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𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐳𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 It Had to Be You Part One Part Two We Found Love A World Alone I've Got You Under My Skin Part One Part Two Part Three Gold Rush If You're Too Shy (Let Me Know) 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐳𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 Fernando and his Baseball Player Girlfriend Fernando and his Popstar girlfriend 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐳𝐚 𝐱 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬!𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 Nomad Second Nature

𝐀 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 The World We Knew

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N was considered the best goalie in all of college hockey. However, she knew that if anyone, whether it be her teammates, the media, or the fans, were to find out that she was actually a woman behind the mask, her reputation would be screwed and her dreams of getting drafted into the NHL would go down the drain. So, she did would anyone would do if they were trying to be perceived as a man while actually being a woman: She went by her first initial and her last name, she rarely took off her mask, and she did not interact with her teammates off the ice. Y/N was a ghost, a phantom, who came to life only on the ice. The only person that knew of her true identity was Coach Jensen, who was willing to overlook her flaws (being a woman) because of her talent.

After transferring to Briar from Harvard, Y/N finds herself desperately trying to avoid her new teammates, who are keen on getting to know their goalie better, and keep her identity hidden from the world.

"Can you hurry up?"

"Let me think! I've barely had time to decide. Stop rushing me."

Dean groaned. "Tucker, we come here almost every day." His elbows were resting on the table and his hands cradled his face. "Just order something."

"I'm trying to decide between a burger or the Turkey Club," Tucker replied, holding his chin while looking over the menu. "What do you recommend, Hannah?"

Boredly, Hannah tapped her pen against her notepad. She shrugged. "They're both good." Dean, Logan, and Garrett groaned. "Why not just get both if you can't decide? You can just take the leftovers home."

"But, I'm not that hungry," argued Tucker.

"I'm genuinely going to starve," Logan whined. "I can feel myself wasting away over here. I'm just skin and bones."

The door to Malone's swung open, but no one seem to pay it mind as that always happened. It slammed shut. Hannah glanced at the door, and then back to the table, but when her mind finally caught up with what she saw, she turned back to the door.

"Hey, Y/N!" Hannah greeted her new friend and neighbor. All four heads that were sitting at her table snapped to the front door, where the girl Hannah had called out to was standing. "What brings you around here?"

Y/N smiled awkwardly. She was wearing an oversized Harvard hockey hoodie and black leggings. She stood, rocking on her feet with a platter of cookies in her arms.

"Oh, well, I just wanted to drop these off." Y/N gestured to the baked goods in her hands. "Chocolate lava cookies, for you and Allie. Just as a thank you."

Hannah's jaw dropped. She stared down at the treats, which had just been shoved into her hands, and then back up at Y/N. "If I wasn't dating Justin, I would jump your bones right here, right now."

"Um, thanks..." Y/N trailed off. She was never good at flirting, even if was jokingly with her friends.

"I'm gonna go show these to Allie," Hannah told her. "Hey, you wanna sit down and order something? I'll be back in a few." She didn't give Y/N much of a choice before she moved away from the table and towards the kitchen.

Y/N glanced at the table, and when her eyes landed on Garrett, she withheld a groan. "Uhm, don't worry, I'm not gonna sit with you guys."

"Any friend of Hannah's is a friend of ours," Tucker said with a friendly smile. "We have plenty of room. Dean, let her get in the booth."

The blond slid out of the booth, just like Tucker said to, sending the girl a flirty smile as he stood next to her. "Nice to meet you." Y/N sent him a awkward smile in return. She begrudgingly sunk into booth.

She was now sandwiched between Garrett and Dean.

She didn't dare glance at Garrett. She knew he was already looking at her. She could practically feel his stare burning into the side of her head.

"Y/N, you are literally a Heaven-sent angel," Allie sang as she and Hannah walked back towards the table. Both girls were holding cookies, and had huge smiles on their faces. "These are amazing! You could make a business out of this."

"It's no big deal." Y/N waved it off. "I just wanted to thank you guys again for being so welcoming."

"So that's your name," Garrett realized. "Y/N." She gritted her teeth and shot him a glare.

Allie blinked. She and Hannah exchanged knowing smiles. "Have you guys met before?"

"Yeah, she was on her knees for me yesterday."

Every single person's head turned towards Garrett. Y/N clenched her eyes shut. The absolute nerve of this guy. If they weren't teammates, she would've paid the guy who drove the zamboni to run him over during practice.

"Uh, what?" Hannah asked.

"No, that's-" Y/N yelped. She groaned and held her hands up. "I dropped my keys under his car, and I had to bend down to get them, okay? That's all. That's it. Nothing more than that." She, for the first time, turned and glared at Garrett, who smiled back at her in a way that would make every girl in a five-mile radius go crazy.

"Right," Allie giggled. "You want anything to eat while we're here?"

"Can I please have the Meat Lovers' pizza?" Y/N wondered. She glanced over at Tucker, who was still looking at his menu. "You wanna split it with me, Tucker?"

He looked up and shrugged. "Sure. Can we do extra pepperoni?"

"You read my mind," Y/N agreed.

"Coming right up," Hannah said. She glanced at Y/N and Garrett once more and wiggled her brows before she and Allie left, whispering quietly to themselves as they did.

Y/N sat uncomfortably in the booth. When she tried to shift in her spot, Garrett's thigh grazed her own. She stopped trying to get comfortable and accepted her fate.

"So, are you into hockey?" Logan wondered. When Y/N raised her brows, he gestured to her hoodie. She glanced down and internally scolded herself for wearing it.

"Not really," she lied.

"She has a Marc-André Fleury keychain," Garrett interjected.

Her fists clenched. "Hey, quick question: Do you ever stop talking?"

"You know you like the sound of my voice," Garrett teased her.

"Do you know anything about the Harvard goalie?" questioned Dean from the other side of her. "He just transferred here, but he's a pretty quiet dude."

She tensed up ever-so-slightly. She had just been asked to talk about herself and her hockey capabilities to her new teammates that didn't actually know that they were her new teammates. "Uhm, not really. The guy was basically a ghost on campus." Y/N played with a rogue string on her hoodie sleeve. "He- Uh, is he any good?"

"He's insane," Tucker exclaimed. "He saved every one of G's shots yesterday without even trying."

"Wow, that's pretty impressive," Y/N agreed.

"It wasn't that impressive," muttered Garrett. "The guy got lucky, that's all."

"Something I bet you're unfamiliar with," Y/N quietly whispered as she cleared her throat. It was Garrett's turn to glare at her. Dean raised his brows in surprise while Tucker and Logan stifled their laughs behind fake coughs. "Is Briar any good at hockey?"

"Come to the game tomorrow and see for yourself," Dean said to her with a wink. "We're playing-"

"-Eastwood, yeah," Y/N said without thinking. She huffed an annoyed breath. "Their left wing is such an ass. Dude will fall down any time anyone touches him and will swear he got tripped."

Garrett smirked from beside her. He, not-so-subtly, put his arm on the back of the booth, his fingertips gracing Y/N's shoulder. "I thought you weren't into hockey," he pointed out.

"I-I'm not," she weakly protested. "Just stuff I heard on campus, that's all."

Luckily, before she could be interrogated any further, Hannah came by and dropped off the pizza that Y/N had ordered. Hannah sent a knowing smile as she glanced between Y/N and Garrett.

It was 3 A.M.

Most students at Briar at this time were either asleep, partying, or doing the deed. And if you were Y/N Y/L/N, you were at the gym.

Because you couldn't sleep. Because your mind was on its own, little treadmill and refused to let you sleep. Because it was your first game for the Briar Hawks, and not that you'd ever admit it, but you were terrified. Like, willing to go to the gym at 3 in the morning terrified because you'd rather exercise than wrestle with your own feelings.

So, Y/N stood in the workout facility at the Briar ice rink, her headphones on her head, standing in front of the mirror as she let her arm curl up and down with the weights in her hand.

As if it would take away all the anxiety she had. As if it would make her forget that she had a game tomorrow. As if it would make her forget everything that had happened at Harvard.

Big Shot by Billy Joel played in her headphones, the music a pathetic attempt to drown out her own thoughts. It wasn't working.

What it was successfully drowning out was the noise of her surroundings.

She thought she was alone.

Which is why, when someone tapped on her shoulder, she screamed and turned around. She ripped off her headphones and blindly shoved at the person's chest, hoping to create some distance.

"I have no money, what do you want from me?" Y/N cried, swatting at the person standing before her. Two large hands grabbed her wrists and prevented her from doing any more damage.

"Y/N, calm down."

She immediately froze. Her panic turned into annoyance.

Her eyes adjusted, and she craned her neck up to stare at the guy who had her wrists in his hands.

Y/N scoffed. "Are you following me?"

"Do you want me to follow you?" Garrett asked with a grin. "How'd you get in here, anyway? You got keys, or something?"

