hair who was lid down with his head in Leo’s lap. Logan was sat next to them, shoulder to shoulder with Leo. They’d had a couple short lived conversations but now they were just sitting in silence and content to do so. That was until Finn got up.

“Where you going?” Leo asked, shivering ever so slightly now that the warmth of his boyfriend was gone.

Standing up, Finn took his cup off the coffee table and held it out, “Refill.” he answered. “You coming?” 

Leo got up without hesitation, already following Finn into the kitchen. He turned around, looking at Logan and raising a questing eyebrow. Logan knew what he was asking and got up as well, Leo waited for him and then they walked into the kitchen together. 

Finn was at the counter pouring himself a drink when they walked in, he turned around upon seeing them. “Can I get you something, Peanut?”

Logan just about melted at Finn’s nickname for his boyfriend. He’d have to learn the meaning behind it. It was moments like these where Logan realized he knew barely anything about these two boys. He wanted to know things about them, he wanted to know everything about them. Everything from their favourite colours to their middle names. Hell, he didn't even know their last names. He wondered if he’d ever get to know these details and when. He hoped it was soon. 

“No, i’m okay. Thanks.” Leo shook his head.

“Lo?” 

Logan snapped out of his thoughts at Finn’s voice directed at him. “Quoi?” 

“Can I get you anything?” Finn repeated.

“Oh. Um yeah, a coke?”

Finn screwed up his face but got Logan his drink anyways. “Here,” he said, handing it to Logan. “have your disgusting cup of sugar.”

Logan scoffed, “Says the person who drinks black coffee!”

“There is nothing wrong with the way I drink my coffee.” Finn pointed his finger at him.

“Whatever.” Logan rolled his eyes playfully and the look that crossed Finn’s face had Leo chuckling. 

“You know, Lo...” Leo started after some time had passed. “Last time we saw each other you said something about having to talk about something, our career was it?"

“I did say that I think.” Logan had forgotten about that.

“Yeah, I think we should talk about that.” Finn joined in. “But its getting kind of late and Le and I will be leaving soon.” And for the millionth time that night Finn smirked at him, “How about tomorrow? Maybe... over a coffee?”

Logan smiled, making the decision before he thought about it to much. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

[hslllot]

Part I. Draft Day

fic masterlist | rated: m, mature | word count: 4.6k content/warning: hockey harry, nosey family members, a very brief mention of anxiety, overzealous hockey stans. 

DRAFT REPORT: The 411 on Harry Styles by John Michaelson for Sportsnet

There’s this kid named Harry Styles. He plays hockey. Ever heard of him? 

At this point there’s not much else to be said about the british Fighting Hawks’ centre, a lock to be the No.1 pick in the 2015 NHL Draft. 

Dubbed a generational talent, Styles’ abilities are at a level typically only seen in video games. We all know the Edmonton Oilers will select him with the first overall pick on June 26. In years to come, hockey fans from around the globe (but especially Oilers fans) will be on the edge of their seats, watching to see if the phenom can develop into a future Hockey Hall of Fame talent the way Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux did. 

Here’s what you need to know about Harry Styles: 

Age on June 26: 19 Birthplace: Redditch, Worcestershire, England Current team: University of North Dakota Fighting Hawks  Position: Centre Shoots: Left Height: 6-foot Weight: 190 lbs NHL Central Scouting Rank (North American): 1st

Harry Styles is a franchise-changing player in every sense of the word. He looked like a pro player even before he flew across the pond at a young age to play in the Canadian Hockey League. This has been a long time coming but the future is finally here.

He is talented beyond his years and always has been… Styles has played against older competition his entire career. Growing up in the small village of Holmes Chapel in Cheshire, England, the options for minor hockey teams were limited. Styles struggled to find a team in his age group that matched his talent level and was forced to play with older kids - and even then his talent was unmatched. Like the two other players from the UK currently playing in the NHL, Styles eventually had to leave home and play junior hockey in Canada, where he still had to play up a year against Canadian kids that grew up in a country that eats, sleeps, and breathes the game. 

He should have been drafted 1st overall last year… Styles shocked the hockey world in 2013 when, instead of declaring for the 2014 NHL Draft, he announced he would be attending the University of North Dakota and lead the Fighting Hawks to an NCAA Championship. Styles, ever the media-trained athlete, dodged questions about why he chose to go to university for a year before joining the NHL, simply stating “University was always a part of the plan, no matter what happened with hockey.” The hockey community let out a collective sigh of relief when his agent, Jeffrey Azoff (whose father was, coincidentally, Wayne Gretzky’s agent), announced shortly after his championship win that after one year at UND, Styles would be declaring for the 2015 Draft. 

His trophy case is full... Harry Styles has won pretty much every individual hockey award he could possibly win in his career so far. During his CHL career with the Vancouver Giants he won Rookie of the Year, multiple MVP awards, the award for most goals, assists, and overall points, and scholastic player of the year. During his short-lived NCAA career with UND, he won Rookie of the Year, the Hobey Baker Award as the top men’s hockey player, and was named to the Academic All-American team. Unfortunately, Great Britain’s ice hockey team will not be qualifying for the Olympics or the World Championships any time soon, so unless Styles applies for Canadian citizenship, international trophies and medals will be difficult to come by. Regardless, I have a feeling that there will be many Stanley Cups in his future. 

He really hates underperforming… The kid puts a lot of pressure on himself. As we have seen with many successful athletes, an insatiable inner drive to compete can lead to greatness. Styles has that drive to be great and can be his own worst critic. “When I was growing up, my mum was worried about me because I was a bit of a perfectionist.” Styles told The Hockey News back in December. “When I had a bad game, I would get so upset about it. It’s just how I am and how I think every athlete should be. Good is never enough. It’s important to always keep learning and growing to better yourself.”

He is excited to play for the Oilers… Not that he would have anything bad to say about any of the 30 NHL teams, but the Oilers do hold a special place in Styles’ heart. “It’s a great hockey town with fans that are super passionate about the game.” He told The Hockey News. “They’ve been on a bit of a slide the last couple years but the team has a great history. Not many people watch the NHL where I’m from, but my dad was always interested in it and that’s how I got into the game. He was an Oilers fan during their dynasty years with Gretzky and Messier… So if they do end up drafting me first overall, I’ll feel honored to be a part of the team, and it’ll be a nice tribute to my dad.” 

Be sure to catch our live 2015 NHL Draft coverage on June 26 starting at 5pm EST/2pm PT only on Sportsnet.

