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barzzal · 4 years

Text

between halls and thin walls → part three

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: fingering, fem and male receiving, mentions of pornography, sexual/suggestive themes, swearing, mat not knowing how to eat pussy, anddd too much sneaking around i’m hating myself for it

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three (8.6k), part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: god is fair, sexy nasty, cinderella, planet god damn by mac miller

note: so sorry for the wait! have been a lot busier with uni :(( took weeks for me to finally sit down and write on my laptop to finish this aaaah anw here’s the update and i’m making it up to yall i hope you like!! happy reading babies <3

“Wait–” you break off, your fingers already weaving through his ever so gorgeous hair.

“What about Tito?” you fret.

You’re sure there was at least a hint of annoyance in his voice. Possibly irked that you had to ruin the one thing you both have been craving for for weeks.

“He won’t come home, trust me.” he says, lips already making its way back to touch your skin, nestling on your jawline, before trailing down to the intricate line of your neck, his movement hasty with a sense of hunger and urgency.

You didn’t mind. It felt good.

“Okay– no. Let’s stop this for a sec.” you try to snap out of it, pushing him away but just enough to keep him within arms reach. You rest both your hands on his broad shoulders whilst he rests his on your hips, just a few inches above your ass.

“We need to clear things out.” you start, eyes lingering on his irises, making you wet your lips at the sight.

“Didn’t we clear things out thrice now?” he quirks his brows, “And it kinda looks like we’re about to clear the same thing for the fourth time. What’s not clear about it?” Mat kids, half laughing as he lets you punch him playfully, “I’m not kidding, Barz.” you say, clearing your throat.

You didn’t mind for any of his double entendres but you did mind the fact that whatever’s about to happen tonight is bound to tip the scales of whatever it was that you were having with Mathew.

“Fine. Let’s talk,” he agrees. He walks towards the bed just as he began pulling his shirt off over his head to undress himself.

“Mathew!” you call him yet again, earning yourself a defensive shrug from him, “What? We’re gonna have sex either way might as well talk while we’re at it, right?” he counters, “Now, take your clothes off.”

Regardless of being annoyed at him for acting like an unreasonable child engaging in too much banter, you let out a laugh in disbelief, letting Mathew’s quirks have a hold on you. You roll your eyes out but do as you’re told and begin taking your shirt off which you then throw his way.

Mat whistles, a smirk sprouting off his lips, evidently in awe of how good you looked half-naked, “Wow.”

You cock up a smirk and shrug to play it off, “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” you turn the compliment back which Mat only reciprocated with a taunting wink, brushing his shoulder briefly like an idiot.

“So. How do you want to play this?” you inquire.

“Naked, I hope.” he laughs, putting his sweats off revealing nothing but his boxers on. When he sees you roll your eyes, yet again, almost wondering if you’re going to bawl it out at any moment, Mat clears his throat and decides to dial down his terrible jokes.

“Fine. Let’s just say we’re doing ‘Friends with Benefits’ or, you know, what was that movie again?” he thinks for a second, snapping his fingers as he gathers a few romantic comedies he’s seen in the past. “No Strings Attached! The one with Natalie Portman! Yeah, that’s the one.” he marvels.

You look at him quite stunned that he’s familiar with these movies. “Wow. I thought you guys are just into full-on pornography and sports.”

“Hey!” he retorts, defending himself at once, “I’m speaking your language, dumbass. And for the record, I don’t like porn.” with that, you let out a loud laugh accompanied by a scoff, obviously not buying any of his lies. To which Mat jumps to defend himself the moment he sees the mocking look in your eyes, “What?? Not all men likes pornography, y/n.”

With both hands on your hips, you arch your brow at him and reply with a revolting grin, “First rule, no lying. I wasn’t born last night, Barzal.”

“Fine. I don’t like it like it.” he points out just as he averts your gaze, “But I’m certainly not against it. Those girls need to make a living, y/n.”

You meet his cocky remark with an exasperated sigh, “You’re such a pig.”

Mat answers with a shrug, letting your judgmental glares slide, “Call me names, I don’t care. You’re the one sleeping with a pig.”

And as if it had been expected all along, it didn’t take long for the both of you to end up in bed, wearing nothing but your skin, breathing in each other’s breaths, gasping as you let yourselves let loose with the company of a friend.

Mathew marvels at the sight of your heaving chest whilst his head was wedged in between your thighs, going on endless circles as he nibbles on your clit, perhaps trying a little too hard to make you meet your high.

What the fuck is he doing? is probably what every girl has asked herself when a man goes down on her thinking that he already got her all figured out.

Mathew knew what he was doing to be fair. He was there. For the most part. His fingers were nothing but magic but his mouth was a different subject. It was almost as if he was overachieving something. Kind of like the way he does during plays that would eventually cause them the game.

He’s in his head a little too much. That’s for sure. You didn’t want to ruin the moment so you decide to let it slide and put on your best suit. After all, it wasn’t the first time you had to fake your sexual orgasms. You weren’t entirely surprised though. Half of the men you’ve gone out with didn’t know shit about eating pussy. And Mat was pretty, at least he had that going on for him.

You bit your lower lip, trying to suppress the fact that you weren’t enjoying it. Mat was doing all sorts of things at once and it was all too much. Too much that you’d rather finish the job yourself than have someone licking your region like a fucking chew toy.

As much as you didn’t want to, you arch your back and let out a fake moan, curling your fingers on the sheets, the other tugging on Mat’s hair, staging the perfect scene Mat had wanted to see. He emerges from below and hovers on top of you with a proud grin on his face, oblivious of the dramatic pin you’ve successfully put into the night.

“And that, my friend,” he smirks, “is how you do it.”

Oh, believe me, it is not. You try to smile, “Hm. It’s that easy, huh?”

“Well, yeah. Think of it like a scrimmage.” he says as he starts to pepper kisses on your cheeks, his hands roaming around your body, compensating for what his mouth missed. “Or a shootout even.”

“I’m thinking no.” you deny, “Rule two, if talking hockey is your definition of dirty talk, you better zip it.” you stress out as you prop your leg around his waist in order for you to move on top of him.

Mat chuckles, trying to mask how much he longed to feel your mouth envelop his member. There hasn’t been a day where the image of you sucking his length didn’t enter his mind. It didn’t matter where he was. Whether he was in the shower, on the road with the boys, leaving for practice, or just tying his skates. He wanted nothing more than to look down at you as your little tears revolt to escape your doe eyes whilst you take him whole. Indeed, it was a sight for Mathew. And god knows how much he’s willing to give just to see it again.

You spit just as you kiss the tip of his shaft, stroking his length in a circular motion to spread your saliva on his cock before you proceed on pressing gentle kisses on his head; edging him for not letting you cum— unconsciously wanting him to know how to give a goddamn head the right way.

You patiently went your way as you began taking him in your mouth, inching down his thickness without breaking off of his dark and lustful gaze. Mat rests his head on the headboard, his breathing growing heavy and hoarse whilst he watches his dick be consumed by your hollowing cheeks, sucking the life out of him.

“Fuck. You’re so good.” he groans, pulling your hair with his free hand before guiding you further down his dick. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Flattered by his praises which you find undeniably hot, you pop him out of your mouth, letting all your spit drip onto it just before gathering it back once you start licking him underneath, sucking on his balls as your tongue goes on little circles, playing with it for a while before letting it go with a loud pop.

You watch Mat lose his mind with every movement you make but you know full well not to let him come in your mouth. It’s bad enough you didn’t get to come the first time he tried tonight. You won’t have yourself seeing the light of day high and dry while Mat gets to doze off the second you leave for his door.

You climb on top of him. Mat was rather quick to let his hands find its way to your hips, your pussy sitting on his flat stomach just enough to let him know how wet you still are for him in spite of not getting the fun you’ve wanted for your own.

“Where’s the rubber?” you ask him. Mat props himself quickly and carefully shifts towards his bedside table. You feel him on your back, poking on your skin whilst he pulls out one of the drawers. He fishes a wrapped condom straight from the box which he then swiftly opens with his teeth, motioning for you to get off of him first so he could get settled.

“Ready?” you ask him, “Ready.”

Mat rolls over and secures you in between his hands resting on both sides of your head. You feel his head poking against your abdomen as he finally takes his shaft to rub it in between you far too moistened slit just before he takes the plunge and dive deep.

“So,” you struggle to find the words as Mat finally starts making up for his loss a while ago. Your fingers envelop his nape, digging on his skin as you let himself adjust inside you. Stretching you whole with barely half his dick pushing through you. Thank god this was one of the many things Mat definitely did not suck at.

“Wanna walk me through this whole set up?”

Mathew groans, his chest hard against yours as he pumps inside you at a steady pace; one that was pleasurably slow. One that had you closing your eyes whilst you let your head sink into his pillows.

Despite working his way on tending to too many things at once, with his thumb brushing on one of your nipples, his lips attached to your earlobes, and his free hand secured on your hips, Mat whispers in your ear. “It’s like what we’ve agreed on that night.” he breathes heavily, his mind trailing off to that night momentarily before he speaks again, “We’re friends.”

“And?” you whine as you feel his wet lips brush briefly on your sensitive skin just enough to send chills up your spine, making you crave more of his touch; a grave wanting kindling inside your gut like fire.

“Friends…” he repeats in between kisses, “who likes to do this.” his lips travel from the corner of your lips and onto your jaw line. He then lets himself pull away just so he could look you in the eye, all whilst maintaining both your bodies moving in sync as you follow his lead.

“You do know that things like this almost never work, right?” you honestly say, telling him the very same thing you’ve told him when you first crossed the line and threw everything you’ve progressively built with him throughout the years of being Anthony’s best friends.

“Almost is good enough for me.” he counters with a husky voice, feeling constrained by how tight your pussy was around him. It had been a while and Mat was going insane just by thinking about how your cunt was made exactly for him. It was absurd for him to think such a thing but he would not deny the sensation coursing through his veins as if sex had become something entirely new to him. That you have miraculously been able to paint something far better than what he’s already gotten used to for who knows how long; luring him into the worst kind of addiction he could get himself into. And although Mathew wanted to hate himself that it had to happen with you, he knew he couldn’t.

“Let’s not have secrets,” he suggests. You raise both your brows, quite intrigued that he requested such a thing. “We’re not that close to have secrets, Barzal.” you remind him.

“Exactly!” he cheers, voice briefly rising as you let out a moan escape when he pushes himself deeper through your heated walls. Mat hurriedly locks your mouth with his, swallowing all your moans before continuing with his case.

“That’s the point. We’re not that close so we shouldn’t be keeping anything from each other. You tell me everything. Good or bad, and I’ll do the same.”

You shoot him a questioning look, pushing him briefly so you could position yourself on top of him. Your action was very much well-received on Mathew’s end and it’s amazing how he’s able to lift you close to his torso before the two of you roll over the switch-game without letting his dick slip out of you.

“Are you saying we’re going to be in a relationship? You’re way over your head, mister.” you laugh because it was exactly what it sounded. At least for you.

Mat rolls his eyes as he takes a pillow to support his back. His hands then roamed from your thighs before settling to cage your hips to lock it with his, “First of all, bold of you to assume that’s ever gonna happen.”

You scoff.

“Second, it’s more of a mutual agreement and definitely less than a relationship.” he points out to reiterate that having said ‘relationship’ with you was the last thing he wanted.

Your hands take rest atop his chest as you start working on rocking your hips at a gentle pace; the kind that had Mathew at a loss for words for a moment, his body taking over his mind as your physique towers all over him. Mathew meets you halfway while you do most of the work. He angles himself forward so as to reach for your tits, his mouth latching on one of your buds, thirsty like a newborn child. Your fingers find their way to his tousled hair, its disheveled state unbelievably making him much more difficult to resist.

The two of you worked each of your own highs whilst you rock each other’s bodies. Exchanging moans and groans thrown carelessly throughout the room. You were all over Mathew as much as he was with you. His strong and capable hands that moved so well on your body, made you crave for more. Mathew took control of the pace now, his arms embracing your waist closer to his body that no amount of spatial space could ever be perceived by either of you.

“Come for me.” Mat orders, voice almost inaudible as he was chasing his own, the moment he feels you throb rapidly around him, fluttering like butterflies while he watches you shut your eyes. Just like that, you finally reach the ecstasy you’ve been longing for the whole night; one that was specifically shut down by Mathew’s stale mouth.

You let Mat take over. He orders you to turn your back against him before he pulls you rapidly close to his front, your ass perked up close to his skin. His mouth leaves fashioned bites on your neck whilst he held you firmly by your forearm. Mathew begins pounding on you hard from behind, his sharp and abrupt movements painting bruises you know will show up the next morning.

You were all over the place and you didn’t care. It was messy, it was loud. The sound Mathew’s lips leave on your skin, his balls banging against your pussy, your moans— his groans. Everything was off the record book but neither of you wanted to stop.

With one final thrust, you feel his body grow all the more rigid behind you. Mathew’s hand was wrapped firmly around your neck whilst he caught his breath.

“You good back there, bud?” you ask, chuckling.

“Oh, shut up.” he says, finally letting you go.

The two of you gather yourselves. Mat discards the wrapper and offers to clean up after the mess he’d made but you profusely decline.

“I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t have to take care of me.” you tell him with a strong suit as you begin picking up your clothes.

“I know–” he cuts himself off when he sees you getting into your pants, “Where are you going?” he questions.

“Rule four. No staying the night.” you point out, grabbing your sweatshirt from the floor. “You come to my room, I come to yours, but that’s that. No more, no less.” you add.

Mathew looks stunned. Obviously on board with how well you were taking things so easily.

“Alright then, buddy.” he strides his way towards his bed still naked.

“We don’t speak about any of this in the morning.” you warn him for you know how the three of you tend to leave the house almost at the same exact time as each other. Meaning that this new setup of yours is bound to be much difficult if you let anything slip off your hold.

Mathew runs his fingers on his lips as if to zip it before he jumps on the bed, already reaching for his phone that was on his bedside table so he could check the gram.

You were just on your way out of his door when he called you one last time, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, “What’s rule five?”

“No funny business.” you say at once. You look at him one last time with your own teasing smile to mock him from across the room, “No strings attached.” you say, repeating how he used the movie as a reference from a while back before finally disappearing into the hall.

𖥸

Who would have known agreeing to such a set up would mean getting laid almost every chance you get?

It had been a few weeks since you and Mat committed to your foolish escapades after sorting out your mutual agreement. Said escapades involve a handful of times of you driving over to the Coli to pick him up right after his morning skate and get off the back of your car. It wasn’t that big of a deal being that Mathew usually rides with Anthony for work. Of course, there were also times where you would call him into your office just to grab a quick lunch. On those times you always make sure to leave out at least half an hour or so before going home to avoid unnecessary suspicions from Tito and you and Mathew have been mindful so as not to let him notice anything.

Mat had mentioned how he was already looking for a place nearer to yours and Tito’s but farther than his previous complex. The place was half an hour less than the travelling time Tito had to drive to from when they used to ride together going home. And now that you were officially friends and more than just acquaintances, Mat has asked you to come and see the place with him.

You took a lift on your way to Mat’s and let’s just say, that for a man with a whopping 21M at his disposal, the building was grand but it wasn’t as boujee as you’ve expected. It might’ve been your lack of a better judgement but Mathew just didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who would be smart when it comes to his finances. You’ve always thought that he was the kind to splurge on things whenever he gets the chance. Although much to your surprise, just like everyone else, he was a simple man.

You knock on the door a few times before you hear the familiar footsteps nearing the front door.

“Hey,” a signature grin welcomes you. He opens the door wider and invites you in. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, I had better things to do, Barzal.” you retort as you start to scan the vicinity.

The flat had floor to ceiling windows so the surroundings were well lit. You were making your way further when you noticed a few sealed boxes laying around what you assumed to be where the living space was going to be.

“I thought you were just looking?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion whilst you look back at him, pointing on the storages with your thumb.

As expected, the entire apartment was painted in white and beige tones. Pretty much like every Islander’s home you’ve been to. It was quite spacious just like his former home. That being said, spacious doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good’ sometimes. For one thing, it didn’t feel home to you. It felt like a cage with huge-ass windows overlooking a scenery you can’t even lay your hand on. You keep your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to ruin Mat’s excitement for the place. Sure enough, it’ll all come together once he gets settled.

Mat walks towards you, taking a deep breath. “I was. But the offer was really good so I figured signing the lease right away would be a smart move.” he explains. When he sees your gaze trail off onto the boxes again, Mat feels the need to reassure you that he wasn’t going to move out of your apartment just yet.

“I won’t be moving in for another month or two, just to be clear. Those are just some stuff I didn’t want hogging all the space at home.” he says candidly pertaining to your apartment as his home, not even realizing the weight he had tied to his words.

You were quick to dismiss your own unsolicited thoughts and carried on with the semi-tour Mat was starting to indulge you with. “Are you sure you’re gonna live here alone? Feels like a whole penthouse up here.” you honestly say, half-laughing as you make way towards the hallway.

“Yeah. I mean, it would be great for when the team comes over.” he says as he follows your tracks. “The penthouse is actually two floors above mine though.”

You roll your eyes at his subtle remark, “Why’d you made me come here anyway?”

And as if Mat had remembered the task he originally had in mind, he walks right past you to lead the way. “I want your opinion on something.”

“Really? What is it?” you inquire, following after his footsteps. Mat stops and opens a door leading to what you assume is the master bedroom. Situated at the center of the fairly spacious room is a california king sized bed, waiting patiently to be slept on.

Mat looks back at you and says, “D’you think it’s any good?”

