#fandersen

Fred walked in your shared apartment, placing his keys down and wiping his forehead to rid himself of the sweat he still produced from practice.

He would have showered at the arena, but he hoped you’d be willing to shower with him when he got home, seeing as you both haven’t had too much time for each other in the last two months due to your new promotion at work and the Canes being in the playoffs, and now that it’s the weekend and you’re both free for the first time in what feels like forever, he’s been a little excited to spend some quality time with his girlfriend.

You on the other hand, had just finished packing an overnight bag and are now sitting on the edge of your bed, tears now dried on your cheeks with new ones threatening to leak over your eyelashes.

You knew your and Fred’s relationship was on the rockier side for awhile, barely seeing each other despite living together, having little to no time to say more than two words to each other. You knew it was getting to Freddie, but you also hoped that you’d pull through, like you always do.

You didn’t expect this.

“Hey elskede.” Freddie’s words made you jump, quickly turning your head to look up at his figure entering the room.

Freddie’s smile turned down, a look of concern washing over his face upon seeing your dried tears and red eyes, “What’s wrong baby?”

You could practically scoff at his audacity.

“Why don’t you ask Brady, you two seem to have gotten awfully close lately.” You mutter bitterly, wiping your nose and cheeks with your sleeve

Freddie’s heart stops for a second,

no…there’s no way you found out…

“Elskede, what are you talking about?” He’s playing dumb, he knows he is, but in his defence, he never thought you’d ever find out.

“Freddie please, the last thing I need right now is for you to lie to me, I already know…I just-I need to hear you say it.”

You’re practically falling apart in front of him, the news hit you like a ton of bricks, and you don’t know if there’s any hope for your relationship after this.

“Let me explain…” Fred started but paused when you closed your eyes and sighed defeatedly

“W-we were going through a tough spot in our relationship a-and I didn’t know what to do, when you said you couldn’t attend Mitchy’s wedding I was even more frustrated, and the guys wanted me to loosen up so-”

Catching his words, you cut him off, “Woah, wait-wait!”

Freddie stops.

“You mean to tell me…that this has been going on since Mitch and Steph’s wedding?!”

Realizing his mistake, Fred can’t say anymore, knowing he fucked up.

It made since now; the arguments about his lack of free time, the last minute “new year’s trip” to see his family, him being way busier this time around the playoffs than usual, having a newfound understanding of all your late-night workdays, his late evening workdays where you assumed practice ran later than usual…

“Oh my god…I’m such a fucking idiot!”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you gather your things and sling your bag over your shoulder, a fresh set of tears flowing freely

Fred moves fast, grabbing your upper arm, “No please, elskede you can’t-”

“I can’t leave? Not only did I find out you cheated on me, but I find out it’s been multiple times, since Mitch’s wedding which was what, in July? It’s fucking April you piece of shit!”

You push him off you and rip your arm from his grasp, “So yeah, I think it’s safe to say I’m allowed to leave you.”

Tears are gathering in Freddie’s eyes, and he finds himself losing control of his breathing, “Please, I’m sorry baby, don’t leave, I’ll fix this.”

He follows you out of the room, and as soon as you open the door, he smacks his palm against it, slamming it back shut

“Fred, move!”

You aren’t in the mood for games, but Fred isn’t willing to give you up this easily

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to look in him in the eyes, almost breaking at the fact they’re even redder than yours, but you remind yourself this is his fault, he did this to you both,

“Just…tell me one thing…”

He puts his full attention on you, reaching to hold your hands in his

“Were they different every time, or is it the same person?” You’re honestly scared of the answer, not sure which one will make you break more. If it’s multiple, then there’s something he’s missing that you guys no longer have in your relationship, but if it’s just one girl, then there’s something he’s missing within you.

He’s quiet, and you’re searching his face for any sort of hint or giveaway. When his face drops, you have it.

“Well…” you muster all of the strength you have inside you, “I hope she was worth losing everything that we had, everything I sacrificed to build this life with you, a life that was so easy for you to throw away.”

You shake his hands off you, ripping the door open and leaving him for good, “Goodbye Freddie.”

Fred falls to his knees as soon as the door closes, letting out everything he was holding in.

“FUUUCK!!” He grabs the shoe rack in the closet, tossing it to the living room and hearing a loud crash to which he pays no mind, it doesn’t matter anyway.

Nothing matters anymore, he’s lost you for good and it’s nobody’s fault but his own. He knows he can only call one person right now, someone he knows won’t be upset with him, someone he knows he really shouldn’t call, especially right now. But Freddie is in love, or at least, that’s what he thinks.

Freddie is simply infatuated, he’s in love with the idea of what is, and honestly, what better way to take his mind off you than to call the one person he knows can do just that.

