#yeah only recently found out hockey sticks are $$$$ like how are you going to break two of them!?

[1d1195]

I love a gooey part 💕

Pucking Rookie IV

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: slow burning!!!

Warnings: ANGST violence. CW: Signs of abuse.

Summary: Harry is very hot. Very sweet. VERY protective.

“Hey everyone,” she greeted brightly. “How’s everyone today?” She asked while setting down a tray of eight glasses and two pitchers of water on the table.

“Wonderful, baby, so excited to have you.”

She nearly knocked the glasses over (fortunately, since they were water glasses, they were only plastic). She made eye contact with him and felt her heart completely stop for a few beats. Kael smiled wickedly in return.

Fuck.

She kept her smile in place. “What can I get you to drink?” She asked. After eight years, she already knew what he wanted so she focused on his teammates.

“We were hoping to see The Chargers tonight,” Kael told her. “Do they come here often?”

She didn’t respond. “We have a few specials tonight, so if you have any questions, please let me know,” then she sauntered away to place the drink order.

“Already know what I want, baby?” He called. “That’s so sweet!”

She ignored him. Taking deep breaths she headed to the kitchen. Louis wasn’t in yet. Harry didn’t know she was working. Which meant the rest of the team thought she wasn’t working too. Marc and Michael probably had their suspicions that she was with Harry. So, no one knew she was there. Not really.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was probably just going to be an hour. He had his team with him. It wasn’t like they could have a private conversation in the middle of a restaurant. Yeah, he would probably tease and torture her for the better part of that hour, but she could be civil. She could pretend. She had for ages. He didn’t know she was working for The Chargers—she was sure he had an idea that she might be. But the afternoon set it in stone.

He was such a dick. It was the first time she had seen him face to face since she moved out. Everything about him made her skin crawl and she hated it. Every touch and kiss between them seemed tainted now. All those good memories, dates, hockey games, everything felt ruined. Each interaction was colored now with the hindsight that he didn’t love her. Not the way she did. Not the way she expected him to love her for ever and ever. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve that. She knew she didn’t deserve that.

So why did he make her feel undeserving of it ever again?

*

Kael and his teammates came and went fortunately. Just as she predicted. Only a little over an hour. She refrained from speaking directly to Kael and focused on the group as a whole.

When Kael left, she was well past the feeling of relief. There should have been a stronger word for how liberated she felt. She used the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and took a moment to process everything. It was just like Kael to come in and make her feel like shit without even trying. Louis was supposed to be in, so at least she had that going for her.

“Hey love,” Louis called. “Everything good?” She probably looked a little shaken, so she wasn’t surprised he asked. She felt shaken.

“Good,” she smiled assuredly. She flitted around the room, ducked behind the bar, and went about her day. It was a busy night, and she wasn’t going to let Kael sour her shift that he had next to nothing to do with. So she didn’t. The next hour ticked on quickly and she was feeling more herself as the time stretched between Kael’s departure and the present.

“Hi baby,” he cooed.

Her arms felt numb almost instantly, she was lucky she didn’t drop her tray. Her fight or flight swept her and just made her freeze. She turned as she had earlier in the day and looked at him. “Hi,” she said curtly. He was alone, which made her nervous.

“I figured you must get a break soon. I’d like to talk.”

“Not for a while. And it’s busy,” at least that wasn’t a lie. “So I might not take one tonight.”

Louis was hurrying about from kitchen to back room, to front of house. It was busy as it could be, but she wanted to keep an eye on him. If Kael got her alone, she wasn’t sure she would be able to control her emotions as well as if she had someone that knew she was not in a situation she wanted to be in just by looking at her. Louis wasn’t Harry, but he would know all the same that she was uncomfortable.

Kael smiled brightly.

Well, at least someone that cared ifshe was uncomfortable.

“I’ll wait,” he offered.

“Great,” she deadpanned.

She went to the back room and wished that there was a group of Chargers there. If she called any of them, she knew they would break curfew and be there for her in a heartbeat. The thought of Kael anywhere near her would make Callie incensed for ruining her day. Niall would be protective in his own way and focused on her. Asher and Lang would get her away from The Locker Room and make sure Kael never set foot there again.

She could hardly imagine what Harry would do to him.

But she lied. She told Harry that she wasn’t working. The routines the boys had had in place prior to her arrival with the team had been disrupted more than she ever anticipated. It was nice they cared but it wasn’t fair to them to upheave their lives for her. She was just the photographer for the team. Their coach’s niece. They didn’t ask to have someone they needed to babysit.

She was an independent, self-sufficient person.

“You okay, love?” Louis asked.

She nodded and flitted around the room taking order and tried not to think about the feeling of Kael’s stare on the back of her head.

*

It was perhaps another hour, and Kael was true to his word in staying put. Fortunately, The Locker Room remained steadily busy. She didn’t have to lie about not taking her break. She foisted him off on another waiter who grew a little tired of him asking for her each time he went over. “Baby,” he snatched her hand as she went by.

She pulled away. “Kael, I’m busy,” she marched away before he could reach for her again.

Without warning a multitude of memories where he snagged her hand over the years filtered through her mind. His grip tight on her arm or hand. Never in a way that any outsider would notice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself. She was going to call Harry. His wrath would be well worth it. At least Kael was scared of Harry and the team. Especially if he was outnumbered. She was shaking a little as she headed for the kitchen hoping to catch Louis at least.

“Hey,” Kael said grabbing her again as she passed too close to his table. This time he caught a real hold of her arm and pinned it to the table. To any other onlooker it would look like he was just keeping her in place holding onto her hand in almost a romantic kind of way. No one would see how his fingers dug into her skin, how she was feeling the ache of the hard wood against her knuckles and wrist bone like she just lost an arm-wrestling contest. “I just want to talk.”

She wanted nothing less. “Hey, Louis!” She called quickly and loudly enough so that he would be able to hear her over the din of the whole place regardless of where he had gone off too.

Within seconds Louis was there from the back room.

Harry was right beside him. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her arm on the table. Her mouth popped open in shock. She had no clue he was there. Most obviously, she didn’t want him to see this. “Oh fuck,” she whispered and tried to pry her hand away from Kael’s. She squirmed slightly as he refused to release her. He cupped his other hand gently on top of her arm trying to get her to stop.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be here. He was only supposed to come to her rescue because she couldn’t figure out what else she was to do. She was going to hide in the kitchen and wait.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be around Kael.

“Styles,” Kael practically sang. He didn’t release her arm. “Didn’t know you were here. Tough loss today. I hope it’s the same tomorrow, to be honest.”

He didn’t take the bait. His nostrils flared. “Let go of her hand Crowe,” Harry snarled stepping closer to him.

“We were just talking, right baby?” Kael smiled and took his free hand to cup the side of her face. She turned her face away and brushed it away from her skin.

Harry continued to approach him—up close and personal. If they were on the ice the cages of their helmets would have been touching. “Let her go, right fucking now,” his shoulders were heaving.

“It’s fine,” she croaked. Harry didn’t even acknowledge her.

Was he trying to keep it together? Not make a scene, maybe? Harry was quick to anger—like most hockey players. He probably would have torn Kael limb from limb by now if this wasn’t a local place where fans and the rest of the team went.

“Let go of her,” her he repeated, his voice was so deep. His body shaking.

“Harry, I’m fine—”

He ignored her still and Kael continued keeping her in place despite her squirming. She wanted to whimper as he squeezed her tighter and pressed her hand harder into the table. To the untrained eye, you wouldn’t know. But Harry was watching like this was his favorite movie and they were at the climax of the plot. He saw the way she winced and her body bend slightly as he pressed harder. “Mind your fucking business, Styles,” Kael shook his head. “This doesn’t involve—”

“She is m’business. Especially when you’re fucking hurting her,” the whole bar area went silent as they realized one of their favorite celebrities was about to punch the lights out of one of the best names in hockey. “If y’don’t let her go, m’gonna rip your hand off, Crowe. And m’gonna enjoy it,” he promised shaking his head. “Let go of her.”

She wanted to move more but was utterly terrified. Harry could get in serious trouble. Kael wasn’t particularly dangerous, but his grip was making her whole arm ache. Harry’s threat made her stomach swoop; he was so ready to protect her. Of course that was nice, but she wanted to cry. Hurting one of the top professionals in the league (even if Harry was also at the top) was a great way to get a hefty suspension and fine if he was caught.

Just another way she was going to upend his perfectly normal, happy life.

“Harry, stop,” she begged.

“Yeah, Harry, stop,” Kael mimicked. But she inhaled sharply, pulling and moving again uselessly to try and get away from the grip he had on her wrist. She whimpered despite herself as the pain continued. “Mind your business Harry,” he snarled. “M’talking to my girlfriend.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge the comment. “Stop fucking touching her, Crowe.”

“She’s mine. I’ll do whatever I want to her.”

Harry stared at him, his gaze flicking to her wrist still pinned to the table. She was still squirming, looking to get away. Louis reached for her and Harry put his hand on his chest and pushed him away. He walked to the bar, grabbed a shot of whatever the bartender was pouring. His head tipped back as he sucked the liquid down. The quiet clink of his glass hitting the bar was the only sound in the room. Silently, Harry plucked the rings he wore when he wasn’t playing hockey off his fingers. He tucked them into the inside pocket of his jacket. It felt like the seconds were ticking by in slow motion. Not even the pain from Kael’s tight grip on her hand was enough to draw her attention away from Harry’s movements.

She swallowed, her eyes pleading with Harry not to do it. It wasn’t that bad. She could take it. The pain she was feeling now was hardly anything in comparison to what he could do. This was nothing.

“One more time, Crowe... Let go. Of her,” Harry’s voice was even. Measured. It had the tone of I’m not asking again.

“She’s mine, Styles. Find someone else to stalk.”

Harry smirked, shook his head, and his eyes flickered to hers for only a second. Then they were back on Kael. “Oh. No. No she’s very much not yours.”

As slow as the seconds had ticked by, they all came rushing back at full speed; maybe time even sped up. Harry delivered a lightning-fast punch to Kael’s nose causing him to gasp and drop her hand as he instinctively reached for his face. With the toe of his boot, Harry tipped his chair before Kael could get his bearings, and he fell flat to his back. The chair broke into pieces with his weight. He gasped, trying to right himself and protect his nose from bleeding everywhere. Harry reached down before Kael could get a grip. He yanked him up by the collar and front of his shirt. A stupid, ugly orange and blue sweatshirt that Harry was delighted to wrinkle hard in his hands. Before Kael was barely on his feet, Harry hauled him backward. Shoved him hard into the bar so the edge dug into his spine, no doubt. Without pause, Harry delivered a solid punch to his cheek, a heel stomp to his foot, and knee to his stomach.    

Kael bent forward, gasping for air and Harry’s breathing was as even as if he was sleeping.

Her hand went to her mouth and the other to her stomach as she tried to hold herself together. Everyone looked in pure shock. Surely someone was supposed to try and stop Harry. Even if he was a hockey player for the town that everyone loved. But given he incapacitated Kael in a matter of thirty seconds it wasn’t like anyone wanted to try and stop him. Even Louis was speechless and looked in horror. “Are y’gonna touch her again?” He didn’t say anything, which was the wrong answer as Harry twisted him in an instant, pressing his face down into the bar, pulling his arm back behind his body. “I said, are y’gonna touch her again?”

“No,” he rasped.

“M’letting y’keep your hand. Don’t make me regret it,” he snapped and shoved him a final time into the bar. He dropped a few hundreds on the bar for the damage and his drink. “Louis, keep the change,” he muttered over his shoulder without sparing another glance at Kael. “S’time t’go, Bunny,” he murmured lowly for no one else to hear but her. He placed an arm around her waist, and tugged her toward the exit. Every pair of eyes followed them.

“B-but m-my shift—”

Without missing a beat, he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and stuffed it in the front pocket of her apron. “Let’s go,” he repeated and ushered her outside.

Harry opened his passenger door and gestured for her to get in.

She looked nervous, which made Harry uneasy. This strong, brave woman who bantered with unruly hockey players and dealt with fans and drunk patrons looked a bit lost. “What about my car— I mean... your other—”

“Get in the car, Rookie,” he ordered.

She followed his direction. Harry waited until she was safely buckled inside before closing her in. He locked the door for the short walk around his car, only unlocking it so he could slip inside. Once seated and buckled, he turned the car on and immediately exited the parking lot. After driving in silence for several moments Harry dropped his hand on her thigh like it was an instinct.

He didn’t ask if she was okay. Which was kind of him, because how could she be? Her heart was thudding in her chest, her wrist hurt, and her brain was a mess. Harry’s hand on her leg should have made her uncomfortable given he didn’t ask. But it was almost too comforting, and she dreaded the idea that he would have to let go of her eventually.

“Don’t y’dare cry over him, bunny,” his voice was tight.

She sniffled, not realizing she was, in fact, crying. She swiped her hands across her cheeks. “Sorry,” she whispered looking toward the window.

Harry shook his head and sighed. His hand squeezed her leg while he pressed his head back into the seat hard—if the head rest wasn’t there and he didn’t have to watch the road, she was certain his eyes would be facing the ceiling of his car, searching for strength somewhere above him. His jawline seemed sharper than ever as he clenched his teeth. “Y’don’t have t’apologize.”

“Thank you,” she croaked quietly. “For doing that, I...” she swallowed hard. “I don’t really know what I would have done,” she admitted. The scenario didn’t seem to play out in full if Harry wasn’t there. Yeah, Louis would have helped, but this was different. Harry didn’t say anything. She pulled his wallet out of her apron and placed it in one of the cup holders between them. “I don’t want—”

“It’s yours.”

 “Harry, it’s not that—”

“Bunny, I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you all afternoon. Since I met you, really. I can’t stop. I used t’think ‘bout nothing but hockey. But s’like you’re the only thing on m’mind now. M’happy when I see you around the rink taking pictures. M’happy when y’try t’skate on m’pond. I love our lessons, and I want t’have y’in my house all the time. M’happy when you’re around. Happier than I’ve been in years, and I didn’t even know I wasn’t completely happy. I can’t have one-night stands anymore. I tried, I did. You’re a long shot. I know that. Someone who deserves a guy so much better than a hot-tempered hockey player as evident by the piece of shit that hurt you in so many ways,” His voice is quiet. “S’not a secret I like you. A lot. If we can only be friends and roommates—because m’sure as hell not bringing y’back to that sorry excuse of an apartment—then s'what I’ll do.”

There was only a brief beat of silence while she contemplated all he said. “I worked really hard on my apartment,” she whispered.

This seemed to soften him a little. He sighed. “It’s adorable, Bunny. It is. But m’constantly worried you’re going t’be kidnapped, robbed, or worse. You can move in this week,” he insisted. “I have the day off after tomorrow and I was going t’spend it at the gym t’lift with the guys so we can pack and move your shit all the same instead.”

“Harry, I don’t think that will work... I have to pay out the rest of my lease if I move out early.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffed. She didn’t say anything. Because she kind of agreed that it was bullshit. But she couldn’t move in with Harry. Not when he just admitted he liked her the way she did. It set her heart into a dramatic flutter. Being legally bound would hopefully be enough of a reason for Harry to agree to let her stay until her lease ran out. Then she could figure out her next steps. “Fine,” he decided after a moment. “The black debit card in m’wallet will take care of it.”

She snorted unable to hide her shock. “Harry, you can’t—”

“M’done arguing with you ‘bout this, Bunny.” She frowned and looked at her hand, turning her wrist and wincing ever so slightly. “Is your wrist okay?” He asked.

She shrugged and answered instinctively. “It hurts; but I’ve had worse,” she gasped at her own mistake almost instantly. “Oh fuck, I mean—” she stopped speaking. It didn’t matter. It was too late. Harry saw through it and understood exactly what she meant. He clenched the steering wheel tighter and he swallowed. The bob in his throat looked like he was drinking a glass of nails.

“Did he ever hurt you like this before?” Harry’s voice was an octave lower than she ever heard it. His eyes narrowed as he stared forward.

She didn’t want to make matters any worse, so she didn’t speak. Didn’t move. For several seconds, the car seemed so silent it was as if the tires weren’t even on the ground anymore or if she was breathing.

“Harry,” she whispered eventually.

Harry took a deep breath not liking the tone of her voice and pulled off to the side of the road.

“What are we— Harry!”

Before she could understand what was happening, Harry was outside and opening his trunk and the car doors locked her inside. Instantly, he pulled out one of the back-up sticks he had in case his two in the locker room broke in the middle of a game (or if he wanted to practice while he was home on the pond out back). He slammed it hard on the pavement multiple times grunting as he did until the stick snapped. Then he grabbed a second and repeated this process again, swearing and cursing like he was imagining Kael was under the stick.

Once satisfied with his destruction, he collected the broken pieces and dropped them in the back before sitting in the driver’s seat again, his breathing only slightly elevated.

She stared at him wildly. Her eyes were wide and beautiful. “If he touches you again, m’killing him,” he said simply. It was a promise. His breath was heavy from the exertion.

She nodded; Harry put the car in drive and continued back toward his place. His hand went right back on her thigh, which she still found comforting and warm, even though she had only had the luxury of his hand on her for no more than a few minutes. “Okay,” she whispered hoping there wouldn’t be an again to speak of.

Harry let the silence linger again. “My apartment is the other way,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I just told you, Rookie, y’not living there anymore.”

“Oh my God, Harry. You can’t be serious.”

He snorted. “No. I am. As a heart attack.”

“Harry I can’t move in—”

“Of course, y’can. I have like five bedrooms. Pick one. Pick three for all I care.”

She swallowed. “What if I pick your bedroom?” She was attempting to lighten the mood, maybe. Harry wasn’t sure. Or maybe she was trying (and failing) to be annoying. But Harry was never annoyed by her. He was amused at worst. She was adorable. Every little thing she did was adorable.

“Then it’s yours,” he shrugged. He was hardly home during the season anyway. With his niece, Mum, and Gem out of town, he wasn’t home much in the off-season either. He could easily move into another room if she wanted his. In fact, he probably would give her his room. It wasn’t the only one with a bathroom, but it had a nice tub that he knew was being wasted without proper use and it felt like she deserved a relaxing night to soak in the tub until she got pruney and everything else that stressed her in her life disappeared.

“I thought you didn’t bring women home to stay,” she reminded him.

“Never had one that I wanted t’bring home,” he shrugged.

She pressed her head to the window. He was quick. Didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll stay tonight, but I’m not moving in. My uncle is going to kill you.”

He shrugged. “S’a long line of Glacier Wolves who’ll want t’kill me before him.” She giggled softly under her breath. Harry glanced at her peripherally and smirked at the little smile that graced her lips. “M’niece is over a lot in the off season,” he told her. “Gem and Mum come by too. So s’had women there before.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Then, yeah. Never had a woman I wanted to bring home,” he repeated. Harry parked in his driveway, turned to her, his hand still on her thigh and honestly, she never wanted it to move.

“Are we still friends?” She blurted. He just admitted he liked her. It was no secret she liked him too. It could make things very awkward going forward so she wouldn’t blame him if he really didn’t want to be friends any longer.

“What a weird fucking question, Rookie,” he shook his head.

“Can you just tell me?”

“Yes, we’re still fucking friends. Despite the fact I would love t’be more.”