He lets you roam around the place, setting yourself down on the foot of the bed. “Bed’s nice actually.” you tell him and you stand at once to look more of his semi-furnished room.

“How nice is it exactly? Like, nice to sleep on or nice to not get any at all?” you turn around, rolling your eyes at his sleazy innuendos. “You’re such a tool. You really made me come all the way here to get me tied down this bed?”

Mat only answers with a shrug. An adorable one to be exact. “What? That’s what friends are for, y/n. Now, come on. Test the bed with me.” he says, taking your hand at once before you could even answer. He lets himself fall onto the bed as he caught your weight in his arms, your bodies dangerously close to each other, feeling your own body temperatures.

His hands roam around your clothed physique just as he starts to cage you in a well heated kiss. Your lips dance with his, letting his tongue slip whenever he gets the chance, nibbling on your tongue as the two of you enjoy exchanging your own take on what house warming gifts are supposed to look like.

Mat’s hands were already gripping on the curve of your ass when the sound of your and Mathew’s kisses were stopped by a sudden knock on the door. Your hand immediately trailed down from Mat’s nape to his chest, “Are you expecting someone?”, he thinks for a second, both of his hands still secured on your bottoms.

“Oh!” he gasps upon remembering who could it possibly be, “It’s probably my realtor. He’s picking some stuff up, I’ll go get it.” he says, propping himself up as a cue for you to get off of him.

“Would you mind getting the door? I’ll be quick, I promise.” he adds, looking back at you as he steps out of the room, heading for the other side of the hallway. He speaks in an apologetic tone, feeling sorry for having to cut off the purpose of your visit. So, in an effort to let him know he had nothing to worry about, you shake your head as you finish straightening the wrinkles off your work clothes.

“No, it’s all right, I got it.” you give him a reassuring smile.

You gladly make your way towards the door, not even bothering to look through the hole. You hand enveloped the cold metal, swinging the door wide open, leaving yourself not a chance at escape as soon as your eyes landed on those all too familiar big blue ones you’ve known all your life.

“Y/N?” a puzzled expression was all you could make out of Tito’s face. You tried stumbling for a few words in the hopes of calming your already racing heart impending to escape your chest at any moment.

“What are you doing here?” he asks in utmost bewilderment. You were still in shock being that you’ve never lied to Anthony before since he’s the only one you’ve told everything to most of the time. Having him here, clearly unexpected, has evidently thrown you off guard.

You maintain your gaze at him and throw the same question back, “What are you doing here?”

“Mat and I are going out with Mikey and Noah for drinks.” he answers quickly so he could throw the ball your way, “You didn’t answer me. I didn’t know you knew about this place already?” he furrows his brows, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his best mate.

“Uhm. Mat called me to discuss a few things. Showed me some stuff too.” you nervously say, tip toeing on the fact that what you just told him wasn’t entirely a lie. You open the door all the way and finally let him in. Your knuckles were wrapped hard around the cold metal knob, wishing that Mat would come out to the room to save your ass.

You must have gotten on a wrong foot and told Tito a lie that’s bound to invite more suspecting queries.

“Really? What stuff?”

His bed, where he was just about to defile me on.

Thankfully, Mat walks out the open room holding an envelope in his hand, immediately halting his tracks the moment he sees Anthony looking straight at him.

“Beau! What–” he tries to remain composed, but you know Tito would definitely pick up on something just by how pale Mat’s face was. Dead and cold like someone who had seen a ghost for the first time.

“What— am I doing here?” Anthony finishes Mat’s question just as he turns his gaze back at you. You try to avert his gaze but you figured it’s best not to. You need to go before him strong and level headed. The last thing you and Mathew want is to get caught in the act by no other than the last person you want to know about it.

“What?” He laughs, brushing Tito’s biting tone off. “I know why you’re here, silly.” he tries to search in his head momentarily, but when he takes long enough, Tito answers it for him. “Drinks, man. You texted me for drinks.”

“Oh– yeah, no. I knew that.” he breathes out an uneasy laugh.

“Why is Y/N here? I didn’t know you guys hung out? The last time I checked you can’t even last in the same room without slashing each other’s throats.” he smirks.

Surprisingly, Mat was fast enough to come up with quite a clever way to sway Anthony from his inkling suspicions. One that made sense, but not necessarily helpful in your end. “Psh. That?” Mat throws a hand towards your way, dismissing your presence in his unfurnished apartment, “She told me she needs money so I hired her to move my boxes for me. She even insisted on listing all the stuff I’ll eventually get rid of online.”

Anthony looks back at you, surprised that you didn’t go and asked for his help instead. “How much do you pay her?” he asks Mat again.

“Uh, five… ten bucks?” Mat scratches the back of his head and your face immediately falls to your palm.

“Ten?” he questions, glancing at you. “Don’t you have your own office and a secretary? What do you need the ten bucks for?” Tito’s tone was now getting more curious and Mat, just like he always was, was dumb enough to forget you were earning more than just ten bucks for a living.

“Did I say ten? I meant fifty— per hour.” Mathew takes it back instantly, following it with a lie that involves you asking him for a job because your publisher ordered you to for a book she wants you to sign for. Not that any of it made sense but at least Anthony seemed to have bought it. When you agree, Mat immediately takes Anthony in his arms as he guides him out to the door, snatching his coat resting atop his kitchen island.

Mat looks over to you once more, both of their bodies already at the other side of the door, “You did great today, y/n. I’ll write you a check in the morning!” he says pushing Tito, who was still asking questions, farther from the door.

Before Mathew disappears, he looks at you with his big doe eyes already thanking you for going along such a stupid make-up excuse. You roll your eyes as you watch him mouth a quiet ‘Sorry’, flashing his ever so gorgeous smile before him and Tito finally went on their way.

𖥸

You’ve gotten used to how lazy Mat and Tito are during their off days. They would rather stay at home and play endless video games with each other than spending it with something less dumb than their stupid Xbox. Luckily, today wasn’t like those days because you happened to have your free day as well. You all agreed to spend the evening binging the entire Fast and Furious franchise.

The three of you were cramped on the cloud couch. To put it in simply, you were sandwiched between two huge hockey players. Your back was leaning on Tito’s strong shoulders as it was laying just above your head. The huge bowl of half-eaten popcorn safely sits in between your middle, hugged by your stomach and your curled up legs, your sock-covered feet brushing against Mat’s thighs innocently. Almost as innocent as how you ignore Mathew’s hands creeping underneath the thick wool covering your body.

Alarmed at how dangerously close Mat’s creeping palm was to your inner thigh, you shot him a warning look which was, as expected, answered by a defensive, and seemingly harmless “What?” look on his face. You roll your eyes, cautious as to not make any sharp movements for the benefit of Tito. You shift your position, angling your body away from Mathew and towards the direction of the screen instead. You let your body sink in your best friend’s shoulder, clueless that your movement had just given Mat the exact opening he was hoping for.

With wide eyes, you give Mat’s thigh a firm nudge as carefully as you can, “Are you being serious right now?” you mouthed. Mat stifles a smirk and moves his hand away, keeping it to himself. You try turning your attention back to the television but somehow, Mathew’s actions left your mind wondering what he was about to do next.

Gently, you stir back to your original position, propping yourself from leaning against Tito.

“Hey, could you please fill this up for me?” you ask him nicely. Thankfully, Anthony reaches out for the bowl without letting his eyes break off the screen. “Thanks, Beau.” you add the moment he starts walking towards the kitchen.

“Why’d you stop?” you cautiously whisper, asking Mathew who was surprised by your sudden inquiry.

“I thought you didn’t want me to.” he answers on the same level of your tone, putting his hand back on your shin. The warmth of his palm sends a familiar sensation down your region.

Looking back at the archway leading to the kitchen, you quietly tell him, “I asked if you’re being serious. I never said no.”

Your candidness was met by Mathew’s widening smile, incapable of stopping himself from biting his lower lip, finding your bluntness quite adorable. “Be quiet.” he mutters as he clears his throat, eyeing Tito who was just returning from the kitchen holding a bowl full of popcorn fresh from the microwave.

“Thank you.” you say the moment Anthony hands you the bowl. You scootch over, making you a lot closer to Mat. Tito places his arm back over the couch, allowing extra space for you. Once you got yourself in a position comfortable enough to last for the remaining half of the movie, your mind flies away, briefly forgetting the exchange you and Mathew just had.

It was not even a full minute when you feel Mat’s very much capable hand start creeping underneath the thick cloth again. You swallow a giant lump in your throat, your senses already heightened just by the mere contact of his rough and calloused hand on your skin.

You were wearing a pair of sweat shorts, the kind that were loose enough to let Mat maneuver his way deeper down your thighs so effortlessly. You steal quick glances towards his way but to no avail, Mat’s eyes were nowhere else other than the screen. His fingers, however, told quite a different story.

You did the exact thing as him and put your sole focus on the movie. The sound of Anthony’s breathing was a good reminder to not let anything slip off of you unconsciously, especially now that Mat’s long fingers were inching its way to the thin fabric covered by your night wear.

Mat begins to brush his middle finger over your delicates. You bury a part of your face underneath the thick cloth whilst your eyes are still pinned on the screen. The scene where Dom goes rogue plays and the light of the television flashes before your eyes.

You tried to listen to Tito when he tells you about that time you went to the movies to see the film, trying to space out from Mat’s finger drawing idle circles on the thin fabric of your underwear, easing you just right, evidently taking his time fondling in between your clothed lips.

When he feels your moistness on his skin, Mat sophisticatedly slides a finger in your underwear just so he could feel the wetness of your folds.

You on the one hand, keep your face hidden under the only light flashing from the screen. You manage to choke down your whimpers and instead lean your force towards the bowl you’re holding. However, you fail to stifle a gasp when Mat slides a finger inside you, making you stir just enough to stop your sudden movement from being unnoticed by Beauvillier.

“You okay?” he asks, a concerned tone embracing his voice. You meekly nod, saying that you were just too caught up watching the film. He then takes his attention back, pretty much like the grinning Mathew sitting on the other end.

You shoot a knowing look when you meet Mat’s irises. He casually plays it off just as he remains busy on his own, his fingers curling inside you with ease, pumping in and out at a slow pace, not wanting to let any of his movements show on the surface of your blanket. As Mat continues pleasuring you, you gather all your strength to stay still and calm your breathing. To no prevail however, knowing how good of a fucker Mat was, you knew you won’t be able to hold it in longer than you’re supposed to.

Your heart almost beats right out your chest when Anthony’s phone starts to ring. You prop yourself up, causing Mat’s finger to do just the same inside you. You shut your eyes at the feeling and chose to clear your throat.

Anthony takes his phone and looks at the two of you, “I need to take this. Just watch the movie without me.” he says, already standing to head for the balcony at the other side of the room. You sigh in relief, letting yourself fall back on where Tito used to sit, allowing more space for Mat’s miraculous fingers.

He adjusts his seat, cautiously looking back after Tito’s track just to make sure he was no longer near the two of you. He looks at you, attention faltering from the screen as he slides another finger inside you.

“Don’t make a sound. Stay still.” he orders, pumping his way in just as he glides his thumb to massage your clit. Your hand takes rest on your forehead, your eyes closed at every pleasure thrown your way, almost forgetting that you were holding a bowl full of finger food on your stomach. Mat must’ve caught on and ensured no unnecessary noises would make Anthony come back just yet when he takes the bowl off your middle to set it down the coffee table.

“Fucking hell, Mat.” you can’t help but moan, arching your back once you feel your arousal come close.

“Do it, y/n. Come on my fingers.” he growls in a low register, moving his way into hitting the spot at just the right speed, not wanting to prolong your misery any longer.

You reach for his hands, your grip on him tighter than ever. Mat feels you come around his finger, eyes pinned on your spent up state harder than it was when the two of you were still watching the movie. When he feels your pulsating core starts to die down, he slips his fingers out your slit, eventually taking it in his mouth to suck your far too addicting juices.

You fix yourself up, eyeing Tito who had just ended his call. Mat looks at you, quite proud of himself.

“At least your fingers make up for what that pretty mouth can’t.” you say with a taunting smirk before standing up to get yourself a glass of water just as Beau finally comes back from the balcony, leaving Mathew with his mouth slightly agape and without a doubt dumbfounded.

𖥸

It was an hour before midnight but the house was already asleep. The boys had to call the night early because of the morning practice they have first thing tomorrow. But you still had some energy left so you figured drawing yourself a calming bath would help soothe your mind and maybe even up the chances of having yourself a well-deserved good night’s sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better and getting ready for bed, your bathrobe hugs your body whilst you finish off your night routine so you could finally dip into the comfort of your sheets, the cream white duvet calling onto you as you picture yourself dozing off for the night.

The strides you were just making out of your bathroom were put into a stop by how your door sprung open wildly, revealing one troubled Mathew Barzal entering your room almost a little too carelessly.

“What the hell did you mean my mouth can’t?!” he questions at once, hissing. When he realizes the sudden rise in his voice, (which has also startled you in the process), Mathew immediately looks back just to make sure that Anthony was in his room, or far enough to hear. He shuts the door behind him before he finally turns his attention back to you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask him, putting both your hands on your hips, your body covered by nothing else but a bathrobe.

“The thing you said back in the living room, my mouth can’t what? What the hell did that suppose to mean??” Mat roars like a child’s impending tantrum was about to come. You avert his gaze for a moment, scratching your temple. You couldn’t believe something you’ve said stuck to him. Not that he’d ever do anything about it. Something you most absolutely doubt.

“If you had to come here to ask me that, I’m pretty sure you already got what I meant.” you say, walking towards your bed as you get the bottle of your vanilla scented lotion from your bedside table.

“But all those times it looked like you were having a good time?” he speaks, voice in a lower register as if he was talking to himself all along.

“I was faking it Mat.” you finish off applying lotion on your legs, spreading the remaining on your hands. You met Mat’s gaze and saw that you might’ve tipped him off a little for there was a faint hurt in his eyes.

“You were faking it?” he repeats in a quiet voice.

“You’re still good in bed, buddy.” you assure him with a smile yet to no prevail, Mat didn’t seem to buy any of what you said thinking that it was just a decent effort to save his ego already plummeting to the pit of his own embarrassment.

“How many times have you been faking it?” he asks the moment he gathers his thoughts, his mind circling on the fact that all throughout this time he wasn’t able to get you off.

“You’ve only had the chance to do it twice. So… just those two.” you answer honestly.

Mathew, who was utterly clueless to what was going on didn’t know how to react to such bluntness. He tried to mutter a few words but he was speechless. All this time, he thought he was good at something he obviously wasn’t. And being told something as morally immobilizing as that shocks him to his very core. The horror of all the girls he’s slept with, walking out of his apartment unsatisfied befalls on him.

“You should’ve told me, otherwise this whole setup won’t make any sense, y/n. I thought you said we shouldn’t lie?” he questions, evidently disappointed in himself.

“Look,” you stop, tapping on the side of the bed to have a proper conversation. When Mat finally sits beside you, you continue, “I didn’t think it mattered. And no offense but we both know you’re such a sore loser. I didn’t know how you would react. And I definitely didn’t want to deal with any of the messy stuff just to feed your ego.”

“For your information, I’m a thick faced motherfucker, you should’ve known that by now. This thing between us is going to be complicated if you’ll tiptoe your way around it just to spare my feelings.” he says with certainty, a definitive tone accentuated by how intense he was now looking at your face, still glowing from your night care routine.

“Is there something I don’t do?” he adds, “Or is it something that I should stop doing?”

“Fine. If you really wanna talk about this I’ll tell you.” you angle yourself facing him and Mat does the same, “You’re not entirely bad. You do know your way around. It’s just that— you’re trying a little too hard and it gets really overwhelming at times. And mind you, it isn’t even the good kind,”

“Show me.” Mat cuts you before you could grab the chance to continue, stopping you mid sentence, causing you to stumble on a few words. “What?”

“I won’t leave this room knowing I can’t get you off.” he says, and just like that, Mathew meets your lips with an all too hungry mouth eager to make you come for him even if it takes having to have endless runs at it.

Your body achingly responds to every bit of Mathew’s kisses whilst you let him run the course. His touches are tantalizing, urging you to come near him. He takes you in his arms, one fondling on your robe to pull it free from your body, the other tugging lightly on your hair just as he begins to move his weight on top of you.

“Tell me what you want.” Mat breathes the moment he breaks away, his mouth now travelling down the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, leaving faint bites, nibbling on it just before he makes his way down to fondle on your breasts.

You answer him with a muffled moan when he takes your lips yet again. Mat’s irises unwaveringly gazes on your buck nakedness, your scent just enough to take over his senses. You feel the roughness of his hands graze all over your skin. Pinching on one of your buds just before it travels down your thighs, staying out of the place where he knew you needed him most. You feel him in every inch of your skin but there.

But just as you want him more, Mat purposely leaves it out of his hold. You begin to realize how much you must’ve underestimated what this forward could do. His hands were everything and you couldn’t even put into words how much you need him down there.

“Mat…” you call out his name, groaning. His featherlight touches flowed smoothly on your inner thigh, grazing just your lips but even that was more than enough to tell him how wet you already were for him.

He begins to leave wet kisses in between your breasts down to your stomach. Kisses that eventually made their way to your thighs as he inched his way to your core, the sloppy noise he makes sounds so beautiful in your ears. You look down on Mat trying to compose yourself under all the breathing he’s subtly passing your middle.

“What do you want?” Mat asks again, this time his doe eyes meeting yours, clouded with lust and desire. You buck your hips upward in an effort to meet his mouth but Mat was rather quick to put you back in your place when he cages your hips with his capable arm.