Picking his phone up, he swallows back all the guilt and sorrow he’s feeling right now,

Volunteering at an animal shelter is somehow both better and worse than people seem to think it is. Worse because people seem to assume that all you do is sit around and play with animals all day, completely ignorant of all the hard work that goes into caring for animals on a somewhat large scale- and definitely unaware of how much paperwork is involved in the adoption process. Better because not only do you get to play with animals sometimes, but you get to celebrate when they get adopted. Like this morning when a pitbull who’s been at the shelter for longer than you have finally found a home. She was the sweetest little lady with the most beautiful brindle coat, and she always had some kisses to spare for anyone who spent time with her. Guess you’ll have to get your kisses somewhere else, now.

That’s been the highlight of your day so far, which has otherwise been pretty boring.Two families had come in to look at the dogs this morning, and a couple teenagers wanted to see the litter of kittens that had been born a few days back, but overall you were less busy than usual. You were just finishing up swiffering the pet hair off the lobby floor when the door opened, and you thank whoever may be watching over you for postponing cleaning the cats crates. The new arrival from Tuesday has been spraying ever since and you’re not looking forward to seeing what mess she’s made this time. You wipe your hands on your jeans and get some sanitizer from the counter before turning to greet the visitor, already halfway through your greeting spiel by time you look up (and up, and up) and see who it is. Only by the grace of habit do you manage to finish what you’re saying, because that’s a whole lot of man and you might be a bit dumb struck that a Leafs player just walked into this little shelter.

“Hi,” he greets, deceptively soft for someone his size, offering a hand for you to shake, “I’m Freddie, I’m looking to adopt.” You shake his hand politely, refusing to get caught up in how rough and warm it is. If he’s looking to adopt, you’ve got a job to do. You’re sure he has the financial means to adopt, but you’re a little iffy on how much time he spends away from home, if you’re being honest. But plenty of hockey players have pets and take good care of them, apparently, so you’ll worry about that later. Plus your boss will probably grill him within an inch of his life to make sure he’s a proper home anyway, and she has good instincts about that kind of thing. So right now all you have to do is introduce him to the residents.

“Great!” you reply, “I’m Y/N, I’ll help you out. Do you know what you’re looking for?” Some people come in with an idea in their minds of exactly what they’re looking for, others have a general idea, and some just know that their apartment is big and lonely.

“Ah, not really,” he seems a bit sheepish, so you’re assuming he’s definitely the third kind, “Just figured I could look around and see?” You’re still trying to get read on him and what he may like, but it’s still pretty open.

“Definitely,” you say, beckoning him to follow you as you start toward the back, “Did you want to look at cats, dogs, or both?” You nod to Steph, the receptionist, as you pass, and she gives you a wide-eyed look and mouths “what the fuck” in return.

“Both, please,” he responds, and Steph’s reaction had almost made you forget what you’d even asked. You give an “of course” and decide to start with dogs. Most hockey guys (and guys in general) went for dogs, and it’s better not to disturb the cats if you don’t have to.

“Do you have any breed restrictions?” You ask as you push open the heavy door to the dog section. Each dog has their own space indoors, connected to a small grassy outdoor area so they can get air and exercise. It’ll be easier if he has some type of guidelines; otherwise you’ll be looking at every animal in the place.

“No,” he says. All right, looking at every animal, it is. Not that you’re complaining about having to spend more time with him, or watching him play with pets, but your hearts been racing since you saw him standing in the doorway and you’re not entirely convinced you’re not going to have a heart attack. Nonetheless, you walk him down to the end of the section, going just slow enough so that he can get a first look at the residents and you can catalog who his eyes linger on for reference.

The bigger dogs stay in the back, so people who are afraid of them don’t have to walk past. You start introducing them, giving Freddy little tidbits of information about the ones he looks closer at. He takes pretty well to a retriever, letting her smell him through the fence and lick his fingers, but he still moves on to the next after a few minutes. You do your best to discreetly write down her name in the notepad from your back pocket as he greets a boxer, not willing to risk forgetting any possible matches he may want to see later. The dogs get smaller as you go along and he seems to do a little better with them, relaxing into the process of greeting. He listens intently to everything you tell him, asking questions here and there. You’re surprised how quiet and gentle he is, how careful with the dogs. It’s not really a shy or insecure way about him, just a calm confidence that sets you at ease despite the way your heart had been racing at first.