She closed her eyes. “He really fucked me up, Harry,” she whispered. “He... he wanted some trophy girlfriend that doted on him and worshipped him for being a good hockey player. He didn’t want me to be my own person. He didn’t want me to have my own hobbies or interests. Like I was nothing, a nobody—”

“Rookie,” he whispered.

“—and I just let him treat me that way. Because it was easier than confronting it—”

“Rookie.”

“—So I don’t want to keep falling for you because you... you’re so talented and you will overshadow me and you should. But it’s so fucking cold living in the shadow of someone else and I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He winced. “Bunny,” he wanted her to stop.

“I don’t love that nickname either,” she sighed. “I want to. It’s cute and it’s even cuter when you say it. But the connotation of being a puck bunny is just more of what Kael insinuated and I don’t—”

“I don’t think you are a puck bunny. S’not why I call you that. Y’wrinkle your nose like a bunny when y’concentrate. S’the first thing I noticed when I met y’taking pictures rink-side. And you’re always going and going like the little Energizer bunny. But mostly, s’because you’re so fucking cute like a bunny. S’honestly nearly nauseating sometimes.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed trying to keep all the feelings of falling for another hockey player at bay. “So, I make you sick?”

He smiled. “Excessively.”

“And you want me anyway?”

“Excessively,” he whispered cupping her face. She leaned into the touch, closed her eyes, and sank into the way his hand caressed her cheek for a moment.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked at him shyly. “You probably know that he cheated on me,” she reminded him. “And the worst of it, I don’t know if it was the first time, and I don’t want to know. Because I already felt stupid for letting him belittle me and letting me forget parts of myself.”

Harry tilted his head back fully staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Yeah...” And now Harry knew this wasn’t the first time he had hurt her either. Whether it was intentional or not.

“And...” she swallowed. “I don’t think you’re like him... if you take anything away from this conversation, please know that I think you’re nothing like him. You’re up front about most of everything. He kept things from me. But... you’re you and you could have any woman you want in any city you want. I don’t fault you for that—I really hope you know that... but I don’t want to be a number anymore, Harry. I don’t want to feel like an idiot, and I don’t think you would intentionally make me feel like an idiot but—”

“Bunny,” he interrupted, turning back to gaze into her eyes so intensely it felt like everything around them disappeared except for the space between them. The seriousness in his green eyes made her stomach flip. They seemed darker. Like the color was changing to a darker shade to explain how serious he was and how he meant every word that spilled from his mouth. “I think you’re brilliant,” he whispered. “In every facet of your life. I’ve thought about nothing but hockey m’whole life. It has been eat, sleep, and breathe ice, pucks, and sticks. The second I met you, every thought has been ‘bout you,” he reminded her. “If I never played another game of hockey, I really think I would be okay s’long as y’were around.”

Her heart felt like it was broken and whole all at the same time. It was too sweet. She bit the inside of her lip. “Well, I don’t want that,” she whispered. “You’re quite good,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “The point remains, Rookie... I want you t’have everything y’could possibly want. I want t’do anything I can t’help y’achieve anything y’want t’do.”

She looked at her lap. “I can’t believe you went to get a drink.”

“I really didn’t think y’would be there... was hoping I’d run into Louis and maybe he would know if y’were okay. Y’never answered my texts. Didn’t tell me y’made it home.” he frowned. “Why did y’lie t’me, Bunny?”

She took a deep breath. “The whole team has been so nice to me,” she whispered. “I’m not really used to that...” she trailed off. “Callie got so many penalties, you had to interrupt your post-game cool down to walk me to your car, everyone wants to take shifts to watch me... you have to drive me home, give me one of your car... I’ve seriously disrupted your lives... and it was all just too much today. I don’t want to bother you guys. You didn’t sign up to have a kid or a pet you need to watch. Uncle Charlie didn’t have to give me a job with a hockey team. I feel like I didn’t earn anything. It’s so sweet that all of you care, but it’s weird for me...”

God, she was cute. Even sad she was cute. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Y’haven’t disrupted our lives,” he promised. “We’d do this for anyone.”

“That’s comforting I suppose.”

“C’mon, s’late... we have a game tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Course, Rookie,” he squeezed her leg one more time and then got out of the car. (As she predicted, she hated the feeling of Harry’s hand anywhere else but her thigh.)

Entering his house, Harry kicked off his shoes and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms. She texted her group chat with Michael and Marc as she flopped onto the couch until she got more direction from Harry.

I’m at someone’s house for the night so don’t worry about me.

Michael reacted to her message with a thumbs up.

It better be a HOT hockey player.

Michael reacted to Marc’s message with a thumbs down.

Good night, Marc!

I want every INCH of detail

That earned a vomiting emoji from Michael. I do NOT want any details.

GOOD NIGHT MARC

*

Harry hated that he had a big house. If they were at her apartment, they could have been squished in her bed right then. She wouldn’t be down the hall and half of Harry’s mattress wouldn’t have felt so cold. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Fortunately, his phone vibrated almost immediately. Like she somehow knew he was awake.

Are you awake?

M-hmm

Can we get breakfast, please?

Harry would throw himself down a set of stairs for her if she asked. “You could jus’ come in here t’ask,” he called.

“I’m creating boundaries!” She answered from a guest room. “Besides this bed is comfy and I don’t want to get up,” she giggled.

“Well, I don’t want boundaries,” he grumbled to himself. He wondered if she slept without pants on. Not that it mattered. He was turned on by the thought of her naked in his bed or if she was in a full snow suit.

“What did you say?” She called.

“Nothing,” he grumbled and pressed the palm of his hand over the front of his shorts willing the blood to rush anywhere but his dick at the thought of her in a goddamn snow suit. “I just have t’shower,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll be here,” she sighed, and Harry could picture her snuggling herself further into the mattress. Maybe it was for the best she was in another room. If she was there looking all cute and cuddly on his bed, he would have to quit hockey. He would probably spend the rest of his life worshipping her on his mattress in every possible way.

Plus, his dick would never be anything but hard.

“Jesus, fuck,” he sighed to himself under the spray of the warm shower. He tried to think about anything but her pretty self in the other room. In his house. In his bed. In his clothes. She was probably changing into her uniform from the night before, so at least he wouldn’t see her in the shirt and shorts he gave her to wear for bed.

He shook his head and focused on shower and not what it would feel like to press her against the tile or—

“Fuuuuck,” he touched his forehead against the tile. Hockey. Defense. Goals. Niall. That’s good. Niall, gross. Callie—FUCK Callie. Asher owes me ten dollars for betting Lang wouldn’t say “good effort” in their pool game the other day.

His shower took twice as long to shower because he had to actively think about something other than his pretty friend. Once he was out, he slipped into a pair of sweats and one of his long sleeve practice shirts. As he put on his deodorant, he realized it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize what she was doing as he got dressed. “Rookie, you are not,” he called as he hurried down the hall.

“Not what?” She asked innocently.

“Doing my dish—Rookie, what the hell!”

“They were just there! And I was bored, Harry. Plus, you didn’t say I couldn’t!”

“I told you last time.”

“Well yeah, but that was last time.”

“Please stop,” he begged and rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re supposed t’be going t’breakfast.”

“Well, I figured while you took two years to get ready,” it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes max but maybe his effort to not think about her in his shower took longer than he thought, “I would make myself useful,” she shrugged and set the final dish on the drying rack beside his sink. She turned the water off and ran the dishtowel over the counter and edge surrounding the sink. She turned, leaning against the counter. Her black and silver uniform top for The Locker Room was on her again. Her leggings from the night before clung to her legs like a second skin.

He wondered how she could look so cute after working a hectic, busy shift, then slept all night and it barely looked like she had a hair out of place. “What?” She asked looking down at her shirt. “Do I have something on this? We’ll have to stop at my apartment first if I do. I’m not going out with you to breakfast when you look hot and I look like trash,” she frowned.

He snorted. “Y’don’t look like trash, Rookie.”

“Well, do I smell or something?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re beautiful. Stunning really,” he shrugged one shoulder and reached out to touch her face. He skimmed his thumb along her cheek wishing he could lean in and kiss her until they were both breathless. He smiled softly enjoying the way her cheek warmed under his touch. For someone so snarky, she was awfully shy. “Let’s go,” he tilted his head toward the main hallway. He made his way before she could read into it as he was sure she was wont to do.

Harry opened her passenger door and smiled wickedly at her as she got in. “What?” She asked, her eyebrows pinching together.

“You think I’m hot,” he sang.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Harry chuckled, closing her inside.

*

Kael didn’t play because he was injured. The report sustained it happened at practice the day before but everyone on The Chargers bench knew. Kael kept his gear on but moved to the end of the bench for the starters and lines of his teammates that would be playing. He hardly cheered, hardly moved.

The rest of The Wolves sent death glares to everyone on the team. Harry was checked into the boards more times than he could count. But every time he caught sight of the pretty photographer twirling her wrist in between photos, he felt grateful for each hit. She continued to take pictures, placing her camera into the cutouts of the glass around the ice.

Kael hid from pictures from his own media specialist, the news outlets, and even the fans during the game and in between periods.

“Coward,” Asher growled as they left the ice and headed to the locker room at the end of the game. The group that typically resided in the back of The Locker Room was livid when they found out from Harry that Kael hurt her. They too must have seen the way she twisted her wrist around between pictures. Harry wondered if she noticed she was doing it. It ate at him that it wasn’t the first time that piece of garbage hurt her. There was nothing Harry could do—well, maybe if he ever did figure out time travel, he could. But for now, he could take the hits from Kael’s stupid team and make sure the pretty photographer was okay.

Besides.

He may have had a tough game physically, but Harry was truly on cloud nine.

“Sweetheart, you good?” Lang called from the front of the line heading back toward the locker room.

“I’m good!” She answered.

Harry didn’t even care that Niall was walking alongside her and not him. Or that Callie gave her arm a squeeze when he walked by. It didn’t bother him that Asher was as irate as him either.

Because the word Styles was on her body. It was purposeful. If Kael paid attention, he would see it. He would know she supported Harry, regardless of how outlandish it was (or wasn’t) that he defended her last night. Harry knew the second he saw it, that Kael was going to look at the pretty girl with his number on her and start fuming in his seat. Maybe that’s why his team aimed for him so vehemently throughout the game as well.

Whatever, Harry could take it.

It was well worth it to see his name on her jersey.

Harry realized it was his time to shine after they went out for breakfast. He drove her to get her car at Louis’. He followed her home to the shady apartment building. He wasn’t in the mindset to leave her for any bit of time given the night before. Maybe not for a good few days either if he had it his way. They had away games coming up so they would be all but trapped together on a plane, a bus, and in a hotel so that was in his favor.

He really hoped she would be in a nearby room at the hotel. Or better yet, there wouldn’t be enough rooms, and he could share his with her.

“Why’d you choose eleven?” She asked when she came out of her room after getting ready. She was fluffing her pretty hair and tugging at the hem of the jersey that she had put on. It took a moment to register in Harry’s mind that she was talking to him and was anticipating a response. In her mind, it was no big deal that she was nonchalantly wearing his name and number. That she was by far the prettiest thing he had ever seen. The sweetest person he knew.

He swore his heart skipped a beat as his vision refocused on the lovely girl wearing his name on her back.

He cleared his throat. “S’the first number I ever got,” he shrugged. “But now I say m’so good, m’number twice.”

She grinned and laughed quietly under her breath as she put earrings on with The Chargers logo. “I like that. You are very good. I’ve seen a lot of hockey myself. I like to think I’m a good judge of ability.”

When Harry was younger, he thought if he could have a superpower, he would want to time travel. As he got older it changed a bit, he wanted super strength so he could be the strongest hockey player. Read minds so he could predict the movements of opponents on the ice. Since he met her, he returned to the tried and true: if he could time travel, he could figure out twenty seconds after he kissed her if she hated him or kiss him back, he would have done it right then.

He smirked. “So m’the lucky one today?” He asked pulling on the sleeve.

“I don’t know, does wearing someone’s jerseys constitute as lucky for the day?”

He nodded. “Yeah, very much so, Rookie.”

“Then sure; you’re very lucky, Harry,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to keep his smile from splitting his face in half. He turned away slightly and caught sight of a string of pictures on her little kitchen bar. “What’s all this?” He asked, picking up a photo and inspecting it. It was one of the ones she took while Harry was practicing before the rest of the team showed up. Another photo she got laying down on the ice of Callie’s skates when Harry wanted to rip his teammate’s arm off for holding her so close that day. One from Niall’s empty net. Another of Asher’s locker, his jersey on display. A close up of the C on Lang’s jersey. One of just the empty rink—no fans, no players, nothing.

“Oh... I don’t know,” she looked away shyly piling them together. “I was playing with the idea of making a series of photos,” she flipped one over to indicate the back showed the number three in the line. “You guys are attractive and stuff, but I thought there was a lot of beauty in the little things behind the bench, you know? It’s not just fights and points. The rink is so pretty,” she shrugged.

Harry grabbed her hand before she could stack any more of them away. He looked at each of the pictures painstakingly selected from the hundreds of photos she took each day. The way the light shone off a helmet, the way a shadow fell on the bench. “They’re beautiful, Bunny. Why don’t y’do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make it a series?”

She shook her head. “No... I don’t know. Not many people care about sports photography,” she shrugged. “Not like this anyway.”

“Rookie, I think every team owner and manager in the league would pay t’have this set in their arena.”

“No way, there’s not a single headshot of a star player. In sports, the only thing that really sells by far is you guys and your pretty faces,” she patted his cheek. “It’s tragic, I have some incredible photos of a few baseball diamonds at sunset. But there’s no fans and no players so it just wouldn’t sell well.”

“Show me,” he urged.

She sighed and put her jacket over “We’re going to be late, Harry. Uncle Charlie is already going to be annoyed with me that I’m wearing your jersey. And so will the rest of the team.”

“They all had their turn, Rookie, y’made me wait forever,” he grumbled. They didn’t have to be annoyed. They didn’t have a crush on her the way Harry did. They all knew that. His teammates were his family, but they made him cranky no less; teasing him about how smitten he was about their photographer.

She smiled sadly. “Harry,” she sighed. “I’ll show you another time.”

“Promise?” He pleaded.

“Promise?” She repeated in disbelief. Harry was nearly thirty years old and sounded like he was in kindergarten.

“Promise you’ll show me,” he said pointedly.

“Alright, yeah," She shook her head, sighed with a smile still on her lips. "I promise.”

--

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[in1-nutshell]

Can i request a Spiderman buddy who's fun and chill to hang out with 2012 tmnt in personality and abilities wise? Like buddy can be a mentor of sorts to teach and guide them while also learning how to have fun.

Some more turtles!

Hope you enjoy!

Spidey Buddy meets the Turtles

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Spidey reader

TMNT 2012

Spidey had been protecting the citizens of New York for roughly a year and a half.

It was a bit of a rough start while getting used to his new powers and dealing with new villains.

But overall, it wasn’t too bad!

Until recently Spidey thought he had seen everything.

He should have known better than say that in this city…

Thanks to some word on the street, some mutant ninja creatures were staring to pop up around the area.

Time to investigate!

Spidey is scaling up a building after hearing some arguing. Spidey: “I swear, if I don’t get leads on this rooftop and another couple fighting… Maybe this is a sign from the universe to get some well-deserved hot dogs. Please let it be some pigeons… please let it be some pigeons…” Spidey pokes his head up. There are four turtle mutants arguing about the best way to enter a building. Spidey: “…Why does the universe hate me… I just wanted some dogs…” Pigeon Pete suddenly descends from the sky. Spidey: “…what… the…”

And that’s how Spidey met the turtles.

Granted many of them were sore with how they got found out, but they quickly got over that.

It was nice to have another friend around.

A vigilante friend!

Spidey doesn’t know what nearly caused him to have a stroke when he was invited to the lair.

The fact that these teens had two other human friends or the fact that their sensei was a giant rat.

Nope, it’s both.

Spidey has both April and Casey during his arm wrapped in webs. Casey: “Let us go!” Spidey promptly sets them both on the couch. Spidey: “Now sit and think on what you did wrong.” April: “We were just trying to help!” Spidey: “What help? Casey’s only weapon is a hockey stick and sheer determination to piss me off.” Casey: “Pretty swe—MMM!?” Spidey webbed his mouth shut. Spidey turns back to April. Spidey: “And don’t get me started on you O’Neil. You have no powers and whatever stunt you tried that nearly got you decapitated.” April: “That’s called my training. Splinter has been teaching me.” Spidey: “…” A few minutes later… Splinter is sitting under the tree meditating. Spidey drops down the tree upside down with narrowed lenses. Spidey: “Please tell me you did NOT tell April she was ready for patrol with the training she has.” Splinter: “She is ready.” Spidey: “NO SHE’S NOT!”

Yeah, Spidey has a bit of a bone to pick with April, Casey, and Splinter.

He does respect them and all, but it’s the dumb and impulsive stuff that gets under his skin.

Though to be fair, the turtles are in a league of their own.

Starting with Leo and Raph.

He has lost count of the number of times he has webbed them apart.

Whether on patrol or in the lair, Spidey is getting sick of it.

In the moments when Spidey isn’t wrangling the two brothers down, he gets along great.

Leo now has a fellow nerd to watch Space Heroes and not degrade him!

The two have had countless rants about characters during reruns.

Spidey also helps Leo ease up with the whole leader position.

Raph had gotten a great training partner.

Not only was Spidey quick and hard to punch, but he was incredibly strong!

The red turtle won’t admit it… but he is so grateful for his new friend for making sure the roaches in the lair were gone.

How he did it?

Raph really doesn’t want to know.

Leo and Raph are sparring in the dojo with Spidey watching from a few feet away.  Everything seems normal. …Until some harsher words are put out and some more advance movements. Spidey: “Hey! Calm down over there. Its still a friendly spar.” Leo: “Tell that to the brute in front of me!” Raph: “Brute!? I’ll show you brute!” Raph goes to throw a punch to the face, but his fist gets stopped by a web. Faster than he could react, Raph and Leo are webbed to the ceiling. Spidey is just looking at them with arms crossed. Spidey: “Now, while I would get you guys a ‘Get along shirt’, this is much better. Make up in 20 minutes and I’ll let you guys down.” Leo: “Hey!” Spidey: “See ya!” Raph: “Spidey! Get back here!” Spidey: “I wonder if that hot dog stand is open at this time?”

Donnie and Mikey were easily the best duo that Spidey got along with.

With Mikey’s high energy and pranks, Spidey found someone who could help him work on his spidey sense better.

He had to admit it, the orange turtle was scarily skilled when he want to be.

Spidey really wants to help him hone in on that aspect but there was so much you could do when someone doesn’t want to do the activities.

Now Donnie?

Might as well be Spidey’s best friend.

Science nerds meeting together?

YES!

Both of them are prohibited in the lab after 9 pm.

Last time that happened they didn’t come out until 8pm… a week later…

Spidey, Mikey, and Donnie are talking in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in hand. Spidey: “And that’s how I swing around without falling on my face.” Donnie nods. Mikey: “But when do your webs run out dude?” Spidey: “Run out?” Mikey: “Yeah!” Spidey: “…Mikey these are organically made.” Donnie and Mikey: “What?” Spidey: “My own body makes it.” Spidey shows them the hole in his wrist where the webs come from. Mikey: “So cool!” Donnie: “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!? I thought you only used the web cartilages?” Spidey shrugs. Spidey: “That’s just a personal project Donnie. I don’t actually use them.” Mikey: “Wow! Its like your one of us!” Spidey: “… I’m going to need you guys to sit down when I tell you this.”