“Use your words, y/n.” he orders, one that has effortlessly made you oblige. You wanted to feel him more than anything else and if that meant submitting to Mat this time, you know full well you’d gladly break before him.

“I want you to get me off.” you surrender, signaling him to take the plunge. Once he did, you let out a whimper at his touch, almost forgetting that Mathew was probably doing this so he could eat out his future girl right.

“Don’t rush.” you breathed as you guided him, “Stay slow and steady.”

Mathew’s eyes never left yours even when you had to look away when you let your head fall back on your sheets with how well he was moving with everything you say.

“Mathew…” you moan, reaching for his hair to take him closer to your throbbing core, “Go on circles, please.”

Mat was obedient and followed your every command. Unlike the times he’s spent trying to pleasure you with his mouth, tonight was a time where he actually listened and gave you exactly what you wanted, exactly how you want it.

Mat didn’t have to do anything else for when he started to slip into your cunt and fuck you with his tongue, you going insane was more than enough to let him know that he was doing it right. He watched you fall before him, your chest heaving, your breathing rapid as if there wasn’t enough air for you to breathe. He entwines both his fingers atop your abdomen, the sound of you calling his name like a prayer doing all kinds of wonders on his end.

You meet his eyes yet again just to see that it never left. Mat looked at you darker than ever before and for once, you feel a firm tug in your stomach you just weren’t ready to acknowledge and care for. As he takes time with his final strokes, knowing that you were close, Mat pulls away, thinking about the one thing he knows will redeem himself.

“Turn around.” he orders with a grim voice. You were in dire need of an orgasm to even care about how he’s the one ordering you. You gladly oblige to his every whim and turned to your belly, your ass perked up so perfectly for him.

He lets your robe fall just above your back, revealing more of your skin for him to enjoy. He takes no second to waste and kneels before your already swollen pussy. Needy and very much heated for him.

Mat’s hands spread your cheeks before he takes you in his mouth once again, letting himself drown in your juices glinting under his all too heavy gaze.

“Oh, god.” you whine, feeling Mat’s grin behind you as you dig into your sheets while your legs begin to shake at your incoming orgasm. “Mat, please.” you call out in a whimper, pushing your ass back further his face.

Mat gladly takes the challenge but maintains at the pace you wanted. As he feels your pussy flutter in his mouth, he deepens it into yours to finally pour you with nothing else but ecstasy and ecstasy alone.

His face was filled with nothing but your juices once he pulled away, leaving you breathless and still caught up on meeting your high. He stands, a hand gripping on one of your cheeks whilst he admires the art that is: your all too spent pussy.

“Next time you lie, you won’t get to fake it at all.” he warns with a firm yet definitive voice masked as a taunting remark.

Mat looks at your still throbbing pussy, eyes lustful and dark. As much as he craved for the inkling fire resting in his loins, it was already past midnight and he had self-discipline stronger than anyone else’s. He couldn’t afford any more scolding from Anders the next morning.

So, even when he wanted nothing but to fuck you right then and there, he lets his hand send a message he certainly wants you to remember instead. One that has left a faint yet stinging mark on your skin. Your legs were practically still wobbling when he finally leaves for the door, this time fueled with the purpose of being the one leaving you dumbfounded in your own post-orgasm shame.

Perhaps, even wanting and more.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal smut #nhl smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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atlafan · 4 years

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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.

#the tutor #tutor!harry #hockeyplayer!reader #tutorry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #friends to lovers #college au #pls tag if you reblog #send me feedback too

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burning-clutch · 3 years

Text

If A Ghost Howls In A Forest…

cross posted to a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503925 Danny was hoping his time at a summer camp would be ghost-free, and well, of course not. When would things in his life ever NOT involve ghosts? At least he can hope to get some decent rest tonight, right? RIGHT? Warning: mild descriptions of death

-.-.-.-.-

Prompt by: KC Summer Camps is not complete without a courage test of walking to the haunted woods at midnight. Amity Park campers are weirdly prepared for this. Other campers are not sure how to deal with that

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a sort of initiation type of thing.”

“But WHY?!”

“For the spooks?”

“I’ll get the lipstick…”

“Wait what?”

Danny sighed as he watched Tucker neander off back to their cabin to fetch the Fenton lipstick ray, ignoring the looks of confusion that was shot his way from the other campers that he didn’t know from school. Dash and Kwan had thankfully been, well, not assholes the WHOLE time they had been in the camp. Though to be fair, it had only been a day in this week long fun filled… whatever this was.

Apparently, while things seemed to start out well they were told around the evening campfire and cookout, (which was mostly just them poking hotdogs on sticks and trying not to burn themselves when they ate them,) they were told about a tradition about the new campers being lead up to spend a few hours on their first night on a midnight hike through the ‘haunted’ woods.

Danny was the first to groan hearing this followed by Tucker. Even Dash and Kwan looked unamused as well as the random soccer player that Danny vaguely recognized from school.

To say the councillors were confused by the amity park kids’ reactions would be selling the gambit of expression the councillors had. Teenagers being put in charge of slightly younger teenagers, yeah, nothing could go wrong here, nothing at all…

Tucker came back and tossed Danny a wrist ray while tucking the lipstick he had retrieved into his shirt pocket. A boy from some small farming town an hour’s drive from the camp shuddered. “Haunted Woods? How are you not worried about dark haunted woods? Ghosts are in there!” he exclaimed.

“Cuz it’s just ghosts right?” The Amity soccer player shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean the story they told us said that right? Those hikers that got hurt and died in the woods still haunt it to this day” Kwan supplied with a roll of his eyes. The jock wiggled his fingers doing a decent impression of the box ghost with an even more intimidating “OoooOOOoooOO”

“Yeah, unless they’re gonna be sporting some cool gore this will be lame,” Dash added with a yawn. “Pass.” Dash waved the councillor off before trying to turn and head off.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to go on the hike. But those who skip out will have to endure the punishment tomorrow. If you wanna peel hundreds of potatoes tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn you’re welcome to head back…. We’re also going to label you as a coward too so there’s that.” One of the councillors says with a smug smile on their face.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like that?” A nervous looking twig of a boy asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Oh I won’t say anything on that matter” The second councillor, Jeff says. At least Danny thinks he remembers the name as Jeff. He should probably learn that given this guy was in charge of the cabin he was staying in, “It’ll be better to leave it as a surprise.”

The first councillor, a jock looking guy, built like a brick house with thick shoulders and neck but a tiny waist and legs looking very much like he needed a few more rounds on leg day, eyed the Amity group with a look as though he were going to try to take scaring them as a challenge. Danny looked the guy over, raising a brow when their eyes locked.

Great, he and Tucker looked like an easy target. He knew that look all too well having spent plenty of time being bullied as well as with angry ghosts who underestimated him. More fun tonight will be had by all he was sure.

“Don’t worry We’ll make sure you’ll get some proper spooks.” the brick house says with what Danny assumed the other thought was an intimidating grin.

Dash snorted. “Fenton’s probably the only one who’ll get scared of the ghosts out there. He runs away from all of them back home.”

“Have you seen my parents? Get too close to a ghost and it picks up some contamination you know exactly what they’ll do!” Danny spat back with a glare of his own only barely managing to stop his eyes from glowing in his rapidly souring mood.

The other kids at the camp blink in confusion. “Wait… You guys are from that tourist town that goes way too far with the ghost theme right?” asked a pale kid with brown hair.

“Oh please, that’s just a gimmick” Answered another kid who crossed his arms in a huff.

“It’s not a gimmick dude, we even have our own superhero!” Kwan answered.

“Uh-huh. Well you’re superhero ain’t gonna save you from the ghosts out here” Jeff shot back, crossing his arms. “Right, Tom?”

The brick house, Tom apparently nodded knowingly. “Yep, these ghosts are very dangerous and angry ya know..”

“So? It IS Monday,” Tucker offered flatly, earning a snort from the soccer player.

“Can we just… not do this?” A darker skinned nervous boy whined holding onto the arm of the brown haired kid reminding Danny of him and Tucker from two years ago before they got jaded from ghost attacks.

Kinda made him wonder what could have been…

“Nope we're going, so move,” Tom ordered taking up the place at the back of the line while Jeff took the place at the front.

Danny groaned. “Wonder if there will be any ghosts in there?” He wonders to tucker as they were all forced into a line for their ‘spooky’ hike.

“Maybe it’ll be one of Vlad’s abominations?” Tucker suggested.

“Honestly I wouldn't be surprised.” Danny sighed back with a frown. At least if it was a real ghost his ghost sense would alert him to the danger before they got too close.

They entered the treeline and started heading up a hill and towards the supposed site where the hikers had fallen and gotten trapped by a rock or something falling on them. Their legs were broken and crushed and stuck in place, they apparently died unable to get food or drink and unable to free themselves alone, and not able to scream loud enough for help. They still haunt this area… apparently.

Danny had to admit while the tragedy would be able to spawn a ghost but he also doubted there was one sentient around here if there was a ghost at all. He couldn’t sense very high ectoplasmic concentrations around here. Any ghosts that weren’t purely animalistic in nature wouldn’t last long out here without a boost of ecto-energy.

Which means if there was an animal ghost, that boost of energy could come from attacking humans or eating things as animals tend to do... Again attacking humans but instead of feasting on their emotions, well it’s just getting mauled.

More than anything it meant that if there was a malevolent ghost out there that they would have to be on their toes, and Tucker would have to run interference to make sure no one sees Phantom this far from Amity Park.

Well, at least none of the Amity park residents see Phantom this far from Amity.

As they walked up towards the crescent of the hill they noticed it was significantly colder, though it wasn’t a ghostly cold, at least those from Amity knew it wasn’t. The other kids though?

“Oh, man… Why is it so chilly?!” “You think that means the ghosts are close?” “No way man stop saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s probably the river,” Tucker said simply, pointing to the side where there was a winding stream just below the side of the hill. “The way the winds are blowing it’s cooling this area more.”

Danny smirked at his friend's explanation. It was a neat trick sure, but it wasn’t enough to scare the Amity kids. Frowning but not discouraged, the councillors led their troupe up and around towards a cave that was making a moaning noise every time the wind blew.

“They say this is where the hikers were killed, just at the mouth of this tunnel looking for shelter,” Tom says smirking, enjoying the shudders some of the younger teens were giving at the howls of the tunnel. “If you listen you can hear them screaming still.”

“The wind in the tunnel opening?” Kwan asked helpfully.

“No, it’s the howls of the damned.” Jeff encouraged

“And if you look close enough you can sometimes make out the glowing soul of their spirits,” Tom added ignoring the Amity jock.

“Oh neat! I didn’t know they had Panellus stipticus in this area!” The soccer jock said overly happily.

“Dude, when did you become a nerd.” Dash huffed out teasingly.

“I’m studying Bio to get into Uni for Mycology. Dude mushrooms are totally awesome.” Came the smug reply.

“You would know Kevin” Dash snapped back

“Moving on!” Tom called out before shooing the kids away. This was not going according to plan at all… Why are these Amity kids so prepared for this?! Well, hopefully, the next bit will get them…

As they round the cave towards a small rocky outcropping the councillors do their best to draw the younger teen’s attention towards the crevasse where there was supposedly still a shoe from one of the deceased hikers. “If y’all look hard enough you’ll find it I’m sure~,” Jeff told them.

Frowning the kids shined flashlights down into the ditch looking about before one kid called out, “I found a shoe!”

As they did several things happen at once. There was a roaring sound of pain before someone came bolting out of the woods with yellow and green glowing spots all over them. Tucker raised a brow but side-eyed Danny who shrugged.

The Amity kids watched in more confusion than fear as the ‘ghost’ ran out of the woods towards them and took a swipe at one of the youngest teens in their group. “So that’s your ghost? Lame.” Dash huffed out arms crossed. “It’s not even the right colours.” he added with a wave of his hand ignoring the screeching of some of the other kids who were clearly more startled by the ‘ghost’ than he was.

“So, can we go now?” Danny asked with a yawn as the ghost, or really one of the councillors with broken glow stick goo all over them came close to him with an ‘oooooOOOOoooo’

“You guys really didn’t even flinch?!” the ‘ghost complained.

“Oh hey, there you go now THAT looks more convincing.” Someone says just as Danny’s breath fogged a bit before his face.

The halfa looked to where his ghost sense had pointed him to see a big giant green drooling monster beast glaring at the humans towering over the majority of even the tallest in the group. “Yeah, that looks more like a ghost! How’d you do that?” The soccer player said, (Danny really needed to learn his name)

Tom and Jeff and the ‘ghost’ that was harassing Danny all yelp and take a few steps back while the non-Amity kids scrabble and scatter back the way they came.

“No he’s real,” Danny offers with a sigh of exasperation. “Here Cujo down!”

The beast barked and wagged its tail before shrinking down and giving a yip of delight before rushing over to Danny, legs never fully touching the ground as he flew over to the boy.

“Heel! Sit!” Danny calls out stopping the dog in its tracks before the beast could cover him in glowing green slobber.

Cujo did just that sitting practically on Danny’s feet and wiggling his tail so fast it made his butt jiggle back and forth in the effort. The teen sighed and scooped the wiggling beast up into his arms with little effort, mostly due to the fact that ghost dogs only weigh half of what their flesh and bone counterparts would.

“Figures Fent-freak would have a freaky ghost dog” Dash taunted crossing his arms though when Cujo growled, Dash’s smug smile fell.

“Tha-That’s?” Jeff stammered out, pointing a shaking finger at the wiggling green bean in Danny’s hands.

“A typical Amity park ghost yeah,” Danny replied with a grin. “So it's cool if we call this hike a night I’m kinda hoping to get some sleep, that’s kinda why I wanted to come here to catch up on that more than anything…” Danny admitted the last part a little quieter as he put Cujo back down.

The councillor nodded dumbly, moving back away from the teen and the ghost dog, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bolt when Danny picked up a stick and threw it for Cujo to fetch.

“Awe man I think I stepped in Fen-turd’s dog’s invisible crap!” Dash complained as they all started moving back, Cujo yipping as he came back with the stick giving a snort at Dash before loyally following alongside Danny and phasing through trees as they walked.

Seeing this, Tom decided that it would be best if he hurried back to the cabins to get them ready for the new campers. Yes, That’s exactly what he’s doing…

“Dude you can’t seriously be thinking of keeping Cujo around here he’ll destroy the camp,” Tucker muttered to Danny watching the little pup chase its tail as he followed them.

“Eh, It’s not really fair to keep him in the thermos for the week. Besides I’m sure I can use this guy to get you that extra helping of bacon you wanted.” Danny bribed his friend.

Tucker’s eyes light up and he grins brightly “Cujo here boy! Come see the T-man!”

Danny rolled his eyes, but so long as that was the only ghost they encountered out here, he might actually have a decent week of sleep ahead of him.

He can only hope.

Besides, using Cujo as a threat to Dash sounded like as good a plan as any, and if the councillors were too scared to go near the ghost dog that they would let him sleep in, all the better for him.

Danny smirked, perhaps camp wouldn’t be so bad after all~

-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete Total: 2363

#phic phight 2021 #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #camp fun #Danny is done with ghosts #he just wants to sleep

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caffernnn · 3 years

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fic idea: haru going away for a few weeks for a competition and makoto has been missing him so much but he sees him on tv really happy and decides to finally give up on his romantic feelings towards haru because /he'll never feel the same/. He accepts to date someone in his uni or something and when haru is back and finds out he goes APESHIT. Jealous!Haru is my favorite, what can i say

Okay now THIS could be a whole long fic (I think I’ve read a fic or two similar to this w/ Makoto trying to “move on”) but it hurts my heart too much to map out that angsty dialogue, so here are some loose ideas:

- Makoto loves his best friend and knows that a part of him always will, in some capacity. Loving Haru is a natural thing weaved so tightly into his identity that there are traces of their friendship in almost everything he does. It’s in the way he makes himself breakfast that doesn’t burn; it’s in the way he draws haphazard doodles alongside his college notes; it’s in the way he mentors kids at his job and reminds them how the water can be an accomplice in cultivating some of the greatest friendships they’ll ever have. He loves Haru, doesn’t regret holding him close over the years for even a second, and tries to convince himself that his daydreams of a new type of relationship with Haru aren’t all that important when he’s been lucky enough to have all of this. Makoto loves him enough to be so proud of Haru, his best friend who is utterly determined and belongs to a world beyond the small one they shared in Iwatobi. Haru’s happiness has always been enough for him, hasn’t it? It’s enough, and he can’t ask for more, even if there are some nights where the distance leaves his chest burning and his apartment too hollow.

- Haru’s back in town after a few long weeks of training camps leading into competitions. He’s excited to meet up with Makoto and have a lazy day together in his apartment. They’ve kept up with each other between scattered texts that became even more scarce in the last week or so. Haru hoped he was overthinking the shift in their communication — he wasn’t the best texter as it was, and maybe Makoto had been busy. They’d be fine once they could see each other again. His heart was coming home and he’d enjoy the peace before being whisked back into his demanding schedule.

- They reunite and things are both happy and familiar until Makoto mentions that his study group invited him to a mixer that night. He didn’t expect much to come of it really, but it wouldn’t hurt to put himself out there, right? Haru was struck by how the casual way Makoto stated his plans, like they were nothing at all, did not match up at all with the torrential storm of emotions swirling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t think he was possessive; he knew Makoto drew people in and he was happy that Makoto was comfortable enough to hang out and make friends between classes and his job. However, there was something about the way Makoto texted him less, the way he made plans to override their time together, and the way he did all of this and acted like nothing was different that had Haru feeling like he was being pushed away by the tide.