"Or something," Y/N decided on saying. Of course she had keys. Well, Jensen had keys, and she had borrowed them from him with the promise of giving them to him before the game tomorrow. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, and her eyes strayed from his face to his broad shoulders. "I'm here to work out, which is usually what people do in a gym. But, you probably know that, considering you went to Harvard, and stuff."

She rolled her eyes. "You're here to work out at 3 A.M. the morning you have a game? Overachiever much?"

"I work out when I'm stressed," Garrett told her pointedly. "Still doesn't explain why you're here."

Y/N reached down and picked her dropped headphones off the ground. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd try to tire myself out rather than just toss and turn the entire night."

"I know something else that could tire you out," Garrett offered, his eyebrows raised suggestively as he winked at her.

She wrinkled her nose. "In your dreams, dude. And in my nightmares." She turned back around, away from him, and so that she could look at her form in the mirror as she continued lifting her weights.

Garrett stiffened when his gaze landed on her back, where there was a large scar that started at her neck and ran down the curvature of her spine. It didn't look like a scar that happened on accident by a reckless child; It looked like the purposeful act caused by an adult who meant to do harm.

"Your back." The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, spoken by someone who was all too familiar with having to hide bruises and make up lies about scars on his hands.

Y/N didn't turn around, but he saw her eyes shift to the ground as he looked at her reflection in the mirror. "It's nothing," she immediately said. Garrett scoffed.

"Bullshit."

She turned over her shoulder. "It's nothing," she repeated, more firmly this time, but there was no trace of hostility in her voice. She just sounded tired.

What bothered Garrett wasn't her avoidance of the topic, or the way she didn't even look at him when she spoke. It was the tone of her voice, and how she actually sounded like she didn't care.

And he hated that. He hated how someone could make something like that seem so small, so miniscule, so unimportant. Something that had clearly caused her pain.

Something that had hurt her.

It made Garrett's jaw clench. He told himself it was out of empathy, and that it was because he knew what she was dealing with. He told himself it was because he was used to covering up bruises and scratches, and lying to people just to protect himself.

"Garrett," she called his name gently. He hadn't realized that she had turned around to face him. Her face was full of concern. Why was she concerned about him when she was the one with the a scar the size of his hockey stick? "I'm fine. Really, it's nothing. I'm okay."

They didn't speak for the rest of the time that both of them were there. Garrett stole glances when he thought she wasn't looking, and Y/N pretended she wasn't intentionally walking past him whenever she switched activities.

When Y/N grabbed her bag and headed for the door, before she could open it, a large hand grabbed her bicep. It took all of her restraint to not flinch at the sudden touch.

"Let me take you back to your dorm," Garrett offered, though it wasn't much of an offer, as it was more of a gentle command. "Please. I don't want you walking around alone when it's this dark out."

"You really don't have to," Y/N weakly protested. "Really. It's like a ten minute walk."

"Yeah, well, it's a two minute drive. One minute, if I ignore the campus speed limit." At Garrett's lame joke, or his threat to speed, Y/N smiled softly. He felt a sense of relief bloom in his chest; At least she liked him enough to smile at one of his jokes. "Please. It's the least I can do after I basically implied that-"

"-That I gave you head to my two new friends and three of your teammates?" Y/N interjected, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to look mad.

Garrett grimaced. "Yeah..."

"You're right; It is the least you can do." Y/N picked up her bag again and slung it over her shoulder. "Alright, lead the way, Captain."

Garrett was lucky Y/N wasn't facing him, or else she would've seen the flush of his face and the way he had to adjust his sweatpants.

Garrett's car was nice. It was the kind of car that Y/N knew she would never be able to afford, at least not while she was a broke college student that was surviving on nothing but protein bars and Red Bulls.

It silently made her blood boil with envy, though she would never admit it out loud.

She hated that she would never reach his level success, and that she would never be as highly regarded as Garrett, despite the fact that they both played the same sport and were both highly sought-after NHL prospects.

Y/N hated the fact that no matter how well she played hockey, no matter how many games she won or how many shots she saved, she would never be as respected as Garrett. She would never be respected as her teammates were.

Why? Because she wasn't a man. It was as simple as that. Her lack of penis and the fact that she had boobs was the sole reason that she would never be treated with the same amount of respect and dignity that all hockey players were treated with.

"So, are you going to the game later?" asked Garrett as he reversed out of his parking spot. He had put his arm across the back of Y/N's seat, and she hated herself for how her mouth almost watered at the sight of the veins on his arm.

The girl shrugged. "I don't think so," she answered.

"Why not? Because of the obvious lie that you keep telling everyone that you're 'not into hockey'?" Garrett mocked her, causing Y/N to glare at him. "C'mon, you know more about Eastwood than I do."

"Fine," Y/N relented. "It's not that I don't like hockey. You caught me. I just, um, I'm just not into big crowds, y'know?"

"If that's the problem, then I can just get you a seat in a quieter section, or-"

"Why do you care so much if I'm at the game?" wondered Y/N with an uncomfortable laugh. "You don't know me."

"I want to."

She hated how Garrett was looking at her. Not because of how his gaze darted from her face to her lips, or because of how his arm was still slung over the back of her seat and she could feel the warmth of his body.

She hated how Garrett was looking at her because it seemed too real, too honest, too genuine.

And she was terrified.

Tag list:

Garrett Graham prided himself in always being the first to the rink before morning practice and the last one to leave after practice was over. He enjoyed having the rink to himself for a little while before having to deal with the chaos of the entire team.

So, when he had finally laced up his skates and walked out of the locker room and towards the ice, an immediate frown formed on his face when he realized he wasn't the first one on the ice this morning. He took off his helmet and narrowed his eyes.

Instead of him being the sole one on the rink, he would be forced to share it with whomever had beaten him.

"Who is that?" Garrett asked Coach Jensen, motioning towards the player that was donning full goalie gear and was skating suicides like there was no tomorrow.

Coach Jensen looked up, and his expression faltered ever-so slightly when he followed Garrett's gaze, which was on the team's new goalie. Jensen cleared his throat. "That's the new goalie," he managed to get out. "Transfer from Harvard."

Garrett's brows shot up. "Harvard," he repeated. "He any good?"

"Only let in 5 goals last season," Jensen told the team captain. "Despite the fact that Harvard's defense was absolute crap."

"You serious?" Garrett's mouth fell open in shock.

"If you don't believe me, see for yourself." The coach gestured towards the player on the ice. Garrett shrugged. He was never one to back down from a challenge.

The captain of the Hawks put his helmet back on and skated towards his new teammate. When the goalie caught sight of the player skating towards him, the goalie stopped dead on the ice and looked towards Garrett.

Garrett tried to get a look at the new goalie's face, but it was covered by the goalie mask. "You alright if I take some shots on you?"

Wordlessly, the goalie moved towards the net. The goalie's stick was tapped against the goal posts before the goalie turned around to see that Garrett had lined up about ten pucks in a straight line.

He raised his stick. The first shot when right at the goalie, whose glove caught the puck. Garrett huffed, but tried not to be bothered by it. It was only his first shot, he was confident the rest would go in the net.

Boy, was he wrong.

Every shot that Garrett attempted was saved. Not a single puck went in the net. The goalie didn't seem to be at all intimidated. Garrett bristled.

He was shocked. He was annoyed. He was, unfortunately, impressed.

With his now bruised ego, Garrett skated off the ice. The rest of the team had arrived at the rink, which meant that everyone had just seen what had happened. He hung his head slightly as he moved towards the rest of his teammates, while the goalie continued doing laps on the ice.

Dean was the first to speak. He whistled lowly and grimaced as Garrett took off his helmet, revealing his red face and his clenched jaw. "Dude, that was rough."

Garrett's response was immediate. "Shut the fuck up."

"I told you, Graham," Coach Jensen said with a confident smirk on his face. "Best damn goalie in the country."

"What's his name?" John Tucker asked, watching as the new goalie stretch on the ice.

Coach Jensen sucked in a breath. "Most people just call-" He cleared his throat. "-him by his last name. Y/L/N."

"Stupid, fucking hockey bag," Y/N grumbled, slinging the bag, which felt like it weight a tonne, over her shoulder. She was so irritated. She shouldn't picked a sport with less gear.

Her hair was sticking to the back of her neck. She smelled like rubber and male body spray that she had to walk through in the locker room. Her shoelace was untied, but she was too lazy to bend down and tie it, especially considering she was lugging around a bag that weighed around 30 pounds.

All Y/N wanted to do was go back to her dorm, take the coldest shower ever, and sleep for the rest of the day. And maybe eat some of the leftover Snickerdoodles that she had made the night before.

She reached into her back pocket and fished around for her car keys. When she finally reached them, they fell onto the pavement and below the pristine Jeep that stood before her.