[kaleforcale888]

Just Y/n - Cale Makar

Summary: You are not sure where you and Cale stand in your relationship.

Word count: 2.3K

Warning: cale being a red flag; lack of communication; anxiety

a/n: so while going through the notes app in my phone I found some of my work from the original kaleforcale888 and decided to rewrite it. Anyway thanks for sticking around as I get my crap all back together!

You didn’t know what it was about Cale, but you were definitely starting to have stronger feelings than just “liking” him. What a cliché, middle school thing to say, liking someone. You didn’t know what it was about the man; maybe it was his beautiful, blue eyes that caught you attention, or his crazy hair that sticks up in all different directions at any given moment.

Despite being incredibly good looking, he was also the sweetest person you had ever met. Cale had the best personality. On the outside he was reserved and quiet, but once you got to know him, he was actually really interesting and fun to be around.

You hadn’t been seeing or even hanging out with Cale for very long, only going on a few dates here and there depending on when he was in Denver. You had met at a King Soopers’ Starbucks, him having come in for a drink and leaving with your phone number. From then on you had been on one formal dinner date but had hung out at miscellaneous times when he was in the state. Your favorite was just spending time with him at his apartment and doing random, mundane things. You felt like you got to know the real Cale, not Cale Makar: MVP defenseman.

Spending so much time together made you feel like you had known him your entire life. One date and ever since, you had magically fallen into a routine together. When he had home games, you’d stay at his apartment until the game was over, then spend the evening together before sharing a bed together for the night. While he was away, you would sit at home, missing him, wishing he was there with you.

With your routines naturally integrating, you never had the “what are we talk.” Yeah, you kissed on a regular basis and often slept in the same bed, but some aspects of your life never fully unified; and for a time, part of you was fine with that, but as of late, it was starting to wear on you. You had never met his friends or even teammates, let alone his family, and you started to doubt your relationship, or maybe lack thereof.

***

You sat on the couch of Cale’s apartment, watching the end of the hockey game. The Avs won again, and you knew he would walk through the door nonchalantly but would be elated on the inside. After about an hour or so later, a jingle of keys in the door let you know that Cale was home. You smiled to yourself.

“I’m home,” Cale joked, throwing his bag next to the door so he could easily find it tomorrow morning.

Looking back at him, you rested your chin on the back of the couch, “Hi, how was it,” you asked, acting like you hadn’t just watched the entire game in his living room. You always liked to ask him how it went to get his perspective.

He crouched down to be level with you and smiled, “It was good.”

You rolled your eyes at his humbleness and leaned in closer to him. Cale closed the gap between you, placing a quick kiss on your lips and stood up, too fast for your liking.

There honestly wasn’t a thought running through your mind that he didn’t like you, especially not after that flirtatious kiss. You just wished you would finally make it “official.” All you wanted recently was to meet his friends and to be a part of his world, completely.

“Hey babe,” Cale called, you didn’t even realize he had walked away because too distracted by your own thoughts.

Slightly smiling to yourself at the sweet endearment, “Yeah?” Why were you even questioning anything?

“I think I’m gonna take a quick shower, then head to bed. You are more than welcome to stay if you’d like,” he said, leaning on the door frame of his bedroom, waiting for a response. You just shook your head and settled back into the couch.

***

A few days later, you found yourself back in the very same place, Cale’s apartment. You had spent the night and he had just got back from his morning skate. “So then, Mel and a few of the other girls came and picked up their new jackets, and the guys got distracted so Bednar just ended it then.”

You shook your head, just listening to him as you stole a grape from his lunch plate. You were keeping unusually quiet today and sat with your thoughts, this was new to Cale, but he could tell that there was something bothering you. All you could think about was getting a jacket with Cale’s name on the back and being able to sport it with pride on game days. You also couldn’t help but wonder if you would get along with the other girls and wanted to meet his friends.

Sitting in silence for a few more moments, opening and closing your mouth, Cale looked up at you, expecting you to speak, “do you think I’d get along with the other girls?”

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” he responded, walking to the kitchen, “You’d probably love them.”

“What about the guys?”

“They’d probably adore you, probably chirp you for being with me, but its all-in good nature,” he said as he opened the fridge to pretend to look busy, “But why are you bringing this up now? What’s going on?”

“I want to meet your friends, your Denver family. I want to see the other side of you and the other community you’re apart of. I feel like you’re ashamed of me or some…” before you could finish, Cale closed the door of the fridge and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a breath, walked closer to you, and grabbed your hands.

“I’m not ashamed of you by any means… it’s just always been hard for me to let people into my life. But listen, if it really means that much to you,” he stopped and took a deep breath, “there is a charity dinner next weekend, before the start of the playoffs, would you like to be my date? We could get all dressed up, maybe look for a dress…”

Before he could continue, you shrieked out a yes and grabbed his face, kissing all over it. “Does this mean I get to meet all the guys?”

“I don’t see why not,” he smiled at you and pressed your foreheads together before kissing you.

***

The charity  dinner was tonight and to say you were nervous was an understatement. How was Cale going to introduce you? Were you his girlfriend, his good friend? You weren’t entirely sure.

You looked in the mirror, and touched up your hair as Cale came into the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He arrived 30 minutes early as always and waited on your bed as you finished getting ready. Making eye contact through the mirror, you gave him a tight-lipped smile to which he returned, “I’m a little nervous,” you said as you scrunched into your shoulders.

“It’ll be okay,’ he said, finally walking into bathroom to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

“I know,” you turned around in his arms, “but what if they don’t like me? They have to be protective over you.”

“I promise you, if I like you, they’re going to have to put up with you. But you only have like 2 minutes, otherwise we’re gonna be late,” he said, checking his watch.

You rolled your eyes, “your definition of late or mine,” you teased and turned to finish what you were doing.”

***

As you walked into the hall, it felt like all eyes were on you and Cale, his arm interlocked with yours as you entered. “Calers!” A tall blonde man shouted across the room. Cale’s cheeks turned brighter red than normal as he directed you towards the group the man was standing with.

“Hey guys.”

“Well, well, well, Calers, who is this?” One of the men in the group asked.

“This is Y/n. Y/n this is Gabriel Landeskog, Nathan Mackinnon, and JT Compher.” He finished, pointing to a decently tall man with flaming red hair. Your heart sank in your chest, and you looked down hoping your face didn’t show too much disappointment. You weren’t officially his girlfriend; you just did relationship-y things. An awkward silence landed over the group.

“It’s nice to finally put faces to the names,” you fake laughed, breaking up some of the silence.

As the guys started up a conversation about what they could do better heading into playoff season, a woman walked up to Gabe. She gave the man a drink before stepping closer to you and offering you a smile, “Hey, I’m Mel.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” you smiled back at the blond.

“All this hockey talk is kind of boring, would you like to get a drink?”

You shook your head and untangled your arm in Cale’s before leaning up and whispering to him, “I’m gonna go get a drink,” to which he responded with a nod and a kiss to your cheek.

You followed Mel to the bar and ordered your drink, “I’m Gabe’s wife, if you couldn’t tell,” she joked, making you feel less nervous, “Are you Cale’s girlfriend?” She asked as you sat down at the bar together.

There it was the ever so dreaded question. Taking a sip of your cocktail to distract yourself, you shook your head, “no, just Y/n,” you said, repeating what Cale had told the other guys earlier in the evening.

Mel shook her head in understanding, “We’ll, he’s truly a good kid, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, looking over at her husband and the defenseman interacting.

“No, yeah, I know. We’ve been hanging out for a while and I really like him, but we’ve never made anything official.”

Mel looked at you, studying your body language, she could tell this was bothering you. “Well, I don’t know how long you guys have been “hanging out”, but I’ve known him for three years now, and he’s never once brought a date to one of these. Let alone a barbeque or team pool party.”

A slight smile crept up on your lips. At least he felt comfortable enough to be willing to introduce you to his friends, despite you having to ask him. You and Mel continued to talk and get to know each other before she excused herself. When you looked over to find Cale, you saw her talking to Gabe and Cale, who looked like he was very interested in whatever she had to say.

Not long after, you finished your drink and followed in her footsteps to find Cale who was talking to some older looking men. Tapping on his shoulder, he greeted you with a smile, pulled you into his side, and continued his conversation with the men. Once there was a lull in the conversation, he looked down to you, noticing you weren’t acting like yourself, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “just getting a little tired,” you finished off with a fake yawn.

Cale shrugged it off and looked at his watch, “It is getting late, why don’t we get out of here?”

As you walked to the car hand in hand, your thoughts couldn’t help but spiral. Cale opened the car door for you; this sucked, you knew when you got home you would fall directly back into the dance of avoiding whatever conversation needed to happen.

Slamming your eyes shut, you laid your head on the car seat. The quiet got interrupted by Cale gently whispering, “You’ve seemed a little off these past few days. What’s going on in that mind of yours Y/n?”

“Nothing.”

“Please don’t lie to me, Y/n.” Cale whispered, grabbing your hand.

“I’m not lying.”

“I know you are. I was talking to Melissa, and I think we need to have a conversation.”

This conversation could either be very bad or very good, there was no telling at this moment.

“I agree,” you breathed out.

“She said that I should stop avoiding telling you how I feel,” he said as gently started rubbing his thumb across your knuckle, “I hope you know I really like you,” you slightly chuckled, “like a lot.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I was really starting to doubt, I mean just Y/n. Really, Cale? You can’t even introduce me as your girlfriend,” you said, refusing to look up at him.

“I didn’t think we needed a title. For goodness’ sake, we practically spend every waking minute together!” Despite his frustration and lack of being able to truly communicate his feelings, he remained calm. He knew that raising his voice could only make the situation worse and he would only feel more frustrated, “I thought those were titles were juvenile.”

You quickly looked up at him, laughing, trying to hold back tears, “Cale, I want to be your girlfriend!”

Cale sighed and leaned over the console, putting your foreheads together.

“Okay then, will be my girlfriend?”

“Really? That’s all it took for you to finally ask me but yes” you smiled and kissed him.

“I’m sorry, by the way… I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”

“I accept your apology. But I will say, we are both terrible at communicating.”

“I agree, now can we go home?” he asked as he put the car in reverse to pull out of the parking spot.

***

A couple of weeks later, a package was delivered to Cale’s apartment addressed to you. Opening the cardboard box, you found a burgundy jacket with two interlocking hockey sticks on the arms. On the back was “MAKAR” stitched in black with a white outline and a big 8 to match his jersey. You smiled widely and hugged the fuzzy jacket in excitement. The only other thing inside the box was a note.

“Just in time for playoffs :) - M”

[fenheart87]

Pain of the Tongue

This is not for my SoulTember challenge but the idea is you feel the pain of your soulmate. Marinette feels a familiar pain in her tongue but it fades quicker than last time. Now she has an idea and some suspicions as to who her soulmate is.

Marinette knew she was being rude by ignoring her best friend but this was way more important. The this being the mouth of one Luka Couffaine. It had been bugging her ever since Juleka let it slip that her ever so lovable dumbass of a brother and his walking fashion hazzard disaster of a best friend had done something stupid and Luka had bit through his tongue. The same day hers had started with a sharp pain that faded into a dull one that meant her soulmate had done something to theirs. Which meant that her soulmate could be Luka. Or wishful thinking but she had to prove it one way or another.

"Girl you stare at his mouth any longer and he might just offer his lips to you."

"I want to kiss him but that's so not what this is about." A beat of silence passed and Marinette realized she said that out loud. "Juleka said a couple weeks ago that Luka did something and bit through his tongue right?"

"Uh-huh?" The unsaid I'm not following was loud and clear in the reporter's tone.

"The same day I had a really bad and lingering pain in my tongue. I was thinking about it and a couple years ago I had a sharp unexplainable pain that lasted about four weeks. Looking it up back then to find answers, I found some piercing care websites and the typical healing time frame is four to six weeks. I think Luka has his tongue pierced and he's my soulmate."

"Okay wow, hold on girl." Alya pulled up her notepad on her phone and started a list. "Evidence we can prove please."

"He never shows his tongue, ever. When he laughs, it's always behind his hand or just a quiet chuckle that doesn't show it. Never sticks it out when Juleka does it to him. Juleka always mentions his obsession with rocky road ice cream and how he was ready to die when he couldn't have it for a month. Luka hurt his tongue the same day mine hurt. He's always careful of what he eats, using mouthwash after meals as recommended on those piercing sites."

"Clearly you need to be the Ladyblogger and not me. So what are you going to do? Just bat your pretty blue eyes and lay one on him?"

"Maybe but I need proof first."

"I gotta say, I'm glad we're over the Adrien days."

"Me too Alya, me too."

--

The plan was simple: try and make Luka show his tongue. The only problem is she was making him nervous with all her staring and Juleka was noticing. Marinette forgot how focused on something she could be but decided to tone it down otherwise he was going to think she had an unhealthy fascination with his mouth. Which okay she did but not like in a creepy way. Whatever.

"Did Luka do something?"

"Not recently, no."

"Okay… Can I ask why you're staring at my brother like he's a piece of meat?"

"I'm not meaning to! I mean I am staring but like it's for a reason!" She groaned, this wasn't sounding any better by the second. "You can help me. Do you know if Luka has his tongue pierced?"

"Why?" Marinette really hated how all the Couffaines had that stare into your soul look.

"I've been thinking about it and two years ago my tongue had this sharp pain that lasted about a month and then last week it was kind of similar and it seems when Luka hurt his tongue mine started hurting which you know soulmates share each other's pain and it's possible he's mine?" That was tame as far as her rambles normally would go and now she just had to wait.

"So you've been trying to catch… His tongue?"

"Yes."

"You could just ask him"

"I know!"

"Or kiss him, see if it's there." The purple loving girl shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal either way.

"Juleka!"

"No need to sound so scandalized. So maybe he does and maybe he doesn't. How are you going to prove it?"

"Haven't gotten that far."

--

Luka grabbed another popsicle from the freezer, it was like back when he had gotten his tongue pierced. He had had it checked out and nothing was wrong with the piercing or the slight scar so the only conclusion he could come to was something to do with his soulmate. Which was weird to think about because it caused a trill of happiness and an equal response of upset. He still held feelings for a certain pink designer after all.

"Oh my God! Have you seen it?! Have you seen it?" Alya's voice could be heard before her footsteps clamored across the deck. Signing, he grabbed a large cup of ice and took that too. They had band practice but his mouth pain was killing him.

"What are you talking about Alya?" Oh hey, Marinette was here too.

"Ladybug! I had a short interview with her and she got her tongue pierced!"

"What?" Okay that wasn't his voice but Juleka was keeping the convo going and he stayed where he was just out of sight for a moment.

"Yeah! She got her tongue pierced! I asked her why she wasn't talking as much in the last few akuma battles and her face looked like she was in pain so she just stuck out her tongue and then yo-yo'd away!"

"That's cool but it must be painful." Marinette was coming around the corner and paused as she saw Luka, raising a fine arched brow as if waiting for an answer.

"It was so cool! I almost missed it on camera but look Rose!"

"Hey Marinette."

"Hey Luka, I have an important question. For tongue piercings at what point is kissing considered okay?"

"Four to six weeks depending on the person and their healing ability. Sometimes its less and if you take good care of it then usually a month as long its not tonsil hockey battle." The response was a knee jerk reaction and recited the exact same words his piercer gave him.

"Hm well I guess I can live with that for now." Why was she getting closer and why- Oh. Oh. Marinette was kissing him. Wait. Kissing him?! Luka froze up and a blush took over his face, causing the sneaky girl to giggle as she pulled back. Patting his cheek with a shy smile, Marinette promptly stuck out her tongue to reveal a bar with two balls the color of Viperion's suit.

"Wait, what?" Luka.exe has crashed.

"You work on getting your brain working again and maybe you can get a second chance at that kiss later."

Oh hell.

[seventhrounder]

I went thru my folder with old hockey magazines I had saved from around 2011 to 2015 and came across this one and thought it could be a fun to make a post about now in hindsight.

This is Jääkiekko magazine from May 2012, they always have a section of "99 questions with ..." and in this issue they interviewed Teräväinen.

I’ve translated the questions I found interesting under the cut! It ended up being about half of the interview. (*) are my additions.

On the cover "seuraava superjokeri" means the next super joker, he played for Helsingin Jokerit so it's a word play from that. Under, on the blue print it says: "The 17-year-old forward will become a first round draft pick in the summer. The natural goal scorer can dominate in SM-Liiga as soon as next season."

In the 2nd photo the headline and lead paragraph goes:

"A post with dents* - A year ago Teuvo Teräväinen was known only within a small number of hockey insiders. Few passers-by recognize him now either but after a flashy rookie season the Jokerit sensation is on the radar of every NHL team and is a strong contender to become a first round draft pick. Next season with Jokerit the talented second line center will be one of the main talking points in the SM-Liiga."

(*references the net Teräväinen had in his backyard and into which he practiced his shooting)

3. You've been described as a magician, top scorer, wunderkind and a prodigy. What do you think of these descriptions?

TT: Heh, those are some descriptions yeah. What can I really say? Don't really wanna comment on them much.

4. How nervous are you about the Draft?

TT: I try not to be nervous as best as I can. In a way I don't have anything to be nervous about since I don't care which team picks me or at what number I go.

6. Which is stressing you more, English interviews or physical tests?

TT: Maybe both. Bench press (laughs) and English interviews can be tough.

12. How far along have you planned your career with, for example, your parents or your agent?

TT: Haven't really planned things with others but I've thought about them myself. I try to go step by step and not jump too far ahead.

14. How does it feel to be so young with all the star players in Jokerit?

TT: How to say it? I haven't felt like I was young but a part of the team instead. The team's been very good with me and they haven't been looking down at me like: "oh he's young". It's been fun to play in an experienced team.

15. Is there a generational gap between players?

TT: You can see the age difference, older players look older but we're all childish, at least with our topics.

17. What does a 17-year-old do in the sauna nights of the team?

TT: I actually haven't been in any yet. I've always been at national team's camps or something.

19. Did you get the number you wanted?

TT: I did, yeah. I could've taken #18 but Semir (Ben-Amor) has it. But i'm happy with #86, it's good.

23. What are your strengths as a player?

TT: Offensive play and with that playing with the puck, passing, IQ, power play and skill, just the usual skill - skill with hands.

24. And weaknesses?

TT: They are to do with defensive play, strength and physicality. Battles and such but I think I took a step forward last season. That's a good thing.

25. Have you ever been "pressed into a mold" or has your playing style gotten to develop naturally?

TT: As a kid the play was mostly offensive/attacking, I didn't have to think about playing defence. Up until 15 years old, I got to attack pretty freely. Playing defence became more important when I started to play in A-juniors a couple seasons ago.

26. On a scale from 1 to 10 how determined are you?

TT: Maybe 8, feels like an 8.

32. What kind of role are you planning to take with Jokerit next season?

TT: I think a pretty big one. I try to be a top player and not just take others' example but give others example myself too. So that someone in the team can take something out of the way I do things on the ice and off the ice.