“Do you still want to see the cats?” You ask, once you’ve made your way through the halls of dogs. He nods and says “please”, following easily as you lead him back toward the obnoxiously heavy door. Before you can even get a hand on the door, he’s reaching past you to push it open one-handed. He’s taken off his coat somewhere along the way, and you spent the last 15 minutes staunchly refusing to acknowledge his mostly bear arms and when he fills out his T-shirt, and effort which is now for nothing. It’s kind of impossible not to notice the flex of thickly corded muscle under his smooth skin when it’s right in your face, and it’s all you can do to mumble a “thank you” and scurry through the door before you get caught staring. Maybe you walk a little too quickly around the corner to the cat room, but you hardly think you can be blamed. Okay. Deep breath. Move on.

You tackle the cats the same way you had the dogs, introducing them one by one. Then you let him wander the room a bit, examining the cats and letting them sniff his fingers cautiously, careful not to stick them into the crate until the cat has brushed up against the metal to invite it.

“So, how long have you worked here?” He asks suddenly, not looking away from the tabby he’s trying to coax out of the corner of her cage. You startle just the slightest at the unexpected sound, but shake it off.

“Little over two years,” you respond. It hasn’t been too long, but you know what you’re talking about, it that’s his concern. He gives you an inscrutable look that morphs into a small smile, before he turns his attention back to the Tabby, who has ventured out far enough to sniff him, if she stretches. He keeps on like that for a bit, asking more questions about yourself instead of the animals, slowly shifting more and more of his attention to you. You answer as much as you’re comfortable, which is more than you usually would be, for some reason.

“I’m sure it gets you attention on dates,” he says, “Working here, I mean.” The question itself is enough to throw you off, but the look that accompanies it has your face heating as you turn away, flustered. What does it matter to him? Like yeah, people tended to think it was cute, but that usually lasted up until they realized this was volunteer, which means you also have a normal paying job, which means you don’t have a whole lot of time to devote to a relationship. Not that you wouldn’t mind a relationship, just. People get weird when you spend more time cleaning up cat shit than hanging out with them. Probably fair.

“Kind of,” you laugh the littlest bit. You’re not sure you want to explain it to him, but he looks so genuinely interested that you can’t stop yourself. He listens intently, nodding in understanding.

“It can be the same for me, too,” he says after you finished. Oh shit, right. Professional hockey player. His schedule probably makes yours look like a vacation. He doesn’t talk like that, though, drawing comparisons between the two of you as if you were equal. It’s an improvement over your lawyer ex-boyfriend who had decided your “silly pet project” was nothing and insisted you change your entire schedule so you could spend more time with him and at home, cooking and cleaning. Needless to say, you dropped him rather than the shelter.

“Do you want to hold any of them?” You ask an indeterminate amount of time later, realizing you’d both just been talking to each other for who knows how long, rather than finding him a match. He agrees, asking for the Tabby he’s been coaxing out. She’s been here longer than you have, too shy and distrustful for most peoples tastes. Not many people care to put in the time and effort to get her to trust them, especially as she’s gotten older. You’re one of the few that’s allowed to handle her, because she’ll claw up anyone but you and your boss by trying to get away from them. You’re not sure you want to risk bringing her out, but she immediately comes to the front of the crate when he approaches, so hopefully it’ll be okay. Freddie doesn’t seem like the type to freak out and, like, sue if he gets scratched, anyway.

You unlock the crate and carefully take her out, making sure she’s cradled safely in your arms like she prefers,  motioning with your head for Freddie to follow you into the next room. This one is carpeted and scattered with cat toys and cozy chairs, meant to be comfortable for people to get acquainted with the cats before they make a final decision. Sometimes you just take cats in here to give them some time to run around and play, especially the ones who have been here longer and don’t get considered much anymore. You squat down low to put her down, not keen on her jumping down and scratching you up on the way. She rubs up against your legs as you stand, making her way over to Freddie to do the same.

“She’s never liked anyone this much before,” you comment as he slowly sits on the floor, smiling at Alice and scratching behind her ears.

“I like her too,” he replies. He looks up to give you a dazzling smile when Alice climbs into his lap, nudging his hand with her head until he resumes petting her. You’ve never seen her like this with anyone, and you’re not sure if you were jealous that she talk to him so quickly or that she gets to sit in his lap. Either way, you sit cross legged across from him to supervise. Alice comes over to get some attention from you as well, purring like a motorboat all the while.

“So, what’s your favorite movie?” He asked after a moment, watching intently when you look up from Alice. The two of you get caught up in talking again as Alice has the time of her life going back-and-forth between your laps. You’re engrossed in the story Freddie is telling about Mitch Marner and a bath bomb when the door opens just enough for Steph to peek in, ripping you out of whatever little bubble the three of you had been in. You’re expecting Alice to bolt across the room to hide in the corner, but instead she hunkers down in Freddie’s lap and hisses. Interesting.