- Makoto meets up with Haru the next day and asks about Makoto’s night. He can’t help but notice how somebody’s been texting him all morning. Makoto reveals that one of the guys there was a year further into the same program Makoto was in and offered to meet up and help him study for some of the harder classes over lunch sometime. Haru was decidedly having none of that and some of his old insecurities flared about being left behind. He tries to not let his jealousy and heartache show because he knows it isn’t fair to assume anything, doesn’t even know what he’s assuming, hardly knows what he wants or what to do about it—

- but Makoto notices Haru becoming closed off because of course he does. He pushes for them to sit and try to talk through whatever’s going on because he only gets so much time with his best friend nowadays and doesn’t want to spend those fleeting moments hiding from each other. Haru doesn’t know the best way to put the mess in his head into words, but he feels starting out with “do you miss me when I’m not around” perhaps wasn’t it.

*insert painfully vulnerable conversation where Makoto tries to figure out what he was doing wrong to make Haru feel this way that somehow leads to Makoto fessing up how important Haru is to him in a borderline confession*

- Haru can see enough in Makoto’s waffling to realize there’s an extra layer to the way he says he cares because it resonates with his own pining to a T. He also senses a sad sort of resignation in the way Makoto looks at him, almost like him caring for Haru so much makes him a burden, and Haru realizes he’s going to have to be brave for the both of them to fix it. Haru tries to dig up the words for his own confession, reassuring Makoto that he wants him by his side and is loved something fierce. Makoto wants to accept it but is still so scared, wondering “if I said I was in love with you, would you still want me around” (Haru loses his marbles a bit and asks Makoto out as a response)

- BOOM they’re dating now and Makoto catches onto Haru’s jealousy when he brings the study date back up. Makoto meets with the guy at the library and if Haru introduces himself before doing his own work right alongside them, well...

#maybe should’ve just written the fic kfjfndjs #jealous!Haru can be fun sometimes #timeline for building up angst could’ve been more of a slow burn #but I just wanted to outline the juicier bits in the timeline #also couldn’t write Makoto on an actual date with someone else because I’m weak #sorry not sorry about that one #long post #makoharu #ask games #thanks for asking!!#anonymous #fic ideas

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Teen Tracys

Muse is on a roll today, it seems (and I even managed to get some uni work done!). From a conversation with @janetm74 that started over a discussion about punk!teen Virgil with a green mohawk and Eco-Warrior!teen Gordon and snowballed into, well, something a bit like this.

Random, has not been particularly polished, and I threw in a time skip rather than deal with the serious conversation. Might write that later.

For ages, we’ve got Scott at 21, John’s 19, Virgil’s 17, Gordon’s 13 and Alan’s 9. Three teenagers in the house; uh oh.

Scott loved his brothers. Really, he did. But sometimes, they were just too much. Big brother just didn’t hold the same weight as parent, no matter that he’d helped to raise all of them, and every so often his little brothers remembered that.

“Gordon, no.”

The thirteen-year-old, decked out in nothing but recycled greens, glared up at him with all the self-proclaimed righteousness a teenager could summon. It was a lot.

“Do you know how much pollution is still being pumped into the oceans?” he demanded, not at all cowed by the fact he barely reached Scott’s chest. “They finally stopped all the fossil fuel in the 2020s, and plastic was entirely phased out by 2030, and then the world gave itself a nice pat on the back as though that fixed everything!”

Scott had heard this tirade before. Many, many, times before.

“Yes, Gordon, I know. Preservation of the oceans is important and that’s why this family – and Tracy Industries – does its bit to make sure nothing goes in there that shouldn’t, and is why you take part in charity events to continue to spread awareness. I know.” He didn’t have a problem with any of that, either. No, what he had a problem with were the rallies.

Charity work? Fine. More than fine.

The rallies? Not for an unaccompanied thirteen-year-old boy, and Scott knew they often involved illegally sabotaging places that still produced pollution. No matter how well-meaning Gordon was, it was Scott’s duty as big brother and guardian not to let him get tangled up in that.

“Clearly you don’t know if you think that’s enough!” Gordon retorted, and Scott sighed.

“Gordon, I know more needs to be done, but it needs to be done legally, and not result in you getting thrown in a lockup, okay? You’ve got that charity dinner with Lady Penelope next weekend, remember?”

“I can do both!” Gordon protested. “Scott, I have to go! It’s important for the planet!”

“Well it’s important to me that you don’t end up-”

Bright green in his periphery killed the rest of the sentence as he turned his head to see his normally sensible, reliable brother looking anything but.

“Virgil, you are not going out looking like that.”

“I can go out looking however I want, Scott.” Seventeen years old and the teenage attitude Gordon was showing seemed to have infected his next oldest brother at last. Virgil had been such a quiet, low-effort teenager – even more so than John, whose rebellion had been entirely digital and Scott was quite frankly afraid of what he might have done – until now.

Now, the punk phase had hit, and apparently the colour of the day was green. Vibrant, radioactive touch-me-and-die green. In a mohawk.

Scott tried to be the supportive big brother, he really did, but there were lines and the all-leather ensemble complete with mohawk and numerous piercings were pushing it. Worst of all was the noise-maker he called a trike that he’d gone and bought last week despite being explicitly told not to. That had crossed the line. There had been much shouting. Virgil refused to return it, and spent more time in the garage tinkering with it than with his family now.

Gordon considered it an affront, and Scott wasn’t entirely certain it wasn’t going to be a target for the so-called rally if Gordon managed to join it.

“Virgil, please.”

“I want green hair!”

They’d caught Alan’s attention. Great.

“No, Alan. You are not dyeing your hair green.”

Realising both green-themed brothers – if for two very different reasons – were both trying to slip out while Alan played distraction, Scott backed up to the front door and blocked it with his body.

“Virgil did!”

“And if his hair dye ends up in your hair, his entire new ensemble is heading straight for the recycler,” Scott growled. Three little brothers, all at once. It was enough to give him a headache. Gordon shifted, a shift that meant trouble, and he remembered the current household feud. “Gordon, if Virgil’s hair dye ends up in Alan’s hair, no more charity events until you’re eighteen.”

“But Scott!”

He didn’t even care which of the three said it. It could have been all of them. Why couldn’t they go through teenage rebellion from the sanctity of their bedrooms, like John did?

“I wouldn’t say green’s your colour anyway, Allie.” As though summoned by Scott’s thoughts, the fourth little brother materialised. Finally, some sanity- “how about we try black, or a dark blue, to match space? Maybe Virgil can help make it a galaxy?”

“John!”

Betrayal. Betrayal of the highest order, but Scott refused to get dramatic about it because he had three drama queens in the house already and that would only encourage them. Even if the smirk John sent his way made him want to throw something. Or scream.

Or both.

With four brothers ganging up on him – two because they’d hit the rebellion phase, one because his brothers were, and one just because he could – Scott knew he wasn’t going to win this with his sanity intact.

“Alan, no, you are not dyeing your hair any colour. Gordon, you are not going to that rally. Virgil, you are not going out like that. John, if you’re not going to be helpful, scat.”

“But Scott!”

That was all four of them. In chorus. If half of them weren’t feuding he’d think the whole thing was choreographed. Looking at John, he still wasn’t convinced the ginger genius hadn’t managed to orchestrate it. He was still smirking.

Scott needed to pull out the big guns.

“If you four won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to Grandma.”

The woman was in the garden, taking a well-deserved nap away from five grandsons. Scott didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew when he was beaten. Two brothers, he could handle. Three, tough but doable. Four, when one was deliberately stirring the pot? Even Scott had limits.

Any hopes he might have had that the mere threat would be enough died when three defiant – and one amused, damn you, John – faces stared at him.

He pulled out his phone, gave them one more moment to change their minds of their own accord, before making the call.

“Scott?”

“Sorry to interrupt you, Grandma, but can you come back inside?”

“On my way. What have the trouble-makers done this time?”

Scott gave her a brief rundown, interspersed with varying levels of protest from each brother as it reached their turn. By the time he was done, the woman was inside the house, regarding all five of them.

Three faces were starting to quail. Alan in particular looked on the verge of tears, but no teenage rebellion was stopping Virgil being a Grandma’s boy and even Gordon had a healthy respect for her tongue. John continued to look far too smug, and Scott’s internal alarm bells were ringing.

Still, Grandma was here now. Grandma would sort his brothers out and Scott could get a blissful half hour – maybe even an hour, if he was lucky – without some sort of sibling drama.

“Well, I’m not seeing any problems here.”

What.

Grandma walked straight up to Virgil and started plucking at his jacket, deftly dodging the metallic spikes as she adjusted it on his shoulders. “When I was your age, it was all pink. Pink leather, pink hotpants.” She winked in Scott’s direction and the urge to scream bubbled up in his chest. “I dyed my hair to match.”

At least his brothers seemed to be as dumbstruck as him about that, even if Scott was watching his last bastion of support crumble before his eyes.

“Your Grandpa had the most amazing Harley,” she continued. “Ooh, what a beauty. Such a smooth ride. He really knew how to treat a girl, your Grandpa.”

Nope. Absolutely nope. Scott needed brain bleach, and an escape from the madhouse, preferably before he screamed.

With a hoarse yell that was only a yell, and not a scream at all, he yanked the front door open, all but ran through it, and slammed it so hard a shingle slid from the roof.

He stared at it for a moment before surging into a run, past the garage and that damn trike, over the front gate, and headed straight for… who cared, as long as it was away. Right then, the house could collapse or burn to the ground for all he really cared.

Scott tried to be tolerant, he tried to be fair to all of his brothers, but sometimes it was just too much to handle.

***

“Scott?”

He’d ended up sitting in a tree after running all through the woodland until his legs burned. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to stop his grandmother finding him when she wanted to.

“Are you ready to come home, dear?” she called up. He sighed and let his head thud against the trunk.

“Am I going to be ganged up on by my brothers over stupid things if I do?” he asked. “Because I think I’ve had enough of that.”

“Your brothers and I had a nice long chat, and we’ve put some new house rules in place,” she told him. “Gordon has agreed no more rallies and Alan no longer wants his hair dyed.”

“And Virgil and John?” he asked warily.

“Virgil has agreed not to provoke Gordon any more, but you two need to talk about policing each other’s clothes, young man.” Scott winced. “As for John, he knows he went too far, but just like with Virgil, you are going to have to talk to each other like the reasonable young men you are.” There was no reproach in her tone, but Scott felt scolded all the same.

He didn’t want to go home, but if Grandma was promising no more carnage… Scott could never bring himself to leave his brothers for too long. Reluctantly, he eased himself out of the tree, swinging from the last branch to the ground below.

“I know you don’t like what Virgil’s done to his hair,” Grandma said, looping her arm through his. “But remember it’s his hair, not yours.”

“It’s not that,” Scott admitted. “He can do what he wants with it; it’s that trike. He can’t wear a helmet with his hair all spiked up like that!”

“Then you should tell him that’s why you disapprove.” Grandma was, as always, full of logic. “None of you boys can read minds, you know. You have to talk to each other.”

“I know,” Scott sighed. “Sorry, Grandma, I messed up.”

“You’re just worried about them.” She squeezed his arm fondly. “They’ll appreciate it when they’re older.”

“Will they?”

“They’re not the first teenage boys I’ve raised,” she reminded him. “There’s nothing you and your brothers have done that your father and uncle Lee didn’t do already.”

“…Even the punk mohawk?”

“I still have the photos.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #grandma tracy #teen tracys #thunderfluff

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emilx311 · 4 years

Text

Life Update

Hey all, so I pretty much vanished off the internet for the past few months (whoops sorry about that) but things have been crazy irl! Here’s a bit of a summary for those who were wondering what happened to me:

So, for context sake a few fun facts about me. I work as a night auditor at a hotel and have done so since August 2019, I graduated Uni with a degree in Justice Studies in 2018, and I have several minor but chronic health issues that lead to me being very low energy-ie having less spoons than a normal person and needing more sleep.

Aside from the issues already inherent with 2020′s....everything we had several more personal issues at my (I say my because I work there) motel. Mainly around staffing, and especially around night audit staffing.

Since I was hired we’ve gone through 5 or 6 other night auditors (I think? maybe more). And they often.....quit with barely any notice. So, being our only consistent night auditor I’ve been called in last minute several times over the past year leading to 6 or even 7 day weeks. (Not Fun!)

Even when we have had another trained night auditor with us they often also do day shifts since we only need them for 2 nights a week. Turn over for day-shift people has been barely lower than turn over for night shift, which has led to them having to be called in last minute to cover day shifts when people left which means I also had to be called in last minute to cover the night shifts they were no longer able to do, leading to us all working 6 or even 7 day weeks (Super Not Fun!)

In summary: I’ve worked more overtime days than I have had vacation days in this last year. Heck, the last time I tried to go on vacation for like 5 days I got called in every other day and my boss (our regional manager) paid me double for the shifts I worked and refused to touch my vacation pay because even he acknowledged that was in no way a real vacation at that point (this was at the beginning of September btw...)

This was all compounded when our general manager (gm) left in late July. Her reason for leaving was super fair since she got a better job offer, similar pay to what she was making, less work since she would no longer have to do all the duties our boss should have been doing but was instead pushing off unto her. Super sad to see her go but wished her the best (still miss her) :(

This left our under manager (gsm) and me as the main people in the hotel (ie those who have been there the longest, only the gsm and housekeepers had been there longer than I had at that point-and I had not even reached my 1 year yet). Which, not super great, but the other people we had were okay so we would manage. So the gsm and I held things together and started basically running the hotel (shout out to the gsm here because I love her and she is actually like 5 years younger than me but has accomplished so much more, I am in constant awe of her tbh). Our boss (who is....kind of dumb sometimes) realized this. We became his golden girls (he plays favorites hard).

It is at that point that someone above our boss’s level in the company (he’s in charge locally, but we do belong to a large corporation, ah capitalism) hired disaster #1 as our first new gm. Disaster #1 was creepily cheerful and utterly dismayed to find out his job actually involved him doing work! Like working at the front desk during his shifts and doing manager stuff instead of it just being him sitting in the back looking important and giving us encouragement occasionally. He payed no attention to his training. He did very little of his basic work let alone the manager stuff. He took credit and praised “the team” whenever something went right and pushed blame off him unto everyone else as hard as he could when something went wrong (I once pointed out he forgot to do something and he legit said to me “can you prove it was me?” I said “yes” very firmly.)

Now, as the auditor my job is to spot, point out, and fix errors. He hated coming in to to work after me because I spotted and pointed out everything he missed or did incorrectly. At first just because I happened to notice them. Then it became personal, he cornered me one morning at shift change and told me that he dreaded coming in to work after me because I was always so critical, and he had so much to do during his shifts other than just front desk stuff (he did not, most of the “manager” stuff he was even trained in doing at this point he shoved off unto the gsm) he then disparaged the gsm. I was done, I was pissed (you do not say mean things about my gsm, nope, not okay, I will cut and slab you*) and kind of hurt (why are you taking my corrections as personal attacks? Why are you saying I’m mean for doing my job?) So, if he wanted to make it personal I decided to make it personal and made it my mission to find and point out everything he did wrong, no more overlooking small things as I had been. The pressure of actually having to work made him quit (shocking, not!).

It was also around this time that I signed up for an LSAT prep course. Because I hate myself and now that I’ve been working for a couple years and have some money saved up I want to follow through on my plan to get either a Law Degree or a Masters Degree and so am working on taking the LSAT and applying to law schools. No, studying has not been going well, time and energy have also been preventing that.

Fast forward a couple months and 2 of our best employees went on holiday (one they had scheduled months before). It’s the start of January, they will be gone for two months. In that time our boss had hired our next gm, idiot #2. Just as these two leave the other front desk person we’d been training quits with no notice. We are short staffed....again (yay more 6 and 7 day weeks, ack). To fill in this gap our boss brings in idiot #3 from one of the other 2 hotels in the area our company owns.

Idiot #2 is semi okay, he is not manager material, even months after he was hired to be gm he does not have the training and is basically just a front desk agent. He is bad about doing things himself unless you specifically direct him to with very clear instructions, but he can do the minimum (although he failed the coffee test. After idiot #1 I wrote out very, VERY specific instructions for how to clean our coffee station....he is not able to follow them. The gsm and I joked about the coffee test after I first wrote the instructions, that someone actually failed it....we despair). So, he does not think ahead, do any extra, or solve many problems but at least he rarely creates problems.

This brings us to idiot #3. I do not know what goes on in his head (very little likely) but man oh man. Some examples: the time he-after being asked like 4 times-actually sign off on the checklist after cleaning the laundry room (as everyone is supposed to once a shift) but did so in sharpie instead of one of the many dry-erase markers left around the front desk for no other reason than the clearly laminated sign off sheet. Or the time he decided on his own to give someone a satisfaction refund, far larger than it should have been (which only managers and those with special permission can do in any of the hotels, so he should know better but somehow....)

We have a book for front desk to write messages on about issues for the next people. Usually we have a note or two on any given day. Pretty much every day he worked it was full and even going onto the next page. Idk how, it’s like he touched something and issues sprung up. and Guess who got to be the one to fix all of them (woooo).