35. If you could pick anyone, who would be your car driver?

TT: Nico Manelius for sure. He's been my driver this season. I've had others too, like Riku Hahl but he's not nearly at the same level. Nico’s clearly the best.

36. What are the most important qualifications to be a good driver?

TT: The car is obviously important. Hahl's car is totally awful, he takes a lot of heat for it from the guys too. I wouldn't dare driving with him. Manelius is a steady performer, never lets you down.

38. What sports did you play as a 10-year-old?

TT: Hockey and floorball, probably football (soccer) during the summers at the time too.

42. When did you decide to focus only on hockey?

TT: So when I stopped playing other sports? Three years ago, before that floorball was kind of a side thing, I played a couple of games in the regular season and playoffs.

45. Do you follow floorball or other sports? Go to games?

TT: I don't go to games but I like to watch floorball on TV, it's an interesting sport. Sometimes I watch football too but I don't follow it much. Feels like they never score there.

47. Have you ever played with a wooden stick?

TT: As a kid I did play with a wooden stick.

49. You won the hockey players' golf tournament last summer even though there were more experienced players too. Are you good with all stick games?

TT: Well, I've been pretty good in all of them. I've played golf for a long time and still play it.

50. How is your swing?

TT: Pretty bold, kind of a hockey swing. I don't really care where the ball goes - as long as it goes far.

52. What do you think of off-ice training?

TT: Let's just say it's more stupid than being on the ice but you still gotta do it to be better on the ice.

56. Which word describes your professional relationship (with his coach, Tomek Valtonen), tranquil or colorful?

TT: Colorful of course. At times we're joking around, other times it's more serious but the relationship is really good.

57. Coaching you has been described in many words: good, bad, worse. What are they?

TT: Heh, well... I won't tell them here. He (Tomek) keeps the discipline during practices but sometimes when things haven't gone to a plan I've had to jump on an exercise bike in the middle of a practice.

58. What have been the reasons?

TT: I'll quote Tomek: "when I haven't been present".

59. Have you ever tried to turn the resistance of the bike to zero?

TT: (Laughs) Of course I have and sometimes I've even succeeded.

60. Describe your diet in three words?

TT: Greasy, healthy and good!

64. Your first name is not common for people your age. How did your parents come up with it?

TT: I actually don't even know. Maybe they didn't want a usual Ville*....

(*very common name for men of all ages in Finland)

66. Which of these is the most important: skill, unexpectedness or courage?

TT: Skill!

68. Your longest video game stint?

TT: Six hours, at least. I've played a lot of War of Duty lately.

72. The dumbest thing that has made you upset in hockey?

TT: Probably if I didn't get an assist on a goal even though I should have. Or even worse is if I score and they mark it down for someone else.

79. Have you had any concussions?

TT: I haven't had any, I've managed to always dodge them.*

(*ouch, tho it's good the recent one is his only as far as i remember)

84. In 2011 Team Finland finished in the 5th place at the U-18 tournament. Why only as 5th?

TT: Because we lost to Team Russia in the quarter final, just as well we could have won that game too.

89. You didn't get to be on the ice to accept the SM-Liiga bronze medal (because of the U-18's). When and where did you get it?

TT: I actually still haven't received it, I don't know where it is.

93. What is the population of Helsinki?

TT: There's like 5 million people in Finland so maybe around 500k in Helsinki? (to be exact 596k) Did i really get it right...?

94. Who's the mayor of Helsinki?

TT: I don't know, I barely know the president.

95. Do you think the municipalities in the capital city area should merge?

TT: Luckily I don't have to decide but they probably shouldn't.

96. What do you check first in the news paper?

TT: The sports section.

97. Your favorite tv show?

TT: Putous* was pretty good, I liked a lot of the characters. The grandma was pretty good.

(*Finnish live improvisation comedy/sketch show (there are still new seasons, the latest just finished). Every actor comes up with a humor character with a catchy phrase and one of them wins. "The grandma" is Marja Tyrni and I just got such flashbacks from typing this sentence.)

98. Last book you read?

TT: I don't read many books. The last book was a study book, a Finnish book. I wrote an essay on Tiki (Esa) Tikkanen's biography. An eventful book, great career and a lot of chirps.

99. Who should we ask the 99 questions next?

TT: Riku Hahl could have good stories, he's also seen a lot of the world.

[hockeylvr59]

More than Morning Sickness || Matthew Tkachuk

Requested: [x] yes [ ] no

Yoooo I love your writing! Can I request a Matthew Tkachuk imagine where the reader is pregnant but she has severe morning sickness and Matty has Chantal and Taryn come and stay with her while she’s on the road so she doesn’t have to be alone because he wants so bad to stay and help her through it even though he knows he can’t 💕💕 I love your writing omg

Authors Note: So I had an idea for a twist on this request kind of based on current events so after running it by the requester I went ahead and made the changes to write it the way I wanted to. Enjoy!