“With the first overall pick in the 2015 NHL Entry Draft the Edmonton Oilers are proud to select, from Holmes Chapel in England, Harry Styles.”

The room erupted in loud cheers and applause as the Edmonton Oilers drafted the National Hockey League’s newest and most sought after commodity. 

Y/N’s closest friends and extended family roamed around her parents’ living room, congratulating one another with hugs and handshakes like one of their own family members was just drafted. That wasn’t the case though, they were all just deeply invested in the hockey team and the boy from England that was meant to turn things around after so many years of losing. They were so invested, in fact, that the family organized a gathering similar to something you might see on a holiday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas.

While it was not a normal holiday, for Y/N’s family it was just as significant. It was Draft Day. And every hockey fan in North America wanted Harry Styles to play for their team.

“That’s quite the suit, isn’t it?” Her uncle Will pointed to the television where the young man is dressed in an ornate red floral suit and black dress shirt. The suit was flashier than what most hockey players would wear, but it’s clear that Harry Styles is not like most hockey players. The camera panned to him as he stood up from his seat and hugged the two brunette women sitting next to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb among a sea of other young hockey players all dressed in variations of black and grey as they patiently waited to be drafted from the stands of the BB&T Centre in Florida. It was clear to Y/N that, much like his hockey skills, Harry Styles’ fashion sense was superior compared to his peers.

There was an air of excitement in the room as the draft party, all clad in blue and orange jerseys, watched the generational talent walk down the stairs of the arena and make his way to the stage. They collectively held their breath, the room becoming silent, when he arrived at the stage where both the owner and general manager of the team were waiting to greet him. Harry shook their hands before they handed him his own blue and orange jersey. As he slipped the jersey over his head and posed for a photograph with the executives, the silence in the room broke and excited conversations and speculations for the upcoming season continued. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a stir in her belly and a sense of anticipation for what the upcoming hockey season would bring. 

Her thoughts lingered on the man on the screen, wondering what it might be like to meet him, when her brother pulled her out of her reverie. “Can you believe you’ll be working with the Harry Styles?” 

No - she couldn’t quite believe it. 

In fact, everything happening in her life right now seemed a bit too good to be true.

Set to start her third year of university in September and having to complete mandatory practicum hours in order to graduate the following year, she somehow managed to secure a placement with her favourite hockey team. The Oilers were only taking three students from the university program and everyone in the program wanted one of those spots. 

The application process was incredibly stressful for Y/N. One telephone interview, one in-person interview, and a practical session where she had to demonstrate her athletic therapy skills to the team’s head trainer. She did well with the phone interview, given that they weren’t able to see her. She was able to look down at the talking points she wrote in her notebook and pause to take a couple deep breaths without making it obvious that she was reeling on the inside. Her anxiety got the best of her during the in-person interview though, freezing up when they asked simple questions like “why do you want to work for the team?” and “what experience do you have working with sport teams?”

She left the interview feeling embarrassed, but instead of taking the time to wallow and feel sorry for herself, she went home and spent hours upon hours taping her brothers’ ankles in preparation for the practical session the following day. There was no way she was going to let the opportunity fall through the cracks. Her dream of working for the Oilers was the whole reason she decided to go to school for athletic therapy in the first place. She was never any good at playing hockey but she knew in her heart that, someday, she would work for the team she loved so much. At the end of it all, she reckons her taping skills saved her, so she took her brother out to his favourite restaurant to thank him for letting her use his ankles for practice.

Fast forward a few months and she’s now stood in her parents living room thinking about how in three months she could be taping Harry Styles’ ankles.  

At the time of her application, no one knew the Oilers would be picking first in the draft. The aura around the team was a bit negative at the time (because of all the losing) and there were rumours circulating the city that some of the star players were rude to the support staff and liked to party a little too hard at The Ranch (which contributed to said losing). 

When she first decided to apply for the position her father warned her, “there’s a saying that you should never meet your heroes. What if they’re all a bunch of assholes and you end up hating the team you’ve loved your whole life?” 

Y/N ignored her father’s warning but silently hoped that others would feel that way, narrowing down the applicant pool. However, the rumours circulating the team had no effect on the amount of students applying for the job. The fans were loyal in Edmonton (a city not known by many around the world unless you follow hockey or are compelled to visit North America’s largest shopping mall) and although the team was losing, every kid studying athletic therapy wanted a shot with their favourite team. Y/N knew of at least fifteen students that she beat out for the position. 

Now, it’s late June and there is a general hype surrounding the team, as if Harry was about to come in and shine a light on the Decade of Darkness (a term Oilers fans use to characterize the recent years in which their favourite team hadn’t made the playoffs). That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person, but Y/N supposed that he’s been dealing with this kind of pressure since he was sixteen, maybe even younger. 

Everyone at her family’s draft party was, yet again, watching the television intently while Harry gave his first interview as an official member of the Edmonton Oilers hockey team. While Y/N normally loved watching these types of interviews, she was a bit zoned out- mesmerized by the look of him. The suit, the wavy chestnut hair, the dimple in his left cheek, the accent. The accent. She had never really been that attracted to hockey players, which many people found hard to believe given that she’s such a fan of the sport. All of the guys from her high school who played minor hockey were rotten and thought they were better than everyone else. She did have favourite players in the NHL, players that she loved and admired, but they were her favourites because she loves how they play the game, not because she wants to fuck them. 

There was something different about Harry Styles though. Not necessarily that she wanted to fuck him (especially since she recently signed an employment contract that would forbid it), but she was certainly feeling intrigued by him. He doesn’t look like the boys she went to high school with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s British, or that he opted for a suit that set him apart from the rest of them, or maybe it was the duality of the way he held himself with unshakeable confidence in his floral suit, his gaze set intensely on the person interviewing him, posture strong and dominant, while simultaneously speaking so softly, his words laced with kindness and gratitude.

“When do you start working with the team, Y/N?” Her uncle Will asked from across the room, prompting everyone to look in her direction waiting for her response. 

The news that Y/N would be working for the Oilers this season shook the family. As soon as her dad shared the news with his brother, she started receiving messages expressing congratulations from her many aunts, uncles, and cousins, shortly followed by messages asking if she would be getting free tickets to games. 

“Um, mid-September, for training camp.” 

“You get to meet Harry Styles?” her 9 year old cousin, Billy, asked. 