For the past few weeks I have had 2 days a week where the only people who worked were me and idiots #2 and #3. It’s been horrible. In addition, my days off were changed for these months so I haven’t been able to meet my one bubble inclusive friend to vent like we usually do once a week, because that time no longer fit in my schedule. I have been living in exhaustive hell for the past couple months, and even before that as I tried to lighten the gsm’s load as much as I could as she took on a lot of the gm stuff. My house is a mess, tbh my life is a mess because work has left me so tired and stressed that I basically get home, shower, collapse onto bed, read a bit, sleep, wake-up, find some sort of food, get ready for work, go to work, and repeat. Even on my days off I’m sleeping 75% of the time and resting to try and shore up my spoons (of which I already have fewer than most people) to get through the work week.

tl;dr Due to ridiculousness I ended up unofficially co-running a hotel and it’s sucked up so much of my energy that all my free time is pretty much spent sleeping just to ensure I’m able to get through my work weeks semi-functionally. Everything about my life has been a mess, to the point where I’m legit not sure how I’ve been keeping myself fed, clean, on meds and just generally....alive.

#personal #emi says #life update #about my 2020 and early 2021 #it's been hell #and not for the usual reasons #no #I'm not okay #but that's fine #that's pretty normal at this point tbh

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sunshinejins · 4 years

Text

if i was dying on my knees (you’d be the one to rescue me)

(title from brother by kodaline)

so, hi! jatp has reignited my desire to write again and this time i think i might actually finish a whole fic. so uh, here it is :) please let me know if you like it, I’ll hopefully update asap, but i’m in uni so asap may be in like two weeks. unless people really like it. then, probably sooner lmao.

pairing: julie molina x luke patterson

fandom: julie and the phantoms

warnings: death bc rose, and i swear once but other than that i think nothing else?

Julie didn’t want to be frustrated, she really didn’t. In fact, she wanted to be sad, mourning, depressed, or literally anything other than slightly pissed off all the time. It’s incredibly exhausting to be angry all the time, and she felt like being sad would at least give her blood a break from simmering.

But her mom died. And apparently her body only knows how to process grief by developing a rather annoying tendency to be irritated constantly.

She tries to forget it though. Instead of wallowing in the negative feelings that cloud her family in the months following Rose Molina’s death, she throws herself into distractions. She gets a job at a coffee shop near the USC campus and puts almost all her effort into becoming a top employee. Her grades don’t drop because thankfully her professors seemed to all inherently understand that she just couldn’t sing anymore. Like at all.

The world kept spinning. Julie could only hope to hold on.

That’s how she ended up, six months later, complaining over a milk frother about her very well-intentioned best friend to the only person she knew would listen.

“Flynn just doesn’t understand,” Julie moans, shutting off the machine and dumping the contents unceremoniously into a to-go cup. Her coworker, Allison, raises an eyebrow and swipes a rag at the milk spill that pools under the cup.

“Did she try to get you to sing again?”

“Surprise karaoke night with her girlfriend and a couple kids from class. Her intentions were pure though so I don’t even know why I’m upset.” Julie shoves a lid onto the cup and slides it across the counter to a pre-occupied businessman who doesn’t notice the extra milk soaked into the bottom. Allison nods thoughtfully and starts dumping coffee beans into the espresso machine. Julie watches her with slight awe. Allison was one of those people that terrified Julie when she met her; everything about her felt polished and put together down to the blunt cut of her pale blonde hair and the curve of her smirk when she smiled. Soon enough, Julie discovered that she was as warm as any of her other friends, but it had taken a lot of closing shifts and smoothie runs to come to that conclusion.

Allison sets down the bag of coffee beans and gives Julie one of her solemn looks; it’s the sort of look where Julie thinks Allison could probably read her mind if she tried hard enough.

“Maybe they’re going about it wrong. You haven’t been around music properly in what? A year? What if you just need to sit and listen to music again to just get you used to the environment?” Julie thinks for a moment. Allison raises a fair point, and it’s the complete opposite tactic that everyone else has been trying, which has been to shove music in front of her to sing and give her expectant and hopeful looks. It’s a trial run. Something casual.

“Where would I go?” Allison smiles a bit and passes Julie a container of oat milk to put away.

“There’s a bar off Sunset that’s hosting an open mic tonight. Very relaxed and casual vibes. I could pick you up from your apartment and take you. We haven’t hung out since that movie night a while ago.” Julie hesitates. It’s not that she’s opposed to spending a night with Allison, but a small part of her feels like she’s cheating on her current circle of emotional support humans by agreeing to go. Not that her dad or Carlos or Tia would mind, but Flynn would possibly take offence and that alone stalled Julie for longer than she realized. Allison clocks the look on her face and amends the statement.

“Flynn is obviously welcome too.”

A mind reader, Julie swears.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”

***

Julie’s feeling significantly less optimistic when Allison’s car has been driven away by the valet and herself, Flynn, and Allison are all standing in line outside the club. Julie can feel the bass of the songs playing more than she can hear them, but the proximity of music is enough to make her palms sweat. Other than the music the coffee shop plays and the strains of country she hears through Carlos’ wall, Julie hasn’t heard proper music since Tia Victoria sang “Amazing Grace” for her mother’s funeral. Flynn notices her nervous look.

“Chill, Jules. It’s all very chill. We’re just gonna listen to a couple bands.”

“Flynn’s right. And if at any point you want to bail, we can go get soft pretzels.”

“But we should try and stay for the whole thing!”

“However, we’re also going to respect you if you can’t do that,” Allison punctuates this sentence with a meaningful eyebrow raise and Flynn nods vigorously. Julie swallows and tries to mimic the courage she had a few hours ago. The bartender scrutinizes their IDs for a moment before allowing them to sweep into the bar and Julie’s jaw nearly drops at the volume of people contained inside. Nearly every seat is filled, and the standing areas are packed with people all jamming to the band onstage that’s currently playing what Julie has to admit is a pretty kick ass cover of “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers.

Allison somehow discovers a table near the edge of the bar, and disappears off to get them drinks. Flynn’s rocking out already, and Julie feels a few of the nerves in her stomach even out as the realization that she doesn’t have to sing sinks into her bones. Allison was right, unsurprisingly. If she focuses hard enough, she can even push out the memories of coming to these sorts of open nights with her mom. Flynn shoots her a large and grateful grin and Julie lets herself smile back. She’s taking a step. She’s doing it.

Allison returns as the band switches and a new band begins to play a hyped up cover of “Africa” by Toto. The three girls lapse into quiet appreciation of the music, with Flynn singing along to every song played, Allison bobbing her head to herself and occasionally letting out a few notes in her vocal range, and Julie just quietly appreciating the fact that she doesn’t feel like throwing up.

It’s all very casual, just like her friends said.

Until it’s not.

As the third band of the night begins their last song, Julie retreats to find the bathroom. It’s hidden nearly backstage, and she’s just about to make it to the door when she hears the panicked shouts of someone from near the curtain which separates the small backstage from the actual performing area.

“Dude, I cannot believe he bailed on us.”

“Are you really surprised? Bobby was a piece of shit.”

“Hey, he didn’t use to be!”

“Calm down, Reg. You know he’s been treating us like garbage ever since that record label thought he had a ‘marketable voice’ or whatever they said.”

“Guys he bailed on us, what are we supposed to do?”

Julie, despite all the “stranger danger” lessons running through her brain, backed up far enough to see into the backstage area. Three guys stood there, two with a guitar and a bass each and one with drumsticks he was nervously twirling. The one with the guitar had his face buried in his hands and kept swearing heavily under his breath. The other two seemed frozen in their own panic as well. Guitar Player removed his hands from his face and Julie caught a glimpse of worried hazel eyes and dark curls. Bass Player opened his arms and Guitar Player tumbled into them for a hug while Drum Player rubbed his back. The three guys looked absolutely wrecked.

Here’s the thing: Julie had an uncontrollable urge to help people. It’s how she got roped into half of Flynn’s schemes, how she ended up teaching Carlos all of his second grade science curriculum herself, and how she somehow became the unofficial backbone of her family after her mom died. Seeing three guys utterly wrecked because, presumably, their fourth bandmate had bailed on them? It activated that uncontrollable urge deep in her stomach.

Here’s another thing: Julie hasn’t played music or sang in six months. She’s had no desire to, and every time she’s tried, the distinct urge to throw up overtook her. Tonight was supposed to be the baby step that showed her whether or not music was something she could seriously consider again; whether or not she could feel that itch to perform anymore.

“Hey, do you guys need a fourth?”

She felt the itch.

The three guys looked up in varying levels of shock. Drum Player recovered first, and stepped towards her hesitantly, wringing his pink hoodie as he did.

“Um, what?”

“It sounded like someone bailed on you. I can play. If you need it.” Guitar Player recovers next and nearly bounds over to her in barely contained excitement.

“You can play rhythm guitar?”

“No,” the three boys deflate, “I can play piano though.” Guitar Player tilts his head to the side as though playing a melody through in his head. He turns back to the other two.

“Bright could fit piano.”

“We never wrote the music for a piano component,” Drum Player wrinkles his nose.

“I did,” Guitar Player admits. The other two don’t look phased, though Bass Player does raise an eyebrow. “I was bored!”

“Okay, but we don’t want to put you out,” Drum Player turns back to Julie and she swallows.

“No, I offered. Let me see the music.”

“Okay, but you have like ten minutes!” Bass Player finally chips in with a surprisingly cheerful tone. Guitar Player hands Julie what looks like a piece of notebook paper and her eyes skim the words and notes. It’s feasible for sure, but she can feel the nerves prickling at her stomach. Guitar Player leans into her space and she clocks how ridiculously attractive he is up close. He gives her a smile.

“We alternative verses like this, see? And I don’t know your range, but we can figure that out on the go.” Julie gives him a small smile.

“Somewhere between mezzo-soprano and soprano.”

“We can work with that.” Guitar Player seems to vibrate with energy. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“No pressure,” Bass Player adds.

“Like seriously, none. We can just go home and cry,” Drum Player says. Julie isn’t sure. She really isn’t. In fact, she’s pretty sure she should just run away and hope she never sees these guys again.

“I’m sure.”

Well, that’s that.

Guitar Player sends her a smile that looks genuinely like someone has funnelled sunlight into his body and Julie feels the nerves lift for half a second. Then, they’re called to the stage and all of a sudden she feels like she could puke all over again. Guitar Player grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“You got this.”

Julie files out with the rest of the band and she’s extremely grateful her friends aren’t sitting in her direct line of sight. The piano is definitely worn out from use, but her fingers settle naturally on the keys and Julie tries to focus on the budding itch to perform in her stomach rather than the urge to throw up. She’s supposed to start this song. This song that she became aware of ten minutes earlier. She catches Guitar Player’s eye and he nods encouragingly.

She presses down on the keys and opens her mouth.

Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm calling out

For one more try to feel alive

And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home

Fight through the dark and find the spark

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #julie x luke #julie molina x luke patterson #juke #jukebox #jukebox fanfiction #juke fanfiction #julie x luke fanfiction #reggie peters #alex mercer #jatp #my writing #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #can i possibly tag this with anything else??? idk

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years

Text

Written for @lesbianbirds for the @tma-valentines-exchange 2021!

Words: 8.5k Relationships: Melanie King/Georgie Barker, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood Tags: AU - Cat Café, Fluff, No Fear Entities, Established Jmart, Getting Together WTGFs, First Kiss, First Date, Mutual Pining, He/They Pronouns for Jon

Summary:

From the first moment Melanie King from Ghost Hunt UK walks into Georgie’s café, Georgie is utterly smitten.

|| Ao3 ||

The coffee pot is empty. Again.

With a long, drawn-out groan, Melanie opens the cabinet above the kitchenette sink and pulls out the container of unbearably cheap coffee that Martin had picked out last month when he’d restocked the cabinets.

(“Melanie, I don’t drink coffee, how am I supposed to know what is and isn’t ‘a good brand’?” Martin had said, sounding affronted and snappish in that way he always gets when his beverage-purchasing decisions are questioned—though that typically only applies to tea.

“Martin,” Melanie said, trying to keep her voice calm and neutral despite forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “If it’s less than five pounds, it’s not good coffee.”)

Soon, she’s got a pot brewing. The smell of it is almost enough to drag her out of the mid-morning fog that’s got her eyes unfocusing on the screen, making her see things in the footage that aren’t there. Some people would say that none of the things they point to in their videos as proof of the supernatural are real, and while it’s true that artistic license is a good portion of the job, their footage is not tampered with. Ever. She just sometimes has to look at it for hours to find what she’s searching for.

Thus, coffee.

It warms her from the inside out as she sits back at her desk and begins to click through the footage, despite the acrid, sooty film it leaves on her tongue that has her grimacing. She almost doesn’t notice that she’s emptied her mug until she picks it up to take a sip and finds it absent of liquid.

She’s debating the pros and cons of having another cup less than an hour after the first when Martin’s voice drifts over from the doorway, sounding amused. “I thought you said you didn’t like that coffee?”

Melanie sets the mug down on the corner of her desk with a clink and says, “Yes, well, we do what we have to to survive around here, Martin. Even if it is suffering through some terrible coffee.”

When she turns to look at Martin, there’s a small smile on his face that one might call a smirk if they knew him well. “Think you could put that suffering on hold?” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “Jon’s café opened today, and I was planning on stopping by for lunch. They’ve got an espresso machine?”

Melanie’s nose wrinkles before she can help herself. “Ugh, sorry,” she says, waving a hand at Martin as if that can alleviate the small furrow that’s appeared in his brow. “It’s just—the first and only time I’ve ever seen your partner, they spent most of their time lecturing me on the inaccuracies of my show! Our show, Martin! While we were out recording something! On tape!” To herself, she mutters, “Part of me wants to release them as bloopers just to see what happens. ‘Ghost Hunt UK: Selfish Prick Edition.’”

“They did say they were sorry,” Martin says, sounding apologetic. “And- well, I mean, to be fair, a lot of the things they pointed out actually were facts we’d gotten wrong in the research, so…”

Melanie gives him a look that could cut through bone. “It still shouldn’t give them the right to just say whatever they—”

She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. She’s already had this discussion with Martin at length; it doesn’t bear repeating. Her therapist, at least, has been trying to get her to stop dwelling on past angers. “Fine,” she says, hoping that her words don’t sound too forced. “Can you just- can you promise me this won’t turn into another attack on our legitimacy? Please?”

Martin’s smile is relief and delight in equal measure. “I promise,” he says in a way that from anyone else would seem empty but coming from Martin is binding and true. “They’ll behave.” He laughs lightly and continues, “Though they did just do this deep dive on London subterranean tunnels—checked out nearly every book in the library and everything. Maybe you could talk about the Millbank Prison tunnels we’re planning on exploring next week? Might be fun, to debate facts off-camera.”

“Sure,” Melanie says, entirely unconvinced. “That won’t go poorly at all.” Before Martin can respond, she pushes back from her desk with a small sigh and says, “All right, then. For you, Martin, I will visit Jon’s- what was it, a cat café?”

“And a bookstore!” Martin says cheerily, his cheeks flushing a light pink.

“Right,” Melanie says, suppressing another sigh. She does like cats, after all. And espresso. She could certainly use some right now. “I suppose we’re taking our lunch break now, then?”

“If you’re free.”

“Well, given that I’m my own boss, I can safely say that I am.”

Melanie slips on her coat and follows Martin out of her office and out of the building, leaving her empty coffee-stained mug balanced on the edge of her desk.

In retrospect, not setting up a gate to keep the cats out of the food preparation area was probably a bad idea. Georgie sighs and swipes the three muffins with bite marks in the sides of them into the bin, resolving to stop by the shop that night to pick up the requisite supplies to keep the fluffy, bread-loving felines she’d so dearly and painstakingly selected from the shelter from ravishing the food they were meant to be serving to the customers.

“That would be the Chairman,” Jon says, reaching around Georgie to slide the glass cover over the remaining muffins. “He can be quite clever when he puts his mind to it.”

“Hm, but not when he’s meant to be keeping out the pests, I suppose,” Georgie says with lips curled into a smile almost against her will. The cat in question is sat on the windowsill, carefully grooming his rich black fur in full view of passersby and the few customers sitting at the tables. It’s still early, Georgie tells herself, and they’re new—not a lot of built-up rapport yet. Give it time.

She’s never been known for her patience.

Jon’s just handed off a steaming mug of tea to a customer—oolong, she thinks—when he turns to her with eyes alight, like he’s just recalled something, and says, “I’m not sure if I told you, but Martin’s stopping by today. Have- have you met him yet?”

With careful neutrality, Georgie says, “I have.”

Jon seems to take that at face value, his face relaxing into a light smile as he busies himself with another cup of tea and says, “Well, he told me he’d stop by around lunch today, just to say hello and to see how the café is coming along. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you again.”

Georgie’s… not quite so sure about that. The first and only time she’s ever seen Martin was when she, he, and Jon had gone out for drinks one night, about two weeks after Jon had started dating him. Martin had sipped his tonic, pressed himself closely against Jon’s side, and spent the entire night not-quite-so-subtly staring daggers at her every time she laughed at something Jon said or reached out to lightly squeeze his hand. She’s never found jealousy a particularly good look on a person. (Particularly when it’s completely unwarranted; she and Jon broke up years ago, before he’d even left uni, and the thought of her being some sort of romantic competition is honestly a bit laughable.)

And so maybe she’d never made an effort to reach out again, deciding that one awkward night of drinks was enough for her. Martin had certainly never made such an effort in return.

“Sure,” is all Georgie says before turning back to the muffins.

They take a few more orders, make a few more drinks, and chase the Chairman away from the muffins more than a few times. Jon tries to tell Georgie that they’re supposed to be putting three pumps of vanilla in their lattes, which is ridiculous—it’s always been two pumps, it’s not Georgie’s fault that Jon has a secret sweet tooth. The disagreement is teetering just on the line between bickering and fighting when the little bell above the door clangs. Georgie’s eyes automatically follow the sound.