“Hey Y/N ,” Steph says, “It’s two, do you want me to take over so you can go?” How was it two already? Damn, you really had lost track of time. You looked at Freddie and then back to Steph, suddenly feeling every bit like you’ve woken up at 5 AM on your day off and worked seven hours, which you did. But if Alice is finally going to find a forever home, you want to get a chance to say goodbye. But Freddie still has to talk to your manager and fill out all the paperwork, and you’re so fucking ready for a nap. And anyway, he’ll probably have to come back to pick her up tomorrow anyway, with how your boss likes to make sure people are completely certain before taking an animal.

“Y/N?” Steph calls you again. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you reply without thinking about it.

“Yeah, thank you,” you say, not happy to let this experience go, but knowing it’s for the best. Freddie stands when you do, Alice cradled in his arms. Steph introduces herself and puts Alice back in her cage, suffering a small scratch along the way. Freddie follows you back out to the front in silence, walking much closer than he had when he’d gotten here. You duck behind the front desk to grab your things, and are more than a bit surprised to see Freddie still standing on the other side of the counter once you’ve got your bag and coat in hand.

“Thank you for showing me around,” he says politely, looking a bit more subdued than he had just five minutes ago. Then again, you feel the same.

“Yeah, of course,” you reply easily, “My pleasure.” And you mean it. Usually when you say that it’s just out of habit or manners, but you’d actually had quite a bit of fun today. The two of you stand there silently for a probably too long stretch of time, neither quite willing to let this end. Finally, you make a decision and tear yourself away from where you’d gotten lost in his eyes. You grab a post it note and pen from behind the desk and scribble your name and number on it, because fuck it. Once in a lifetime, and all that. And if you’re wrong, no harm no foul, right?

“Let me know how it works out with Alice?” You request, handing him the note with a small smile. You really do want to know how it works out with her, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t mostly a selfish endeavor. His face lights up when he looks at the paper, smile firmly in place when he looks back to you.

“I will,” he says, a promise you’re sure he’ll keep. He folds the note in careful thirds, letting the adhesive strip hold it shut as he slips it into his pocket. Your heart is racing again, but in a much better way this time.

“Anyway, I should get going,” you say, extending a hand for him to shake, “It was nice meeting you.” He looks at your hand for a moment before turning his gaze back to your face, painfully deliberate when he takes your hand in his own and shakes it twice, lingers until you can’t help but think about how big and warm his hand is around yours. You both drop the hold at the same time, and Freddie’s smile returns, much softer this time.

“See you around, Y/N,” he says, and he will, if you have anything to say about it. Your boss comes in as you’re shrugging on your coat, and you watch him turn a bit more professional, greeting her and shaking her hand briskly. You throw your bag over your shoulder and dig out your keys before heading out the door, one more glance over your shoulder in case this is the last time you see him. He’s already looking.

Once in your car, waiting for it to warm up, you let out a sound that had been trapped in your chest since he came in, and rest your head on the freezing steering wheel. Holy shit. You just gave Freddie Andersen your phone number. You flirted with Freddie Andersen and then gave him your number. Alice provides some plausible deniability, but you’re pretty sure you both know what this is really about. You think about it the entire drive home, considering what to do if he actually does text you, and how to not seem like you have a pathetic schoolgirl crush on him even though you do, and how he had been the one to initiate non-pet-related conversation, and if that means as much as you think it does, and a million other things. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t think to check your phone until you get through your front door, which is probably good for traffic safety, but whatever. You force yourself to hang up your coat, put away your bag, and take off your shoes at the door before daring to touch your phone at all.

Nothing.

Well, it’s only been like half an hour, so that’s reasonable, right? He’d just gone into a meeting when you left, so he’s probably just still busy. Yeah. You’re actually tired, so you settle in for a nap before dinner. Maybe you toss and turn for longer than usual, and maybe you dream of tabby cats and empty inboxes, but no one can prove any of that.

You wake up groggy after the sun has set, though that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s particularly late, this time of year. The clock beside your bed says it’s not even six yet, which isn’t bad at all. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, wondering what you should get your brother for his birthday and not coming up with anything good, you haul yourself out of bed to make dinner. The plan had been to heat up some leftovers, but you’re kind of in the mood to do something with your hands right now, so you make some chicken and rice and green beans. Typically you would be listening to music as you cook, but you left your phone in your room, so you just sing little snatches of whatever songs come to mind.

After a dinner eaten while not-really-watching some show on Netflix your friend had suggested, you go back to your room. Maybe you should just go to bed early tonight. It’s not like you have anything else to do, or even really want to do anything. Luckily, you’re still in your sleep clothes from your nap, so you just cuddle back up in bed and habitually grab your phone to scroll social media for a bit before bed. Maybe you should read some more of that book you haven’t touched since last week. Except there’s a message from an unknown number amongst your notifications, and you don’t even consider anything before immediately opening it.