“I do. I will be one of the team’s trainers.” The young boy held a look of wonder on his face, as if realizing for the first time that that his oldest cousin was actually kind of cool. 

“Do you think he’s single?” Her aunt Maria asked with a smirk on her face, turning to the television to look at Harry Styles. Aunt Maria doesn’t care much for hockey but she never failed to mention which players she believed to be handsome. She was also the nosey type of aunt that liked to inquire about Y/N’s dating life. “Maybe you two will hit it off.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at her aunt, waving off her comment. But before she could retort, her father chimed in. “Ha! Yea, right! That’s not going to happen. She’s not allowed to date anyone on the team, it’s the rules. Plus, Y/N knows better than to get involved with any of these guys.” 

Her father was right. It is the rules. Y/N thought back to when she went into the Oilers headquarters back in April to sign her employment contract. She asked a lot of questions, making sure she understood everything about the document she was signing. 

“Personal relationships? Even friendships are forbidden?” she asked the head trainer, TJ, for clarification. 

“It depends. You can be friendly, sure, but I would avoid spending time with the players outside of training and game times. Could be seen as unprofessional.”  

Y/N understood why such rules were in place, and she had no issue with it at the time. A woman securing a position on a professional sports team was rare, let alone a woman securing a position with a professional men’s team. She knew when she chose this career path that it would always be an uphill battle and that she’d have to work harder and be more strategic than the men in her field. She wanted- no, needed to excel and prove that she could be a talented athletic therapist and a valuable member of the team, so she had no intention whatsoever of messing that up with any type of personal relationships. She also understood the power dynamic between the professional athletes and the support staff, the different ways in which power can be abused, and how personal relationships could complicate things. It all made sense to her. Plus, she was happy enough with just becoming friends with the other trainers and she probably wouldn’t have a lot of free time, anyways, balancing her practicum and her school work.

Today, however, she couldn’t help the very slight pull on her heartstrings at the thought of not getting to know Harry Styles on a more personal level. 

As if he’d even be interested in the first place.

In a hotel restaurant in Sunrise, Florida, a few hours after the draft, Harry Styles sat with his mother Anne, sister Gemma, and agent Jeff, celebrating his newly drafted status over a bottle of champagne. He knew he should be feeling elated, like it was the best day of his life, but all he felt was exhausted. The conversation at the table happened around him while he sat in his own head, unable to think about anything but what it might feel like to be tucked into his bed in his childhood bedroom in Holmes Chapel. 

The weeks leading up to the draft were an absolute circus filled with interviews and talking to the media nearly every day (he hates talking to the media), shooting promo for all of his endorsements (he’s thankful for the money they give him but he knows he is an excruciatingly terrible actor), and flying around North America to visit all of the potential cities where he might be drafted (it was a pointless tour because everyone knew where he was going to end up). 

He had only tonight to celebrate with his family before it was all set to start again. Him and Jeff will fly off to Edmonton tomorrow morning for a week to speak to the media there, meet the teammate he’ll be living with, and do a surprise skating session with some kids at a summer camp. Meanwhile, his mum and sister will fly back to England.

“Any idea where you’ll live then?” Anne asked her son, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the conversation. 

“Hm?” He hadn’t a clue what his mum just asked him but he’d hate to admit that rather than listening to anything the three of them had been talking about for the last hour he’d been thinking about how he’d rather be sleeping “Sorry, I think the champagne’s got to me a bit.” 

“The team’s got him living with one of his older teammates and his family.” Jeff stepped in, knowing Harry wasn’t fully paying attention. “They do this with the young guys to get them used to living on their own. Teach ‘em how to cook, do laundry, and keep ‘em in line. He won’t be partying every night and bringing girls back to his place if he lives with the guy’s wife and kids.” 

“Oh please,” Gemma chimed in. “Not like any of that would be an issue for Harry. He’s been away from home for years. And he’s hardly got time for partying and dating.” 

Harry shot Jeff a look warning him to keep his mouth shut. When Harry found out about the living arrangements the team had planned for him, he was less than pleased. After all, he’d just spent the last year living in a dorm room at the University of North Dakota where he had complete freedom. Gemma was right, he didn’t have much time for partying and dating. But he liked having his own space, and he really liked being able to invite someone over after a game, either to celebrate a win or relieve some stress after a loss. 

“You never know, some of these young guys get their first big pay cheque and a taste of the big leagues and it can go off the rails pretty fast.”

“I like to think I raised my baby to know better than to get caught up in a pay cheque.” Anne placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder and he quickly reciprocated, reaching up to place his hand over hers.  

Not liking where this conversation was going, Harry finally cut in. “You did. And Jeffrey, you know I’m not that kinda guy. Either way, none of this matters if I don’t make it past training camp. For all we know I could be going back to the juniors for the season.”

“Doesn’t matter who you are or what kinda guy you are, H, it’s just what the team does. It’s tradition. And c’mon, I know you like to keep your expectations in check, but the team’s made it pretty clear that you’re gonna be in the starting lineup come October.” 

Jeff was right. The team had all but promised that he would make it past training camp. The question wasn’t if he’d make it past training camp, but in what shape he’d be in and how long it would take for the team to start winning games.  

“The coach said I’m small and need to bulk up, especially since I’ll be playing against older, more experienced men.” Harry could feel the weight of his mum’s gaze as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not quite where I need to be yet, but I’ll get there.”

Harry and his family were stood in the hotel lobby with Jeff, convening on plans for the morning when he felt a small tug on the hem of his red floral suit jacket. He spun himself around, ready to confront the individual bold enough to touch him without his consent, to find a young girl, no older than five years old staring up at him. 

Harry looked at her, a bit taken aback and undoubtedly with a bit of confusion written on his face, and then spotted, a few feet behind her, two individuals who were most likely her parents. Suddenly, he realized that he may have actually had a few too many glasses of champagne and immediately tried to compose himself, standing straighter and trying to will away the exhaustion in his eyes and the haziness in his mind. 

“Oh - um, hello there.” He cleared his throat before using the soft voice he reserves for adorable, small children like the one stood before him. 

“Are you Harry Styles?” She asked with wide eyes and a small, timid voice.

“I am, sweetheart. What can I do for you?” 

A bright smile etched itself onto her face. But instead of answering him, she looked back at the adults standing behind her, motioning for them to help as she was too shy to proceed on her own. The man, who Harry presumed was her father, moved to stand beside her. 

“This is Millie. She wanted to say hi to you because she’s a big fan of yours.” 