The first person she sees is Martin, black-and-white scarf wrapped up to his chin and cheeks flushed a rosy red from the cold. His face splits into a wide, cheery grin as he spots Jon, and out of the corner of her eye, Georgie sees Jon soften. She recognizes the expression on his face from when they dated in uni; it’s the same as the one that would surface when the Admiral would jump on his lap or when Georgie would bring him tea or when he would spot her across the quad in between classes.

Being in love is a good look on Jonathan Sims, Georgie thinks absently, and not without fondness.

Then, Georgie’s eyes alight on a second figure, following Martin in through the doorway. Her coat is zipped all the way up to her chin, long black hair twisted up into two tight topknots messy enough that they appear to be born more out of convenience than out of fashion. She’s almost as tall as Martin, nearly as skinny as Jon, and Georgie thinks she sees a glint of metal on the side of her nose, on the shell of her ear. Her mouth is tilted into a frown but her eyes are curious as they wander about the café, landing first on the cats, then on the bookshelves lining the walls, and then on the coffee grinders and stainless steel water heaters behind the counter.

Her eyes find Georgie. And Georgie realizes with a start that she recognizes her.

“Jon,” Georgie says, but Jon’s already gone, stepping around the counter with a mug in their hand and an infatuated grin on their face directed entirely toward Martin—and maybe a bit toward the cat that’s decided to make its home in Martin’s arms. So Georgie follows him, brushing past the orange-furred Minister as she does so and trying not to sneak too many surreptitious glances at the woman she’s seen hundreds of times on her laptop screen, framed in neon greens and black-and-whites and sepia tones.

She clearly doesn’t succeed, from the way that Martin follows her gaze to the woman before saying abruptly, “Oh! Right, sorry—forgot. Er, Melanie, this- this is Georgie. Jon’s friend!”

Melanie—Melanie King of Ghost Hunt UK, standing here in the middle of her cat-café-slash-bookstore—regards Georgie with a look she can’t quite place. Then, Melanie holds out a hand. Her fingernails are painted a glittering green, Georgie thinks, then realizes she’s been staring at the hand altogether too long and reaches out to shake it.

“Right, Georgie. Georgie Barker. It’s… it’s nice to meet you.”

Huh. Her hand is softer than it looks on camera.

Before Georgie has time to unpack that thought, Melanie gives her that look again, and Georgie realizes that it’s scrutiny, with a bit of curiosity behind it. “Huh,” Melanie says, like Georgie’s just given her a puzzle to solve, a mystery to unravel. “You sound familiar.”

“Maybe I’ve just got one of those voices,” Georgie says with a disarming smile. She’s still holding onto Melanie’s hand. That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?

She lets go, though that doesn’t help the fluttering in the pit of her stomach. The butterflies climb up her throat, loosening her tongue, and she says without thinking, “Or maybe you’ve heard my podcast? What The Ghost? It- it runs every other Saturday.”

Melanie’s eyes grow just a bit wider then. “No,” she says disbelievingly. “Georgie? Martin, your partner’s best friend is What the Ghost? Georgie?”

Martin’s eyebrows dip into a frown. “Er… yes? Sorry, I- I suppose I never really mentioned it, did I? Sort of… assumed you already knew. Small ghost hunting world and all.”

Melanie looks at Georgie with a sharp, delighted glitter in her eyes. “Huh. Jonathan Sims’ ex is Georgie Barker from What the Ghost?. Who also owns a cat café. Stranger things, I suppose.”

“Slash bookstore,” Georgie says with a smile. “And besides, Jonathan never told me that Martin’s Melanie was Melanie King!”

“Oh, they talk about me?” Melanie says with a smirk.

“Only when absolutely necessary,” Jon says sullenly. Their grimace contrasts quite starkly with the trio of grey kittens they have cradled in their arms. One is valiantly trying to climb up into their hair. “Besides, I thought it was obvious. Martin does sound for Ghost Hunt UK, he has a coworker named Melanie, therefore Melanie is Melanie King of Ghost Hunt UK. It’s really not that much of a leap, Georgina.”

Georgie swats at Jon’s arm. “You never said she was a coworker! Jonathan Sims, this entire time you had a connection to Melanie King and you never said anything?”

Jon directs their sullen look at Melanie. “I wouldn’t say… connection, per se.”

“We’ve only met once, and they spent the entire time criticizing my setup and my story,” Melanie says, arms crossed and chin jutting out defensively, not dissimilar to a cat with its hackles raised.

“If that’s what you call fixing your facts, then fine,” Jon says with equal posturing, their mouth set into a firm line. “I admit that I should have waited until after we had left the shoot, but I will not apologize for correcting obvious mistakes!”

Melanie’s mouth opens, retort ready on her lips, when Martin says quickly, “Jon, why don’t you show me that book you were talking about? The, er, the one about the overlap between sea monster myths and geographical phenomena? I think you told me about the Scylla and Charybdis one last night, but I can’t quite remember what event you said it correlated with? A tsunami, maybe?”

Jon’s mouth opens, then snaps shut. They rub an absentminded thumb over the head of one of the kittens, chew on their bottom lip, and then say, “A hurricane, actually, which caused tsunami-like effects when it—here, I’ll just find the book for you. I think it’s in the back room.”

“That would be lovely,” Martin says, giving Georgie a wide—and not-too-subtly apologetic—grin before following Jon past the counter and into the smaller secondary part of the café meant only for books, the Minister trailing closely behind.

Melanie’s forehead is still set in a frown, but it softens a bit as she looks at Georgie and says, “Er. Sorry about that. Not my best first impression, arguing with someone else’s best friend in front of them.” Her lips curl into a smile, sharp and teasing yet warming Georgie to her core. “Maybe I can buy you a coffee to make it up to you?”

Georgie doesn’t really drink coffee, much preferring a strong green tea; the caffeine gives her headaches, and she’s always found it too bitter for her liking.

“That sounds lovely,” Georgie says. Then, with a teasing smile of her own, she slips back behind the counter and adopts her most put-upon customer service voice. “What can I get started for you?”

The next two months are… well, they’re really quite lovely. The café picks up after the first few days (which may or may not result from Georgie shameless plugging it on that week’s episode of What the Ghost?), all future muffins are saved from devastation by the cheap plastic gate Georgie picks up from the shop, and every day Jon talks her ear off about whatever book he’s last consumed.

When he’s not talking Martin’s ear off about it, that is. Because Martin stops by the café nearly every day, to the point where Georgie’s sure his bank account must be suffering from how many pounds he’s shelled out on coffee and sandwiches (which, as they’re set at Chelsea prices, are not cheap). He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He sits at the corner table, the one that lights up wonderfully in the noonday sun, with the Baroness sat upon his lap—a slim calico with a notch in one ear who’s taken a liking to Martin. Jon sits at the table across from him, both of them wearing those silly little infatuated smiles on their faces as they talk that Georgie is surprised haven’t faded even after nearly six months.

Maybe she should make more of an effort to get to know Martin. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw Jon quite so… peaceful.

And then, of course, there’s Melanie. Who accompanies Martin to the café sometimes, more and more as the weeks stretch on until it’s almost every day that Georgie gets to admire the sharp slant of her nose and the way that she smiles, like she’s just heard a joke and finds it very funny indeed. Georgie ends up hiring extra staff—Tim and Sasha, who interviewed together (which was strange) but who connected so well with Jon that she thought it a shame not to hire them both—and so she can take a few minutes off when Melanie stops by to talk. They talk about what places they’re planning on investigating and their most ridiculous episodes and the kinds of messages they’ve gotten from fans (ranging from flattery to outright hate mail). They talk about their favorite kinds of pastries and where they prefer to spend their Friday nights and their records for the number of drinks consumed in a single sitting (which Melanie wins by a large margin). They talk about their university years and their friends (because Jon’s really quite lovely once you get to know him, Georgie says, and What do you mean you don’t like Martin? What’s not to like? Melanie says) and their favorite childhood memories.

“My dad’s allergic to cats,” Melanie says one day, her fingers buried deep in the Chairman’s fur as she talks. “I always wanted one when I was growing up, got proper annoying about it for a while before he finally told me that it just wasn’t going to happen. We got a dog instead—Dandelion, she- she was wonderful, really, an old dog from a shelter—and then I moved away for uni, and the flat I’m in now isn’t pet-friendly, so…”

She makes a helpless gesture with her free hand. “This is nice, though,” she says and scratches the Chairman behind the ears. He makes a small, contented noise. “Shelter cats?”

“Yeah,” Georgie says, a hint of fondness slipping into her voice. “They’re all up for adoption, technically. We’ve only found homes for a few of them though, which if I’m being totally honest, I’m not too disappointed about.”

“They do grow on you,” Melanie says. The Chairman meows again, as if in assent.

“Mm,” Georgie says. Then, after a moment: “I’ve already got a cat at home, though, and he doesn’t take well to other cats. Tried once and it didn’t go well; had to have a friend take the new cat, felt right awful about it too.”

Melanie makes a sympathetic noise. Then, with a small smile on her face, she says, “What’s his name?”

“The Admiral.” At the look on Melanie’s face, Georgie laughs lightly and says, “Yes, yes, I know—I have a naming type. Jon’s already teased me more than enough for it—though I honestly think it’s rubbed off on him.” Her eyes light up, and she digs her phone out of her pocket. “Here, do you want to see a picture of him?”

She flips through the approximately two hundred photos of the Admiral on her phone before saying, nerves making her voice a bit too high, “I, er. I get off at five today. Do you… do you want to meet him? In person, that is.”

Melanie’s smile is like caffeine, sending her heart stuttering in her chest. “Do you even have to ask?”

So then Melanie’s in her flat, and she’s petting her cat, and she’s taking tea—black, just a bit of sugar—in the large yellow mug that Georgie likes, and she’s just so achingly beautiful that Georgie thinks she might die. Most of the time Melanie wears her hair up, in high ponytails or coiling braids or twin topknots, like the first time Georgie had seen her, stuck through with pencils or chopsticks or, on one memorable occasion, plastic forks.

(“Look,” Melanie had said, cheeks heating with embarrassment, “one of my chopsticks broke as soon as I got to work, and all we had were the forks. No, stop laughing at me—Georgina Barker, this is not funny!”)

But sometimes Melanie wears her hair down and Georgie realizes how long it is, brushing just above mid-back. It looks soft. Georgie finds herself wanting to run her fingers through it so badly that her hands twitch by her sides, but she doesn’t ask. She’s not that far gone yet.

It’s one night at Georgie’s flat, when Melanie’s got the Admiral on her lap and there’s a film going in the background that neither of them is paying any attention to, when Georgie realizes exactly how ‘far gone’ she really is. When Melanie says, haltingly, “So, you- you said you’d done a piece on the Black Lady of Bradley Woods, right?”

Georgie’s brow furrows as she thinks back. “A few seasons ago, I think.” She thinks she remembers Jon dragging up a history book for that one and lecturing her for a good hour and a half on the War of the Roses until she finally relented and changed the script to include a large section on it. “Why?”

“Oh, just- just wondering.” Melanie looks down at the Admiral; he gives a particularly contented purr and nuzzles into her hand, drawing a small smile to her face that Georgie immediately memorizes and files away for later. “I… I was thinking of doing a Ghost Hunt UK episode about it, actually?” she says, her cheeks coloring a light red. “And I thought—well, since you have some experience with the subject, maybe… maybe you would consider. Er. Guest-starring on the episode?”

Georgie’s mouth is suddenly very dry, her pulse quick as a hummingbird’s in her throat. Honestly, Georgina. It’s not like she’s asked you out on a date.

(Though Georgie would like that. She would like that very much.)

“Only if you’ll guest-star on What the Ghost?,” Georgie’s mouth says, entirely without her permission. But once it’s out there, Georgie finds that she really, really likes the idea of it. Them, tucked away in Georgie’s guest room that she’s converted into a studio, talking about ghosts and laughing and reading the horrible adverts she’s forced to incorporate—well. It sounds very lovely indeed.

“Oh, an ultimatum?” Melanie says, humored. Her smile is like wildfire, sending Georgie’s cheeks alight with flames that threaten to consume her utterly. “Well, then. I accept your terms, Georgie Barker. Perhaps you would like it in writing?”

“Oh, over a cup of tea would suffice,” Georgie says, and she knows that her face is nearly split in two by a grin and that she probably looks utterly ridiculous. But she can’t find it within herself to mind.

“I need your help.”

Jon nearly drops the stack of books they’re holding. The yelp they let out is quite undignified, and if asked, they will maintain that it never happened. (And since they’re in the back room of the café, there’s nobody around to hear it but the two of them.) “Jesus,” they say, shooting Melanie an irritated look softened by the shock still making their heart beat at a rapid-fire pace. Then, a bit petulantly: “Help with what? If I recall correctly, the last time I tried to help you, you decided you never wanted to speak to me again.”

“That wasn’t helping,” Melanie says through gritted teeth. “That was being condescending and rude in front of my coworkers.” She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and says, “But this isn’t about that. Believe me, I would much rather not be talking to you about this—”

“Great,” Jon says flatly. “I’m charmed.”

“—but,” Melanie continues, the look on her face dreadfully pained, “you’re Georgie’s best friend, so I really don’t have any other options.”

With no small amount of apprehension, Jon says, “Help with what, Melanie?”

Melanie’s expression is not unlike that of someone who’s just sat down in the dentist’s chair to get a tooth pulled. “What’s Georgie’s favorite food?”

Jon just stares. “What?” they say after a long moment of silence.

Melanie makes a frustrated noise. “Fuck, Jon, do you want me to spell it out for you? Should have known this was a waste of my time—”

“I don’t think Georgie has a favorite food,” Jon says quickly when the bite to Melanie’s voice grows sharp at the edges. “Maybe- maybe lángos?” At Melanie’s blank stare, they continue, “It’s, er. It’s deep-fried flatbread? She always orders it from the takeaway Hungarian place she likes—er, Miko’s Kitchen, I think?”

“Takeaway,” Melanie echoes. “Yeah, that’ll do.” After a beat, she says, begrudgingly, “Thanks.”

“Right,” Jon says, equally as begrudgingly. They’re not really sure they want to know, but—

“Why do you ask?”

The tips of Melanie’s cheeks go pink, and she says brusquely, “No reason.” She spins on her heel and makes to leave; then with her back to Jon, she pauses and says, “Do not say anything to Georgie.”

“What?” Jon says, confused. “Why?”

But Melanie’s already gone.

Jon stares at the books in their hands, then at the door that leads to the rest of the café. They see Melanie disappear through the front door, the bell jingling behind her.

“What?”

Georgie’s always liked routines. They provide structure to life that she finds comforting, and there’s enough room for variation within them that she doesn’t get bored. Wake up, get dressed, go to the café, come home, do some work on the next What the Ghost? episode, and go to bed, with room in between for other things, like watching that newest documentary on seals with Jon or waking early for a run.

Her new routine goes like this:

Around noon on most days, Martin and Melanie come into the café, sending the bell over the door jingling and approximately ten cats meowling insistently at their feet until Martin scratches beneath each of their chins in turn and Melanie collects some of the treats that Georgie keeps behind the counter in her hand and tries to pretend like she doesn’t like the way that the cats rub against her arms and hands when she kneels down to feed them. Martin orders a cup of tea—usually black with milk and a sugar, but sometimes it’s Earl Grey or gunpowder green—and Melanie gets an espresso drink that makes Georgie’s head ache just looking at it.

And as she hands the mug of tea to Martin, she’ll say, conversationally, “So, Martin, what kind of tea does Melanie like?”

Or: “Is Melanie more of a savory or a sweet kind of person?”

Or: “What’s Melanie’s favorite movie? Does she enjoy movies? What kinds of movies?”

Today, Georgie hands Martin his tea—black with milk and a sugar, the usual, nothing noteworthy or special about it—and says, casually, “What’s Melanie’s type?”

Martin nearly drops his mug. “Sorry, what?”

Georgie’s face begins to heat, but she barrels on. “You know—her type. Men, women, blonde, brunette—who she likes.”

Martin’s staring at Georgie like she’s got three heads. “Uh. I have no idea?” His cheeks are tinged with pink, and Georgie does feel a bit bad for making him uncomfortable, but the curiosity burning up inside her is a powerful thing. It keeps her mouth closed and her expression encouraging as Martin stutters out, “I- er, I think she- well, that is to say, I’m fairly certain that she- er, that she doesn’t… date men? At- at least that’s what it seems like!” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Last year, this chap—Greg, maybe? I don’t know—asked her out for dinner after one of our shoots. He was nice enough, you know—strong jawline, that kind of ‘swooshy’ hair, nice teeth—”

Martin’s face flushes a deeper red, and he cuts himself off. “Right, anyway. She said no, like it was obvious—not in, like, a mean way! Just like she was surprised by the offer. And when I asked her about it—” Martin shrugs. “She said he ‘wasn’t her type.’”

“I see,” Georgie says, keeping her tone carefully neutral and trying very hard to pretend like butterflies haven’t taken residence in her stomach. “Thank you, Martin, that’s very helpful. Enjoy your tea!”

“Wait,” Martin says, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Why did you want to—?”

“Ah, sorry, I- I’ve got another customer to deal with,” Georgie says quickly, deliberately ignoring the fact that the till is being sufficiently managed by Tim at the moment. “Great seeing you, Martin!”

Georgie thinks Martin might have said her name again, maybe even asked her a question. But she turns and retreats to the other end of the counter before she can hear it, brushing a curious Chairman away from the gate as she does so. And if her cheeks are as red as the heat in her face leads her to believe, at least Tim doesn’t mention it.