Hey Y/N it’s Freddie from the shelter. Thanks for your help today.

Okay, this is fine. This is totally cool, and you’re not clutching your phone to your chest like a teenager.

You’re welcome! Did it work out with Alice?

You’re expecting to have to wait again, because guys are like that when it comes to texting, but his response only takes a minute or two.

Yes, they said I can pick her up tomorrow

There’s a little smiley at the end, which you aren’t expecting from such a seemingly serious guy. The grey bubble with dots pops up and vanishes, comes back a second later and is replaced by a message.

Will you be there?

You won’t, because Sunday is your one true “day off” every week, but you find yourself considering showing up anyway.

No, it’s my day off

You tack on a :/ face, making sure it doesn’t get replaced with an emoji, because everyone knows nothing conveys the emotion of :/ . Again the dots pop up and disappear, over and over. You’re starting to think it’s just a glitch when it stops, but nothing comes through for long moments.

You could come visit her at mine some time, if you wanted. I’m sure she’ll miss you.

Alright, cool. Cool cool cool, totally not a big deal, everything is chill. You’re not screaming into your pillow at all, not even a little bit. Okay. It takes a moment to collect yourself and figure out what the fuck to say to that, but you don’t want him to think you don’t want that, so you eventually give up and press send with whatever’s in the text field.

Sure! I’ll miss her too.

And maybe when you say “I’ll miss her too” what you mean is “I’ll miss you”, but no jury could convict you. You’ve known him for a day and you already know he’s going to be stuck in your brain for a long time.

How’s Friday? I could make dinner.

That’s like. That’s definitely a date, right? Like this is all a very thinly veiled excuse for a date. You’re like 98% sure. And even if it isn’t, you’ll still get to see Alice, so it works out either way. You agree to Friday and a time, chatting a bit afterward about nothing in particular. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, looking forward to Friday, whatever it may be.

It started with Instagram.

You hadn’t thought anything of it, posting to your story about how excited you were to go to the NWHL All Star Weekend. You’d saved up for months, treated yourself to a nice hotel room, and you were all ready and dolled up, wearing your Hilary Knight jersey and a backwards cap with a bi pride flag on it. You’d managed to get a picture of your back and posted it to your insta story. You location-tagged your hotel (it was fancy, you were a little proud that you’d saved up enough to treat yourself there) and you only hesitated a moment before deciding to tag Hilary herself in it, too. You hadn’t expected a response, you hadn’t even really expected her to see it. And if she did, it was just so she knew she had some support there coming from you.

Ten minutes later as you brushed your teeth, your phone pinged with a notification.

Lookin good! 😍 🙌

At first, you thought it was from your friends, but then you saw the username and nearly dropped your phone in the bathroom sink.

Hilary. Knight.

Holyshit.

You eventually got your shit together, but you were still too afraid to answer, so you just let it be. Until later when you got to the rink to watch the skills competition. You were right at the glass from the get-go, taking as many pictures on your phone as you could. At one point, Hilary skated right past you, no helmet on, grinning wildly. You got an incredible close-up. She looked so happy, so free, so beautiful.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you opened your Insta DMs and sent the pic to Hilary with the exact same thing she’d sent you earlier.

Lookin good! 😍 🙌

You settled in to watch the skills competition and nearly forgot about the message until you got back to your hotel afterwards. The all-star game itself wasn’t until the next day and you had some time to kill, wondering if you should grab dinner or something. You opened up UberEats when a notification came through on your phone.

Hilary Knight followed you on Instagram.

You were still staring at the phone in your hands with complete shock when a second notification came through. Another DM. From her.

Great pic 😉

You clicked the notification and just stared at the message for a while as a second one came through.

Looks like we’re staying in the same hotel. I’m meeting a friend for drinks and we’re grabbing dinner at the hotel restaurant after. You want to join?

You blinked a few times as a third came through. Then more.

Nothing funny or anything (I mean you’re gorgeous but I don’t want to assume that bi = you’re into threesomes because fuck that’s annoying, right?)

But also if you want to, I sure wouldn’t say no.

He probably wouldn’t either.

But no pressure, seriously.

Love to buy you dinner, though. At least as a thanks for taking that dope pic (can I post that btw?)

Ok now that I’ve sent you like 30 messages I’m just gonna let you do your thing here 👉👉

It took you the better part of a minute to get over the shock and answer.

Yes. To all of it. Yes to posting the picture, yes to dinner or drinks, and maybe yes to other things?

Your answer came back immediately.

👍 Meet you at the bar at the restaurant in 30?

You sent a thumbs up emoji back. Then, after a little debate, you followed up with your phone number. Just in case.