Harry lowered himself in front of the young girl so that he was crouched down and eye-level with her. “Hi Millie, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.” He reached out to shake the young girl’s small hand. “Have you got anything that I could sign? Or I suppose we could take a photo if you’d like?” 

The young girl removed her hand from Harry’s, nodding her head eagerly. She began to unzip her jacket, revealing a bright orange Edmonton Oilers jersey underneath. 

“Oh? Look at that! You’re an Oilers fan. In Florida?” Harry lifted himself from his crouched position and directed his question toward at the girl’s father.

“Yes, well, we actually travelled here from Edmonton, to watch the draft in person.” Harry raised his eyebrows in shock. He knew that the flight from Edmonton to Florida is long, and likely expensive. The tickets to attend the draft live probably weren’t cheap either. “It’s not every day your favourite team picks first overall! Let alone gets to pick a player like you. We were so excited so we decided to make a family trip out of it. Turn around, Millie, show him the back!” Millie’s father handed Harry a sharpie as Millie turned her back to Harry. 

It was at that moment that Harry started to understand the weight of the moment. The name ‘STYLES’ was embroidered on the back of Millie’s Oilers jersey, above the number ‘15’ indicating his draft year. He was speechless. This was, after all, the first time he was seeing his name in the classic Oilers’ orange and blue colours adorned on a fan’s back. 

The feeling was different from earlier at the draft when they presented him with his own jersey. This one belonged to someone else. Someone bought his jersey before he’d even ever played a single minute for the team. They flew across the continent, from Edmonton to Florida, just to watch him get drafted. It was a lot for his hazy, champagne-diluted mind to take in.

Realizing he’d just been standing there staring at the jersey, he cleared his throat once again in hopes that he could hide the unknown thoughts and emotions he was trying to reconcile. “Wow, um, I didn’t realize you could get these already.”

Millie’s father laughed, “Man, they’ve been selling these in Edmonton since they announced we’d be picking first in the draft.” Again, the feeling was overwhelming for Harry. 

We’d be picking first in the draft.

To this family, and probably others in Edmonton, the Oilers were “we”. They win together, they lose together. If the Oilers pick first in the draft, they all pick first. It was their team. And now he, Harry, was a part of that “we”.

Harry reached down to sign the jersey on Millie’s back, quickly scribbling his autograph on the left side. As he straightened himself, he felt Anne move to stand beside him, apparently having sensed her son’s unease and unconscious need for his mother to join him in this moment.

“Hi, I’m Harry’s mum, Anne. Would you like me to take a picture of the four of you?” Millie’s father eagerly handed his phone to Anne and waved his wife over to be in the photo. Several photos of Harry and the family were taken, followed by a few of just Harry and Millie. 

“Would you mind if I took one of Harry and Millie on my phone as well?” Anne asked as she snapped the last photo. “This is the first time Harry’s met a fan wearing his name on an Oilers jersey. We’d like to remember it.” 

The family was more than happy to oblige so Anne took a few more photos on her phone, including one where Millie’s back was to the camera and the ‘STYLES’ name in full view. 

It was so like his mum to understand how special the moment was and to come in and save him. He couldn’t quite articulate what he was feeling in that moment, as understanding emotions and sentimentality were not his greatest strengths, and he most definitely never would have asked to take a photo to keep for himself had she not done it. 

The obvious feelings were joy and gratitude. Every day he was thankful to play the game he loved, to be successful, and to have fans that loved and supported him. It didn’t always make sense that complete strangers paid him so much attention just for playing a game, but he accepted it and always tried to show those strangers kindness in return. However, there was another feeling lingering, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Looking at his mum, he knew that she knew what it was. She always knew. And certainly she would make him talk about it later.

As they separated from the family and walked toward the hotel elevators, where Gemma and Jeff were waiting, Anne grabbed onto her son’s arm, holding him close as they walked side by side. 

“Do you see that they love you already, my darling?” She asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at his mum, unsure of what she was going on about. “I know you. I know that you care what people think and that you are scared to disappoint them. You just need to step out on the ice and be yourself. Just be Harry. They already love you and this is only just the beginning.”

WOW! OK. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I wanted this chapter to be more of an introduction to harry and the mc and to the fan culture that harry is about to experience!! I’ve already started on the next part so that should be up before Christmas! If you’ve made it this far, all I can say is that I love you and appreciate you. If you liked it, please let me know. I debated not posting this so many times (and I might even regret it later) so feedback will certainly ease my troubled mind!! I ALWAYS LOVE YOU, BUT ESPECIALLY TODAY!! xx Shan. 

Harry’s Draft Day Look

talk to me about generational | fic masterlist

[wonder-womans-ex]

‘Cause Boy I was Made for You

By wonder-womans-ex for @inloveoknutzy Sweater Weather secret santa exchange 2020

When Remus Lupin was eleven years old, he learned about soulmates. 

“Almost everyone gets a soulmark on their nineteenth birthday,” Mr. Holliday, his fifth-grade teacher, had explained. “A design, like a tattoo, on their left wrist. And out there, somewhere, someone will have a matching one.

“Some people don’t get them until later—no one knows why. Some don’t get them at all. It’s rare, but some people have more than one soulmate, or their soulmate changes. 

“Can anyone tell me why this might be?”

Trust a teacher to turn this into a lesson, Remus thought, and put up his hand. 

“Because people change, and the person who your soul matches could change, too?” 

“Very good, Mr. Lupin.” 

***

When Sirius Black was eleven years old, his parents kept him home from school. Instead, they sat him down at the dining room table—which was only ever used for special occasions; he couldn’t fathom why this might be considered one—and told him three things. 

“One,” Walburga said, bony fingers and long nails that reminded Sirius of talons drumming on the centuries-old wood, “your career comes first. Always. No matter who your soulmate turns out to be or how you feel about it, you are expected to make the choice that benefits yourself and your role in this family.” 

“Two,” Orion put in, “you are the only person who can prove who your soulmate is. If the reality is something that puts your future or your reputation at risk, lying is the best option. Remember, listen to your head, not your wrist.”

“Three—” this was Walburga again, “—your soulmark, when you get it, will remain covered at all times. No one else is permitted to see it. Are we clear?”

Sirius nodded. 

“Speak up!”

“Yes, Mother. Yes, Father.”

***

When Remus Lupin was thirteen years old, he had his first kiss. It was with a girl from his first aid course to whom he’d never really talked before, and it was wet and clumsy and didn’t taste very nice. In six years when he got his soulmark, he probably wouldn’t even remember her name. 