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 1,670

~~~~~

Nausea. Vomiting. Headaches. Fatigue. 

You’d been staying with your boyfriend Matt and his family in quarantine for about two and a half months when those symptoms hit you like a truck, coming completely out of nowhere. You’d gone from messing around with Matt’s family in whatever sport they were attempting to barely being able to get out of bed. 

For a couple of days you were able to play them off as a minor bug or your body’s disagreement with something you had eaten. But when they didn’t go away, Matt’s family started asking questions. 

Taryn and Brady both suggested that Matt take you to the doctor. Keith didn’t seem to know what to suggest. Matt’s mom Chantal, however, disappeared to the store before returning with a bag full of items. As she pulled the items from the bag, gradually the eyes of her family grew wider. Saltine crackers, Gatorade, B6 vitamins, prenatal vitamins, and finally a pack of pregnancy tests. 

“Bro...you knocked her up!” Brady exclaimed. 

Keith mumbled something about quarantine babies under his breath while Matt just stood in the kitchen looking completely shell-shocked. 

__

When you stirred from your nap, you saw Matt sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. The moment he realized you were awake though, he shifted, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“How are you feeling?” He questioned softly, fingers gently pushing away strands of hair that had fallen in your face. 

“Little less tired.” You murmured. “Still have a bit of a headache and feel like I’m going to puke.” As always, Matt’s face was filled with worry, but you’d learned that lying to him did more harm than good. 

“Mom thinks you’re pregnant,” Matt whispered, moving to lay down beside you. “And she’s probably right.” He added. This time it was you that was shell-shocked, your stomach twisting as you thought about it. You and Matt certainly hadn’t been practicing abstinence...and there was that time out on the lakehouse dock where you had gotten a little careless. 

Matt pulled you from your thoughts with a gentle kiss to your lips and when he pulled back he sighed. 

“She bought a couple of tests, think we should maybe take them?” His fingers rubbed the skin of your hip gently, helping you remain somewhat grounded. 

“Yeah...okay.” You agreed. 

Five minutes later, Matt was holding your hair back while you once again vomited, the sound of your phone timer going off on the counter. After a moment, Matt stood and the sound of the faucet ran for about 30 seconds. Even still, you heard the clatter of plastic against the counter as Matt checked the tests and silenced your phone. Kneeling back beside you, Matt draped a cool rag over the back of your neck and his hand fell to your lower back. 

“This is all my fault,” He mumbled, words of apology spilling from his lips. You didn’t even need to hear the word ‘positive’ to tell you that was exactly what the tests had read. Resting your head on your arm you attempted to send Matt as much of a smile as you could. 

“Last I checked it takes two to tango Matty.” You admitted. “So unless you plan on up and leaving me you have nothing to be sorry for.” Matt didn’t pick up on your weak attempt at a joke and instead cursed, promising that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

___

Though Matt’s family ribbed the two of you hard for conceiving a quarantine baby, they were all super supportive, willing to get you whatever it was that you needed. While the vitamins Chantal had bought helped a little with the fatigue, they really didn’t do much to stop the constant nausea and vomiting. 

Two weeks after finding out you were pregnant, you were being diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum. The same day you got this diagnosis, the NHL announced further information about its return to play plan. You were upset knowing that Matt would be going into a bubble and would miss so much of the pregnancy but you knew it was his job and there was nothing you personally could do about it. Talking with Taryn and Chantal, you knew the best thing you could do was take the medication the doctor had given you, try to intake as many vitamins and nutrients as possible, and put the rest up to a higher power knowing that you were doing your best to take care of yourself and the little one growing inside you. 

Because you had decided that return to play wasn’t something you could control, it wasn’t something you ever talked about with Matt. Instead, you spent as much time as possible with him, watching from the outside sofa as he messed around with Brady in the backyard, cuddling him on the couch while a random movie or tv show played in the background. You talked about the things you’d need for the baby, who you hoped the baby would take after more and just other random things that had nothing to do with his impending departure. 

As the date for summer training camps approached, you found yourself packing Matty’s bags out of habit, tucking them off to the side of the room ready to go. Though you were feeling a little bit better since starting the medication, you still tired easily and you knew that the emotional strain was beginning to take its toll. You’d cried yourself into many a nap thinking about how much Matt was going to miss and how you were going to do this on your own. It was silly because you had Matt’s entire family at your beck and call and there was no doubt that you’d be taken care of, but it just wasn’t the same. Having your boyfriend’s family around would never be able to compare with having your boyfriend/baby daddy by your side. 

Matt was out with Brady and Taryn and you were lounging on the couch with Chantal when your phone rang. Caller ID showed that it was Noah’s girlfriend and while you hadn’t really spoken to any of the other wags recently you answered curious as to why she had reached out. Without even greeting you, she quickly spoke one sentence that sent your mind spinning. 

“Noah just told me Matt is opting out.” You froze, your eyes immediately filling with tears. “Y/N.” She repeated your name, but you barely registered it. 

“I’ll call you back.” You whispered, cutting the line before glancing over at Matt’s mom almost full-on sobbing. She looked at you with confusion on her face before moving over to your end of the couch wrapping her arms around you. 

“What’s wrong?” She murmured, her hand rubbing over your back. 

“Where’s Matt?” You hiccuped, trying desperately to calm yourself before you ended up sick once more. She murmured that she would call him and fifteen minutes later you felt Matt’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest as you continued to softly cry. 

“Sweetheart...what happened?” He questioned, thumb tucking under your chin to force you to look at him. 

“You’re opting out?” The words were barely audible, but it was clear Matt heard them when he let out a soft chuckle. 

“All of this is over that?” He breathed in disbelief. “Yeah, sweetheart. I opted out. My only priority is right here. You and our baby.” You couldn’t wrap your brain around that and just stared at him with wide eyes. His thumb brushed over your cheek as he stared at you, a look of fondness and worry in his eyes. “Did you really think I’d leave you?” He murmured. “I promised you I wouldn’t and I intend to keep that promise.” 

“But…” Every excuse you’d told yourself as to why Matt was certain to go rushed through your head but before you could voice them he was speaking once more. 

“But the cup can wait until next year..when I put our baby in it. But I don’t have to go and I can’t imagine missing all of this. But I know my family would take great care of you but that’s my job. There isn’t an excuse in the book that would justify me leaving you right now. So I’m not going to. This baby...while tiny...is so much bigger than hockey. You both are so much more important than hockey. Okay?” Matt finished, his forehead pressed against yours as you took in the weight of his words. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question slipped from your lips immediately and hearing it made Matt sigh. 

“I thought you knew.” He admitted. “I talked to Brades and dad, asked them what they’d do. I talked to my coaches and Gio and asked what they’d do and everyone supports me staying here. I didn’t think it was a secret that I was planning on staying.” You didn’t have anything to say to that and seeing how quiet you were Matt pecked your lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you directly. I didn’t mean to cause you stress over it.” 

Wrapping your arms tightly around Matt’s neck you buried your head against him, the weight you’d been carrying over him leaving suddenly disappearing. 

“Are we good?” Matt mumbled against your head, his hands dropping to cradle your hips. 

“I love you.” You breathed after nodding against him. 

“I love you too,” Matt replied. “I love both of you so much.” As he pulled away he kissed you softly, his smile growing. “Now how about some Italian ice? We brought some home from that place we had talked about.” 

Offering out your hand you let him pull you from the couch and as you tucked yourself against his side you couldn’t help but notice that for the first time, even momentarily, your nausea had vanished. Evidently the baby was just as happy about daddy sticking around as you were. 

[touyota]

Catfish

☁ Summary: Tomura is hopeless when it comes to relationships, and soon that’s all subject to change. With the power of Tinder, Touya and one oblivious chick on his side, who knows what can happen. 

A/N: omgggg, i’ve lurked on my priv for the past year and finally decided to stop being a narc and post something. i haven’t written in forever and it shows lmao, but uh yeah pls give me feedback if you’d like. (also idk if this has been. done before, but sorryyy if it has)

☁ Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

☁ Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, manipulation, dumbfication (if you squint), slapping, yandere, catfishing 

"Fuck I'm horny." 

Tomura groaned into his pillow, conflicted with whether he should be agitated or turned on. Due to his third nap of the day being interrupted by the excessive lewd noises coming from the shared living room. Tomura's roommate, Touya, had no real understanding of boundaries and was often more bothersome than helpful. Still, without his portion of the rent, he'd be on the streets struggling to find an apartment within his meager budget.

"Keep fucking me, Touya-san!" The plea echoed through the thin walls of the shoddy apartment. At least someone was getting laid. The last time Tomura had gotten lucky was at an impromptu Halloween party thrown by Touya at the apartment. 

He went as Jason Vorhees using a dingy hockey mask he found in Touya's closet. The poor girl in question, who came dressed as an angel, was drunk out of her mind. She clung to Tomura's scrawny body incoherently, slurring about "How hot it would be to fuck a murderer." The fling hadn't lasted long before the young lady in question toppled over the side of his bed and hurled her entire cup of jungle juice onto the floor. Poor Tomura had to spend his night nursing her head over the toilet. Making a mental note to tell Touya that he couldn't invite any freshmen to their parties ever again.

Tomura ended up seeing her again in passing on campus, giving a small smile as she walked by. Only to be met with an eye roll as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. Fucking bitch... Other than that, Tomura had found himself too busy writing code, playing video games, and browsing Reddit to dedicate any time to dating. The polar opposite of his roomie Touya-san, a communications major whose schedule consisted of dating? If you considered fucking the same chick for a week before ghosting her dating, sleeping, and eating and drinking Tomura out of a house and home.

"You ready for my load? You're my little cum dump, right? Say you're my cum du-"

Speaking of fucking, Tomura's hard-on was starting to hurt, and what better way to relieve himself than to beat off to the action in the adjacent room. 

He started to palm himself over his sweats, erection already beginning to poke through. Figuring that he's teased himself enough, he lowered his boxers, allowing his cock to slap against his stomach, throbbing and angry. He slowly stroked himself, gathering the pre-cum spouting from the tip, and used it to lube the rest of his cock.

"Pleaseee fuck! I'm your little cum dump! I swear Touya!" 

Tomura started to stroke his cock faster, leaving a squelching noise with each stroke. He was barely managing to suppress his moans. Knowing how Touya wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he got caught fucking his hand to the sounds of their subtle lovemaking. 

"Fuckfuckfuck... I'm cumming!" Touya grunted, giving out after his final stroke.

Tomura followed suit, flicking his wrist with each stroke. As his orgasm finally took hold of him, biting into his shirt to stifle his moan as he came all over his fist. 

"Are you fucking serious, Touya?"

"What?" 

"I didn't get to cum?"

"Um… I'm sure you can take care of that when you get home."

"You're such a piece of sh-"

Tomura tuned out the rest of his roommate's performance. Really hoping he'd wrap it up cause he really needed to take a piss and couldn't make it to the bathroom without passing through the living room. 

After hearing a respectable amount of silence, he figured it was safe to leave the room. Of course, he was wrong; he was met with a staredown between Touya and a petite blonde woman.

"I'm sure your roommate Tenko wouldn't leave a lady hanging like that."

"It's Tomura," he muttered.

"Same fucking thing, my point still stands," The mystery woman huffed. There was a pregnant pause before Touya doubled over in laughter, clutching his chest.

"You think this cuck knows how to take care of a lady? Yeah, it's time to go, Tara."

"It's Toga, you shit stai-"her statement was abruptly interrupted, the door slamming in her face. Touya's back slid down against the door as he sat facing Tomura. 

"Chicks? Am I right?" Touya sighed, peering over at Tomura, who had just left the bathroom. "Speaking of chicks, when's the last time you had sex, Shiggy?"

"It's been... a while." Tomura shrugged, not wanting to indulge his roommate with the details of his sex life.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's make you a Tinder." Touya proudly announced, excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker for his roommate. Tomura reluctantly gave in, knowing once Touya was set on something, it was bound to happen one way or another. 

Two blunts later, Tomura and Touya were strewn over the couch, mulling over his profile's final details. It consisted of three pics, one from the Halloween party, another from their most recent function. The last pic is a selfie of him in a black hoodie with sunglasses on. The icing on top is the bio that unironically stated, "Freak in the sheets, gamer in the streets."

"You're gonna be a real pussy magnet shiggy. Just wait, you'll have to fight the chicks off with a stick after they see this." Touya chuckled as he took another puff of the blunt.

"Go to hell and stop hogging; you didn't put shit in on this anyways," Tomura muttered as he snatched the blunt away to take a pull. Maybe he would find some success, he entertained the concept of having a consistent fuck buddy, but sometimes he was lonely and just wanted someone to lay up with. He wanted to be optimistic about something for once, taking his final pull and ashing the blunt out. The smoky haze and intoxicating scent lulling him to sleep. 

Fuck optimism, Tomura thought. It had been three days with zero matches or messages, and he was starting to think there had to be a glitch in the system. The only time he had seen a match is when he accidentally swiped on Midnight's profile, a famous Only fans content creator who specialized in BDSM. The same Midnight that he happened to be a top donor for and occasionally bought panties from, but that's beside the point. The profile was poorly made with blurry, uncropped pics taken straight from her social media profiles. The lack of detail and legitimacy was apparent. Tomura felt terrible for the poor soul who probably fell for it, but it made him think… 

Why not see how different the response would be if he ran a profile under someone else's guise.  Someone more attractive, someone more affluent, and someone more famous. This was simply a social experiment; no harm would come from it of course. He would simply ghost anyone who wanted to meet, keeping all interactions virtual. Now who could he possibly pretend to be. without getting caught. Tomura's eyes finally settled on an Axe ad playing on tv featuring male model Keigo Takami. Mr. tall, blonde, and handsome would definitely attract the feminine masses.  

Ding ding ding, it was like a bell went off in his head; he had found his new look. He started to scour the internet for any pictures of Hawks that weren't already posted to his socials and be sure to crop any evidence out. A few hours later, Tomura gazed over his final product. He thought it seemed too good to be true; he was sure that anyone with a working brain would know the profile was clearly a catfish. It was too clean, too pristine, and too perfect, but Tomura was tired of the profile's nit-picking details and saved his last changes. It was starting to get dark, and he had to begin his Comp Sci homework soon so he'd have time to play zombies on Call of Duty later. 

Tomura woke to a multitude of buzzes notifying him of the several hundred matches he'd accumulated overnight on his Hawks profile. Apparently, no one had a working brain within the 15-mile radius. The messages were filled with tons of chicks he had seen on campus or in class. He even recognized the one from the Halloween party. He spent his morning smoke break, siphoning through the various contenders.

Too tall.

Too blonde.

Too ugly. 

Until...

He finally stopped scrolling when he reached your profile; he had seen you before in his Major classes. You were a somewhat modest girl, always working to be an overachiever and teacher's pet. You hadn't spoken to him before, only forcing a smile when Tomura was caught staring at you in class. You were talented, beautiful, quiet, and you hadn't encountered Touya yet. You were everything he had wanted, and more. He started to type a message awaiting your response.

Keigo: "What's keeping you up this late, love ;)" 

Tomura thought to keep it casual enough to fit his suave persona.

Y/N: "lol, just sum late night studying keeping me up."

Y/N: "won't lie im very nervous to texting you rn, i'm a big fan 

Keigo: "it's gud knowing i have fans as cute as you ;p"

The conversation seemed to flow from there between you two, texting for almost two weeks strong. Tomura had learned so much about you in a short time, your favorite foods, your favorite color, favorite music, and your dislikes as well. Touya often came by his room to check in on Operation: Get Shiggy Some Pussy, only to be met with a "Fuck off," and yet another door slammed in his face. 

You gushed over how lucky you were to be texting the one and only Keigo Takami. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but what kind of fucked up person would take the time to pretend to be another person? The conversation between you two was great and always kept you on your toes. Still, sometimes days would pass before you received a response; you chalked it to the fact that he was always busy as a celebrity and didn't always have time to respond to you. 

You were currently lying in bed and unable to fall asleep; you peered at your phone to see that it was 2:05 am. You let out a sigh, preparing to stare at your ceiling until you finally fell asleep, only to be interrupted by a chime from your phone. It was a message from Keigo. 

Keigo: you up? ;(

You instantly typed a response, scared that you had done something wrong.

Y/N: yup, what's wrong…?

Keigo: i'm so fucking hard rn baby ;(((

Oh shit, you hadn't prepared yourself for that response; maybe he injured himself at work or-

Keigo: you still there babe? send a pic ;p

You definitely hadn't prepared for that, but who were you to deny him. Keigo could've asked anyone else in the world, but he asked you. Not wanting to leave him waiting, you quickly shucked your shirt off and used your arm to push up your breasts, giving an illusion of the perfect push up bra. You promptly took several pics, taking the time to edit and select the ideal filters to complement your skin tone.

Y/N: 1 image sent

A bubble indicating him typing popped up instantly 

Keigo: 3 images sent

Keigo: fuckkkk babe, ur such a tease

You opened the pics, feeling your panties dampen slightly. It was a cock, well Keigo's cock, fat and engorged, leaking pre-cum against his toned belly. He was mostly well-groomed, but a prominent white tuft of hair appears in the picture, making you wonder if Keigo was actually a natural blonde.

Keigo: 1 video sent

 let me see that pretty pussy baby, 

It was a video of Keigo languidly stroking his cock, how romantic. It was only right for a gorgeous man like Keigo to have a pretty cock to match. What he lacked in girth was definitely made up for in length, complemented with a slight curve that could definitely reach that itch that none of your toys could scratch.  By now, you had ditched your panties and started to slowly start to fuck yourself open with one finger at a time. You started recording and angled the phone against your pillow, trying to capture you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, letting out a small whimper with each thrust.

Y/N: 1 video sent 

You began to fuck yourself vigorously, dragging the accumulated slick over your clit with slow, circular strokes. You felt your orgasm on the brink, growing more restless and desperate, humping reverently at your fingers, whimpering desperately; you were so close...There was a sudden surge of fluid from your core, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth as you kept carefully fucked yourself through your climax. The post-orgasm bliss lulling you to sleep, your eyes had finally fluttered shut, only to be awakened by another chime. 

Keigo: 1 image sent 

look @ all that cum baby, its all for you ;)

Y/N: when can we meet? my fingers can only work for so long :p

Read: 2:53 am

Aw man, maybe he fell asleep. You were definitely fighting sleep at this point as well, finally closing your eyes, satisfied for the night. 

Tomura struggled to catch his breath, reaching for his discarded shirt to wipe the sticky cum off of his stomach. That was the third time this month you'd ask about a meeting, and it was frankly starting to piss him off. He'd have to come up with something fast if he wanted to keep you around. Even though he didn't have much of a moral compass left in his body, the feeling of guilt was hard to ignore. You didn't deserve to be roped into his fucked up social experiment… 

A yawn interrupted Tomura's guilty thoughts. He could continue to feel guilty when he wakes up tomorrow.

 The following week your prayers had been answered, Keigo finally agreed to meet! It had been such a bittersweet feeling. What if he thought you looked nothing like your profile pictures? Would he reject you and run the other way, screaming? You tried to push your doubtful feelings down by distracting yourself with running errands. Finding the perfect outfit to wear, getting every inch of your body waxed, and picking up a lacy red lingerie set. 

Upon getting back to your apartment, you found a red bouquet of roses on the doormat. They were clearly store-bought and not of excellent quality… but it's the thought that counts! 

Lots of celebrities were frugal, and of course, Keigo was no different. After further inspection, a small white card with an address and time. You searched the address finding a mid-grade hotel on the outskirts of the city. Keigo was definitely a (cheap) frugal man dedicated to his discretion. Soon realizing that the time on the card was approaching, you quickly ran to shower and primp yourself for the evening. Not even thinking to question how he found your address in the first place...

You had finally arrived at the sketchy hotel, noting that there were little to no cars in the parking lot and noting that none of them looked like they belonged to Keigo. You wandered through the lobby until you finally reached the elevator, tapping the button for the 5th floor. You tried to shake off your pre-meeting jitters, you already knew everything would be fine, but you couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong...

Those intrusive thoughts were soon interrupted by the chime that indicated you had reached your floor. You took a deep breath as you stepped off the elevator, pacing yourself as you walked to your destination. 

Room 555 

How fitting, you thought. Your knuckles rasped against the door several times.

"Come in." A voice sounded through the door.

You peeked your head around the door before taking a step in the room, not being able to locate the owner of the voice. You gasped after taking the appearance of the room. The room had rose petals haphazardly strewn across the floor. Candles flickered on the dresser, a bubble bath was run in the bathroom, and to top it off, a too cheap bottle of champagne on ice. 

There was clearly an effort made, which made your heart swoon, hoping to put a real face to the man you've been speaking to for the past few months, you said out into the empty room.

"Keigo, I like what you've done with the place. You can come out now," you giggled.

"I'm glad you got the flowers," a raspy voice responded.

.......Huh?

Your joy instantly crushed, having heard Keigo's voice multiple times in the interviews you've seen, it sounded nothing like that. Unless he'd suddenly started chain-smoking within the past few months. A loud alarm started going off in your head. It was definitely time to go.

You twirled on your heels and reached for the doorknob, only to be stopped by a hand gripping your upper arm.

"Leaving so soon? The bathwater is still warm…" The mystery voice informed.

"Oh… I think I have the wrong room, so sorry about that." You squeaked, attempting to reach the door again only to be dragged into a bony chest. 

Your chin was tilted, forcing you to meet eyes with "Keigo." Who was actually a porcelain-skinned tower of a man with shaggy white hair that had an oddly familiar look to him? 

"Let me go! You're not Keigo!" You screamed, hoping to alert any other guests on the floor.

"Fucking took you long enough. I thought you were smarter than those other bitches on campus. Tomura balked, struggling to keep you still in his grasp.

Campus. That's where you recognized the face and voice of your captor, you were both in the same Comp Sci class, and you'd often caught him staring as you worked, chalking it up to you having something on your face or in your teeth. The realization caused tears to spurt from your eyes.

"Poor baby, didn't mommy and daddy teach you to not speak to strangers on the internet?"

"I-I thought y-you were K-Keigo," you gasped, struggling to control your sobs. 

"Well, I'm not. Get over it." Tomura slurred, placing sloppy kisses over your collar bone, slowly backing you towards the bed. 

You couldn't bring yourself to move or fight anymore, body stiff with fear. Your sobs increase in volume after feeling your legs make contact with the edge of the bed. You didn't know this man from a can of paint, and here he is about to assault you. 

"Stop crying before I leak those sexy little videos you shared with "Keigo." Imagine if everyone in the class knew how much of an easy slut you are?" Tomura hissed, shoving you unto the stiff mattress, springs squeaking as you bounced. 

You cradled your mouth, struggling to stifle your sobs. Why hadn't you recognized the signs sooner? You spent so much time looking at the situation through rose-colored lenses that you had utterly neglected your safety. But it wasn't the time to feign sympathy for yourself. You needed to take action, and soon—the shaggy haired stranger dragging your motionless body towards the end of the headboard. 

"Wait!" You gasped, hoping that you could possibly reason with your captor.

"What's your name? 

This was your final chance to escape. You suddenly kicked forward, aiming for his face, failing miserably as it was blocked. Both legs were then shoved into a mating press, granting Tomura the space to press himself even closer to you.

A groan left Tomura's mouth, frotting against your clothed mound, smothering your neck with sloppy saliva drenched kisses. You cowered at the feeling, curling away from his advances. The dry humping continued until a final groan of desperation was released. He was too grown for this shit and didn't feel like going home with stained boxers when your sweet heat was right in front of him.

The red bodycon dress you decided on was shredded down the middle, leaving you in your lingerie set. You added that to the list of things you were already regretting, moving to cover yourself the best you could. Your efforts to preserve the crumb of modesty you had left were futile, both hands knocked out of the way.

"You don't have to hide princess, I think Christmas came early.” “You're wrapped so pretty, baby." He chuckled, moving to fondle your breasts. Taking the time to pinch and pull at both nipples, drawing small hesitant gasps. 

"I'll play with these more later. You don't know how long I've waited to play with that cute little pussy in person." You felt your panties tugged to the side, embarrassed with the amount of arousal accumulated below. The feeling was soon replaced with horror after feeling the tip of his cock dragged between your slit.

Tomura used the residual slick to grease his cock, bypassing the need to stretch you out. He pressed forward, forcing himself inside, pausing to catch his breath. Damn... it's been a long time. 

You yelped in pain, closing your eyes in hopes of blocking out the situation at hand. You felt him start to pick up his pace, causing small tinges of pain to course through your body. 

"Mmmm, open your eyes. I want you to watch me fuck you." He gasped, realizing you hadn't complied yet, he landed a firm slap on your cheek. "Not only are you dumb, but you're also deaf too… open. SMACK your. SMACK fucking. SMACK eyes." 

Your eyes shot open, brimming with tears, finding yourself face to face with your captor. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, dainty white lashes framing the lids, traces of dry patches on his face. He wasn't ugly. You'd honestly give him a chance if he asked you out like a decent human being.

His pace had gained traction, hips crashing against yours. You found yourself slowly succumbing to the pleasure, discreetly fucking yourself against him. You wanted to protest and resist against him, but with your inhibitions lowered, you found it hard to comply. Each thrust pulling you further into the abyss that was your impending orgasm. Your lust-filled thoughts being interrupted by the stranger's incoherent mumbling.

"Tomura."

"Huh?" you whimpered, not fully understanding what he said. 

"My name is Tomura."

"Okay and mine i-"

"Shut up and say my name." Tomura's thrusts were sporadic, signaling his impending climax. "Beg me to cum…... please." 

You barely registered the final demand, not recognizing the soft tone of his voice.

"T-tomura, p-please let me cum!" you begged, right on edge needing something, anything to push you over.

Two nimble, callused fingers drew delicate circles over your clit, forcing you to writhe and sob as your orgasm coursed through your body. The feeling that followed was one of warmth as Tomura came, slowing his thrusts until he collapsed, encasing you in his arms.

Your eyes fluttered shut with your post-orgasm haze lulling you to sleep until a wet, sticky substance trickled along your inner thigh... 

What the fuck....

You nearly launched yourself from the bed, fighting to separate yourself from your captor's arms.  

"What is wrong with you?"

"You didn't use a condom," you wailed, tears perched at the corner of your eyes. You didn't have the time for a child, you were doing great in classes, your parents would reject you, you'd be stuck playing house with some stranger and-