"Fuck me in the ass!" Y/N swore. She dropped her hockey bag onto the pavement, and it landed on the ground below her with a loud thud. She groaned as she fell to her knees, blinding moving her hand under the car as her fingers searched for her keys.

Thank God the parking lot was empty, because if someone had seen her like this, with her ass basically in the air, looking like a madwoman, she would die of embarrassment and never-

"Can I help you?" A low voice said from above her. She clenched her eyes shut as her fingers graced the cool metal of her keys. She knew that voice. She had just spent the last two hours hearing that voice yell at all the hockey players, herself included.

She pushed herself to her knees, and then to her feet. Y/N's whole body ached. Her knees felt like rubber, and her feet felt like a cavern of blisters. How she was able to walk, she didn't know.

When she stood up and faced the man standing before her, her face grew hot. Garrett Graham, AKA the captain of her new hockey team and arguably the best collegiate player in the country, stood before her looking like something out of a dirty dream she would never admit to having.

He was standing, more like towering before her, a stupid smirk on his stupid, pretty face that she wanted to wipe off.

Or kiss off.

Wait, that's not-

"No, thank you," Y/N managed to say. "I just dropped my keys under your car. Sorry. Didn't mean to get in your way, or anything."

Garrett, not so subtly, raked his eyes over Y/N's body, which was slightly gleaming in sweat from her workout. She was wearing a matching workout set and a zip-up hoodie. Her abs were visible due to her hoodie being unzipped, and her hair was frizzy from her workout and from wearing a helmet all practice.

"No problem at all," Garrett murmured. She pursed her lips together. He glanced down at her keys and quirked a brow at one of her keychains. "Is that a Marc-André Fleury keychain?"

"No." Her response was immediate.

"I'm literally looking right at it."

"Well, then you need to get your eyes checked, because it's not."

"Right." Garrett smiled smugly. Y/N wished she would've shot a puck at his mouth during practice. His smile was irritatingly perfect for a man who played a sport where teeth were routinely knocked out. He watched as Y/N bent down and picked up the bag, and how she tried to not grimace at the weight of the bag on her shoulder. "You need help with that?"

"Nope."

"You sure?" His eyes were swimming with amusement, while Y/N gritted her teeth. "What's in there?"

"Nothing." One of her skates fell out of the bag that she clearly hadn't zipped up all the way. Garrett looked down at the skate, then back at Y/N. "I don't know what that is."

He reached down at picked it up. "You skate?"

"Are you going to give me my skate back, or are you going to continue making me play this game of 20 Questions?"

"You haven't answered any of my questions honestly yet," Garrett retorted.

She reached forward and tugged her skate out of his grasp. "I don't owe you anything, Graham."

"You know my name?" Garrett wondered, that annoying smirk adorning his kissable lips once again. "That's not fair, I don't know yours."

"Tough break," Y/N responded. She turned around and began walking away, desperate to escape the social situation that she had found herself in.

"That's not fair!" shouted Garrett from where she had left him standing.

"Better luck next time!" She sent him a sarcastic wave before walking away from the captain and his jeep.

Her day had gone from mediocre, to bad, to awful. It was mediocre when she was at practice, it became bad when she was forced to interact with Garrett Graham because she had clumsily lost her keys under his car, and it became awful when she got back to her dorm and decided to eliminate her stress by baking.

Unfortunately, she had run out of sugar. The one thing she couldn't bake without.

"This is just great," she grumbled, staring at her unfinished cake batter. She had spent the last 10 minutes scouring her apartment for sugar, but she had no luck.

She wasn't about to waste her cake batter. She had to get over her fears and actually socialize.

She needed to ask her neighbors if they had sugar.

It was cliche, but it was better than going to the local market just for two cups of sugar. That would be even more socializing, and it would also require her spending money, which she didn't have a lot of.

Y/N put on her slippers and left her apartment. She was sweating slightly. She hated talking to new people.

With shaking hands, Y/N's fist tapped on the door before her. It was decorated in a vinyl, and had polaroids of two girls taped on it. They were both very pretty.

A girl with curly hair and a cute tube top with mom jeans opened the door. "Hi, can I help you?"

"Um, yeah, sorry, hi, I moved in next door, and um, I was wondering if I could borrow any sugar that you might have? I'm making Strawberry Shortcake, and I stupidly didn't make sure I had all the ingredients beforehand," Y/N rambled. She awkwardly smiled and realized how fast she was talking. "Sorry."

The girl smiled. "Don't worry about it," she told Y/N. "I think we have some in the kitchen. C'mon, you can come in."

"Thank you so much," Y/N said. "I just moved in, and I haven't really had time to go to the store, or anything." She awkwardly trailed after the girl, her fingers laced together.

"No way! Did you transfer here?"

"Yeah, I, um, transferred from Harvard, actually." Y/N watched as the girl searched through her kitchen cabinets. "Tuition was crazy expensive, and I couldn't afford to pay it."

With sugar in her hand, the girl turned around. "Oh, that's awful," she lamented. "But, hey, Briar is great, and I'm sure you're going to love it here!"

"I hope," Y/N replied. "Thank you so much. If you'd like, I can bring you and your roomate a piece of the cake when it's done. Just as a thank you for helping me and being so generous."

"Awe, how sweet!" The girl exclaimed. "My name's Allie, by the way, and my roommate Hannah isn't here right now."

"I'm Y/N." Y/N introduced herself. "Thanks again. I'll be sure to bring two pieces by along with some Cool Whip and whipped cream, in case you like both."

Allie grinned. "I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship."

This was really, really, truly embarrassing. A few photos should not be making her feel like this.

He had told her about the photoshoot beforehand, but Y/N had assumed that it would be a regular, normal, football photoshoot where he'd be in uniform. Fernando had neglected to tell his girlfriend that his upcoming photoshoot would basically be just a glorified thirst trap for the world to see.

Y/N was doing dishes when he had texted her that the article had been published. Her phone, quite literally, fell out of her hands and onto the floor as she stared at the pictures of her boyfriend that had been published for anyone to see.

From then on, she was not able to function properly. All because of those photos. Every time she tried to do something, whether it was her own work or chores around their shared apartment, Y/N was distracted.

It was pathetic in her opinion, getting so flustered over pictures of her own boyfriend. She couldn't help it, and she found herself saving each picture to her camera roll just so she could look at them over and over again. She felt like a creep, a stalker, obsessing over pictures of an athlete that she thought was hot.

But, this wasn't just some random athlete that was her celebrity crush; This was her boyfriend. The man that loved her, and the man that she had the privilege to love each day.

She was practically salivating as she scrolled through each picture. He was devastatingly handsome in an almost unfair way. Granted, he had always been attractive to her, and he would always tease her whenever he caught her staring.

Her head was clouded with one thing and one thing only: Fernando.

Y/N felt like a fangirl. She couldn't remember a time when she had been so distracted by just pictures. She had never felt like this. Her face felt hot, and her fingers trembled every time she scrolled through the collection of pictures.

In a huff, Y/N threw her phone onto the carpeted floor. Her body was spread out across the couch, and a pillow had been put over her face. She felt ashamed, for some odd reason, even though the man that she was currently thirsting over was her boyfriend.

"This is so pathetic," Y/N whined. She groaned into the pillow before she put it back in its rightful place on the couch and sat up. She glanced over at the time on the stove.

It was just around 5 o'clock, and Y/N had spent basically the entire day on her phone, foaming at the mouth at pictures of her boyfriend.

Not a productive day, to say the least.

Using all of her strength, Y/N managed to trudge to the kitchen. She popped open the fridge and immediately reached for the leftovers from a few nights before. The last thing she felt like doing was actually cooking an actual meal.

Y/N was so engrossed in the process of reheating the food in the oven to notice that she was no longer alone. While she was busy unwrapping the tinfoil from the pan, the door to the apartment had opened.

Fernando stood in the threshold of the kitchen, wearing a white compression shirt and grey sweatpants. He's leaning against the wall, in a classic boyfriend stance, watching his girlfriend move effortlessly around the kitchen.

He cleared his throat. She practically jumped out of her skin at the sight of him.

Fernando Mendoza is an expert on two things: Football, and his girlfriend.

So, as soon as she turned to face him, he could tell something was wrong. To anyone else, Y/N would've looked normal. But to him, he knew that something was bothering her as soon as he met her eyes.

There was a crease in her brows, and the way her eyes flitted around the room made him frown.

"Oh, hi," Y/N finally said. She sounded flustered. "Sorry, I wasn't sure when you were gonna be home. You scared me."

Fernando stepped forward. His smile dropped immediately, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "You okay?" he asked. When he reached out to feel her face, she uncharacteristically flinched away, like she was afraid of his touch. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said in a rush. "Nothing's wrong, 'm fine. W-Why?"

"Baby, you seem... Off. Are you sure everything's okay?" Fernando seemed so sincere, so caring, it hurt her heart to not tell him the truth. On the other hand, telling him the truth would be so embarrassing that she'd probably never be able to look him in the eyes again.