***

When Sirius Black was thirteen years old, he fell asleep in math class twice. He’d spent the entire night practicing—under his father’s instructions, of course—and the words in the textbook began to swim in front of his eyes. 

His mother slapped him across the cheek when she found out. Though he told no one for a very long time, that was when he started drinking coffee. 

***

When Remus Lupin was fifteen years old, he googled what if your soulmate doesn’t love you. 

***

When Sirius Black was fifteen years old, he found out what it was like to be famous. He enjoyed it, at first. There was so much to enjoy: the attention from his parents, the people who recognized him in public and smiled, and the hockey. 

The hockey was everything. 

He wouldn’t have thought so, but it was freeing, really, to be on the ice, doing what he loved, and know that the whole world was watching. It showed him he was enough—better than enough. He was the best. He’d been working towards being best his whole life, and now he finally got to feel good about it. What wasn’t to like about that?

Amycus Carrow, apparently. The first guy on his team to notice he was different. “Queer,” he whispered, as Sirius packed his gear up. 

Sirius wasn’t sure who he was trying to prove something to by sleeping with Janie Clearwater—Amycus or himself. 

***

When Remus Lupin was seventeen years old, he and his mom picked his little brother Julian up from daycare. Jules had a crude drawing of a star on his wrist in green washable marker. 

“My teacher has one! So I wanted one too!” 

Remus smiled, ruffling Julian’s hair. 

That night, he locked his bedroom door and looked up Sirius Black. Video after video of slapshots, passes, interviews, until he finally drifted off to sleep thinking that’s the sort of person I want to be loved by. 

***

When Sirius Black was seventeen years old, he had his first panic attack. He wasn’t sure what triggered it; he wasn’t sure how he pulled himself out, but he ran a thumb over the red marks where his fingernails had dug into his skin and tried not to cry.

***

When Remus Lupin was nineteen years old, everything went wrong. He woke up on his birthday to his wrist itching, and it took all his willpower not to look at it. He wasn’t quite ready yet. 

It was like Schrödinger’s cat, he reasoned—if he didn’t look, he couldn’t confirm what had been nagging at the back of his head for a while now. He couldn’t deny it, either, but it was better than nothing. 

Julian ran to hug him when he got downstairs, grinning to show off his gap-toothed smile. “I got you a present! Wanna know what it is?”

“I think,” Remus told him, “I’m about to find out anyway.”

Two weeks later, Fenrir Greyback approached him in the locker room. 

***

When Sirius Black was nineteen years old, he found himself signed to an NHL team he wasn’t supposed to be on and with a soulmark he could make neither head nor tail of: a silver wolf and black dog, intertwined like yin and yang, two crossed hockey sticks behind them. He remembered, distantly, being told that soulmarks were meant to make sense. 

The black dog was probably meant to represent him—black dog, dog black (he still hadn’t forgiven his parents for that one)—and the hockey sticks almost definitely had something to do with, well, hockey, but the wolf he had no idea about.  

***

It is now that these two stories meet. There is a split second, a fraction of time, and it seems as though the whole world is holding its breath. Will their paths cross, only to continue on their separate ways? Will they travel together for a time, before they are destined to part once more?

“Hello,” says Remus, and when Sirius holds his hand out coldly, their fate is decided. 

***

“Pots, c’mere a second!” 

Sirius is happy, almost. He’s got the team—he’s one of them, now, really and truly, but there’s something still off. He knows what it is, but he doesn’t want to. 

“I’m coming, Captain! Keep your head on!”

James comes to a stop in front of him. “Hi. What do you need?”

“Please poke Dumo.” A few of the guys chuckle, and this makes Sirius smile. He likes making other people laugh. 

“What, and you needed me for that? You couldn't do it yourself?”

Finn walks into the room, then, jersey half on. “Why do it at all? What did poor old Dumo do to you, anyway?”

“Yeah,” Pascal says from where he’s sitting by his locker. “Respect your elders!”

“Elder, you say? Edging on retirement, are you?”

“Tais-toi!” 

Glancing over to Remus, Sirius allows the barest flicker of a smile to pass over his face. He gets one in return. 

“Alright, everyone get moving,” Coach tells them, opening the door and surveying where they’re all arranged, faces like guilty puppies. “You’re paid to play hockey, not sit on your asses and gossip. Practice starts in five minutes, or you run laps around the outside of the rink. In skates.”

Most of them groan, and Kasey downs a Powerade. “Well, boys, that’s my cue.”

James is the next to go, then Finn, then Logan. Leo and Talker continue their argument—something about George Harrison; Sirius isn’t really listening—out onto the ice, and Adam follows them with Olli and Nado close behind. Dumo winks at Sirius before he goes, too, and then it’s just the two of them. 

“What did he do?” Remus asks, after Sirius has laced and relaced his left skate three times. “Dumo, I mean.” 

“Nothing much. Just… well, if you must know, he put shaving cream in the fridge, once. Guess what I had on my waffles that morning.” 

“Waffles aren’t on your diet plan.”

“It was last year.”

“And you waited until now to get James to poke him?”

He knows Remus can see right through him. He always can. “Never question the methods of a hockey player, Loops.”

He meant it as a joke, but Remus stiffens for some reason, jaw clenching and eyes darting away. There’s an awkward pause before Sirius says, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.” 

“Right.” He clears his throat, trying in vain to find something else to say. He would be lying if he said Remus didn’t mean something to him—he knows it. But, after all, knowing something and acknowledging it are two very different things. 

Sirius runs the laps. 

***

That night, after practice, Remus is about to head for the bus station when Sirius steps in front of him. He’s walking backwards, even with his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, and Remus isn’t ashamed to say he’s a little impressed. (From a purely objective point of view, of course. It has nothing to do with Sirius and everything to do with the skill it would take, hypothetically, to do such a thing.) (He’s not fooling anyone, least of all himself.) 

“Want a lift?”

“You don’t even know where I live.”

“Well, we’ll just have to fix that.”

Remus rolls his eyes; he pretends to think about it. “All right,” he says, finally. “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“I get to choose the music.”

Sirius lets out one loud ‘ha!’  It’s the most beautiful thing Remus has heard in a long time. (That would go well: “Oh, I’ve changed my mind. No need to put on the radio, I’ll be content if you just keep laughing.”) (There’s a reason people like him are off to the side, out of sight, instead of right in the spotlight with a microphone.)  