"Stop muttering. You're fucking up my nap. I'll buy a Plan B when I wake up." Tomura mumbled into the pillow, dragging you back into his chest.

You continued to fight his grasp, pausing after feeling a firm pinch to your side. Fighting was futile at this point, and you couldn't fully assess the situation until you had some decent sleep. 

Closing your eyes for a few seconds wouldn't hurt…right?

[albertasunrise]

Coffee and Crisis - Chapter 1

So this is my first Mentalist Fanfiction with Marcus Pike. I loved the Mentalist and only recently realised that it was our dear Pedro that played the perfect Pike. 

Summary: Marcus has been pretty unlucky in love. With a failed Marriage and engagement under his belt, will his luck finally change when he meets a pretty, young English girl in his favourite cafe?

Warning/Content: Angst, Blood and Injury, 

Paring: Marcus Pike/ Original Female Character

§

It was a chilly day in September. The trees were almost bare of their leaves. Branches waving in the city breeze, sounds of wood knocking together joined the cacophony of city sounds. Marcus scrubbed a hand over his face as he approached the cafe that had become a staple in his morning routine, always stopping for a coffee and a muffin without fail before heading into the office across the street. This morning was no different except for one tiny detail. Her. His eyes locked with her's almost as soon as he pushed open the door, the small bell above jingling as the wood knocked against it. She was stood in line, eyes staring off towards the door as she waited to be served. He was instantly struck by her, giving her a smile as he pushed the door closed behind him and stepped towards her. She had dirty blonde hair that that was wavy and thick, sitting a little below her shoulders and framing her oval face. Her eyes were a seductive shade of green, accentuated my neat black eyeliner that flicked out at the edges and a subtle brown eye shadow on her lids. Her clothes told him the most about her. She was wearing a Retro Print Star Wars t-shirt that was tucked into her pale Levi jeans that were folded up at the ankles and a black, wool-lined denim jacket. He was instantly drawn to her. She wasn’t like the other women he saw here on a daily basis, tight work dresses, perfect hair and makeup with ridiculous heels that they couldn’t walk in. Not this girl, in her white converses and geeky, acid-wash t-shirt. Her eyes watched him as he came to a standstill behind her, glances and smiles being all they shared for a few moments as Marcus plucked up the courage to speak to her.

‘I like your shirt.’ He said finally, motioning to it with his chin.

‘Thanks.’ she replied, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear as she gave him a warm smile.

‘I’ve not seen you here before.’ He stated, quickly glancing at the muffins to make his selection before returning his attention to her.

‘I’ve just moved here.’ She replied.

‘You’re English!’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Yeah.’ She giggled, trapping her lip between her teeth ‘Well I’m half English.’ She continued ‘Mum’s English, Dad's Canadian so basically, I’m cursed to be too nice and apologise for everything.’

He laughed at her reply, his smile reaching his eyes as they held each other's gaze for a while. It was only broken when the Barista asked for her order. Latte and a Lemon and Poppyseed Muffin. She knew exactly what coffee Marcus wanted, asking his muffin selection for the day before getting to work making their orders.

‘So are you a Star Wars fan or did you just like the shirt?’ He joked.

‘Oh no, I love it.’ She replied, laughing nervously ‘I’m a huge geek.’

‘I’ll let you in on a secret.’ He said quietly, leaning towards her slightly as she looked at him with anticipation ‘So am I.’

She laughed at that, covering her mouth in embarrassment at her sudden outburst. Her laugh was like music to Marcus’ ears, her smile addictive and he found himself wanting to see it more, hear it more. The sound of paper cups scraping against the stone countertop then pulled their attention away from each other.

‘That's Seven dollars.’ said the Barista.

‘It’s on me.’ said Marcus suddenly, handing her the money for both orders.

‘You didn’t have to do that.’ she replied as she looked at him with surprise.

‘Call it a welcoming gift.’ he stated, giving her a genuine smile before holding the door open for her.

They came to a stop outside, Marcus holding out his free hand ‘I’m Marcus.’ He said, smiling as she took it and gave it a shake.

‘Ada.’ she replied.

‘Nice to meet you, Ada.’ Smiling he glanced across the street towards his offices ‘I better get going,’ he continued.

‘Uh yeah, same.’ she replied, her smile dropping slightly at the thought of them parting ways ‘Best not be late on my first day.’

So they parted ways, giving each other a small wave before Marcus sprinted across the street and disappeared through the tinted black glass doors. From that day on, he saw her every morning. She would wait for him and they would queue together, taking it in turns to buy each other's coffee’s whilst they talked about movies, books and art. Marcus learned that she’d studied it at college back in the UK but had decided against pursuing a career in it. He learned that she was a personal assistant but that she worked remotely from her apartment around the corner. She had been engaged to a guy she’d met in college. They’d been together for almost 7 years when she was offered the job in the US and he’d told her that he didn’t want to move with her. So they had ended things, her moving a few weeks later.

‘So have you spoken to him since you arrived?’ he quizzed, sipping his coffee.

‘I spoke to him a few days ago.’ she replied, taking a bite out of her muffin ‘He’s been dating.’

‘Ouch.’

‘No, I’m happy for him.’ She replied, her tone surprisingly genuine ‘He’s never done the dating thing really. Just sort of fell into relationships… Hell, he was single 3 days before we got together.’

‘What about you?’

‘Me?’

‘Are you dating?’ He asked, his question making her choke on the coffee she’d just sipped.

‘No. Wouldn’t know where to start.’ She replied, taking another bite of her muffin and shifting in her seat.

They'd both agreed to meet in the cafe earlier that day, sit down and have breakfast for once.

‘I attract odd people.’ She continued, sipping her coffee.

‘Odd how?’

‘Well, I’m a girl… who’s a geek.’

‘Ahhh.’ He replied, understanding exactly what she meant.

‘You’re the first guy I’ve met that has been normal.’ she replied, her cheeks flushing a little ‘I don’t meet many people working from the office in my apartment either.’

‘I imagine not.’ he chuckled, giving her his signature smile that made her knees go weak.

‘Well, Marcus.’ She started, standing and throwing her coat over shoulders ‘This had been lovely but I need to get to work. Those meetings aren't going to arrange themselves.’

‘Yeah… Right.’ Replied the agent as he stood suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he knocked it back.

‘I guess I’ll see you Monday.’ she replied, giving him a small smile.

‘Well unless you’re free tonight?’ he suggested, his brown eyes ever hopeful.

‘I’m free.’ she replied, pulling her bag over her shoulder ‘What were you thinking?’

‘Dinner?’ he shrugged, giving her a small smile ‘Take you on your first date in the US.’

‘I’d like that.’ She replied, her heart racing.

‘Great! I’ll pick you up at 7?’

‘Perfect.’

He was there at seven on the dot. Ada had spent much of the afternoon panicking about what to wear, knowing that it was a date but not wanting to overdo it. She’d fallen pretty hard for Marcus, the man invading her dreams and leaving her flushed when she woke up. She looked forward to their morning talks, missing them when he was away and over the weekends. When he’d asked her out, she’d almost passed out from the excitement but somehow managed to keep her cool. As soon as her day had ended she tried to figure out what to wear, realising that she had brought very little with her. She pulled a black lace skater dress her friend Liv had given her just before she’d moved. She wore it with some grey heels and minimal jewellery. She did smokey eye makeup and a subtle pink lip stain, her hair in a loose bun with a few loose waves hanging down to frame her face. When three soft knocks sounded on her door she felt her heart in her throat, hands shaking as she grabbed her bag and keys before opening her front door. She felt her nerves melt away when she saw him. He was wearing smart jeans with a Burgundy shirt tucked in and a smart leather jacket that fit him perfectly. He beamed at her as he checked her out, feeling his own heart flutter in his chest at the sight of her.

‘You look beautiful.’ He stated, watching her as she stepped out and locked her door behind her.

‘Don’t look bad yourself.’ She replied, winking at him as they made their way down to his car.

The restaurant wasn’t far from hers and after a fair amount of convincing on her part they ended up walking instead, arms linked as they talked about each other's days.

‘Here we are.’ he stated as Ada looked up at the sign and laughed.

‘A Canadian restaurant?’

‘You told me that you were half Canadian.’ He started, smiling sweetly at her ‘A colleague of mine told me about this place the other day at work and I knew I wanted to bring you here. Is this okay?’

‘This is perfect.’ She chuckled as he opened the door for her.

The inside reminded her of Christmas’ with her grandparents in Canada. The walls we clad with wood and decorated with hockey jerseys, pictures, sticks and pucks. It was the cheesiest place she’d seen in years and she loved it.

‘I feel a tad overdressed.’ She stated, looking around at the other people in there.

‘’You look perfect.’ He replied sweetly, grinning when she got all shy.

They ordered their food which, true to Canada, was oversized and terribly unhealthy. The conversation was easy, new subjects easy to find when old ones were exhausted.

‘So you know all about my dating history.’ she said suddenly ‘I bet someone like you has had women throwing themselves at you.’ She finished as she shovelled some waffle into her mouth.

‘Hah!’ He laughed as he took a swig of his beer ‘Well… I’m divorced.’ he started, smirking when Ada’s eyes went wide ‘We were young, foolish. She cheated on me with my first partner at the FBI.’

‘What a bitch.’

‘Yeah…’ he replied, shrugging as he took another sip of his drink ‘And then last year I met an incredible woman, Teresa and fell head over heels for her. We got engaged but later that day she told me that she was in love with someone else.’

‘Oh my god, Marcus I’m so sorry.’ Ada felt a pang of guilt at the man's story ‘I shouldn’t have asked… I’m sorry.’

‘Wow you really are Canadian aren’t you.’ He smirked, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

‘Shut up.’ she laughed, swatting his arm before returning to her waffles.

As they walked home, their hands kept grazing each other’s until he trapped her hand with his. They took their time walking back, hands swinging as they enjoyed the sounds of the city together. When they finally came to a stop outside her building she spun on her heels to face him, biting her bottom lip as she gazed up into his eyes.

‘Can I confess something to you?’ She asked, her eyes drifting down to their hands ‘This is the first proper date I’ve ever been on.’

‘What?’ His head shot back in surprise ‘Really?’

‘I never did the dating thing. I kinda met people and we just ended up together.’ She replied, looking away in embarrassment.

‘So how was your first date then?’ He asked, pulling her a little closer.

‘It was pretty good.’ She replied, green eyes sparkling up at him.

‘Only pretty good?’ he asked, giving her a devilish grin ‘What would it take to make it perfect?’

‘Hmmm.’ She pondered for a moment, a cheeky grin crossing her face as she stepped closer again, her chest flush against his ‘Perhaps a goodnight kiss.’

‘Oh really?’ he grinned as he laced his fingers around the back of her head.

‘Mhmm.’ she nodded, licking her lips in anticipation as he pulled her in.

He pressed his soft lips against hers, his left hand cupping her cheek and his thumb stroking her high cheekbone. She opened her mouth to deepen it, their tongues dancing together as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. She moaned against his lips as she felt a heat forming in her core, lacing her fingers through his hair as their kiss became more heated.

‘Did you want to come up?’

‘I’d love to.’ He replied, pulling away so that he could look her in the eye.

‘But...‘

‘But this is only our first date.’ He replied, pinching her chin with his thumb and pointer finger as he kissed her again ‘Let me do this properly. No jumping into things.’

‘Are you sure you’re not Canadian?’ She joked, grinning as he kissed her again.

‘Goodnight Ada.’ He replied, giving her one last peck on the lips before watching her walk away.

They spent most of that weekend texting like teenagers. They text about what they were doing, what they were reading. They even ended up watching Empire Strikes back and talked on the phone to each other during. They then continued to talk to each other as they lay in their beds, talking about their schedules for the week and possible plans for the weekend. When they finally said goodnight they agreed to have breakfast together in their favourite little cafe in the morning. Once again the day started as it always did. They stood in line together, ordered their coffees and muffins and sat at their usual table beside the counter. The conversation, as always, was easy and relaxed. They joked about how lame they were talking on the phone in bed like two smitten teenagers. Secretly though, neither of them had wanted to hang up. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of sirens, screaming and shouting suddenly erupted in the morning air and the door of the cafe crashed open. Two masked guys came screaming in, guns waving above their heads and sending everyone into a frenzy.

‘Everyone get down!’ they shouted, pointing their guns at the customers who were crouching with their hands above their heads.

Marcus instantly switched into FBI agent mode, his right hand wrapping around his gun as looked at Ada beside him.

‘Stay down.’ he whispered as he squeezed her arm and started to stand.

‘Hey, Jackass I told everyone to get down.’ Shouted one of the men, waving his gun at him as he spoke.

‘Let these people go.’ he said, taking a step towards them.

‘Who is this guy?’

‘Dunno but he’s clearly got a death wish.’ One sniggered,

‘I’m Agent Pike.’ He started, hand still wrapped around his gun ‘I work for the FBI. If you let them go I can help you come to a peaceful solution.’

‘FBI huh?’ the leader replied, tilting his head to the side as he studied the agent across from him ‘Well you’ll be useful.’ He stated, pulling the trigger and sending Marcus stumbling backwards

‘NO!’ Ada screamed as she threw herself to his side, catching him as his legs gave out beneath him ‘Marcus…. Marcus look at me.’ she pleaded, shaking him as his eyes darted around the room in shock.

The agent rolled his head to look at her, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to suck in a pained breath. He could feel his shirt soaking quickly with the crimson lifeblood that gushed from the bullet wound to his abdomen. Ada’s shaking hands desperately tried to keep pressure on it as she held him in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. She leaned him against the counter and tore her cardigan from her shoulder, pressing it down hard on Marcus’ stomach which elicited a pained moan from the agent.

‘Well I’m sure this isn’t how you saw breakfast going.’ he joked, placing a shaky hand on hers.

‘Not exactly no.’ She replied, smiling at him grimly as she watched her cream cardigan slowly turn red.

The phone to the cafe rang and the leader answered, screaming his demands to the police on the other end.

‘You will give us what we want or the Federal Agent that’s currently bleeding out on the floor isn’t going to make it.’ he growled, shooting a look at Pike ‘You give us what we want or Agent Pike will die… You have one hour.’ he finished, slamming the handset down on the counter and storming off.

Time seemed to crawl by. Ada watched the minutes ticked by, willing time to go faster as she felt Marcus slipping away from her. Half an hour passed and his skin tone had taken on a sickly grey shade, dark bags forming under his eyes as each breath came in short, laboured pants. She watched as his eyes start to droop, panic rising inside her as his head dipped.

‘Stay with me.’ she pleaded, lifting his head so that she could look him in the eye ‘You need to stay awake.’

‘Talk to me.’ he asked, leaning into her touch.

‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘’Will you go on another date with me?’ he asked suddenly, taking Ada by surprise.

‘What?’

‘I want to take you out on another date.’ he stated, giving her a weak smile.

‘Of course, I’ll go on another date with you Marcus.’ She sobbed, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

‘G-good.’ he stuttered, feeling his strength start to seep away.

‘And then afterwards I want you to stay with me.’ She continued, desperately trying to keep him with her a little longer ‘I’ll make you pancakes in the morning, I have a posh coffee machine that makes amazing coffee. Then we’ll spend all day watching old movies, eating junk food and making out.’

‘Sound’s good.’ He replied, smirking at her weakly.

Ada watched as he started to lose the fight, his lips taking on a startling shade of blue as breathing got harder and harder. A sudden cough painted his lips with blood splatters and her stomach sank. She knew the longer they waited, the less time Marcus had left. Grabbing a napkin from the counter above, she wiped the blood from his lips before placing a soft kiss on them. Marcus felt his heart flutter at the feeling of her soft lips on his, kissing her back before everything went black.

~§~

Chapter 2

[achliegh]

Bronze

Alright, I had this wonderful idea come into my head about Clayton, honestly he deserves his own fic. So here is his version of events! Lots will tie together with Golden so I recommend you read that as well. But you don’t have to of course.

Explaining:

Before Letter is the present.

Letter is updating the lives of the people back home, of whoever wrote it mostly.

After Letter is memory.

The first few letters will be very awkward because writing letters and not being sure what to talk about and what not to talk about is hard and confusing. Stick with me! Yes, this prologue is just a letter.

TW/CW: Discussions of death, miliatry training, smut, cringy jokes, underage drinking, dumb choices, swearing, and more later on.

Beta: @walking-crisis

Some Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Chapter 1:

Riding With Private Malone

Oath

Boot Scootin Boogie ( Line Dance )

Clayton read the letter over and over with a sad smile, he didn’t want to leave but he also felt like he needed a purpose in life. Sitting around while your lovers are successful isn’t what he pictured for himself. He recently found out that both his birth-parents were in the military and felt like he should follow in their footsteps.

A lot of people he was close to didn’t agree with this. Especially Leo, he was devastated. Probably the angriest Clay has ever seen him besides from when the Sheriff or his family would mention Wyatt.

This was something Clayton had to do. He didn’t know what branch his birth-parents were in so he went with the one that he thought he would enjoy most, the Navy. To be exact, Navy Seal but he has to pass training first. Which he did with flying colours making him on the younger side of the teams. But he felt unstoppable, but he missed his friends and family so much it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He also gave his lovers code names because he was worried what might happen if someone found out he was in a poly relationship that isn’t straight.

He didn’t think people would take too well to it.

He was sitting at the dinky table set up in their tent, they were on a special assignment, he had a piece of paper and a pencil that he found under the cots. He started writing back when his superior officer of their team came in. He was friendly and a good guy but a little aggressive at times. Great leader for the US military.

“Whatcha writing Stinky?” He walks over to take a peek at Clay's letter humming a song that constantly plays on their old satellite radio, Riding With Private Malone, and frowns. “Clay.” He rests his hand on Clay's shoulder making him look up. “You can’t write them back, they can’t know where we are or what we are doing.”

Clay lays down his pencil and stares at his letter.

“How will they know I’m alive?”

Deer Bestie,

I’m only writing to you because it feels right, Oath came on, remember that song? The one we would sing to each other every time it came on. It was the stupidest song but it always reminds me of middle school when we sang it in front of the school at the talent show. Stupid but worth it.

I’m still not over how you just got up and left after everything happened. It was two weeks after the worst week of my life and you just left. Gone.

You didn’t even have the thought in your head to tell me when you first signed up! You waited until the week before you left to tell me because you knew I would try to convince you not to go. You fucking idiot! I don’t think I will ever forgive you for this.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. I miss you so much.

Logan and Finn are amazing and doing all they can to make sure I’m okay. I love them, but it isn’t the same. They don’t know me as well as you and I just miss my brother.

No one has heard from you and I swear if you end up being dead I will never forgive you. I will be so fucking pissed I will meet you in hell and beat you up.

Come home Clay, please come back safe.

Love,

Leo

P.S.

You're a dickhead.

Pushing the doors open with vigor Clay and Leo strutted into their bar like they owned the place. Seeing new faces around the bullpen, Leo and him shared a knowing look and hopped the fence as a man with glasses got thrown from the bull again. Clay helped him up as Leo went over to the control board where a strikingly handsome man stood next to him. All broad shoulders and deep-toned skin. But Clay had a girlfriend so he didn’t look as long as he wished he could. Instead cracking jokes with this character in front of him.

He looked around at all the new faces, they all were attractive well-built men, he guessed professional athletes but all the logos he saw on shirts and hats. His eyes landed on two men who seemed very very close, passing a cheap cig back and forth while talking to Jimmy, the auctioneer that worked for Clay's dad. When he locked eyes with the shorter man with green eyes he knew right away.

Leo was going home with them.

Leo whistled at him as the other man walked off and Leo hopped on the machine. Saying goodbye to James, at least he thinks that's the name he told him, and walking over to the control board with Leo’s settings. He pressed the start key as the crowd sang with the song that was playing.

He cheered Leo on as he was thrashed around, catching the two guys who he spotted earlier just drinking Leo in. Lucky. It wasn’t that Clay didn’t like his girlfriend, it was just, she didn’t satisfy him in the ways he wanted. It was always about her so clay would have mediocre sex, sometimes good depending on how mad she was at him.

He had told her that he likes to be… more submissive in bed. She would make fun of him for this and while Clay enjoys being degraded he doesn’t enjoy it when it's because she thinks of him as less than a man. It really bothers him but she doesn’t care.

Later that night Boot Scootin Boogie comes on and Leo drags him to the dance floor after they had a few drinks, dancing in time with everyone else. Leo turns to him and sing with the song

“I want a shot of that redhead yonder lookin at me.” He winks at said redhead and notices the look he gets from both men. Clay smiles and laughs, shoving Leo playfully to get back in line. They dance until the song ends and wander back over to their drinks and sit as the next song starts up.

A couple songs later and Leo is waving goodbye as the two drag him out of the bar by his belt loop., Clay lifts his drink as a salute to him and drinks it in one go. He stands up and stretches, now that Leo is gone he should probably go or else Ashley will find out and give him hell for it.

“Hey yeehaw, come here!” Clay looks around and then points at himself in a questioning way when he sees who was yelling. James. Nodding James beckons him over and pats the seat between him and the man from earlier . “Your friend just stole two of our teammates!”

“From the looks of it, it seems your teammates stole my buddy.” He smiles when a man with practically white hair and a thick accent hands him a beer. “But they did seem his type.”

“Yeah, those two have been in love for years but won’t admit it. It gets really tense sometimes in the locker room.”

“What do y’all play?”

“Hockey” The man Clayton was purposefully avoiding looking at says. He takes a drink instead of answering him.

“Y’all enjoying the music? Doesn’t seem like something y’all would normally listen too.” He smiles when he gets clapped on the back by a laughing James.

“If you have better suggestions for country music we would love to hear them. Maybe we will start playing it in the locker room.” The man smiles at him and Clay feels his face heat up as he imagines being under him. The alcohol is really starting to hit.

“I- Yeah, I can give you some.” He can’t tear his eyes away from the man. He gives them loads of songs to listen to and some even come on in the bar. He sees James making a playlist and makes fun of him for it. Clay doesn’t really listen to playlists, seems boring to always know what songs are coming next.

His phone goes off with a text alert, he reads it and his face falls a little. He stands up and salutes the guys as he says goodbye and walks out the bar in a hurry. Outside waiting for him is his pickup, with Ashley in the driver's seat. He gets in and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

They drive in silence back to his house.

[lovingmyselfcore]

Chapter One

Skate Into My Heart -- Solangelo AU

It’s finally here!

In the prologue I said that sectionals came first- I’m sorry part of the internet lied to me. Regionals is first so that’s what’ll be happening here

Bryce was barreling towards him.

Clarisse attempted to take the puck and stop Bryce but today he was chock full of red-hot anger and elbowed her out of his way, swiping at her ankles with his stick.

She barely managed to skate out of his way and yelled, “Lawrence! What’s the matter with you!” 

It seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

He kept the puck close to him, keeping every other player away from him.

And he just kept his course straight to the goal. Straight to Will.

It was a practice game. Didn’t he know that? What was he doing? This wasn’t a big deal.

Bryce was still skating when he shot. It seemed like it was in slow-motion. The puck soared through the air, rising off the ice.

Will dove to block it from entering the goal - which was the wrong move. It hit him square in his chest, with enough force to make Will abruptly lose his breath.

Bryce came to a halt in front of him, spraying Will with ice shards.

“Lawrence, it seemed like that had quite the pent up aggression,” Connor said, while Will caught his breath.

Bryce rolled his eyes, taking off his helmet. “Just cause Solace and the rest of you are weak pussies.”

“Pussies’?” Travis came up behind Connor. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarisse only snarled her agreement.

“Guys,” Jason said. “Come on, it’s just Bryce being Bryce.”

Bryce turned to face Jason. “What is that supposed to mean, Grace.”

Jason crossed his arms, his eyes flashing. 

“Why was that the term you picked?” Clarisse asked, her voice low. Dangerous.

“This isn’t helping anything.” Will cut in. “Let’s just leave it. He’ll learn his lesson eventually. Someone will teach him.”

Jason seemed to steel himself, “Yeah. Let’s not fight.”

“Why?” Bryce taunted. “Are you both gay or something?” Will felt his hand twitch, almost curling itself into a fist. Surveying the team, everybody seemed to be holding themselves back.

Will was saved from answering Bryce’s (admittedly, most likely rhetorical, though it was doubtful he knew what that word meant) when he heard someone yell, “Will!”

It was Kayla standing at the edge of the rink. He skated over to her and came to a stop in front of her.

He jumped up to sit on the thick barrier and pull his skates off. “What?” He looked over to see Kayla looking at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages now. Your mom keeps calling your phone.”

Will went quiet, holding back a curse.

Kayla looked at him sympathetically despite him not saying anything.

“Alright. Thanks.” She patted him on the shoulder as he wove around her.

“Hey, mom,”

“William. Why haven’t you answered me?”

“I’ve been practicing, mom.”

“Practicing for anything in particular?” Her voice was high - too high - he knew this always meant she expected an answer he couldn’t give her.

“Hockey, mom.”

She sighed sadly and he got defensive.

“You know I’m only playing to try and somehow help me get through med school.”

“I know, honey. But still, it’s such a brutish sport, and locker rooms,” He could feel her shudder through the phone. “All the men.”

Will knew better than to probe about what that meant.

It would be easier to get through med school if you let me ask - or even talk - to dad. You and I both know he’d be willing. It is Medical School.

He didn’t say that though, it would only piss her off or make her sad and it just wouldn’t be a good situation. 

After an awkward silence, he saw Jason poke his head into the narrow corridor Will was in. Jason made some frantic, but quiet (ever polite) hand motions.

Will didn’t know if he should be feeling such intense relief, considering Jason’s face was pretty panicked.

“Mom, I’ve got to know. They need me.”

“Okay,” She said hesitantly. “Make sure to study tonight. You’ve got to keep everything fresh. Always.”

He wasn’t even in school yet. (He was trying though). And she wanted him to know everything.

Will didn’t know what he hated more. His mother’s expectations, or Bryce Lawerence. Really, it was a difficult choice.

She hung up before he could say anything.

He jogged over to where Jason was. “C’mon,” Jason said.

While they were walking Jason kept glancing at Will with a concerned expression. “What,” Will said finally, lips quirking into a smile.

“You alright, man? Your facial expressions during that call didn’t seem great.”

Will shrugged dismissively, “Just my mom. You know how that is.”

Jason laughed darkly, “Don’t I.”

“So what’s up,” Will asked, remembering how frantic he’d been.

“Oh, yeah. Um.”

Will grinned, “Spit it out, Grace. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Jason snorted. “I need someone to come with me to the figure skating Regionals tonight.”

Will tripped over his own feet but caught himself before he hit the ground.

Jason looked at him with brief worry then just burst out laughing.

“Leave me alone,” But Will was laughing too. “Why?”

“So you know, my sister Thalia,” Will nodded - everybody knew Thalia - “She’s best friends with this woman, Annabeth Chase. They’ve known each other since Annabeth was seven. Old history ya know.”

“So Annabeth’s a skater. She was going to be competing actually. But something awful happened with her boyfriend, he’s across the country. I’m unsure about the details. Thalia left to meet them earlier today, she’s also close with the boyfriend, I guess. So Thals needs me to go because apparently these tickets cost a lot and she doesn’t want them to go to waste.”

Jason’s voice got low like he was sharing a conspiracy nobody knew. “A little secret about me, I appreciate figure skaters.”

Will let out a surprised laugh and made his voice as low as Jason’s, “Me too.”

Jason smiled, “I figured. Which is why I’m inviting you. Thalia had two. One for her, and one for Grover Underwood.”

Will hummed his acknowledgment. “Yeah, dude. Of course, I’ll come. Just tell me time and place.”

Jason pumped his fist in the air.