So, she lied to him. Terribly.

Y/N pulled at a loose thread on her sleeve and shrugged. "I'm okay. Really, I'm just- Tired. You want dinner? I prepared one of your meals for you."

"I can do it." He swifty pressed a kiss to her forehead and squeezed her hip as he moved past her.

"Ok, well, um, I'm gonna shower, then," she told him. He wasn't able to say another word to her, because she was already leaving him all by himself in the kitchen.

Something was definitely wrong. He didn't know if he had something, or if someone else had bothered her. Was she overwhelmed with all the attention that had been on them because of the playoffs? Did he forget to get something from the store?

He didn't know what he had done, or what had happened to make her feel like this, but he knew he needed to fix it. He needed to apologize. He needed to make this right.

After finishing his dinner and promptly putting all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, he left the kitchen and entered his and Y/N's shared bedroom. From where he stood, he could hear the water running from the shower. Her pajamas were left on the bed, and so was her phone.

It took him a moment or two to realize, but Fernando realized that Y/N had accidentally left her phone on.

Now, Fernando wouldn't consider himself a jealous boyfriend. He didn't care if Y/N had guy friends, or if she followed other guys on Instagram, because above all, he trusted her.

However, he was a curious guy. He wasn't ever invasive of Y/N's privacy, and he had never even gone through her phone, because he believed that she was entitled to her own things and she didn't have to share everything with him.

As he glanced over at her phone with squinted eyes, he noticed that her phone had been left open on a picture of him. He frowned. It wasn't her lock screen, because that was a picture of him and her at a baseball game.

He knew he shouldn't have, but he moved closer to get a better look at her phone. When he finally got close enough to get a better look, he grinned.

There, on her phone, were the pictures from his GQ photoshoot.

The photos that had been taken for the photoshoot were a bit more scandalous than he would've liked, to be honest. He wasn't trying to show off or imply that he was available. He wouldn't do that to Y/N. But, the photographers and the representatives from GQ told him that everything would be in good taste, so he agreed.

Fernando didn't think the photos were anything spectacular. Sure, he looked pretty good, but it was nothing to shout about from the rooftops.

His girlfriend, however, seemed to think otherwise, judging by the fact that she had saved every picture from the article to her camera roll.

The door to the bathroom opened slowly. Y/N appeared, one towel wrapped around her body and her wet hair dripping down her back. Her face looked warm from the shower, and as soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked a bit panicked.

"Oh, hey," she said softly. "Sorry, did you need to shower, too?"

He shook his head. "No, I showered after practice." Y/N nodded. She moved towards the bed to get her pajamas, but Fernando swiftly grabbed them and handed them to her. "Here." His hands purposefully grazed hers.

"T-Thanks." She hurriedly rushed back into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Fernando couldn't help but grin. He knew it was wrong to tease her like this, but he had never seen Y/N so flustered. She was usually the master at acting cool, calm, and collected, so this was a different side of her that he had never seen.

While Y/N was in the bathroom, he had taken off his practice gear and put on a pair of grey sweatpants. No shirt. He then laid himself on the bed, his back against the headboard as he waited for Y/N to finish getting dressed.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Y/N was trying to hold it together. Her hands were literally shaking as she brushed out her wet hair. This was so, so, pathetic.

She took a few more moments before she left the bathroom again and entered the bedroom. Y/N tried her best not to look at Fernando. Though, as she quickly glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, she could tell he was shirtless.

Y/N sighed softly as she moved to her side of the bed. She grabbed her phone, which was on the nightstand, and climbed into bed. She had been in bed for only a few seconds before she was tugged into Fernando's lap, his arms wrapped securely around her, and his chin tucked into the curve of her shoulder.

This wasn't a new occurrence. Fernando always wanted Y/N close to him.

She shifted a bit in his arms before she opened her phone.

As soon as her phone unlocked, the screen showed one of the pictures from Fernando's photoshoot. Y/N quickly shut off her phone, but she knew by the snickering coming from her boyfriend that he had seen what was on her phone.

"You really liked the photoshoot, huh?" Fernando wondered, a bit smugly as he tilted her chin so that she was looking at him. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and tried to worm her way out of his arms. He didn't let her. "Aw, come on, I'm teasing you, baby."

"It's not funny," Y/N protested weakly. "It's embarrassing."

"No, it's not," he argued. "I'm flattered. I wasn't trying to impress anyone but you, and it worked." Y/N shrugged in his arms. In one motion, Fernando had moved them so that he was above her while she layed on her back on the bed. "Who needs those photos anyway when you've got the real version right here?"

If looks could kill, Fernando Mendoza would surely be dead. His assailant? His own girlfriend.

He was still laying in her bed, his back propped up against the headboard and the comforter pooled around his waist. He was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, his abs exposed to the chill of the apartment air, and the occasional wandering eyes of his girlfriend.

Y/N was standing in front of her bedroom mirror, one of Fernando's t-shirts covering her body and a pair of fuzzy socks clad on her feet. She wasn't looking directly at him, her gaze on her own reflection in the mirror, but even then, Fernando could tell she was still upset with him.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he apologized, though the slight smirk on his face told her otherwise. She turned around with a furious look on her face, and if she wasn't leaving for the airport in the following 2 hours, Fernando would've tugged her back into bed with him, and not just to sleep. Instead, he stayed put and went against his urges that made him feel like a horny teenager again. "C'mon, it's not that bad."

She narrowed her eyes at him. ""Not that bad'?" Y/N repeated. "Fernando, I look like I just got mauled by a bear." He laughed. "It's not funny!"

He stood up and approached her slowly, careful to avoid getting yelled at by his girlfriend again. "I'm sorry," he repeated. He grabbed at her hip with his hand and rubbed his thumb against the supple skin. "Really, I-" He laughed despite the situation. "- I honestly didn't think it would look this bad."

"Oh, right, you didn't know that giving me hickies would end up with me having hickies on my neck?" asked Y/N. She rubbed at the skin on her collarbone, which was irritated and red.

"I got caught up in the heat of the moment," Fernando explained. "How can you blame me when I was with my beautiful girlfriend for the last time before she leaves for break?" He pouted dramatically, and Y/N sighed. "I'm sorry, baby." He pressed his lips over the marks on her skin in an attempt to apologize.

Y/N huffed. "I'll just have to be super careful," she muttered. "The last thing I need is for anyone to see this."

"You're still the most beautiful girl in the world," Fernando whispered, his kisses now moving up the column of her neck. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you here these next few weeks. I'm going to miss you, sweetheart."

"I'm going to miss you too, Nando, but I'm coming to New York for the ceremony, remember?" She told him as she carded her hands through the curls on his head. "I thought you'd be happy to be on your own for a little while."

"How can I be happy when my girlfriend is abandoning me?" Fernando moved away from Y/N and flopped onto the bed with an over-exaggerated sigh.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Alright, drama queen," she muttered, walking over and patting him on the stomach. "Are you sure you don't mind driving me to the airport? I don't want to put you out of your way..."

"Of course I don't mind," Fernando immediately responded. "You all packed?"

With a nod, Y/N responded, "Mhm. Don't forget to come back here and get the gifts I got for your parents and Max."

Fernando grinned. "You didn't have to get them anything," he protested, though there was no real conviction in his voice. He loved how much Y/N loved his family.

"It's no big deal." She shrugged. She reached over and grabbed the outfit that she had laid out on her dresser the night before. "I feel bad I'm not going to get to see them, though."

"They ask about you all the time," Fernando added. "I'm starting to think they like you more than they like me."

Y/N bit her lip. "I'm sure that's not true," she stated. She began walking towards the bathroom. "I'll be out of the shower in a few, and then I'm ready to go when you are."

Fernando sat up at the mention of Y/N taking a shower. "Can I join you?" He asked hopefully.

"Well, since you asked nicely-" Y/N didn't get to finish her sentence as a sudden squeal left her mouth when she was thrown over her boyfriend's shoulder.

When her mom said that one of her brothers was coming to pick her up, Y/N assumed that it would only be one of them. Her best guess is that it would be Quinn, seeing as he was the oldest and arguably the best at airport pickups.

With her rolling suitcase in one hand and her carry on in the other, Y/N strolled through the airport, her Adidas sneakers squeaking against the floor. Her headphones were resting around her neck, and every few minutes, she checked her phone, waiting for one of her brothers to text her.

Once she got her main suitcase from the baggage carousel, Y/N sighed. She now had two suitcases to deal with, and still no confirmation of if she even had a ride home.

"Jeez, did you pack for a few weeks or for the rest of your life?" A voice from behind her teased. Y/N practically jumped out of her own skin, but she knew that voice from anywhere.

Y/N turned to face the man that had spoken to her with a giddy smile. "Hey, old man, I'm surprised you're able to walk without a cane," she joked back.