You took a quick shower, shaving and exfoliating as much as you could in the limited time you had. You toweled off and checked your phone to find a text from a new number.

It’s Hilary. From Instagram. Looking forward to seeing you tonight, Y/N 😄

You didn’t pack all that much with you, but you managed to find a yellow cotton dress that looked cute and was comfortable. You’d planned on wearing it on your drive home so you didn’t have to bother with jeans, but it was your cutest option at the moment. You put on some makeup and a little product in your damp hair to make sure it didn’t get too frizzy and declared yourself the best you could get with your limited resources. You sent off a quick text to Hilary.

On my way 😃

You got down to the bar, looking for Hilary and her friend. You saw her long hair and approached slowly, only pausing when you saw who her friend was.

“A buddy” turned out to be Freddie fucking Andersen.

And he looked just as good as Hilary did.

Jesus, you weren’t sure you’d survive this dinner.

You did survive the dinner. Hilary was warm and engaging. Freddie had introduced himself to you quietly, but eventually, he was just as welcoming as Hilary. You weren’t great at social situations with new people normally, but talking with them was easy. Hilary’s bright enthusiasm and Freddie’s dry humour meshed perfectly and had you feeling completely at ease. You weren’t sure if the aforementioned “other things” were still on the table. You would be absolutely down if they were, but even if they weren’t, you enjoyed dinner and thought you may have found one, or even two new friends.

The three of you split a giant chocolate lava cake, crowded together in the half-circle booth. You giggled to yourself as Hilary took a piece right off of Freddie’s spoon and Freddie gasped in mock-shock.

You leaned forward to grab a spoonful of the homemade whipped cream and you felt a hand slide across your lower back. You turned toward Hilary, grinning so that the woman didn’t move her hand away. You settled back against her, enjoying the feeling of her thumb sliding back and forth over the soft fabric of your dress. Her hand went higher to settle her arm around your shoulders and you noticed on a quick glance that Freddie seemed to be enjoying you licking the whipped cream off your spoon.

Maybe those Other Things were still on the table, after all.

Hilary leaned close to your ear, your hair tickling your neck as she whispered. “My room? And do we invite Fred?”

Okay. Definitely on the table.

“Yeah,” you breathed, leaning into Hilary. “And yeah.”

Hilary’s room was a few floors up from yours and the elevator ride was humming with unspoken energy. Hilary’s arm was still around your shoulders and Freddie was looking at the two of you as though you were the real dessert.

You looked between them. “Are you two… like… together?”

Freddie shook his head no. “We used to be, but we’re just friends now.”

“Sometimes we meet up when we’re both in the same place,” Hilary added. “But yeah. Just friends, now.”

You blamed your nerves for the lack of brain-to-mouth filter when you spoke next. “Too much gorgeous for one relationship?”

Hilary snorted and turned to press a kiss to your temple. “Something like that, babe,” she said against your hair.

When you got into Hilary’s room, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and you turned to Freddie. He approached you slowly, reaching out toward you but halting his hand.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “You’re definitely okay with this?”

You smiled softly, stepping closer and grabbing his hand to put it on your hip yourself. His large fingers curled into your soft skin as he dipped down to kiss you slow and searching. He was a patient kisser, coaxing your lips open and by the time you pulled apart for air, you weren’t quite sure you remembered how to breathe.

“Jesus, that’s hot,” you heard from behind you. You turned toward Hilary, Freddie’s hand still on your hip.

Where Freddie was a patient, intense kisser, Hilary was indulgent and fiery. She read you instantly, finding what you liked and chasing it down with a firm tenacity. She pulled your lower lip between her teeth before swallowing your resulting whimper in another kiss, deep and bruising enough that it pushed you back into Freddie’s chest.

Freddie’s hands slid around between you and Hilary, hands splaying across your stomach. You weren’t built like either of them, nor were you all that thin. You flinched a little away from his hand, a little self-conscious about the soft skin he found there.

“Stop that,” Freddie said, voice gruff as he moved one hand to pull your hair to one side so Hilary could suck a bruise into your neck. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You felt your cheeks redden, and it only got worse when Hilary nipped at the newly-created hickey before agreeing. “He’s right.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Anything that came to mind was either self-deprecating or just awkward so you opted for letting it go and tugging at Hilary’s blouse until she relented, stepping back just long enough to tug it up and over her head.

Jesus Christ. Her arms. “Just fuck me up,” you thought, only realizing you actually said it out loud when Freddie chuckled and Hilary all-out laughed. She was still grinning when she pulled you into another kiss.