It’s after the seventh time that Melanie corners Jon in the back room of the café and grills him for details about Georgie that Jon finally gets it.

“Oh,” Jon says, apropos of nothing, sitting tucked into Martin’s side on the couch in his flat, the drama that Martin had wanted to watch playing softly in the background. “Melanie likes Georgie.”

Martin makes a sputtering, choking noise at that, something in between surprise and disbelief. “Okay?” he says, in that confused-yet-intrigued voice he gets when Jon changes the topic in a way that makes perfect, logical sense to him but that Martin can’t quite follow.

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, waving his hands in the air absently. “All of a sudden, Melanie wants to talk to me, but only about Georgie, and only when Georgie’s not around. And it’s all what’s Georgie’s favorite food? and does Georgie like parks or museums better? and what kinds of flowers does Georgie like?”

Martin sighs. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“And when I tried to tell her that just because Georgie and I dated, it doesn’t mean I know what kind of flowers she likes, she got this weird look on her face and just- just left.” Jon pinches the bridge of their nose between their fingers. “And then today, she asked me if Georgie likes women.”

Martin lets out a stifled laugh. “Just like that?”

Jon nods mutely. “I suppose it’s rather ridiculous it took that for me to figure it out.”

Martin laughs again. “Maybe. I didn’t realize that Georgie liked Melanie until she asked me what Melanie’s type is. Nearly dropped my tea.”

Wait. What?

Jon shifts so that they can get a good look at Martin’s face. “Georgie likes Melanie?”

Martin’s expression folds into confusion, then realization, then something softer. “Oh. Yeah, she- she does. Huh.”

Jon considers, very briefly, making a joke about terrible taste. The amount of restraint they exercise to keep it in is truly monumental. They’re sure that Martin can see it written all over their face, though, given the chastising look Martin gives them.

“Sorry,” Jon says, though technically they’ve done nothing that warrants an apology. Then: “So I suppose we ought to tell them, then?”

“What?” Martin’s looking at Jon like they’ve just suggested they microwave the water for their tea. “No, no, we should definitely not tell them.”

Jon frowns, shifting in place so that they can more fully face Martin. “Why not? If there’s mutual attraction, I don’t see any problem with helping to- to push it along a bit. Lord knows we could have used the help.”

“Jon,” Martin says, not unkindly. “If Georgie would have suggested that you ask me out, or even told you that I liked you, what would you have done?”

“I—” Jon stops, sucks in a breath. “All right, fine, I probably would have reacted poorly, or more likely just wouldn’t have believed her. But, as Georgie keeps telling me, our experiences are not universal.” They cross their arms over their chest with a sigh. “I just hate that trope, where the entire plot revolves around some- some misunderstanding or intentional obfuscation of information that keeps the love interests apart.”

“I know,” Martin says gently. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe they’d take it well. But I honestly don’t think it’ll come to that. Melanie and Georgie aren’t nearly as emotionally repressed as we were—”

“Hey!”

“—and besides, even if we don’t tell them outright, it doesn’t mean we can’t nudge a bit here and there.”

“Nudge,” Jon echoes.

Martin gives them a conspiratorial grin.

“Martin,” Jon says, trying to keep their smile under wraps and failing miserably. “You know how bad I am at subtly.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand in his and squeezes before pressing a soft kiss across their knuckles. He doesn’t say a word.

Jon loses the fight with his lips, and they curl upward against his will. “Fine, fine. No promises, though.”

Martin hums, giving Jon’s hand another squeeze. “You know we’re going to have to rewind the movie, right?”

The groan Jon lets out is more than a little overdramatic. “Why you like this- this drivel, I’ll never understand.”

“Hey, this drivel won two BAFTAs.”

“Ugh. No accounting for taste, I suppose.”

The end of the movie is, predictably, bad. But when Martin presses a soft kiss to Jon’s forehead before standing to go wash their mugs, Jon can’t bring himself to mind.

It’s two and a half weeks later that Jon finally, inevitably, slips up. Which, in his defense, is twice the amount of time he thought it would take for either Georgie or Melanie to finally ask the other out. So really, it’s not his fault at all.

It goes like this:

On Saturday nights at eight, Jon goes to Georgie’s flat, they order pizza or Chinese or Indian, and they put on paranormal investigation videos. Technically, it’s research—coming up with new places or events to make a What the Ghost? about, seeing what the rest of the community is doing, familiarizing themselves with other people’s work in case they ever need to network. In reality, it usually devolves into Jon picking apart their research as sloppy, unsubstantiated, complete falsification of facts, an utter embarrassment to the field of paranormal research and Georgie complaining that that’s not even how ghosts work, you can’t use an EMF there because of the power lines, that’s not even an orb that’s a dust particle on your camera lens.

In short, it’s the highlight of their week. Jon had to cancel once, and Georgie never let him hear the end of it.

Tonight, they’re watching an investigation of the Cambridge Military Hospital, and Georgie’s nearly reached a fever pitch, her increasingly frustrated hand-waves having narrowly avoided knocking over their half-full wine glasses twice now.

“—and that’s just a few reasons why they’re doing it all completely wrong!” Georgie says, ending the sentence with a long, drawn-out groan. “I swear, one of the only respectable shows in this business is Ghost Hunt UK.”

Jon eyes Georgie with no small amount of skepticism. “Well. Respectable is pushing it a bit.”

Georgie spins and points a stern, accusing finger at Jon. “Do not start. Nit-picking aside, Melanie’s tactics are solid, and at least she doesn’t blatantly fabricate her results!”

“Just plays it up for the camera, then,” Jon says under their breath.

“Jonathan.”

Jon bites back a groan. “Fine.” Then, like pulling teeth: “I… suppose that, historical inaccuracies aside, if… if I had to choose a show that I believed to be the- the least fraudulent, I might—might—be inclined to pick Ghost Hunt UK. But I cannot excuse sloppy research, Georgina.”

Georgie’s sigh is labored. “I suppose that’ll have to do.” She turns back to the television, and as she does so, she says, “You know, I thought that since you two were spending more time together, you might have warmed up to her.”

Jon just stares at her. “What?”

Georgie shrugs, reaching for her wine glass. “She comes into the café all the time now. I assume you’re not meeting up in the back room to discuss your mutual love for weird, esoteric books, right?”

Jon’s face heats up, and they press their lips very firmly together. “I… no. I suppose not.”

Georgie hums, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m just glad you two are friends now. God knows it’ll make it less awkward when she comes over to record for the next episode of What the Ghost?.”

“The next episode of—?” Jon cuts off with a sigh. “Georgie, you didn’t tell me that you were bringing Melanie on as a guest star.”

Georgie looks at Jon then, a strange expression on her face. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Jon reaches for their own wine glass, guilt coiling in their stomach. “No, I- I’m sorry. You just never mentioned it.”

Georgie gives Jon an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I- I suppose I thought maybe she’d mentioned it to you?” A small laugh. “Unless you were actually talking about weird books.”

“No,” Jon says sullenly. “That would have been nice. That would have involved actually talking and not just being grilled for information about you, and what you like, and whether or not you would like her.”

Two and a half weeks of carefully maintained restraint crumbles in an instant, and Jon’s wince is full-body. Georgie’s eyes are burning into the side of Jon’s face, and they say quickly, “Er. Forget I said anything, please.” They gesture to the screen helplessly. “I- I think they’re analyzing their footage now.”

“Jon,” Georgie says, setting her wine glass down on the table with a clink. “What did you just say?”

“Georgie,” Jon says, “I am begging you.”

“Jonathan Sims.”

Well. So maybe it’s entirely their fault. In for a penny, in for a pound, they suppose.

So they send a silent apology to Martin, set their wine glass down again, and open their mouth to speak.

Martin’s got Jon’s head resting on his chest and his arm curled around Jon’s back, the linens soft beneath them and his mind half-drifted off to sleep, when Jon says, quietly, “Georgie knows.”

“Mm?” Martin says, not quite awake. Then, after an extended pause, the words register, and Martin says, “Oh. Did you—?”

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but Jon’s already nodding, the motion sending his hair tickling against Martin’s chin. “It was an accident,” he says, his voice small. “It- it just came up, I didn’t mean to—”

He cuts off with a wordless noise of displeasure. Martin’s arm tightens around Jon, his thumb rubbing small circles against Jon’s arm. “Hey, hey. It’s fine. You know I would never be mad at you for something like this, right?”

Jon makes a sound remarkably similar to a scoff. “Yes, I know. It’s not- I’m not guilty, just- just frustrated.” There’s a small pause. Then, Jon says, quieter, “I suppose I’m worried that Melanie’ll hate me for it. We- we’re not friends, per se, but she trusted me not to say anything to Georgie. She asked me not to say anything, and I- I did it anyway!”

“You didn’t mean to,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s temple.

“I don’t think that matters much.”

Martin just hums. “What did Georgie say?”

Jon pauses for a moment. Then, with a small chuckle, he says, “Uh. I’m pretty sure it was something like, ‘Thank fuck, I’m asking her out tomorrow then’?”

Martin can’t help it; he laughs, more audibly than Jon, and soon they’re both giggling on the bed, Jon’s laughter a warm, rumbling feeling against Martin’s chest. “Well,” Martin says finally, once he’s gotten his breathing under control a bit. “I suppose that’s good, then.”

“Quite,” Jon says, an audible smile in his voice.

There’s quiet for a moment. Then, because Martin can’t resist: “So it really is that easy, then? One person can just ask the other out? Goodness, why didn’t we think of that?”

Jon makes a noise Martin could only describe as grumpy. “Go to sleep, Martin.”

“All right, all right,” Martin says, humored. Then, after a moment: “I love you.”

Martin can feel Jon smile against his chest. “I love you too.”

It’s not utterly freezing outside the next day, which Georgie is infinitely thankful for as she leaves the café in the hands of Jon and Sasha at quarter to five and makes the short commute to Melanie’s studio. She’d considered, briefly, just asking Melanie out at the café—pulling her aside to ask her a question, or possibly spelling it out in the windows if she was feeling bold—but it felt a bit too stale. And besides, Fridays were always busy days at the café, and between taking orders, restocking the pastries and sandwiches, and taking care of a mishap with a certain grey-haired, muffin-loving cat, Georgie had barely had time to flash Melanie a smile, much less ask her out on a date.

God, Georgie hasn’t been this nervous since uni.

Georgie’s been standing outside the studio for only a few minutes, debating whether or not to go inside or to just wait on the sidewalk for Melanie to come out, when a familiar voice says, “Georgie?”

The butterflies in Georgie’s stomach flutter, trying to climb up her throat and out of her mouth. She turns to see Melanie standing just a few feet away, her cheeks and nose dusted red from the chill and a hat pulled firmly down over her forehead and ears, a little logo of a ghost emblazoned upon the front of it.

The What the Ghost? logo.

Georgie honestly thinks that, in this moment, she might actually kiss Melanie King right here and now.

Instead, she says, “Are you off work?”

Melanie’s forehead creases, and it’s so cute. Georgie wants to reach over and smooth it flat again. She keeps her hands firmly in her pockets. “I have a few more things to do with the footage, but it shouldn’t take me more than half an hour, so- yeah, soon, I guess? Er, why?”

“Um.” Georgie shifts in place, the nerves in her stomach overtaking her quite suddenly. The words stick in her throat like honey, and she clears her throat once, like it’ll free them. “I’ve been, er. I’ve been wanting to try this new Indian place, over in Clapham? Martin, uh--he says you like Indian food?”

Melanie’s just staring at her. Georgie steels herself, tries to ignore the stutter of her heart in her chest, and says, “Also, there’s a new Paranormal Activity in cinemas, if you’d like to go with me. After dinner, that is.”

Georgie waits approximately a second and a half before saying, all in a rush, “A date, Melanie. Will you go on a date with me? Tonight, if you’re free.”

Then, Georgie clamps her mouth shut and waits. No matter how badly she wants to talk to fill the silence.

The silence that only lasts a few seconds before Melanie laughs, her face breaking into a smile of disbelief, and says, “Oh. Yes, I- that sounds lovely.” Then, enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely.”

The butterflies flutter once more, excitation and elation filling her in equal measure. “Great. Do, uh. Do you want to meet there, or…?”

Melanie blushes, which is a sight that Georgie thinks she’ll treasure forever. “Why don’t you just come inside?” she says, opening the door to the studio. “We’ve got central heat and shitty coffee.”

“Ah,” Georgie says as she steps inside. “That explains the daily visits to the café, then.”

Melanie’s cheeks grow a more vibrant red, and she looks away quickly. “That’s not the only reason,” she mumbles. Then, louder, and a bit hesitantly: “Do- do you want to help me with the footage? It’ll, er. It’ll go faster with two sets of eyes, and Martin’s left already.”

“Yeah,” Georgie says, her throat so swollen with affection she can hardly breathe. “I- I can do that.”

Never, in a million years, would Georgie have said that her ideal date began sitting behind a desk in a too-cramped office, staring at a screen and pointing out little glitches in the editing to be smoothed out. But her hand brushes against Melanie’s every so often when she moves and her knee is pressed up against Melanie’s where she’s sitting next to her in a chair they’d dragged over from Martin’s office, so it’s really no wonder that Georgie’s cheeks are flaming and her heart is stuttering in her chest by the time they finally get to the actual date part of the night.

And it just feels so… easy. Georgie takes Melanie to the Indian place, and they sit and eat chicken vindaloo and paratha under the red-yellow glow of the lights, just low enough to feel romantic but not so much so that Georgie can’t see the way that Melanie’s eyes light up when she talks about her latest hiking trip at Beinn a’Chrulaiste in Scotland.

“I’ve always wanted to hike St. Kilda,” Melanie says, twisting her fork in her chicken absently, “but, y’know… it’s got the Lover’s Stone, which is super popular with couples, and it always just felt weird, I guess.”

“Maybe we could go someday,” Georgie says, because she’s always been a bit too bold for her own good.

Melanie looks surprised for a moment before a small, coy smile comes across her lips. “I dunno—hiking through the wilderness is quite a bit different than sitting in your bedroom talking into a microphone. D’you think you’d be up for it?”

“I’ll have you know,” Georgie says, stabbing her fork at Melanie for emphasis, “that I do field research too! Jon’s the one who does most of the ‘history’ bits of it.”

Melanie lets out a small, bitten-off groan. “Right. Yeah, that tracks.”

Georgie considers telling her that she’s very much like Jon, in a way. But she decides that bringing up exes is not exactly the best first-date conversation material. So she picks up on a story about her last field research trip out to Minsden Chapel and brushes the topic away for another day.

For another date.

Georgie can’t stop smiling.

The film is fine, if a bit trite. Melanie’s hand in hers, coming to rest there thirty minutes in, is much, much more than fine. And when Georgie can’t stop herself from flipping her hand over and twining their fingers together, she’s rewarded with a small squeeze and the faintest of smiles, caught out of the corner of her eye.

They live on completely opposite sides of London, it turns out—Georgie in Acton and Melanie in Dulwich—and so the grand gesture of walking Melanie to her doorstep and then leaning in for a kiss like some couple out of a rom-com is out of the question. Still, Georgie is nothing if not persistent. So when Melanie stops in a secluded spot just outside the cinema, makes a small, aborted gesture that’s almost a shrug and says, “Well, I- I suppose this is it, then. I, er. I had a nice time,” Georgie decides that she’s something of a hopeless romantic after all, and her hand squeezes tighter around Melanie’s when she goes to pull away.

“Yeah,” Georgie says, certain that she sounds utterly infatuated but unable to convince herself to care. “Yeah, me too.” A pause. “I’d love to do it again sometime.”

Melanie lets out a short, clipped laugh. “Yeah, that- that sounds lovely.”

Georgie can’t help herself. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Melanie’s look of surprise quickly morphs into an amused grin. “Tomorrow? God, am I that good of company?”

“Mm, just a bit,” Georgie says with a fond grin to match. Her other hand comes up to brush gently against the side of Melanie’s cheek, the pads of her fingers catching against a few stray strands of black hair that have fallen around the shell of her ear. She hears Melanie’s breath catch as she takes a small step closer, enough so that the space between them is filled with the tension of too close not close enough. Then, teasingly: ”How do you feel about coffee?”

Melanie’s laugh is closer to a snicker. “Oh, I think I’ll manage.” A pause. Then: “Won’t be as good as yours, though.”

Georgie’s heart does something funny at that, a twisting, swirling sensation in her chest. “Flatterer,” she says, but it comes out barely more than a whisper.

Were they always so close together?

Melanie looks at Georgie then, something hot and burning in her eyes that Georgie feels reflected in her own mind, body, and soul. Her hand squeezes around Georgie’s, just once, and she says, “I’d very much like it if you would kiss me now, Georgie Barker.”

And so Georgie threads her fingers gently in Melanie’s hair, leans in, and kisses her. And everything—the softness of her lips, the little sigh she gives into Georgie’s mouth, the feeling of her hair between Georgie’s fingers—is so, so much better than she’d ever imagined it to be.

She kisses Melanie, memorizing the feel of her lips beneath hers, and begins to chart her way forward to all the kisses to come. She envisions the little kisses, like this one, and the passionate kisses, and the chaste kisses to a forehead or temple or back of the hand, and the sleepy kisses in the morning when neither of them would be awake enough to do much else than smile against the other’s mouth and trade quiet hellos. And with each passing image, the ember in her chest grows more and more until it’s fully ablaze, heating her from the inside out with a burning desire for what’s to come.