Quinn looked ridiculous. His disguise, which consisted of a plain, black baseball cap and dark sunglasses, made him look like he was attending a baseball game in the dead of winter. Still, his cheeks were red from how hard he was smiling as he wrapped his arms around his youngest sibling's neck and pulled her into his chest.

"That's a weird way of saying 'thank you' for picking you up," Quinn responded, only wrapping his arms tighter around Y/N when she tried to pull away. "I missed you, munchkin. You gotta stop leaving me alone with those idiots."

"Hey!" Another voice yelled. Y/N craned her neck and finally realized that her oldest brother hadn't come alone. "If anyone's the idiot, it should be the one who tried to drive the emergency brake still on."

"Or the one who put plastic in the oven," A third voice added.

Y/N untangled herself from Quinn's arms and childishly stuck her tongue out at her two, other older brothers. "At least I'm going to graduate college," she exclaimed. "When Mom texted, I thought she said only one of you was coming to pick me up. I didn't think she meant the whole gang."

"We missed you!" Jack cried, placing an overly-dramatic kiss on his sister's cheek, causing Y/N to grimace and wipe the excess saliva off of her cheek. "My baby finally came home."

"I saw you, like, two months ago, dork," Y/N muttered.

"Don't even leave me alone with him again," Luke whispered in a low voice as he hugged his sister gently. "He never stops talking." Y/N giggled.

Nothing would ever compare to being with all three of her brothers, and it was unfortunate that they only got to be together around the holidays and for the summer. Since the moments Y/N had with her brothers were few and fleeting, she cherished them greatly.

"I missed you guys," Y/N said.

"We missed you, too, munchkin," Quinn replied, ruffling his sister's hair and laughing when she swatted his hand away. "C'mon, Mom has dinner ready at home."

"Surprised you guys didn't eat the whole house yet," teased Y/N. Her bags were soon taken out of the hands, and she was left with just her phone in her grasp, and the carry on that she had now slung over her shoulder. She had to stifle a laugh at the sight of Jack rolling her rose-gold suitcase through the airport.

Luke hummed. "Well, Jack already ate half of the package of sugar cookies that Mom was gonna surprise you with," he told his younger sister. Y/N glared at Jack while he smiled sweetly at her.

"Seriously?" Y/N whined. "I can't have anything."

"I was hungry." Jack defended himself. The siblings had now exited the airport and were walking into the chill of the afternoon air. "Where's your jacket?"

Y/N shrugged. "I packed it in my suitcase so I didn't have to carry it on the plane with me," she stated. "Where'd you guys park?"

"The parking garage," Quinn told her. "By the way, I need to borrow $5 for the parking pass."

She stared up at him with a blank look on her face. "Right. You're on a multi-million dollar contract, but you need to borrow money from the broke college kid."

"Oh, like Mom and Dad don't send you money every week." Jack snorted.

"It's food money!" Y/N argued. "It's not like I'm living some extravagant lifestyle in Indiana, of all places."

The four finally made it to the family car, and Y/N sat in the backseat with Luke while Quinn was in the driver's seat and Jack was next to him in the passenger's seat.

In the beginning, the ride was quiet. Except for the music that softly played in the car, there was a comfortable silence that settled in the car. Quinn was focused on the road, and Y/N was focused on her phone.

She was too enraptured in her phone to notice the collar of her sweater had fallen down her shoulder just slightly, which exposed her collarbone.

She laughed at something on her phone, causing Luke's gaze to shift over to her for a split second. His eyes were first on her face, but the redness of the skin near her neck caught his eye.

Luke's expression morphed into one of horror. There, on his baby sister's collarbone, was a constellation of red hickies. They stood out on her skin like red flowers in the wintertime.

He did the only logical thing he could as an older brother.

He screamed.

Well, more like shrieked. Very girlishly.

The car swerved as Quinn, clearly startled, regained his place on the road. Jack turned around to stare at his brother in shock. Y/N made a weird face, but when she saw Luke's glaze on her skin, she panicked and quickly moved her sweater so that it covered the hickies, but it was too late.

Luke saw.

She was screwed.

"Dude!" Quinn yelled from the front seat. "What is your problem?"

Luke's finger was pointed at Y/N. Her eyes were wide, and she desperately shook her head, as if trying to telepathically communicate to him. His mouth was agape. He couldn't't speak.

"Are you dying?" questioned Jack, now turned in his seat so he could see his other two siblings. His gaze darted between the two with narrowed eyes.

Y/N reached out and pushed Luke's hand away. "Luke, don't-"

"Y/N has hickies!"

Ellen and Jim Hughes were used to dealing with rowdy children. They had made it through raising three sons, who were also hockey players and seemingly had no regard for their own physical wellbeing while on the rink, as well as a daughter who took after her older brothers in a lot of aspects.

They thought they had seen or experienced it all. They made it through the awkward teen years, the birds and the bees talk, the rebellious stages, and the back-talk that all parents dealt with when they had teenagers.

When their three sons and their daughter came in the door, bickering like young kids again, the parents knew they were in for a long, long night.

Y/N was the first to enter the house, an irritated look on her face and flushed skin. However, when her eyes landed on her parents sitting at the table, her expression softened.

"Hi, Mom, Dad," Y/N murmured. She walked over to her parents and sat down at the table. She sighed heavily before letting her head fall onto the table.

Jim frowned. "Sweetpea, what's wrong?" His eyebrows creased in confusion as Ellen moved to rub Y/N's back.

"They know," she muttered.

The parents shared a look. "What do you mean, Y/N?" asked Ellen in confusion.

Y/N lifted her head off the table. "They know I have a boyfriend."

"How-"

"Y/N Hughes, if you don't tell me the name of the asshole that mauled you, I swear to God..." Jack threatened as he stomped into the dining room. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stared at his sister, who threw her hands up in the air.

It was only seconds later that Luke and Quinn entered the house in the same manner Jack had just seconds before. All three brothers stared down at their sister like she was harboring the world's biggest secret.

"Mom, Dad," Quinn addressed his parents. "Y/N has a boyfriend." Jim and Ellen shared a look, a look that definitely wasn't one of surprise. "Wait- Did you guys already know?" Their silence was enough of an answer for Quinn. "You told Mom and Dad but not us? Why?"

"Because Mom and Dad aren't psychopaths like you guys are!" Y/N argued.

"We're not psychopaths," Luke stated firmly. "Is it so wrong that we want to beat up the guy that did that to you?"

Y/N's head fell into her hands. "You guys are exhausting," she complained. "It's not a big deal!"

"You have a boyfriend, Y/N!" Quinn pointed out. "And he- He did that to you."

"Mom..." Y/N whined, a pout on her lips. "Can you tell them to just leave me alone?"

"Oh, we'll leave you alone," Jack cut in. "Once you tell us this guy's name and where we can find him so that we can deal with him properly."

Ellen pinched the bridge of her nose. "Boys, leave your sister alone. She's not obligated to tell you everything," she told them pointedly. "She'll tell you when she's ready."

Luke made a pained noise. "She's covered in hickies, Mom!"

Y/N's cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment. She stood up and clenched her fists. She was beyond embarrassed, and wished more than anything that the floor would swallow her whole. "Why can't you guys just stay out of my love life for once, huh? God, it's none of your business!"

Without sparing her parents or her brothers another glance, Y/N raced upstairs and slammed her bedroom door shut.

Y/N wasn't sure when she had stopped crying. She could still feel the tear tracks running down her pink cheeks, and her bottom lip wobbled every time she recalled how she shouted and her brothers and the looks on their faces when she did.

She knew they weren't trying to be cruel or trying to embarrass her. It was completely unintentional. They were just trying to shield her from any potential harm, like they had done their entire life. But, in the process of doing so, they had hurt her feelings.

When Y/N had gotten into her room, she had flopped onto her bed and curled into a ball, her own arms wrapped around her abdomen in an attempt to comfort herself.

Fernando had told her to call him if she ever needed anyone to talk to, but Y/N felt silly calling him while crying. She knew he was busy with football, and the last thing he probably needed was his hysterical girlfriend crying on the phone to him.

A soft knock came from her bedroom door. Y/N's back was turned to the door, so even though she heard it creak open, she had no clue who it was that had knocked. She sniffled and rubbed her nose with her sleeve.

She felt her bed dip, and a hand was placed on her shoulder. "Munchkin..." It was Quinn. She still didn't turn around.

"Y/N, we're really sorry," Jack's voice chimed in.

"We didn't mean to hurt your feelings," added Luke.

Her voice broke as she spoke, "It's fine." She always forgave them too easily, something her mom always told her she didn't have to do.

"No, it's not okay," Jack protested. "We weren't fair, and we shouldn't have come at you like that."

Y/N sat up and finally faced her brothers. Quinn was sitting on her bed next to her, while Jack and Luke were sat on her window seat.