Freddie had moved into your peripheral vision, pulling off his grey henley and undershirt. You lost track of him for a moment as you closed your eyes, one hand sliding up to the soft cotton of Hilary’s bra, tugging one of the cups down to thumb at her nipple. Freddie moved back behind you and you leaned back, using him as a bit of a wall.

Hilary arched into your hand and you repeated it with your other hand, shifting a little so her legs were straddling your thigh. She shifted one of her legs up, Freddie seamlessly grabbing her thigh so she could roll her hips into your thigh. Her lips were pink and puffy and she looked so fucking beautiful.

“Bed?” you asked them both and the three of you reluctantly untangled. Hilary pushed her jeans down, stepping out of them before guiding you to the bed. She’d hiked your dress up over your hips before you sat down. You marveled at her coordination as she pulled your dress over your head while simultaneously settling herself on your lap. Your hands slid up her thighs, feeling her muscles flex beneath your palms. Freddie was standing, silently watching and lazily palming himself through his jeans.

“Fred and I are probably gonna fight over who gets to eat you out, fair warning,” Hilary hummed against your lips and you cut your eyes to Freddie, then back.

“Both?” you grinned as you pulled away, unhooking Hilary’s bra and tossing it aside. “Both is good.”

“I like the way you think,” Hilary laughed. Her laugh quickly turned into a moan as you slid a hand between her legs. You could feel her wet through the cotton of her panties and you shifted a little, tightening your thighs in response to the warm heat that rushed through you.

“Freddie?” you finally asked, reaching out to him. You felt a little bad he was so quiet, just watching for a bit. He seemed fine with it though, but just as happy to step out of his jeans and kneel on the bed, catching your lips again. He started to unhook your bra strap as Hilary worked her lips up his neck. When he finally pulled his lips from yours to catch Hilary’s, you watched, dazed for a moment before finishing what Freddie started and getting your bra out of the way.

They moved seamlessly together and watching them was like watching a secretive, sensual dance and you shivered a little at the idea that you not only got to witness this beauty, but also participate.

Freddie broke the kiss and guided you back to lie in the center of the bed, eyes trailing over your body as he gazed approvingly. “Since I’m a gentleman,” he said, teasing as he smirked at Hilary. “You can taste her first.”

Freddie ignored Hilary’s triumphant grin as he tipped his head to kiss across your collarbone and down your chest between your breasts. You were pretty well-endowed, but you’d never really considered your breasts a huge erogenous zone before. As Freddie’s stubble scraped over your nipple before he flicked his tongue across it, you realized may have been mistaken.

Hilary, meanwhile, was sucking little bruises into the skin of your hips, still teasing around your panties. She nuzzled over your center, still covered by the soft cotton, and breathed you in. You rolled your hips toward her and whined low in your throat.

Freddie swallowed your moan in a kiss as he palmed your breasts, causing you to arch up into him. You felt all lit up, just shy of overwhelmed from the attention you were getting. You needed something to focus on, so you slid your hand into Freddie’s boxer-briefs and wrapped your hand around his semi-hard cock. You stroked lightly, but mostly you just wanted to feel the weight of him in your hand, occasionally thumbing over the slit, spreading drops of precum around the head.

By the time Hilary finally stopped teasing and started working your panties down your legs, Freddie was lazily fucking into your hand while he alternated teasing at your breasts with his mouth and kissing you slow and tender.

Finally, you felt Hilary’s mouth on you. She spread your lips apart with her fingers and licked the flat of her tongue up your slit slow and hard. You whimpered into Freddie’s mouth, eventually breaking the kiss when Hilary’s lips closed around your folds, sucking them into her mouth.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even knowing what you were begging for.

Hilary moved your thighs over her shoulders then zig-zagged her tongue over your clit. Your thighs shivered, feeling the muscles jump without you even trying.

“So beautiful,” Freddie said, sliding a hand down one of your thighs, squeezing, then giving it a little slap and watching it jiggle. You flushed, a little embarrassed but he pinned you with a look.

“I mean it,” he said, moving back up your body to nibble at your jawline. “I wish Hils brought her strap-on. You’d look so good with your legs wrapped around her while she fucks you.”

“Guess you’ll have to do it instead,” you said, your voice breathy as Hilary worked her mouth over your pussy. You felt her chuckle against you as she slid two fingers into you. You arched into it, seeking more until she crooked her fingers up and the pads slid across your G-spot.

“Guess I will,” Freddie agreed, grinning and palming his cock. “Keep it warm until then?”

You nodded and opened your mouth, tongue covering your bottom teeth. He reached up to put a few pillows under your shoulders and head, making sure you were comfortable before sliding his cock into your mouth, just enough so that you didn’t choke. You tasted the salty precum. You closed your mouth over him, suckling lightly, but he shook his head. “Just like this. Is that okay?”