~~~~~

Jason had told him he would pick him up, so here Will was. Waiting for Jason to arrive. He’d dressed nice (but not too nice) it was a competition after all, and despite how much he’d deny it his mother’s lessons in etiquette had stuck.

Will was texting, sitting on the couch up against the window in his small apartment. He was letting the dying sunlight filter in and light the space. The reds and oranges and yellows made Will look like some sort of deity. It haloed his hair and accentuated the sharp planes of his face. His feet were propped, knees bent, next to him. 

It was a groupchat with Austin, Kayla, and himself. The only way it could be summed up is: chaos.

Kayla: Sooooo

Austin: Yes?

Kayla: Not you

Austin: How dare you

Kayla: Go play your saxophone and feel better

Austin: I will

Austin: Not because you told me to

Kayla: Oh of course not

Will: So that ‘soooo’ was for me, then?

Kayla: Oh yeah

Kayla: Any cutes boys you’ve met recently?

Will: You know that you’d know if I met anybody

Austin: Is there anybody lgbt even at the rink

Will: Oh yeah but nobody I’ve noticed I like

Kayla: :(

Will was startled by a knock on the door. 

“It’s open!” He called, getting off the couch to meet Jason.

~~~ Nico

I slowly sank to a sitting position, feeling the rough brick scrape my back. I knew it would leave noticeable marks but right now, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I had been stretching and messing around with the others but suddenly my chest had felt very tight.

Hazel had seen the pained expression on my face and made some excuse, letting me slip out the backdoor.

I couldn’t do this.

Saltwater. I tasted salt water.

I couldn’t.

It trickled down my neck.

I couldn’t.

I was so fucking weak.

For so, so many reasons.

I could feel the gradually growing serpent of my anxieties building in the back.

I hadn’t practiced for this enough, and I was going to let everyone down.

The judges were going to find out my most closely guarded secret and-

No. Forget the judges. Everyone was going to find out.

Everyone.

I was probably going to mess up and embarrass myself in one of the biggest competitions of my life.

I was going to let everyone down.

Again. 

I’d found a family and all because I was a fucking failure, I was going to lose them.

I knew I had enough cash in my bag to leave if I had to.

By bag I mean the one I always had:

A change of clothes

Cash for bus tickets

Bottled water and protein bars

A pocket knife.

But it wouldn’t be enough, would it?

I still wouldn’t be able to get away from the shame.

From any of the shame.

Why did I have to be this way? Why

I couldn’t breathe

I couldn’t fucking breathe.

The saltwater ran like a perverted caress down my face and neck and chest.

I shivered involuntarily

“Hey,” The voice was soft, and not familiar.

I turned so quickly half of my face scraped the wall.

We winced in sync.

It was the boy I’d seen in the rink some time ago, the hockey player.

~~~~

Will

“Hey, Jason?”

He looked at me.

We were being jostled through the crowd. There were so many people. So many.

“I need some air. Can you text me our seat numbers?”

He paused and looked at me. At how my eyes flitted around the room and my flinch every time someone ran into me.

“Yeah, of course, dude.” He made shooing motions with his hands, making me snort. He grinned but kept staring at me until I turned around and started pushing my way through the crowd.

I knew I couldn’t go outside the front door, there would be even more people there. So I did something scandalous.

I pushed open the door marked Employees Only and was ejected outside the back of the building. 

I was walking along the wall when I saw movement a few feet away.

It was a boy, pressing himself against the wall like it was simultaneously all that was keeping him alive and like he wanted to fade into it.

“Hey,” I murmured like I was attempting to talk down a tiger.

He turned, scraping his face along the wall. But he didn’t seem to feel it.

He looked like some kind of ghoul, sitting there. The bad lighting from the street lamps washed out his ivory skin, making him look deathly.

Those dark eyes peered at me.

He’d look terrifying, except he appeared too small for his body.

He was shivering, tears running freely down his face.

At the angle he was sitting, it looked like his bones were almost poking out of his skin.

Some sense in me was screaming to help him, and though he looked like the opposite type to accept my help he hadn’t run away either.

I looked him up and down and saw with panic he seemed to be holding his breath, but he didn’t seem to realize it.

I didn’t know who this boy was, besides seeing him occasionally at the rink.

But we were both here and like hell was I going to leave him.

~~~~

Nico

He was looking at me with a look of sympathy. Not pity. Sympathy.

He reached out but I flinched away from him and he let his hand drop.

“Can you breathe?” His voice was serious but caring. I couldn’t really see him, the water in my eyes distorted him but I felt like he was some kind of god. He looked like pure sunlight.

I only shook my head, suddenly feeling the urge to take large gulping breaths.

“Put your head between your knees.”

He didn’t reach for me again, but his fingers twitched like he wanted to.

The surrounding world was a dull roar in my ears. The serpent, who’d been ready to devour me whole, angrily shrank back into the recesses of my brain until I could only see those slit-pupiled eyes. It was only lying in wait. Like always. When I lifted my head, my scowl was back.

Despite the rivulets of saltwater- not tears, I couldn’t call them that - I snarled at him, “Leave me alone. I didn’t ask for your help.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m sorry. I’m not going to tell anyone what happened here, so you don’t have to worry about that. Nico, right?”

I just growled again but he didn’t seem to take the hint. He had a small backpack next to him and he rummaged through it and handed me some tissues and a water bottle.

I raised my eyebrows.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to cross through to go to the bathroom.”

I grudgingly accepted and started wiping at my face after dampening the tissues. He pulled out a small tube of ointment. “Put it on your face, okay? The scrape is not that bad. But it can’t hurt.”

I just stared blankly at him and he laid it next to me with a smile.

He waved, a little awkwardly, as he walked away.

As I stared at the ointment and the tissues and water I could only come up with one coherent thought:

What the fuck

~~~~ Will

His phone pinged with a message from Jason. After a few seconds of searching, he found it in his small backpack. He distractedly glanced over the text.

Jason: We’re in row A, seats 5 and 6. Thalia got us right up front.

Will: Sounds good

Will: I’ll head there now

He slipped his phone back into his bag.

He really hoped Nico was okay. He was a figure skater and most likely is competing tonight, and Will had never seen him in action but he was almost positive they would need him.

“Hey!” Jason waved to him from their seats and Will slid in next to him.

“You okay?” Jason asked after Will got settled. “You looked pretty uncomfortable.”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not normally like that but something about that environment.” He shuddered. “Anyway, everything’s good now.”

Jason nodded with a smile.

Will surveyed the rink. It was nicer than their rinks back at the studio which was saying something.

He spotted the judge's podium, on a small platform slightly above the rink. There were five judges, none of them looking like they entirely wanted to be here and all of them looking like they would throttle whoever came out.

Not only did the judges look unhappy, but about half of the crowd also did too. They were all shifting like they were here, but there was somewhere else they’d rather be. Why come then?

Will couldn’t imagine being one of the skaters in the locker rooms right now, he’d probably throw up.

“First up!” The booming voice of the announcer made Will jump slightly in his seat.

“The singles competition,” He drawled. “From Crescent City…”

Will tuned him out as he watched the woman glide out onto the ice. She was really good and kept most of the crowd entranced, but Will also had an eye on the judges. Only a few of them seemed impressed but only one seemed bored, which most likely was a good thing for her.

“From Olympus Ice,”

Jason and Will leaned forward at the same time.

“Nico Di Angelo!”

Will felt himself clapping as soon as his name was announced.

Nico seemed to magically appear on the ice, looking significantly more confident than the last time he’d seen him.

He appeared to take a deep breath and steel himself before beginning his routine. It was magic. Pure magic.

The way he flew made it look like he’d been born to do this.

It was elegant, but, in a way, suspenseful. Like he could do something unexpected at any moment.

Will was frozen, lips slightly parted as Nico made everyone believe he owned the rink.

He wove a story with his fluid movements, a story that held Will captive.

He attempted a move that never in Will’s wildest dreams could he do, everyone watched as he spun with bated breath and cheered when he landed but the skater in Will recognized that he hadn’t done it. He almost did, and he definitely caught himself, but he hadn’t done it.

And if those judges were worthy at all for their position, they would know too.

Nico finally slid to a stop in front of the judges, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tilted upward, challenging them to mention the slip-up.

It was quite a scene. He looked almost ethereal and they were all sitting (or standing in Nico’s case) looked like something out of a painting.

Later, after the other singles and the partners and the ensembles, the audience was still, waiting for the announcement.

“The 1st place winner, and who will be going to Sectionals is…

Olympus Ice!” People burst into applause but Will was only staring at Nico who was standing with his team, a barely-there smile present on his face, but enough to make Will whisper, “Wow,”

Jason glanced at him, then at where he was staring. “Don’t do that, Will. No figure skaters. You know that.”

Will rolled his eyes and scoffed,  “I would never.”

Jason sighed and smiled, “Good.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO Origins “Ramirez.”

This is what my rain wanted to write today, so this is what you guys get to read lol. I am a slave to the whims of what catches my stupid brain’s fleeting interest. This was actually pretty fun o write though, so I hope you like it :)

The sound of steel cutting over ice: it’s sharp like the scraping of a blade on concrete though much more satisfying. It’s a sound he associates with weightlessness. He imagines that if he could fly this is what it would feel like. He holds his arms out to the side cutting backwards across the ice in large sweeping strokes, his feet moving in familiar patterns so effortless he could definitely do them in his sleep. He spins in a tight circle rotating  over the ice on the tips of his toes using the picks at the front of the skates to gain purchase against the cold, frozen material.

“Yo! Angel!”

He skids to a stop sending up a wave of ice crystals against one wall.

On the other side of the rink a youth hockey team is practicing drills.

“Looking good, baby.”

If he had rolled his eyes any harder he might have been able to see his spinal column.

He could see them waving at him through the glass arms around each other like they were about to break out into the throws of passion. 

Wasn’t it so nice that both of his exes had gotten together.

He sighed, guess that’s what he got for only dating within the olympic team. HE stepped off the ice and sat down on the bench pulling off his skates and setting them to the side. The two lovebirds walked closer.

Christina Swanson and Michel Castle both up and coming olympic competitors working together on a partnered ice routine they were sure was going to win them a gold medal at next year’s winter olympics.

Both of them were super hot Christina with the body of an angel and michel with the body of a greek god, but all Ramirez wanted to do was punch Michel in the dick and slap the bitch look off of Christina’s face. He wondered if that was the way everyone felt about their exes.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Christina giggled, “Michel and I were just discussing how good you are in b-”

He held up a hand, “The last thing I want to hear is a score roster for my private performances.” He pulled on his sneakers, “So if you will excuse me, I’m out before this gets petty.”

Michel smirked, “Oh come on Angel, just a bit of friendly banter. You know you would probably skate better if you got that stick out of your ass.”

“Hmm that’s weird because I distinctly remember that being your thing.” He threw his skates over his shoulder and walked past the two of them trying to ignore their side comments. He found it very funny that they were being rude to him when he distinctly remembered it was Michel who had cheated on him with christina the second time and christina who had dumped him the first time.

Not for the first time he wondered if he shouldn't just pick one side and stick with it, at least then he wouldn’t have to run risk of being forced to watch his exes dating each other...or never mind he was sure he could find a way to make that happen. He always seemed to have the worst luck with girls, or guys. He had the worst luck dating in general.

He stepped out into the hallway walking past another group of kids at the rec center and then out into the hallway where the elderly janitor was pinning up notices to the cork board.

“Morning Elliot.”

The old man turned around, “Oh Morning Angel.” The two men shook hands.

“Good yo see you up and about. The youth seem to like to sleep in, but you know what I always say early to wake early to rise.”

“Keeps a man healthy and wealthy and wise, yeah, I know.” He glanced over the man’s shoulder and towards the new gloss holo-posters. The largest one stood out, it was a recruiting poster for the Marine Corps, “Go to space with the marine corps.” He read aloud, “What are they on about.”

Elliot waved a hand, “Didn’t you hear. They’re flying that new fangled interstellar space whachamachallit out in the next few years. Guess they are looking for marines in case they get attacked by-” He wiggled his fingers, “Aliens.”

Ramirez laughed, “Cool.” He glanced up at the sky, “I’ve always thought it would be cool to go to space.” 

Elliot waved a hand, “Don’t you have some ice dancing to do or something, kid.”

His shoulders wilted a bit, “yeah, guess I do.”

He said goodbye to the old janitor and stepped out into the Texas sunlight. It was hot out here after all the ice.

Overhead he could hear the distant roar of jet engines from one of the nearest air force bases. Seemed like they had been working with jets a lot recently. He swore he had seen about a million and a half of those M-90s fly overhead in the past few weeks.

He walked over to his car and slid into the Driver’s seat staring blankly out the windshield.

What was wrong with him?”

He had been like this for weeks.

All mopy and pathetic…. Was it because of his exes, the last breakup, nah he was over them.

He slumped down in his seat and started the car heading home  with a case of some serious moodiness. When he got back he could almost forget about his issues since he was immediately tackled by his younger sister who proceeded to beat the ever loving shit out of him in a wrestling match. But then again she was also on her way to becoming an olympian, so that didn’t surprise him.

This family was pretty talented at sports.

His older sister played soccer professionally, and his youngest brother was star of his middle school football team so something could be said about that.

“Morning Angel, how was practice today?”

“Absolute shit.”

“Hey watch your language.”

“Sorry mom, just hit a slump or something.” 

HIs father looked up from his tablet where he was sitting at the table, “Sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah yeah, fine. I’m just going to head out today maybe catch up with friends or something.”

“Alright have fun, don’t do anything stupid.”

***

He had gone and tried to do tons of stupid things, but none of those things were what he really needed. Nothing could take his mind off the increasing feeling of dissatisfaction, which he couldn’t explain for the life of him, and that night found him sitting on the roof watching the sky darken as the sun set behind the distant line of hills. The air was hot and dusty, so he only wore shorts and a white cotton shirt  where he lay against the roof’s sloped surface. A breeze rolled past him, a breeze that carried with it the sound of some pretty colorful cursing in his family’s native tongue.

He frowned and glanced over the edge of the roof.

“Abuela!”

His grandmother held up a hand to shut him up as she crawled onto the room still cursing violently and grumbling, “Why do you always have to go and mope in places restricted to old people.” Still speaking spanish.

He helped her onto the the roof to sit next to hi her old wrinkled hand gripping onto  his arm like a steel vice. People said he had a lot in common with his grandmother. He had definitely inherited her dark tan skin dark, almost black, hair and amber eyes, “What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I’m up here to see what you’re moping about. Did practice not go well today.”

“No of course it did.”

“Exes? 

“No.”

“Get rejected?”

“No.”

“Than what do you have to complain about?”

He smiled at her bluntness and leaned back watching as the first stars winked into place in the night sky, “I don’t know… I just…. You ever just feel sort of empty?”

“That’s called crippling depression.”

He snorted a smile, “No, not that. I mean like you aren’t doing something you should be doing, or that your life the way it is is meaningless.”

“Your one year away from being an olympian.”

He sighed and sat up resting his arms against his knees, “That’s the problem though isn’t it. I am a year away from being an olympian and it's not…. Well it’s not exciting. Shouldn't I be super nervous, excited or even proud.” He shuffled his feet, “I mean I have been working on this for years, I used to love skating…. But now…. I mean I still like it, don’t get me wrong, but it all seems so…. so …. Petty.”

He turned looking over to find her raising an eyebrow at him. 

He shrugged, “Never-mind.” Just me being dumb I guess.

“No keep going. I’m listening.”

“Well… I'm at the peak of my game, the best I will ever be, and I should be proud of that, but the more and more I think about it the less…. Important it seems. Like I just… It's like I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing off for praise and admiration only to get old and break down and then regret my youth. I have always been good at any physical activity I tried, and instead of using it for something worthwhile or useful, I'm doing this.”

“Isn’t the pursuit of betterment in itself a worthwhile cause?”

He shrugged, “I have no problem with other people doing it if that’s what makes them happy, but I just…. I don’t know if this is what makes me happy anymore.”

“Then quit?”

“After years of training. Wouldn’t that be wasting my life and my talent. Years of preparation just thrown in the trash”

“Better to waste a decade than three. Believe me, I am old enough to know. Besides, you're not even old enough to drink. I can hardly consider the years being wasted ”

Overhead, the stars winked down on him. 

***

He walked into the rink the next day like on any other day skates hung over his shoulder. He sat on the bench with the others listening to their coaches discussing sponsors , discussing how things were going with getting their team ready, about who was going to be doing what, but he could barely pay attention.

He looked around at the others, friends he had had for many years, watched them lean forward in their seats eyes wide with excitement. He could practically hear the eager beating of their hearts as they bounced on the balls of their feet. 

And he felt….. Nothing 

He glanced over at Michel and Christina, the two most vapid people he had ever met (yeah he was apparently great at picking them), and saw the eager hungry expressions on their faces.

Even they were ready, willing and prepared.

They looked excited.

He felt frustration, anger and hopelessness beginning to build up inside him. He stared down at the skates sitting in his lap. He stared out at the ice rink, a 30 by 60m oval of ice where he would be paraded for the rest of his short lived career until his young body degraded and he either walked off or someone younger and more talented pushed him off.

It was hopeless 

He felt meaningless.

He stood abruptly, skates clattering to the floor. He watched them as if in slow motion clatter and bounce. All eyes turned to look at him. His coach looked on in confusion.

“Angel, are you ok?”

The voices echoed in his head, and he turned walking out of the rink ice skates left forgotten on the floor. He heard footsteps behind hi, voices calling his name.

“What is he doing?”

“Why’s he being such a drama queen.”

He walked out into the hall passing by the cork board where-

He paused glancing down at the poster from earlier.

The marines.

A hand reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, “Angel,  you ok.” She shrugged the hand off and walked out into the parking lot. He could feel the eyes of the other skaters pinned to his back staring at him. They loved drama, and this was getting interesting.

He stood in the parking lot staring at the sun and swiveling his head.

Ah, there.

He began walking across the parking lot.