Remus is glad that Sirius waits until he’s parked outside Remus’s apartment building to bring up their earlier conversation. It says something that they say “So, about this evening—” in unison, but Remus isn’t going to think about that. 

“You go first,” Sirius tells him, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Please.”

“I suppose,” Remus says, slowly, “That I haven’t quite been honest with you. Any of you. I wasn’t always a PT.”

“Of course not. You’re my age. You can’t have always worked for the Lions—before that you were a teenager. A student.”

Remus shakes his head. “No. Before that I was a player.” 

“You played? Why’d you stop?”

“Bad hit,” he says, shrugging. “I’m over it. But I… I know what it’s like. The pressure. The rules. So, if you need someone to talk to… just remember—I know what the game does to a guy. You’re not the only one who’s been told to be something you aren’t by someone who forgets you’re a person off the ice, too.

“See you tomorrow, Cap. Thanks for the ride.” 

***

Sirius is probably the one person in history who has managed to burn eggs without even turning the stove on. 

“How on earth did that happen?” James asks when Sirius phones him. 

“I dropped them into the toaster—hey! Stop laughing! It could happen to anyone!”

“Yes,” he hears from the other end of the line, “But it didn’t. It happened to you.”

It takes exactly two minutes and thirty-seven seconds after hanging up on James for Sirius to decide to call Remus. Cooking failures might not have been quite what Remus meant when he said Sirius could talk to him, but it’s the problem at hand right now. 

(Remus laughs just as hard as James, but at least he has the decency to apologize for it afterwards.) 

“Well,” he says, once he’s calmed down, “What are you going to eat now?” 

“I’m not sure. Cereal?”

“Practice is in two and a half hours. You need more than that.”

“I’ll be—”

“If you end that sentence with ‘fine,’ I’ll take the laces out of your skates and strangle you with them. Do you want me to walk you through, I dunno, a pancake?” 

“Sure. What do I need?”

“Flour, butter, eggs, milk…”

Twenty minutes later Sirius is left with milk on his shirt, flour in his hair, butter practically everywhere else, and a microwave that won’t start. 

“I think,” he tells Remus, “I should have cereal.”

“You are going to eat a pancake if it’s the last thing I do—”

“Why don’t you just come over here and make it for me, then? I’m sure you’ll have more success.” 

He holds his breath for a moment, hoping this wasn’t a step too far, before Remus responds. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be over in… half an hour?” 

“Sounds good.” 

Click. 

The instant the call is over, Sirius opens the freezer and grabs one of the popsicles he secretly has stashed there. They’re not part of his diet plan, but he needs one. Then he takes a sponge and starts trying to get the butter out of the sole of his shoe. 

***

The first thought that crosses Remus’s mind is that Sirius’s tongue is purple from one of the popsicles he thinks no one knows about. If Remus kissed him, he’d probably taste like grapes. (The thought is banished from his mind the moment it enters.) 

“So,” he says, surveying the damage. “I am going to teach you how to make a pancake.” 

Sirius, it turns out, is infinitely better at following instructions when they’re simple, and the two of them work out a system quickly. Remus makes the pancake, Sirius gets the ingredients. It works. 

“That’s salt, not sugar. Try again.”

(Most of the time, at least.)

 “Really?” Sirius is squinting at the package. “Why doesn’t it say so?”

“It does. Right there.” 

“How am I supposed to read that?”

“You need glasses, Cap.” 

“I have glasses. I just never wear them.” 

“What?” This is news to Remus. Visions of Sirius with glasses and bed hair are swimming in front of his eyes. “Why?” 

A shrug. “I look stupid.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’d be drop-dead gorgeous in anything.” 

There’s a beat of silence. Remus realizes that, yes, he said that out loud. “I mean, all those fangirls certainly seem to think so.” 

“Right. Yeah.” Sirius clears his throat. 

“Anyway, pancakes! I think these are almost ready to cook—can you turn on the element?”

“The what now?” 

“The element? The coil on the stove?” 

“Should’ve just said that in the first place,” Sirius grumbles. “Fucking Americans.” 

“Fucking French.” 

Suddenly, Remus has a spatula pointed at his nose. He has to cross his eyes to see it properly. “Say that again; I dare you.”

“Fucking French?”

“Awright, that’s it! En garde, bitch!” 

And so begins the great whisk-vs-spatula duel of 2020. There is very little batter left once they’re done—in the bowl, at least. Most of it is on their clothes. 

They look at each other. “Cereal?” 

“...Cereal.” 

***

Kasey’s eyes go wide—almost comically so—when they show up to practice together. 

“Cap giving rides?” He says, and Sirius isn’t sure what accent he’s trying to fake but he ends up sounding like a scandalized duchess from the movie adaptation of an Austen knockoff. (Maybe that is what he was going for. It’s hard to know, with Kasey.) “I thought the day would never come.”

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.”

Remus’s elbow digs into Sirius’s rib cage. “You don’t want to say that. He tried to make me shut up this morning—it’s something I’ll never recover from.” 

Sirius almost laughs at the expression Remus makes when he realizes exactly how that sounds. 

“He dumped pancake batter down my shirt!” 

“You didn’t!” The look on James’s face is aghast. “First the eggs, now this—what will people think?” 

Finn looks up from his phone. “Eggs?” 

“Sirius here dropped the eggs he was going to eat for breakfast into his—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” 

Dumo slings an arm around his shoulders. “The price you must pay for telling James to poke me yesterday. Learn from this, mon fils. Learn.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do, old man.”

“Treachery!” 

Shrugging him off, Sirius grins. “I am the kitchen monster. Cross me and I will slaughter you in a food war.”

“Try me.” This is Logan speaking; Sirius hadn’t even realized he was there. 

“You’ve been warned!” 

***

“Look, there are twenty-two hockey players in this arena, and I ain’t one of them,” Moody says, and Remus can’t be sure, but he thinks Sirius looks at him. 

***

“You’re favouring your right leg,” Remus comments as soon as Sirius is off the ice. “Want me to take a look?”

“It’s fine, really—”

“I’ll try again. Want me to take a look?” 

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Loops.”

“That’s what I thought you said.”

They walk into the PT room in businesslike silence, Sirius hoping all the way that one of them will break it. Neither does, and it isn’t until Remus has taken off both his skates for him, now expertly examining his left ankle, that he realizes what he should say. 

“You mentioned you played, last night.”

The finger tracing his Achilles tendon stills. “I did.” 