Their hearts simultaneously broke when the brothers finally got a look at their younger sister's face. Her eyes were puffy, and her cheeks were red from how much she had been crying.

She was crying because of them.

"I know I should've told you guys sooner," Y/N admitted quietly. "I just- I didn't want to be a bother. I know how busy you guys are between Olympics stuff and with the season starting, I just- I didn't want to distract you."

"Y/N, you aren't a distraction," Luke insisted. "You're the only constant in our ever-changing life. In a world full of chaos, you're the only thing that keeps us sane. We're so, so sorry, Y/N, we were being unfair."

"We didn't mean to invade your privacy, munchkin," Quinn continued. "We just always want to make sure you're okay, but it's so hard when you're so far away from us."

"Even though you're grown up, you're still our baby sister, Y/N," Jack said. "Nothing is ever going to change that."

Y/N smiled and leaned into Quinn. "I love you, guys," she told them. "Even when you tell Mom and Dad that I have hickies." The four shared a laugh. A beat passed. "His name is Fernando. We met when I came to watch the Canucks play the Sharks last November, and we've been dating since then."

Jack laughed. "Isn't Fernando the name of your school's QB? The dude that's nominated for the Heisman? What a coincidence." Y/N blinked. She didn't laugh. "It's a just a coincidence, right?"

"Well..." Y/N trailed off. She awkwardly smiled as her brothers groaned. "Aw, come on, at least I'm not dating a hockey player!"

"I feel like I just aged 20 years," Quinn muttered, rubbing his face with his hands. "Now I know how Dad feels everytime one of us gets in a fight during a game."

Luke said, "So, that's why you're into football all the sudden?"

Y/N shrugged. "Yeah." He hummed in response.

"We're happy for you, munchkin," Quinn stated as he pulled Y/N into a hug and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "But, just because he's a famous quarterback doesn't change the fact that we're going to kick his ass-"

"Quinn!"

It was late at night when Fernando turned the spare key in order to unlock the door to his girlfriend's apartment. He knew, from many previous times of when he opened the door, that if he turned the handle the right way, it would make less noise and therefore would lower the risk of his girlfriend waking up.

When he softly closed the door behind him and locked it, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting in the apartment. There were candles lit on the kitchen countertop, and the TV, which had switched from the ESPN post-game show to the LSU game that he wouldn't even watch as a football player himself.

This was the routine he was used to, and the one he looked forward to almost as much as he looked forward to playing actual football. He loved leaving the day behind and getting to spend whatever time he had left in the day with the girl he loved.

The only thing that would make his post-game routine even better? If his girlfriend was actually awake when he got to her apartment.

She always tried to stay awake, but she never could. Each game, whether it was home or away, ended with him returning to his girlfriend's apartment and finding her fast asleep on her couch after attempting to wait for him to get back.

His tall fame moved towards the couch, and his gaze softened at the site before him.

Y/N was fast asleep on the couch, her feet propped up on a pillow that rested on her coffee table. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her frame was swallowed by an oversized crewneck that Fernando recognized as the same one that he had lost a few weeks earlier. Her glasses had slipped off her nose ever-so-slightly, and pieces of her ponytail framed her face in an effortlessly beautiful way.

He lowered himself onto the couch carefully in a way that wouldn't startle her. Fernando then grabbed her hand in her own and began placing soft kisses to the palm of her hand in an attempt to wake her up.

It only took a few seconds before Y/N's eyes began to slowly open, blinking in an attempt to adjust to the lack of light in the room. A smile graced her face when she realized she was no longer alone.

"What time is it?" Her tired voice asked.

Fernando shifted closer and gently took the glasses off of her face. "It's just past 10," he informed her. "I missed you."

Even in the dark of her living room, Fernando could tell that she blushed at his words. "I missed you, Nando. You played so great."

"You stayed up for the whole game?" Fernando joked, causing his girlfriend to scrunch her nose and tuck her head into the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. "I'm kidding."

Y/N moved so that she could see him once again. "That pass you made on fourth down was amazing," she commented. "My dad was texting me throughout the whole game. I think he's a bigger fan of watching you than I am."

"Your brothers don't think it's weird that your parents have a sudden interest in Indiana football?"

"Thinking isn't something that my brothers do that often, or well, for that matter," Y/N murmured in response. She shifted closer to him, and before she could blink, Fernando had tugged her onto his lap and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Are you hungry? I have leftover pasta from dinner that I can heat up for you."

"I'm not hungry." Fernando began placing butterfly kisses to the column of Y/N's neck. "Not for food, anyway."

"Nando," whined Y/N. "You're not funny. And you need to rest, you just had a game and I saw that tackle on you during the third quarter."

He smiled against her neck. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just missed my girl." She bashfully bit her lip and turned so that she was facing him. "Is this mine?" Fernando tugged on one of her sleeves.

"Maybe," she admitted quietly. "Do you want me to take it off?"

Wordlessly, he reached down and tugged at the hem of the garment. Before he could move any further, Y/N's phone that was on the coffee table began to buzz. She groaned in annoyance.

She knew who it was, and she cursed the luck she had.

"Just ignore it," Fernando whispered, his gaze focused on her lips. And as much as she tried to, the incessant buzz of her phone distracted her.

"Let me just see what they want," Y/N said, causing her boyfriend to theatrically groan and lay his head on the back of the couch. Even though Fernando had never met Y/N's brothers, they were great at interrupting his alone time with his girlfriend (their sister).

"Anything important?"

"If you consider discussing Thanksgiving, which is, like, a month away, is important, then yes," Y/N replied, placing her phone back onto the coffee table. "It can wait until the morning."

"Great." Fernando tugged on Y/N's, which was actually his, sweater. "This. Off. Now."

It was just a week later, gameday, again, only this time Y/N was at Fernando's game. She found herself sitting with the Mendoza family, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a grey hoodie that had Indiana's logo on it.

Y/N loved the Mendoza family. Being the youngest of a rather large family, she loved being apart of the dynamic that her boyfriend had welcomed her into when he had introduced her to his parents and his two younger brothers.

Indiana was playing Penn State, a team that was normally ranked, only this year, they had fired their head coach and had lost their starting quarterback to an injury. Still, the Nittany Lions had put up a good fight against the visiting Hoosiers.

"Can I have a sip of your soda, Y/N?" Max, Fernando's younger brother, asked.

She grabbed the foam cup from the cup holder and nodded. "Here," she replied, giving him the cup. Her attention then turned back to the field, where Penn State had just attempted rushing for a first down, but failed. "This guy can't run to save his life," Y/N muttered.

"Their offensive line can't block, either," Max added.

Ever since Y/N had began dating Fernando, it had been Y/N's mission in life to understand the game of football. Growing up, the only sport she ever watched was hockey, hockey, and more hockey. So, up until she had met Fernando, her football knowledge was nonexistent.

Now? She knew what a run-pass option was, and the difference between offsides and a neutral-zone infraction.

"Are you coming to dinner with us after the game?" asked Max as he took a bite from the hotdog that was in his hands.

Y/N shrugged. She hadn't been explicitly invited, but she always ended up joining the Mendoza family in their post-game dinners. "If it's okay with your parents."

"I think my parents like having dinner with you more than they like having dinner with my actual brothers," Max giggled, and so did Y/N. "Plus, it's funny when Alberto tries to eat your food!"

"It's funny because it's not happening to you," complained Y/N, though there was no real malice in her voice.

With the amount of noise in the Beaver Stadium, Y/N was lucky that she even heard her phone ring. She turned it with her hand and her face went pale.

Quinn For Da Win is calling...

She gulped and considered her options. Either pick up the phone and have to lie through her teeth about where she is and what she's doing, or ignore his call, which would then cause not only Quinn to continue trying to call her, but her other two brothers would soon be trying to call her, too.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N answered the call and put the phone to her ear. "Hi, Quinn," she said.

"Hey, munchkin," Quinn greeted her from his side of the call. "It's good to hear your voice, I feel like we haven't talked in forever."

A frown graced her lips. It was true that since she had transferred to Bloomington, she had been too focused on her schoolwork and her budding relationship that she had neglected her relationship with her brothers.

"I'm sorry," Y/N mumbled. "It's my fault, I should call more. I've just-" Before she could even begin to explain what was keeping her busy from calling her older brothers, Beaver Stadium suddenly erupted into cheers, as Penn State had moved the ball down the field and was now first and goal at Indiana's 7 yard-line. "Uh..."

"Where are you right now? I thought you were just in your apartment."

"Oh, um, I'm at the Indiana game."

There was silence for a moment. "... You're at a football game?"

"Yeah, I was... Invited by some friends," she responded, a bit timidly. She felt awful for lying, but there was no other acceptable reason why she would be at a football game that wouldn't raise too many questions. "Look, um, can I call you back later? Sorry, I'm a bit distracted and-"

"It's fine," Quinn told her kindly. "Just call me when you've got the time. I love you, munchkin."