You nodded as much as you could, keeping your mouth still, just letting his cock rest in your mouth. He cupped your cheek in his hand, running his thumb across your cheekbone. “So beautiful,” he breathed. “So good for us. Is Hils making you feel good, darling?”

You hummed your assent against his cock and he grinned, keeping his hand on your cheek and a steady stream of dirty talk that was, quite frankly, doing a lot for you.

Soon enough, Hilary had your thighs shivering around her head as you came hard, your cry muffled by Freddie’s cock. Hilary kissed her way back up your body, and Freddie took his cock out. You had just enough time to suck in a breath before Hilary’s lips captured yours. Freddie’s hand went between your legs, staying away from your still oversensitive clit.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” he asked, sliding three thick fingers into you. You whimpered and nodded against Hilary’s lips.

You broke the kiss. “Yeah and-” you broke off on a sigh as he slowly slid his fingers in and out.

“And what?” Hilary prompted, passing her hand over your breasts, then down your ribs. “What do you want, babe?”

“I want-” you breathed, trying to gather your thoughts into words and make those words come out of your mouth. It was a lot harder than you thought, but eventually, you choked it out. “Want you to ride my face while- while he fucks me. Want my mouth on you.”

“Fuck,” the word sounded like it’d been punched out of Hilary and she stopped her gentle exploration to reward you with a hard, deep kiss. “Fuck yes, baby. That sounds- yes.”

“Just-” you added quietly, not wanting to disappoint them, but the way they both immediately stopped and listened to you had you relaxing and feeling warm. You turned your gaze to Freddie. “Be a little gentle at first? I get uh… oversensitive for awhile after…”

Freddie nodded and settled between your thighs, dipping to press a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Of course, dove. Of course.”

Freddie hiked you up a little, then slowly, gently, patiently slid into you and you breathed out slowly, feeling the best kind of full. Hilary put her hand on your cheek, guiding you to look at her.

“You ready?” she asked.

You nodded, more than a little desperate to taste her.

“Keep your hands on my thighs and tap if you need me to get up, babe, okay?” she asked and you nodded, nearly making grabby hands for her as she settled over your face.

“Love watching this,” Freddie said, rocking slow and patient in and out of you.

Hilary grabbed onto the headboard and slowly lowered herself onto you. You opened your mouth, flattened out your tongue and let her settle the flat of your tongue exactly where she wanted it. You lapped slow, moving in tandem with Hilary’s gyrating hips. Freddie’s cock felt perfect, just keeping you turned on while you ate Hilary out from under her.

You speared your tongue at her entrance while the tip of your nose brushed her clit and you two kept a slow, steady build up for a while, giving you time to breathe and her time to build up to a good orgasm. You could tell when she got closer because she let her body do the talking for exactly what she wanted. Eventually, she was just grinding her clit down on your outstretched tongue while her thighs shivered beneath your palms. Freddie sped up his thrusts, moving a little faster and a great deal harder as Hilary slowly moved off of you.

After a few moments, you pushed at Freddie’s chest before turning the two of you over so you could ride him.

“Jesus, you look good like this,” Freddie breathed as you started grinding down on him. You started off slow, but you could tell he wanted more. You leaned forward a little, steadying yourself with your hands on his chest, and moved faster. You felt Hilary’s lips on your neck and her hand between your legs, sliding across your clit.

“Fuck I’m gonna…. If you keep doing that, I’m gonna-” you started, breath stuttering.

“S’fine,” Freddie said, digging his heels into the bed and thrusting up to meet you, finding a speed that worked for him. “I’m close too, babe.”

You shuddered and came around Freddie and not long after, you felt his hands tighten on your thighs and he held himself up as he finished into the condom.

You moved off of him on shaking legs, and fell to the bed. Hilary curled up beside you and Freddie took a few breaths before getting up to dispose of the condom. He came back with two warm rags, carefully cleaning both you and Hilary up before curling up on your other side.

“That was… holy shit…” you finally said and you felt Hilary grin against the bare skin of your shoulder blade.

“Yeah? Glad you enjoyed,” Hilary said, twining her fingers with yours and settling your joined hands on your hip.

“I never actually got to taste you, dove,” Freddie said as he hit the light on the nightstand then rolled over and threw his leg over the two of you. “In the morning? Then I’ll take you both to breakfast. I know a good place.”

You hummed an assent and gave a sleepy nod.

“Damn gentleman, you are,” Hilary said, nuzzling into your neck. “Sounds good, though, Fred.”

Hilary then nudged you a little. “Fred’s got plans tomorrow night though but I’d love it if you stayed in town a little longer, Y/N.”

You were more than a little shocked at her admission, but you quickly recovered. “Y-yeah. Absolutely. Yeah.”