“Were you any good?” He knows, somewhere, that he’s entering forbidden territory. He can’t bring himself to care. 

“I’d like to believe so.”

“Be honest.” Sirens are blaring in his head. He keeps going. 

“There were rumours…” Remus bites his lip, glances away. “People said I was set for first.”

“What? How come you never said anything? C’mon, you need to play with us sometime, just scrimmage or something—”

“Maybe. That hit…”

“Right. God, I’m sorry, Rem.”

If Remus’s Adam’s apple bobs at the nickname, Sirius doesn’t notice. He certainly doesn’t try his best not to jump to conclusions. (Double negative; that’s a yes, a voice that sounds suspiciously like James’s says in his head. Shut up, he tells it.)

“It’s fine. Really. I just don’t like talking about it. And besides, I like this. Working with the team, even if I can’t be a part of it.”

“You are. A part of the team, I mean. Just as much as I am.”

“Sure.”

There’s another awkward pause before Remus clears his throat. “So, I’m gonna put on some anti-inflammatory gel because it’s a little swollen, but don’t get used to it. I want you to keep doing some stretches, not too much pressure. Capeesh?”

“What the fuck is a capeesh?”

“Just say it.”

“...Capeesh?”

“Awesome.” 

Remus leans forward towards him, their foreheads almost touching. Sirius’s breath catches. 

It’s over just as suddenly. The tube of extra-strength Voltaren is in Remus’s hand, and Sirius feels stupid for thinking he was going to—

Nope. Not thinking about that. 

When he feels tears start to prick at his eyes, he glances up at the fluorescent lights overhead; at least then he’ll have an excuse. There’s a moth resting on one. Its wings flutter once, twice, then go still. Fragile things, moths are—maybe it’s died, maybe it hasn’t. He could read into that, but he won’t. 

He jumps when the cool of the gel on Remus’s hands touches his foot. “Hey!” He yelps, looking quickly down. 

Sirius hates to succumb to cliches, but he would be lying if he was to say his heart doesn’t still. 

Because Remus has pulled the sleeves of his jacket up to his elbows, and his wrist is turned to the sky—to Sirius, who has seen that mark before somewhere. 

Somewhere. He’s kidding himself. He’s seen it every day whenever he bothers to look at his own soulmark, and he’s seeing it again now. 

“You know what, I’m fine,” he blurts out, shaking his ankle out of Remus’s grasp. “Thanks, though. See you later, Loops.” 

***

Remus stays there for a second, watching Sirius leave. He doesn’t know what he did wrong, and he’s not sure he wants to. 

When he gets up to leave, tossing the container towards the first aid kit on the bench and allowing himself a small smile when it lands perfectly inside, blood rushes to his head. He closes his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass. 

And then he crashes into Finn. 

“Whoa, sorry,” Remus says, stumbling backwards.

“Nah, don’t stress it. There’s just something I want you to check on.”

Remus is hit by a sense of deja vu. He wonders if Finn, too, is going to leave without explanation. He follows him back into the PT room, Finn gesturing for him to lock the door. 

Though he may be the shorter of the two, Remus knows it’s his job to be the bigger person. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Finn waits another moment before yanking one sleeve up to reveal three paw prints, each no bigger than a thumbnail, clustered together—one forest green, one golden, and one a deep navy blue. 

“Your soulmark.” Remus doesn’t understand. “What? Is something wrong?” 

“There’s three of them,” Finn says. “Which means there’s three of us.”

“You have two soulmates?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fine, Finn. It may not be common, but it’s not unheard of. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.” 

“It’s not that. It’s… hey, you can’t tell anyone this, okay?”

“I know. Doctor-patient confidentiality, remember?”

“Right.” Finn takes a breath, squeezing his eyes closed. “What if I told you I know who they are? Or I think I do?” 

“Hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically.”

“Well, I’d ask you if they knew.”

“And I’d say I don’t think so. One of them’s pretty stubborn—wouldn’t see love if it stood up on the ice and sang the national anthem—and the other isn’t nineteen yet, so he doesn’t—I mean wouldn’t—have his mark yet.” 

“His?”

Finn’s eyes widen. There is a pause before he nods, slowly. “Yeah. Got a problem?”

“Trust me, I’m the last person on earth who’d have a problem with something like that. Hypothetically.” 

This, at least, earns Remus a smile. “Are you…?”

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.” Another pause. “What if I told you, still hypothetically, that they were both on the team?” 

“Then I’d say get the fuck out of here and win them over before they start thinking you’ve forgotten about them.” 

Finn, smiling ear to ear, starts to leave. “Wait,” he says, hand on the doorknob. “You said you were…”

“Gay.”

“Yeah. Do—do you know who your soulmate is?”

Remus opens his mouth to say ‘no.’ He really does. But what comes out—when he takes into account the look of recognition on Sirius’s face when Remus had his sleeves rolled up; the understanding that had passed between them outside Remus’s building (god, that was just last night); the way they’ve always just clicked—is most certainly not ‘no.’ 

“Oh, fuck, I think I do,” he says, and he and Finn run out into the hallway together. 

Sirius’s car is pulling out of the parking lot when Remus arrives, out of breath, at the front doors of the arena. 

“I don’t know why he’s in such a hurry.” Remus jumps. He hadn’t heard James come to stand beside him. “Just packed up his gear at the speed of light and left. Didn’t even shower; he said he’d do it at home.”

So Sirius had been so appalled—disgusted, even—at Remus being his soulmate that he’d left without explanation, with barely even a goodbye. There was a pleasant thought. 

He turns so his back is against the door, sliding slowly down to sit on the floor. 

“Y’know,” James says, sitting next to him, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you needed a hug.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence before Remus says, “James?”

“Yeah?” 

“I need a hug.” 

James gives the best hugs. Everyone says so. But until now, Remus has never been on the receiving end of a true James Potter hug—warm, strong, and friendly as hell. (“I want that on a t-shirt,” James says when Remus tells him so.)

But eventually, James has to go, too, and Remus heads back to the PT room. He passes Logan in the hall, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a two-by-four. Maybe it’s Finn’s doing; he had mentioned that one of them was oblivious. Logan, Remus knows, is the definition of oblivious. 

***

“And I think that’s all,” Coach Weasley says, glancing around, “Unless anyone else has something to say? Moody? Cap? Loops?” 

“Actually, yes,” says Remus after a moment. “Checkups! Not naming names but Kris lied about his rib acting up so now all of you get to be interrogated.” 