"I love you, too. I'll call you later," promised Y/N. She then quickly hung up her phone and placed it back in her jean pocket. She blew a breath out of her mouth. "They threw it on 4th and goal?"

Max nodded reluctantly. "Can't believe we're getting beat by a backup quarterback."

Y/N was utterly exhausted. Her hunched over frame sat at the kitchen table in her dining area, and the surface of the table was covered in scattered papers and assorted notebooks. To anyone else, she might've looked insane. To any other college student that was studying for their finals as well, Y/N probably looked like the most sane person to ever grace the earth.

"Sweetheart," a soft voice drawled. Y/N, so lost in her own thoughts, failed to notice that Fernando had gotten back from practice. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern and his eyes held a loving look in them that was reserved for his girlfriend only. When Y/N looked up from her work, Fernando huffed. "Honey, you look exhausted. How long have you been studying?"

She shrugged. "Dunno," she replied quietly. "Not long enough." Y/N ran a hand through her hair. "I still have so much to do, I still have to study for-"

"Y/N." He said her name firmly. "You need to take a break, okay? This will all be here tomorrow. You don't need to overwork yourself like this."

"Yes, I do," she stubbornly argued. "If I don't study, I'll fall behind, and I won't be good enough. I have to be the best, I need to be the best." Frustrated tears began to run down her face.

"Hey, hey, hey," Fernando whispered. He hated seeing her cry. He knelt down and grabbed both of her hands and encased them in his own. "Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," Y/N immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to deal with this."

"I'm not 'dealing' with anything," protested Fernando. "I'm helping my girlfriend because I want to make sure she's okay."

"I just..." She trailed off. Y/N knew she probably looked like a mad woman, but she was too tired and too stressed to care. "I have to do well. I have to be something, you know? My brothers are something, and I can't just be nothing. I don't want to be nothing."

Fernando frown deepened, if it was possible. He knew that Y/N was under pressure being the youngest sister of three successful, young athletes, but it was rare that she spoke about it. She always said that it was her own burden to bear, and it wasn't fair for her to let it fall one anyone else but her.

He stood up from his spot where he was crouching on the floor and pulled Y/N out of her chair slowly. "You are not, and will never be, nothing. You are so talented, so intelligent, so thoughtful, and I hate that you don't see yourself that way." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I love you so much, baby."

"I love you, Nando," Y/N sleepily muttered. And she did. Even in her stressed out haze, she knew she loved him, and nothing would ever change that.

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indianafootball: qb1 on the field and in my heart ☺️❤️

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username: LMAO admin at it again

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yourmom: My hardworking girl!! 😍 yourusername: missing you lots 😕🩷

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indianafootball: current function mood

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Y/N sighed boredly as she scrolled on her phone. Her work phone laid on the table, while her personal phone was in the palm of her hand. She used her pointer finger to aimlessly swipe through Tik Tok videos.

Her friend was off talking to a guy that had bought her a drink, which had left Y/N all alone at their shared table. It was a Wednesday night, and honestly, she really wanted to go home. Gameday was approaching ast, which meant she'd have a hectic day between posting and getting exclusive content from the players, not to mention all the hassle of traveling with the team.

Kilroy's was packed, like it always was most nights. People moved in and out of the scarce empty spaces, and voices were so loud that the music couldn't be heard. Most people were wearing red, seeing as the Hoosiers had a big game against Alabama in less than 24 hours.

She really wanted to go home, but she didn't want to leave her friend, who was a bit drunk, alone with some guy she barely knew. So, she stayed, the only thing keeping her company being her phone and her watered-down Diet Pepsi.

Someone near her suddenly cleared their throat, trying to get her attention. Y/N looked up and her heart stopped.

There stood Fernando Mendoza. Indiana's starting QB, college football's golden boy, and, oh, yeah, the guy she had been secretly flirting with online for the past few months.

"Hi," he greeted her with a smile that made her face feel warm. "Sorry, is this seat taken?" He gestured to the open seat.

She immediately shook her head. "No, sorry," Y/N apologized. "I mean, yeah, it's open, I meant-" She blew a breath out of her mouth. "No one's sitting there. If you and your friends want this table, I can move-"

"I'm alone," Fernando told her. "It's just me, my friends are..." He trailed off, waving to the crowds of people. "Otherwise occupied."

Y/N's eyes found her friend, who was now passionately making out with the guy she had been talking to all night. "I get what you mean," she murmured.

"Any good games on?" asked Fernando, his neck craned so he could glance at the TV that was mounted on the wall.

She shrugged. "If you consider Coastal Carolina versus Tulane a good game, then you're in for a real treat," Y/N explained. Fernando laughed. It wasn't a fake laugh, or one of those polite laughs that could be detected from a mile away; It was a genuine laugh that made her heart flutter. "I'm Y/N."

"Fernando," he stated, as if he wasn't the most recognizable guy on all of campus. "Can I, um- Can I get you another drink?"

Her answer was immediate, much to her own embarrassment. "Yeah."

Y/N couldn't recall a time in her life when she was so stressed out. Her brain was occupied with one thing and one thing only; Her schoolwork. A natural disaster could occur, and her only goal would be to make sure her textbooks stayed intact.

As she laid on the ground, the chill of the the dorm floor kissed her aching skin softly. An ever-persistent headache continued to nag her, and the light from her laptop screen only made her skull pound in a way that she knew wasn't healthy.

Each second that wasn't spent typing or looking over notes was a second wasted. She didn't have time to indulge in her own thoughts, or think about anything except the work that she needed to get done.

It was a few days into her second semester in college. The grey sky kept the sun out of sight, and Y/N couldn't recall the last time she was able to step outside without more than 2 layers of clothing. The flesh on her hands was dry and itchy, and she was constantly uncomfortable being in her own skin.

Maybe she was being pessimistic, but nothing seemed to be going right in her life.

Her grades weren't good enough, she was isolating herself from her friends, and she hadn't talked to her parents in ages. Everything in her life seemed to be going wrong, and she didn't know what to do.

Panic overtook peace, and Y/N could only throw herself into her schoolwork. In a world full of things she couldn't control, at least she could always try to improve her own grades. She could be anxious, overstimulated, and isolated, but she could also have good grades!

A few minutes before midnight, Y/N was now laying on her stomach, piles of papers surrounding her body, similar to how a picture is surrounded by its frame.

"Fuck me," she murmured gently, pressing the tips of her fingers into her temple. "I hate college, dude."

She stood up, and stumbled a bit due to the headrush that suddenly clouded her vision. The two Red Bulls she had drank a few hours prior seemed to have worn off, and Y/N was crudely aware of how tired she was. Her shoulders seemed to be stuck in a permanent slump, and her eyelids felt like two bricks on her face.

Tiredness, however, was the least of her worries. She had been studying for what felt like years, and it still didn't feel like enough. Nothing that she could do would ever be enough.

Like The Walking Dead, Y/N trudged to the bathroom, which was on the far end of her dorm. She was lucky that she had gotten a single, or else she would have to deal with not only her own presence, but also some stranger's as well.

In the haze of her own tired and frustrated mind, Y/N had forgotten that she had closed the bathroom door. She usually always kept it open, seeing as it was less to think about; Rather than having to open the door, she could just walk in. It was less work for her, a lazy student that was fueled by energy drinks and chips, to do.

Y/N was too focused on all the things she had to do once she was finished using the bathroom that she didn't realize the door was closed, and she was about to walk head-first into the wooden slab at full force.

A sickening smack echoed through the otherwise quiet room as Y/N's head came into contact with the door. She regained her footing just in time to stay on her feet as she backed away from the closed door.

Reaching up, she felt something dribble down her forehead. With a trembling hand, Y/N reached up and touched the substance delicately. A frown pulled at her lips when her eyes caught sight of the blood that now resided on her fingertips.

"Shit."

She then collapsed on the floor.

Was she in Heaven? Was she in Hell? Was she in Purgatory? Was she in the secret fourth option that was never described in her own religion, but still existed anyway? Y/N didn't know.

Wherever she was, it was quiet, save for the occasional whisper of the wind and the sound of a nearby bird chirping. At least her alarm wasn't going off.

Someone was touching her, a hand at her waist serving as a warning to Y/N that she was no longer alone. There was someone near her, and if she wasn't careful, she could end up in danger.

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes.

Yep, this definitely wasn't her musty college dorm that smelled way too much like stale air if she didn't open the windows for a few minutes every hour. Her eyes finally adjusted to the morning light that was practically blinding her.

The first thing she noticed was that she was laying on the ground like some hobo. Her body was covered in an itchy, woolen dress that made her long for her ratty, old college hoodie that softened with every laundry cycle.