Melanie squeezes her hand once more before departing, leaving Georgie with a quiet I’ll call you and a smile so soft Georgie fears she might break it if she holds it too close. Georgie stands outside the cinema for a moment more, watching until Melanie disappears into the shadows, with lips and palms burning with a quiet, comforting heat that she can feel despite the nip of winter air against her skin. Then, she turns and begins to make her way back to her flat, a nervous energy curling in her stomach as she walks that finally, when she opens the door to her flat to reveal a very insistent Admiral rubbing against her ankles and purring at the approximate volume of a chainsaw, resolves itself into a bubbling excitement.

She can’t wait to fall in love with Melanie King.

Georgie feeds the Admiral, flicks the lights off, and goes to bed. And if her dreams are full of inky-black hair and thin-fingered hands and soft lips, pressing warmly against hers, then she finds she really doesn’t mind much at all.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma valentines exchange #wtgfs #jonmartin #melanie king #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #georgie barker #a plethora of cats!#my fic #my writing #happy valentine's day!! have some tooth-rotting fluff

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mercurysnitch · 4 years

Text

Papa Don’t Preach - Mother Mercury ‘Freddie lives’ AU

Summary: Eve has big news to share with her Papa. So big it’s going to change everything.

A/N: In honour of Freddie’s anniversary I stitched together a couple of AU snippets I had into a full(ish) fic. It’s basically Eve and Dad Freddie fluff, with really not enough Jim, but anyway. This is set in a universe where Freddie still got HIV, but it wasn’t diagnosed (ie it wasn’t detectable) until 1989, which meant that even though it still progressed he lived long enough to get access to the first effective treatments, which essentially saved him (as they did Jim in real life). So basically he got sick, but by the time this takes place in 1996 he’s mostly recovered. Everything else is essentially the same, which means Joe Fanelli still died in this universe, unfortunately. The only other major difference is that because Freddie is still alive John and Veronica never took on the ‘extra parents’ role for Eve, although they’re of course still an important part of her life in this universe.

A quick bit of background about the events depicted here, which have only been touched on in Mother Mercury: in the main Mother Mercury universe, Freddie left Garden Lodge to Eve, but she and Daphne didn’t move into it for a long time after Freddie’s death. The initial plan was that they would move in after Eve took ownership when she turned eighteen, but once she got pregnant they realised it would be the best place for her to live with the baby, so Eve moved in before Mel arrived. Daphne kept her own house, but spent a lot of time at Eve’s as well. Also, Daphne was extremely unhappy when Eve got pregnant, and they fought to the point that Eve increasingly turned to Veronica (and John) for support as time went on.

Also, Nikos is of course Mel’s father, who’s been mentioned a couple of times in Mother Mercury. He and Eve are still together when Mel’s born, but they don’t last much beyond that in any universe. They’ve well and truly broken up by the time he goes off to uni a bit over a year later. He tries to help out with Mel at first, but the novelty and the amazement he shows here wear off pretty quickly, and once he gets to uni most of his attention is quickly taken up by other things, leaving Eve to basically go it alone from then on. He might appear properly in a later chapter of Mother Mercury, I haven’t decided yet.

*** indicates a time skip.

Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth (offscreen), mentions of illness, mentions of death

***********************

Eve was immensely grateful to still have her papa, she really was. She was beginning to realise just how lucky he was to have lived long enough to get the new life-saving medications that had finally arrived only a couple of years ago. She had known, of course, what the alternative was, she was old enough to understand what had happened to poor Joe even then. But it was only recently that it had really started to sink in how easily that could have been her dear papa’s fate too.

It wasn’t something she liked to think about it much, how easily the world could have lost Freddie Mercury when he was still far too young, still had so much more to give. Yes, she was very grateful her papa had survived to be around for many years more, making music and doing all the things he loved.

But standing on his doorstep, about to drop the bombshell that she, his beloved daughter, was pregnant at sixteen, a part of Eve was starting to question whether her current situation might have been made easier had she not had to face her father. Or more specifically, the dramatic reaction he was bound to have to her rather unwelcome news.

"You're what?!"

Eve winced, bracing herself for the inevitable storm. "You heard me. I'm up the duff." Freddie looked absolutely furious. "You - have I taught you nothing?" he spluttered. "Did you ever listen when I talked to you about using protection?" Perhaps unsurprisingly, recent experiences had turned Freddie into a passionate advocate for safe sex. The minute he got the merest hint of an implication that his daughter might be getting physical with boys Eve had been subjected to multiple lectures on safe and healthy practices, though he left discussion of the mechanics to her mother. Not that Eve would ever have asked him anyway, they both knew that was rather beyond the scope of his expertise.

"Of course, Papa" Eve sighed. "We used- well Nikos said he used a condom, but obviously it didn't work…" Freddie raised an eyebrow at his daughter's phrasing. "You think he might have lied to you?" he questioned. Eve shook her head. "No, I trust him, but…" She looked at her father, her eyes full of uncertainty. "If he was telling the truth, how did this happen?" Freddie softened immediately, throwing his arms open to Eve, who gratefully threw herself into them. "Nothing's infallible, darling" he murmured, holding his teenage daughter close. "Perhaps you're just very unlucky." Eve stared up at him, eyes full of tears. "Or maybe Nikos needs to change condom brands" Freddie quipped. "Either way, not your fault." She suddenly broke into a smile, giggling through her tears. "So, dear…" Freddie said gently. "Have you decided what you want to do?"

Eve's smile was abruptly replaced by a rather fearful expression. "I have" she said quietly, taking a steadying breath. "I want to keep it." Freddie's jaw dropped. "Are you- are you sure, darling? Are you absolutely sure that's what you want to do?" Eve nodded, her eyes still wide with worry. "But I don't want to do it alone…" she said uncertainly. Freddie smiled slightly as he pulled her back towards him. "You don't have to, dear" he reassured her. "I'll always support you. And Jim will too, I'm sure." Eve visibly relaxed, her worries finally starting to lift. "Thanks Papa" she murmured gratefully.

Eve and Freddie sat snuggled together for a long time. Once the initial shock wore off Freddie started coming up with all sorts of plans for his grandchild-to-be. "You should come and live here!" he suggested excitedly. "You can have your own little apartment upstairs, and that way you won't have to do anything about housework and all that, just look after yourself, and them, once they're born." Freddie employed a couple of cleaners, who visited once a week, and of course Phoebe still ran the household, though Jim tried to do his fair share too. And he’d eventually found a new personal chef after Joe died, though the new man didn’t live in.

Tempting though the offer was, Eve wasn’t convinced. "I'll have to go to school at some point" she pointed out. "And you'll have to listen to them screaming all night, you won’t enjoy that." "Perhaps not" Freddie mused. "Still, I'll make sure you have help, wherever you are." Eve smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Papa."

***

Though Eve hadn’t accepted Freddie’s offer to move in permanently, she would still need to make a major change to her living arrangements. Her mother lived close enough to Garden Lodge that she was able to more or less wander between her parents’ houses whenever she pleased, but Daphne was quick to point out this wouldn’t be practical with a newborn in tow. Eve briefly considered trying to move out on her own, but the idea died when she realised she was still too young to have a lease in her own name, and she wouldn’t really be able to afford rent and bills either.

Having given up the notion of moving out, Eve still had to decide which parent she would live with once the baby arrived. Her mother nominally had primary custody, but space was at a premium in her two-bedroom row house, and Eve thought she would struggle to fit a crib into her already crowded bedroom. Daphne had also made it quite clear she wasn’t pleased with the path her daughter’s life was taking, though she was still doing her best to be a supportive parent. Nonetheless, there was significant tension between mother and daughter, which in recent weeks had boiled over into more than one blazing argument, so Eve thought living with her papa might be the more peaceful option.

Naturally, Freddie was thrilled when Eve announced she wanted to move in with him. And Jim and Phoebe were just as excited to welcome her back to Garden Lodge. Freddie, though, was almost more excited at the prospect of a renovation project at his house.

When Eve had lived there as a child she and her mother had simply taken over two bedrooms at the end of a hallway, next door to a bathroom. Freddie had offered to create a proper apartment for them at one point, but Daphne had always insisted they were perfectly fine with their current accommodation. The matter was quickly dropped, but Eve had long thought her papa was slightly disappointed not to have an excuse to rearrange his house back then.

This time, however, it was clear to all parties that a self-contained space would be the best option for peaceful co-existence, so a renovation was more or less inevitable. Naturally, Freddie launched into the project with great enthusiasm. He cleverly came up with a plan to connect Eve’s bedroom with the room on the other side of the neighbouring bathroom, in a way that would create a self-contained apartment with a small living space in addition to the two bedrooms. It was even accessible via the back stairs in the kitchen, allowing Eve to come and go whenever she liked without disrupting the rest of the household.

The renovation was completed just in time for Eve to move in before her exams. She was immediately pleased with the extra privacy her new apartment afforded her, and the increased independence from the rest of the house. It was soon established that although the space wasn’t soundproofed, nearly any noise Eve made was at least muffled enough by the extra walls that it wouldn’t disturb the rest of the household. Freddie was hopeful this would extend to ensuring the baby’s cries wouldn’t be too disruptive outside Eve’s rooms, once they arrived. But if it didn’t, they’d manage. He would always stick by his daughter, whatever happened.

***

Eve was sure about what she wanted to do, but that didn’t mean she never had moments of doubt. School kept her busy, but after she finished her exams she was faced with the terrifying reality that she was now only weeks away from her due date. On what was supposed to be a celebratory weekend at home Freddie quickly noticed she was uncharacteristically quiet. “Are you alright, dear?” he said gently, aiming for a casual tone. “ Not too uncomfortable are you, do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, Papa” Eve assured him. Freddie was not at all convinced. “Are you sure? You can be honest, I promise I won’t be embarrassed this time.” Eve’s rather frank descriptions of some of the changes in her body over the last few months had been known to cause her father to blush, though he was getting more used to such discussions now.

She had actually been a bit hesitant to talk about the details of her pregnancy with her papa initially, fearing he’d be awkward about it. In the event, however, he was surprisingly fascinated by the whole process, and made sure to reassure his daughter he was very happy to hear about it even if her comments did make him squirm occasionally. Eve was quite pleased that her forthright commentary hadn’t made him genuinely uncomfortable, though she couldn’t help wondering why he was so curious about everything she was experiencing.

“I didn’t get to do this bit, with you” Freddie pointed out, after she finally asked him about it. “I’ve never really gotten to see it… ‘up close’, shall we say.” “Everyone else in Queen has masses of kids, though, you must have been around when some of them were born” Eve said. “Not many of them” Freddie admitted. “Between tours and recording trips we don’t actually get to see much of each other’s partners.” “I s’pose not” Eve mused. Freddie smiled slightly. “Besides, it’s true what they all say” he said fondly. “It’s different when it’s your own grandchild, it just is.” Eve had realised then that her papa was genuinely excited about being a grandfather, despite the less-than-ideal circumstances.

“It’s not… my body’s fine” Eve mumbled. “But…” She trailed off, suddenly unsure about confiding in her papa. Freddie, however, could tell there was something bothering her, and he was determined to find out what. “But…?” he echoed.

“I’m scared” Eve admitted. “What if… what if I can’t do this? What if I’ve failed everything and I can’t get a job and we’re poor forever and they hate me? What if I’m a bad mum? What if I shouldn’t’ve…” The words tumbled out in a fretful rush, the last thought disappearing in a flood of tears.

Freddie threw his arms around her, holding her as she cried. “It’s alright, darling, let it out” he soothed. When Eve had regained some composure he held her out to face him.

“First of all, dear, you know I would never let you starve. I’m sure you’ve passed everything with flying colours, but if you somehow haven’t, there’s always a plan B, and in the meantime you might as well make the most of having an outrageously wealthy papa to support you.” he told her. “True” she said thoughtfully, smiling slightly. “But I’m making it hard for myself as it is, if I haven’t done well I’m just about making it impossible to finish school like a normal person…” “Nothing’s impossible for you, darling” Freddie assured her. “Besides, normal’s boring.”“Perhaps” Eve agreed uncertainly.

“It is” Freddie insisted. “But anyway, you’ll be a great mother, dear.” Eve wasn’t convinced. “You can’t know that for sure.” “Maybe not” Freddie said airily, “but the fact that you’re worrying about being a bad mum shows how much you already care about your child, and they’re not even here yet.” “Is that all it takes to be a good parent, then, caring?” Eve joked. Freddie grinned. “Of course not, dear, but you’d be surprised how far it gets you.” Eve raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“It was all I had, at first” Freddie admitted. “I was terrified, you know, when I first met you. I didn’t know the first thing about raising a child, not really. But a very wise person once told me that as long as you can show your child how much you care about them, as long as they know you love them, everything else you can work out as you go. Like every other parent in history.”

Eve smiled gently. “You were scared when we met?” she said, somewhat disbelieving. “I was three, how was that scary?” Freddie grinned. “I wasn’t scared of you, silly, I was scared about becoming your Papa. Which is normal, by the way, I doubt there’s a parent on earth who wasn’t utterly terrified at the prospect at some stage.” “I bet uncle John wasn’t” Eve suggested. “Oh yes he was” Freddie countered. “Poor boy was quaking in his boots when Veronica told him he was going to be a father” he recalled fondly. “To be fair I think he was more frightened of how her parents were going to react to her being unmarried and pregnant to an impoverished musician than actually becoming a dad, once he got over the shock of course.”

Eve grinned at that. “That’s the spirit, dear” Freddie said encouragingly, holding her happily.”Now remember, you’re Evangeline fucking Mercury, you can do anything.” “Not actually my name, Papa” Eve sighed, smiling with fond exasperation. “But y’know, I think I feel better now.”

Freddie smiled as he embraced her. “You’re still a Mercury, no matter what your proper name is. And you’re still amazing, darling.”

***

The weeks after exams slid by surprisingly quickly, and in seemingly no time at all Eve’s due date was imminent. Naturally when she did finally go into labour Freddie was the only other person in the house, which of course sent him into a flap about how to get them both to the hospital. Fortunately Jim soon returned from his errands, and managed to calm down his partner, retrieve the go bag and bundle everyone into his car within half an hour, getting Eve to hospital in good time.

Once they arrived, Freddie stayed with Eve, acting as her support while Jim tracked down Daphne and Nikos, who’d both agreed to support Eve in the delivery room. In Daphne’s case the support was somewhat begrudging, as she had thought from the start her daughter would be better off giving the baby up for adoption. However, since Eve had moved in with her father the physical separation of mother and daughter seemed to have eased relations somewhat, and Eve had very much wanted her mother by her side in her hour of need.

Not that Eve didn’t want her father there too, but Freddie had been clear from the beginning that while he was quite happy to do his share of hand-holding and cheering from the sidelines while Eve was in labour, he had absolutely no desire to be present for the main event, as it were. There were some things he’d really rather remain ignorant about, frankly.

As it turned out, there was no need for anyone to rush to Eve’s side just yet. Progress was steady, but it was clear the baby wasn’t in any hurry. Although Freddie was soon relieved of number one support person duty by Daphne’s arrival, he stayed in the waiting room, stepping in when Daphne needed a break. He was happy to stand in for Nikos too, but in an unusual display of loyalty the boy adamantly refused to leave Eve’s side for several hours after he arrived, eventually ducking out briefly only after he was persuaded he wasn’t going to miss anything in the next half an hour or so.

Eventually, after many hours Freddie went to see how things were going only to be stopped by Daphne. “Don’t come in, they’re about to take her to the delivery room” she told him. “Shouldn’t be long now.” He returned to the waiting room alight with excitement, only to find himself waiting for what felt like days, though he would discover later it had only been around two hours. Finally, finally Daphne came out, face shining with quiet happiness. “You can go in now” she said softly. Freddie didn’t need to be told twice.

He practically raced through the hospital corridors, but as he arrived at Eve’s room he hesitated, eventually deciding to peek cautiously through the door. She was sitting up in bed, tenderly holding what appeared to be a bundle of blankets, radiating joy. Nikos was sat next to her, staring at the bundle with wonderment. "Knock, knock!" Eve looked up, grinning when she spotted him. "Papa! Come in, come in." Having obtained permission, Freddie bounded across the room, trailed by a grinning Jim. "Sorry" he mumbled to Eve. "Couldn't hold him back any longer." "It's alright" Eve assured him.

Freddie slowed as he reached his daughter's bedside. "So this is the troublemaker" he said wonderingly, gazing at the bundle in his daughter's arms. Eve smiled affectionately. "Yes, this is she." Freddie's head shot up to look at his daughter, beaming with excitement. "She? It's a girl?" "Yes, she’s a girl" Eve confirmed, laughing happily.

"Does she have a name yet?" Jim asked, his voice softer than usual. Eve and Nikos, sat by her bed, exchanged glances before he spoke up. "Melina" he announced, sounding rather awed. Freddie's eyes went wide. "Melina? Really?" Eve nodded. "Absolutely." "It's a family name" Nikos explained. "But I gather it's significant to you too." "Indeed it is, dear" Freddie mumbled, still a little shocked.

"Papa, do you want to hold her?" Eve asked, breaking through her father's reverie. Freddie’s eyes lit up. "Of course, darling" he said gently. He didn't stop smiling as the baby was delicately placed into his arms. She had dark hair and olive skin, he noticed. Quite an impressive tuft of dark hair, actually. "Oh, darling, she's beautiful" he murmured admiringly. Jim was peering eagerly over his shoulder. "Can I-" the Irishman started to ask. "Of course, Jim" Eve assured him. Melina was soon passed carefully over, and Jim quickly concurred with Freddie's original assessment.

Freddie, meanwhile, leant down to plant a gentle kiss on his daughter's forehead. "You've done so well today, darling, and through these last few months. You're absolutely brilliant, my dear."

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