Sirius swallows. He’s not anxious to be alone with Remus; not after yesterday. There’s no way there aren’t going to be questions. 

Kasey goes first, Remus taking just under five minutes to deem him ‘good to go.’ Kris, surprisingly, is only kept for eight, despite the claim of his ribs acting up again. Finn takes the longest—fifteen minutes—and as soon as he’s out he grabs Logan and Leo by the wrists and marches them off somewhere. Sirius’s turn comes last, right after Pascal’s, who gives him a knowing look as he enters.

“Hi,” Remus says, first aid kit nowhere in sight. “Sit down.” 

“Where?” Sirius gets only a shrug in response. 

He hesitates a moment, then sits on the floor, picking at the sole of his sneaker. 

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks suddenly.

“Fine. Ankle’s not bothering me any more.”

“No, I mean how are you feeling?”

Scoffing, he starts to stand up. “I’m not doing this.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.” 

“Sirius Black, sit your ass back down before I make you.” 

Sirius sits his ass back down. 

“Good. Now, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m… confused,” he says, trying to be honest without being specific. “And nervous. And I cried myself to sleep last night, which I haven’t done since I was like seventeen, so there’s that. But mostly I’m just really fucking mad.” 

“At me.” It isn’t a question. 

“No, not at you! At me! At the—” he gestures wildly. “—Universe, or whatever. Can I go now?” 

Remus doesn’t even acknowledge his request. “So you’re disappointed.”

“...Yeah.” 

“May I ask why?” 

“I’m pretty sure you fucking know why.” 

“Maybe I do. But I’d like you to explain it to me.” 

The stupid thing is that Sirius wants to talk about it. He really does. And Remus is the only person he can conceivably talk about it to. But he still chokes on his words when he says, anger burning his throat, “It was never supposed to be like this.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Sirius practically screams. “Stop trying to fucking— psychoalalyze me or something, for fuck’s sake. You fucking asked, and I—” He tears his fingers through his hair, feeling his chest start to constrict. “Just stop talking!” 

The echoes of his shouts fade out too quickly, and the only thing worse than the voices is the sound of his breathing getting faster and faster. Remus’s hand twitches, as though he wants to touch him but thinks better of it.

“It was always supposed to be someone different. Someone faceless; nameless. Someone I could run away from. I can’t fucking run away from you, Remus.

“I always thought I could lie. That I could—pretend, or something. Just keep hiding. It was supposed to be someone I could hide from, because I’ve spent my whole life fucking hiding and that’s all I know how to do. It was never supposed to be someone I could fall in love with.” 

There’s a choked noise from where Remus is sitting on the bench, but nothing else. Sirius refuses to look at him. 

“And I just—I just fucking hate this, because all I’ve been told is that hockey comes before my dreams. And that’s made sense until now because until now hockey was my dream, but now there’s you. Yeah.” 

Remus, to his credit, waits until Sirius’s breathing has calmed down and he’s furiously wiped the tears from his eyes to speak. “What do you need?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean forget everything. Forget your family, forget the team, forget me—what do you need?  

“Right now? For the rest of my life? Because those are two very different things.” 

“Let’s start with now. Can I do anything for you? Can you do anything for yourself?” 

“I need a hot chocolate.” 

***

They wait until everyone else has gone, and then make their way outside to Sirius’s car. There’s only one other in the parking lot—a grey Toyota Remus thinks belongs to Nado, or maybe Kris. He’s not sure why he thinks it matters, because it doesn’t. 

Silence hangs around them the whole four blocks to the nearest Tim Horton’s. Inhale; exhale. Inhale; exhale. This doesn’t necessarily mean anything. 

That doesn’t stop Remus from hoping. 

He knows it’s wrong; of course he does. It’s Sirius’s choice, in the end, because Sirius is the one who will be most affected. His career, his life—all on the line if he decides to trust whatever plan the world has in store for them. It’s not like that for Remus. Not anymore. 

There’s a parking spot right outside the front door. Sirius pulls into it, but he doesn’t get out right away. He glances around, makes sure there’s no one immediately in sight, and then he looks down to where his hands now rest in in his lap. Slowly, he pulls up his right sleeve to expose, bit by bit, his soulmark. 

“I don’t know why I never guessed it could be you—Wolfy McWolf Wolf.” 

Remus feels his lips twitch upwards into something resembling a smile. “I could say the same, Dog Black.” 

When he puts his hand on the console, Sirius rests his on top of it. It’s not much. 

But it’s something. 

***

Sirius looks longingly at the Boston cream doughnuts. “Please. I haven’t had one in so long.” 

“Think again, Mr. I’m-on-a-diet-plan.” 

He’s not surprised. What was he thinking, having his PT as his soulmate? (Well, he wasn’t. He didn’t get to choose. But, he thinks to himself, the point still stands.) 

“I’ll have a medium hot chocolate, please, a plain toasted bagel,” Remus looks at him and sighs. “...And a Boston cream doughnut.” 

When the food is set down on the pickup counter, Remus snatches it before Sirius has a chance to. “Hey, this is my doughnut.” 

Sirius pouts. 

“You’re cute. Here.” He tosses him the brown paper bag, and Sirius removes his prize carefully. He‘s going to eat every piece of chocolate glazing if it kills him. 

Back out in the car—this is a conversation neither of them is willing to have in the public dining area—Remus chews on his bagel thoughtfully. Sirius tries and fails not to swear when his hot chocolate burns his tongue.

“Shit!” 

Remus glances over at him. Their eyes meet for a moment, then both look away. “So,” Sirius says after a while. “I think we need to talk.” 

“Yeah.” 

Silence, then—

“You go first,” they say at the same time, and laugh. Some of the tension is broken. 

Sirius reaches hesitantly to where Remus’s arm rests between the seats. He doesn’t need to voice his question—Remus sees it in his eyes; nods. 

Up close, he can see that there are a few differences between their marks. Nothing that could possibly mean they aren’t soulmates—just the discolouring on the dog’s tail; the angle of one of the sticks; the faded white gash that stretches from one side of Remus’s wrist to the other, separating the wolf’s head from its body. Sirius doesn’t quite know what he’s doing when he presses his lips to the scar. 

When he looks up, he sees that Remus is trying not to cry. And that’s when he makes his decision. 

“I want this,” he says, voice soft but sure. “All of it.”

[heyheydidjaknow]

I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. “Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

--

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11