She then noticed that there wasn't just one person next to her, but another small body that was slightly curled into her own. Y/N frowned.

Why the fuck was there a bald child that was practically melted into her own body? Was he bald by choice, or was it a medical condition?

Y/N slowly turned her head so that she was able to see who was behind her, and her confusion only grew at the site of a man with light brown hair that was practically spooning her.

"I knew that second Red Bull was a mistake," she muttered to herself, annoyance seeping into her tone even though she wasn't speaking to anyone else.

The child next to her began to stir. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands and sleepily blinked. "Good morrow, My Lady," he said quietly.

She curled her lips. "Sure," she replied. "Remind me again who the hell you are? And, are you bald because of a disease, or is it simply a poor attempt at a fashion statement?"

He blinked owlishly at her. "I am Egg, My Lady. Do you not recall the events of last night? It would make sense, considering Ser Duncan said you drank many pints of ale at the Baratheon tent last night."

"Hey!" Y/N protested, no longer caring that the stranger behind her was sleeping. "I don't drink. Well, at least not since that Halloween party Sigma Chi hosted. I didn't even know they still made Four Lokos."

A hand pinched at the skin at her hip, and Y/N let out a squeak at the sensation. "Will you two quiet down? It is too early for your constant chatter," the man behind Y/N grumbled, clearly annoyed at the fact that his beauty sleep was interrupted.

"Ser..." The boy, who was apparently named after the main ingredient in an omelette, continued to stare at Y/N weirdly. "Something is wrong with her."

"What are you going on about, boy?"

"She's speaking in tongues, Ser."

Y/N decided she had enough of this weird and way too vivid fever-dream. She wrenched the hand that was holding onto her off her waist and stood up.

Now that she had a good view of the man that had been sleeping behind her, Y/N knew that she was metaphorically fucked if this ended in a physical confrontation. This guy was taller than anyone she had ever met, and he was far more muscular than anyone that she was used to seeing on campus.

She needed something to protect herself with, or else she'd probably be ending up in a murder mystery documentary. Y/N couldn't die knowing she looked like she hadn't showered in years.

Her panicked gaze darted around the small area that she was contained in, and it landed on a sword that was propped up against a tree trunk. Without sparing the two another glance, Y/N lunged for the sword. Once it was in her trembling hands, she pointed the sharp end at the man's throat.

The child gasped.

The man, still half-asleep, grabbed the sword boredly and threw it onto the ground. "It's too early to deal with your nonsense, Y/N," he told her. His eyes were now on her, and she scowled. "C'mon, back to bed we go."

"How the hell do you know my name, freak? And, why are your eyes so blue? Are you wearing colored contacts? That's pretty performative, you know."

She watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I knew allowing you to have that fourth pint was a mistake," he muttered out.

"Maybe she was poisoned," Egg suggested. "It'd explain why she's speaking like a crazed woman."

"Shut up, Omelette," Y/N sassed. "You're bald. Enough said. Now, does anyone want to explain why I was sleeping on the ground, and why I'm now surrounded by people who sound like they should be in Peaky Blinders?"

Duncan straightened up. He thought that Y/N was just attempting to fool him once again with strange phrases he had no clue of their meaning, but something seemed genuinely wrong this time.

She was too confused, and too out of it. It wasn't the ale from last night, and she hadn't been hit on the head recently.

Something was certainly wrong with her.

He slowly stood up and approached her hesitantly, like he would with a wounded animal. Y/N stood rooted in the ground as she stared up at the giant man that was standing before her.

"Y/N..." He spoke softly. "Do you know where you are?"

She rolled her eyes. "Uh, duh, I'm outside. What kinda question is that?"

"She's lost her mind, Ser," Egg argued.

"Why is the bald child so opinionated?" Y/N suddenly began to swat at the air around her, trying to make the bugs that were circling her go away. "Why the fuck are there so many goddamn bugs?" Her heart began to thump in her chest rapidly. She wasn't waking up. This wasn't a Red Bull-induced nightmare; This was reality. "Where am I? Where the fuck am I?"

The witty exterior had worn off. She was scared. Y/N fell to her knees and cradled her head in her hands.

Footsteps drew near, and soon, Y/N felt a hand cradle her neck, while another cupped her face softly. "Y/N," the man spoke, his voice no longer frustrated and instead surprisingly calm. "You're alright, I'm here. I told you nothing would ever harm you, and nothing ever well. I will always protect you, even if it's my last act before I perish." His bright, blue eyes bore into her own in such an intense way that she wanted to look away, but she couldn't.

Tears cascaded slowly down her cheeks. Whether they were tears of exhaustion or confusion, Y/N didn't know. But she was crying, and she couldn't stop.

The man clearly wasn't judging her for crying, and he wasn't asking her why she was, either. He just held her as she sobbed.

A realization hit her like a bucket of ice water on her skin:

Y/N wasn't in her world any longer. She was a stranger in a strange land, a foreigner in a place she didn't even know the name of. She was lost.

She needed to go home.

Every girl wishes that her boyfriend was as supportive as Fernando was. If there was an award for the best boyfriend, he would be the reigning champion and the odds-on favorite to win it next year, too.

Fernando met his girlfriend while she was touring in California while he was still at UC Berkeley. Though he acted like he had no idea who she was when they first met, if Y/N had listened to one of Fernando's playlists, she would've heard all of her own songs.

He knew every single one of her songs by heart. Whenever he found himself sitting in silence, Fernando would begin humming lowly under his breath. Her songs were always stuck in his head, and she was always on his mind.

Though Fernando thought of himself as an athlete, his girlfriend was 100 times more athletic than he was. She could do multiple concerts for days on end, and never seemed to get tired. He was a college athlete, yet his popstar girlfriend was in way better shape than he could ever be. He sometimes got tired from walking up a flight of stairs; Y/N could perform a 3 hour show 4 nights in a row and still could beat his mile time.

Fernando loved his girlfriend loudly. Sure, he occasionally heard a joke from a teammate about how whipped he was, or read a comment online about how pathetically down bad he was, but it didn't bother him. He loved his girlfriend, and no one could make him feel bad about it.

During pregame warm-ups, the Hoosiers would play a few songs that Y/N sang. Videos online would surface of Fernando singing to himself as he practiced throwing. People couldn't get enough.

Y/N loved doing shows in Miami. She would always invite Fernando and the entirety of the Mendoza family. She always made sure they had the best seats and made sure to take a moment to thank them for always being there to support her.

One of her outfit changes included one of Fernando's red Hoosiers jerseys. The crowd always erupted in cheers as Y/N emerged into view proudly wearing her boyfriend's last name on her back. Her profile picture across all her social media platforms was a candid picture of herself after a show wearing one of Fernando's jerseys (he took the picture).

If Y/N ever received hate, Fernando would be at her defense immediately. He wouldn't hesitate to call out anyone who slandered her name, and would always stick up for her no matter what. For anyone to criticize her for simply doing her job and what she loves was something that he would not stand for.

Fernando is secure in his relationship with his girlfriend, even though the entire internet seems to be in love with her. Sometimes he see comments on her posts, such as: "What does he have that I don't?" and "Mendoza can't handle all that". He doesn't mind; His girlfriend is hot, and he knows it.

The only thing that does bother him is when another famous athlete or a celebrity gets a bit too comfortable speaking about their feelings towards his girlfriend. Waking up and reading a tweet about how Quinn Hughes thinks his girlfriend is talented and pretty was not something that Fernando expected.

He always commented on her posts. He'd leave simply with a '😍', or would tell her about how amazing she performed.

If his own schedule conflicted with one of her concert dates, Fernando would watch the live streamed footage. He never missed one of her shows. He followed her fan accounts and would enjoy scrolling through the accounts whenever he had the time.

One time, one of those interviewers came up to him while he was on campus and asked what song he was listening to. Like everyone would have expected, Fernando was listening to one of Y/N's songs. He spent the rest of the interview promoting her new song and telling everyone what his favorite album of hers was.

Fernando would probably never admit it (because it would make him sound conceited), but his favorite songs that Y/N had were the ones she wrote for him. She made him feel so loved, and when he couldn't be near her, listening to the songs that she wrote for him made him feel less alone.

They did various interviews together, whether they were doing trivia questions about each other, or they were playing internet games. Y/N and Fernando were loved by a lot of fans that loved seeing their relationship blossom.

One time, a newspaper article had referred to Y/N as 'Fernando Mendoza's Girlfriend.' In response, on his next Instagram post, he referred to himself as Y/N Y/L/N's boyfriend.

His pregame outfit, a majority of the time, was of one of Y/N's concert t-shirts. And yes, he made her sign it.

Fernando would absolutely crush one of those interviews where he hears a clip of one of Y/N's songs and has to name it from the part of the song that he heard. It wouldn't even be funny how easy the game would be for him. Even Y/N took a longer time to recognize her own songs than he did.