His coach grabbed him by the arm, “Angel, are you ok. Do we need to call someone. A hospital maybe. Perhaps you should sit down and take a breath and let your head clear.”

“My head is clear.” He heard himself say.

He stepped up to a door in the little strip mall and shouldered it open, stepping into the cool air conditioned room. The carpet was drab and grey, and nothing could be heard but the distant sound of a vacuum and some typing. The others piled in after him as he swiveled his head looking for the correct door.

He found it.

He pushed it open startling the man behind the desk whose name tag read Sgt Myers.

He seemed surprised as the odd eclectic group crammed themselves into his office.

Sgt Myers tilted his head, “Can I help you?”

Warm honey light dropped from the window onto his strangely patterned uniform.

“How do I sign up?”

“ANGEL! What are you doing!”

Behind him the others gasped. Sgt. Myers looked very confused.

“Er Well, we have some paperwork and a background check.”

“When is your next bus leaving.”

“Tonight.”

“Can you get me on it?”

His coach grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, “Angel what are you doing! Have you gone insane! Is this some sort of psychotic break. Do I need to call your parents! You can’t just throw away your life by joining the army.”

Ramirez pointed at the wall, “Marines.

Sgt Myers sat with his mouth open.

Ramirez shrugged his coach off, “Can you get me on that bus.”

“Er…. yeah. I guess we probably could. You’d have to do a physical and….”

“Done.”

More protests raised from the back.

“This isn't about the breakup is it?” Michel wondered.

Ramirez snorted, “Not even close, but getting away from you will be a perk.”

“Angel, try to think for a moment.”

Ramirez held out his arm allowing the man to scan the implants under the skin. There was a beep as the information automatically filled out the paperwork on file. The man looked through his background check, and seeing nothing major he shrugged. “I'll send it out to be approved…. But Kid….. maybe you should think about this for a minute. No hasty decisions.”

Behind him the others threw up a ruckus agreement.

He stayed calm, “it’s my life and my regrettable decisions to make.”

He couldn’t really argue with that.

“Angel, why are you doing this. You’re too talented to be wasted in the army. Please just come back, you’ll feel better once you get back on the ice.”

He turned to look at his coach, the other members of his team who looked on in confusion. He felt surprisingly calm and collected, “You’re right.” They looked relieved, “The ice does calm me down, which is why I don’t want to make it a career.”

More uproar.

He raised his voice, “You guys are all so excited, and the fact that I’m not just proves that I shouldn’t be here.” His heart was hammering now as his body began to catch up with his mind.

He felt the beating, pounding of his heart, the rush of blood in his head, the fluttering feeling in his chest.

And he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his nose and eyes prickling with heat.

A shiver of excitement rolled down his spine, and a grin broke out across his face.

There it was.

He hadn’t felt that sensation in a 

Very

Long 

Time 

He held up a hand against their protests, “Look I am going to miss all of you, and I wish you luck. I am super proud of all the work I have seen you guys give to this, but this is where I have to say goodbye.  Have made my decision. I am going to be a marine.” 

***

“You did what!” His mother’s voice was loud over the phone as he slouched back against the tarnished bus seat as the other young men and women filtered on.

“I joined the marines?”

“Angel Antonio Ramirez, tell me you are joking.”

“No mom. I…. I did what I had to do.”

Behind her in the house he could hear the gasps of his younger sister, “But Angel, we were going to go to the Olympics together.”

That part he did feel a bit sad about, “Sorry Izzy, but you were always meant to be the cool one in the family.”

“What is going on?’ His younger brother asked.

“Your brother joined the marines.”

“Cool.”

“Not not cool.” His mother said, “ANgel get your ass home right now.”

He sort of just smiled as -- from the background his father cut in, “Sounds exactly like something Angel would do.”

His mother was about to protest when rockus laughter cut through the background. She went silent in confusion before, “Abuela?”

“Go get em boy! See those aliens!.” She continued to laugh, “Proud of you angel, was hoping you had the balls to go and do it.”

“You knew?

“Course I knew, runs in the family. Your grandpa  ran off to join the army during the pan-asian war didn’t he?”

“Well yeah.”

“Proud of you Angel, now go get em.” She continued to laugh, and that made him smile.. Even if it was just her supporting him, he would be ok.

A sigh, his mother, “Angel, are you sure this is what you want.”

“Yes mom, I’m sure.” 

“Ok…. well call us and let us know ok?”

“Yes.”

“Love you.”

“Love you to.” 

He hung up and leaned back in his seat just as another weight dropped down beside him. He looked over, coming eye to eye with a short-blond woman with blue/hazel eyes, and a short blond buzz.

Damn she was cut.

“Sup.”she said sensing him staring 

“Nothing much.” He Said with a smile. He held out a hand, “Ramirez.”

She took his hand with a strong grip, “Maverick. So what brings you onto this ronchy ass bus.”

He grinned, “Long story.”

“I’m sure we’ve got time.” 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #387

“today i woke up, & i hate myself”

What common problem have you never experienced? The loss of a close family member (that doesn't include pets). Alternatively, what's an uncommon problem you have experienced? Homelessness. Do you know anyone who opposes marriage equality? I sure do. What was the last thing you got really emotional about? Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty premiering. What's the longest amount of time you've been ill for? I don't really know. I don't get sick a lot at all. Who is your closest male friend? Girt. Do you know anyone who hunts for meat? Sadly. I say "sadly" because it's not like they need it. Have you ever lived with a boyfriend/girlfriend? Yes, although I wasn't a technical resident. I was there all the time, though. What do you wash dishes with? Sponge, scrub brush, rag, something else? A sponge. Is there anything you prefer to do the old-fashioned way? There's probably something, but I can't think of anything. Do you put your glasses and mugs right side up or upside down on the cabinet shelf? Upside-down. What was the worst part of your childhood? My parents fighting. Have you ever seen a high school relationship last long-term? (like 10+yrs) Yeah. Do you know any cancer survivors? Quite a few. Leftover pizza for breakfast... yay or nay? Good shit, man. Do you personally know anyone who's a psychopath or sociopath? I don't think so. What is your most used kitchen appliance? Lately, it's been the apple slicer. I've been on a real apple slices + peanut butter kick lately. What is something that you would personally like to be remembered for? For being a caring person towards all living things. Have you ever been diagnosed as clinically depressed before? Yes. Do you like bowling? Yeah, it's fun. Do you own binoculars or nonoculars? What do you use them for? No. Do you ever wish you had a telescope on the roof or attic to stargaze? Yeah, that'd be cool. Have you ever had to deal with someone close to you going off to war? No, thankfully. Who do you feel you have the most in common with? Sara, easily. Who in your life causes you the most stress or negative feelings? My damn self lmao. Have you ever had a teacher that also taught your parents? No. My parents didn't grow up in NC. What’s one thing that people definitely CAN’T count on you for? To remember like... anything. What about something they definitely can count on you for? Someone to listen to encourage them. What’s one food that you want to try but haven’t yet? I've always thought macaroons look good. Do you have anything planned for the summer? No. Do you walk fast or slow? Slow. Would you consider yourself an adrenaline junkie? No. What is a common slang word from where you live? Plural "you" does not exist. It's "y'all," lol. What’s the scariest thing you’ve accidentally found on the internet? *shrug* Probably something as a kid, going on those sketchy websites with loads of games and stuff. Thinking of every Halloween costume you’ve had, which one was the most creative? I don't think I've had any creative costumes for Halloween. What’s one random city you want to visit? It's not exactly "random" as it's a popular location, but anyway, I would love to visit Venice. What subjects do you or did you get the worst grades in? Math. When was the last time you ate cake and what type of cake was it? That's a good question, actually. Maybe my niece's birthday in February? I don't remember what kind of cake it was. Do you have photos to go with all of the contacts in your phone? No; I don't have any. Do you like snowy winter days or do you prefer rainy days? SNOWY! Name 3 things you find most beautiful in nature: Mountains, large waterfalls, and desert dunes in the wind. If you could ask one person one questions and get a completely honest answer who would it be and what would you ask? Jason. I'd ask if he thought I was emotionally abusive. What is your favorite winter activity? Building snowmen. Who is the greatest singer who is no longer living? Freddie Mercury. What is your idea of heaven? I don't know, really... I have to ask myself IS there a heaven in eternity? Living forever just... doesn't appeal to me. "Living" is an odd word to use there, but hopefully you get it. Existing on and on and on and on seems like it'd just be a drag, but at the same time I do like the thought of feeling relentlessly happy and peaceful with my loved ones. I guess that would be my definition of it, if it does exist. What’s one of the scariest things you’ve ever done? ODed. Have you ever watched the Superbowl all the way through? Just once, on my 16th birthday because I was at Jason's place and all of his family was watching it. I had absolutely zero interest, but we wanted to hang with the family. If you had to move to another country, where would you move? Canada. Do you watch American Horror Story? I haven't in years. It was Jason's and my first "show," and the first season was excellent. I lost interest in the second one, honestly. I'd be up for watching other seasons, though. How many relationships have you been in this year? None. What's your favorite cereal? Probably Cinnamon Toast Crunch. That's also the only cereal where I can happily drink the milk afterwards. Twitter or Facebook? Facebook. Do you like to paint your nails? No. What's the coolest place you've ever been to? Disney World, probably. Have you ever punched anyone? No. What's something you wish you knew how to do? Cook. :/ I really need to make an effort to learn. It'd be great to not rely on a microwave for the rest of my life. What's a celebrity that everyone likes but you don't? *shrug* What food do you eat the most? Probably bread in some form or another. That really needs to stop. Green or purple grapes? Either one, but they have to be firm. I cannooooooot with soft grapes. Have you ever cried over a text? Yeah. What's the background of your phone of? My lock screen is this pretty, simplistic periwinkle color with "work on you for you" written on it. It's one I plan on keeping for probably a long time because I connect to it so deeply with my stupid damn head frequently demanding I have to improve "for Jason" to prove him wrong. Which is a very unhealthy mindset to have, I know. My home screen is a cute lil Mark edit someone made with a very similar pale blue background, so my phone is just currently an #aesthetic. Do you have a Snapchat? No. What's your favorite sports team? (if you like sports)? I don't like sports, but I'm biased towards the Carolina Hurricanes hockey team because of my dad. Last thing you ate? I had Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast. Do you take a lot of selfies? Definitely not. I just hate how I look so much; it takes way too much effort for me to get an "acceptable" one. Do you prefer strawberries or cherries? Strawberries. I hate cherries. How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Maybe like, three. -_- Our A/C is still out, and it was like, 87 in the house last night. It was impossible to sleep. Do you listen to music daily? Not EVERY day, but usually. Biggest insecurity? My weight. Do you play video games? Not as much as I used to. I'd probably play way more if I actually had a PS4 + the games I'm DYING to have. Do you consider yourself lazy? "Yes, but a lot of it is also health related for my lack of energy and motivation." <<<< This for me as well. What recently made you laugh? I was watching a bit of The Nanny with Mom yesterday. We love that show. Do you like gummy bears? Yep. What was the last song you listened to? I'm randomly hooked on "My Nocturnal Serenade" by YOHIO. Like, I've known the song for a long time, but NOW I'm bingeing it???? Describe your mom with one word. Selfless. What's the biggest turn-off? Probably being misogynistic. But being a cocky ass is definitely high up there, too. What fish scares you the most? Mfkng whale sharks terrify me. How do you feel about snails? They're cuties!!! What's your favorite app? Pokemon GO. Would you rather time travel into the past or future? The future, to see what's coming. I feel like you could come back with some pretty valuable information. What is the saddest song you've ever heard? I think "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade has to come on top. What insect do you hate the most? I was reminded that stag beetles exist last night, and omfg those. Well, "hate" is the wrong word, really, I'm just terrified of them. Would you ever have a wild animal as a pet if possible? I 110% want to rescue an opossum, emphasis on "rescue." I'm not plucking one from the wild or anything like that. I would be in HEAVEN raising one of those angels. Are there any decorations that makes you happy? (lights, candles, plants..) I love those beds decorated with fairy lights, and just Christmas lights in general. Halloween and Christmas decor tend to give me sparks of happiness when I see 'em. Does race matter to you when it comes to dating? Not at all for me. When was the last time you painted something? Not since I was still in school and took a Painting course. When was the last time you really felt alive, and what were you doing? I have NO idea. What is one question you would like an answer to? Why the worst things tend to happen to good people. Name one favorite thing to do with kids while babysitting. I don't babysit, but if I was to be in charge of a kid, I'd love to teach them to play video games from my childhood. Playing Pokemon with my niece and nephew is always a blast, ahhhh. Name one flavor you like. Strawberry is pretty consistent. Name one thing you are hoping for. Venus' new terrarium soon... big sigh. I can't for the life of me find one that's a reasonable price and also adequately sized. I'm willing to put the rest of my cash into it, but Mom is helping, so I can't just buy the first one I see. Then I'd need more substrate, I seriously want a temperature gun and hygrometer, a cool hide, sticks and stuff for cover... It's going to be expensive, but I want Venus to have a truly proper environment she can thrive in. Write the name of one of your imaginary friends from when you were younger. Oddly enough, I can't remember the imaginary wolf that was my "friend." I say "oddly" because his whole idea was important to me as a weird-ass kid. Name one girl's name that starts with a "J" that you like. "Justine." Name one boy's name that starts with a "J" that you like. Maybe "Jaxson." Have you ever been kissed? Yeah. Have you ever feared that you would be killed? It's never been like, a fear I actively worry about. I just acknowledge it's always a possibility for anyone. What is the last great opportunity you missed? This was quite a while ago by now, but I'd say by dropping out of school, I really let photography opportunities slip since I became the newspaper photographer...

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 24)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 23

Dex finds Whiskey at Faber.

It's not unusual for Whiskey to come to the rink alone. He's been known to stay behind after practice, every so often. Dex had first assumed that Whiskey remained to work on his technique, or his speed, or something else with a clear purpose, but the few times when Dex has lingered long enough to watch Whiskey for a bit, he's always found that Whiskey just… Skates. Around and around, at a surprisingly leisurely pace.

It's something that has made Dex significantly less concerned about Whiskey's otherwise strict and serious relationship with hockey.

Dex laces up his own skates. He joins Whiskey on the ice, bringing their sticks and a puck with him. Whiskey slows down when Dex approaches. He nods as Dex hands him his stick.

"Wanna run some drills?"

"Maybe in a bit." Dex drops the puck on the ice and gives it a slight push in Whiskey's direction. "I was actually hoping I could talk to you about something?"

"Sure. Of course." Whiskey catches the puck and shoots it back, his pass steady without being too forceful. Dex receives it with ease. "I've been wanting to talk to you, too. I think, with how well our offensive plays have worked recently, we could start to focus more on-"

"I've actually got something on my mind that isn't really about the team," Dex cuts in. He pushes the puck back and forth a couple of times without actually passing it. "It's… More of a you and me type thing."

Whiskey raises both eyebrows.

"We have those?"

Dex smiles.

"Sure we do. We're friends, aren't we?"

"No, of course," Whiskey agrees. It's nice, how he doesn't seem to hesitate at all. "I just… No, okay. What's up?"

"I need to give you a heads up about something." Dex passes the puck again, shoots it properly this time. Whiskey barely breaks eye contact as he catches it. "It's what friends do. And I want you to know that I understand this is going to feel a bit strange, for you. But it's going to be a very good thing, too."

Whiskey frowns. He makes a move to pass the puck back to Dex, but then seems to change his mind.

"You're scaring me, a little bit."

Dex smiles again.

"It's nothing bad." He pauses briefly. "I've decided on my dibs, is all."

"Oh." Whiskey's frown deepens slightly. "I don't… How would that affect me?"

"Because I'm giving it to Pips."

Whiskey loses control over the puck. It slips past his stick and continues all the way to the boards, but Whiskey isn't even looking at it.

"You're what?"

"I'm giving my dibs to Pips," Dex repeats carefully. "And I wanted to tell you, first."

Whiskey stares at him. He makes no move to retrieve the puck. After a moment, Dex glides over and gets it himself.

"Well," he says cheerfully. It's almost a chirp. "Good talk."

"No, hold on." Apparently, Whiskey's recovered enough for words. "What about… There are plenty of Waffles, aren't there?"

"Actually, no." Dex shakes his head. "Chowder locked Hops down in January. The poor kid had been doing C's dishes for, like, a month. And Nursey decided on Louis, last week."

"What about Bully, he-"

"Bully's moving off campus with some guys from his class." Dex shrugs. "Seems real psyched about it, too."

"Of course he does," Whiskey mutters. "But Pips? Really?"

Slowly, and very gently, Dex nudges the puck back towards Whiskey.

"Yeah. I know it'll make things weird for you."

"I mean…" Whiskey shoots the puck back with a little more force than before. "He's kind of my Scone, isn't he? If there is such a thing."

"He is," Dex agrees readily. He sends a steady pass to Whiskey, and only barely catches the puck when Whiskey immediately shoots it back. "And he's so important for the future of this team. He's talented, yes, and still getting better every single practice, but more than that, he's got the right energy, the right attitude. He's a team player, someone who's constantly pushing everyone else to try harder. He's going to have your back, this fall, when I won't be around to."

"You're not wrong. In fact, you're so right. But… But dibs." Whiskey looks down for a moment. He clenches and unclenches his hands around his stick. "I can't believe… I'd already made up my mind. Ages ago. Maybe I should've actually fucked off to Texas, just so I could snag Pips first."

"Hey, now." Dex smiles. "You know, I had my mind made up, too. Last year. Except, Bitty got there, first."

Abruptly, Whiskey looks up.

Dex passes him the puck again. Whiskey lets it slide right past him.

"Really?" Whiskey asks. He sounds a bit shaken. "Man. Last year?"

"Sure." Dex shrugs. "I did vote for you and all. You're so good for this team, Whiskey. More so than I think you quite realise, even now."

"I think maybe I'm starting to." Whiskey looks down at the ice, turns his stick over a couple of times. "Nice of you to put me in your exact position, next year, when I need to make my choice."

"It's the beauty and tragedy of dibs," Dex tells him cheerfully. "You could still tell Pips that it would've been him, if you want to. Or better yet, give him the A. It's actually been known to work wonders even for the most emotionally constipated idiots on this team. Not that Pips is any of those things, but I'm sure he'd be great, anyway."

"Oh, fuck you." Whiskey grins slightly. "You know, I'd prefer to wait for the actual vote before picking out an assistant captain."

"See?" Dex grins, too. "Just look how much you've grown, man."

Whiskey glides over to retrieve the puck. He looks a little flustered.

"Fine," he says. He shoots the puck back to Dex. "You can have Pips. You've got my permission."

"I wasn't asking for permission, exactly."

"I'm giving it to you, anyway." Whiskey nods, somewhat decisively. "On one condition."

"You know, there's really nothing in the bylaws about-"

"Teach me how to bake one of Bitty's pies."

Dex stares at him.

"What?"

"He taught you, didn't he?" Whiskey shrugs. "It makes sense."

"Hey," Dex says. He smiles. "You don't have to be the same captain Bitty was. You know that, right?"

"Remember how we're waiting for the actual vote?" Whiskey reminds him tersely. Still, he smiles, too. "I just think, someone needs to carry on the tradition. And I'm baking after every kegster, anyway. Might as well be pie, every so often."

"That's nice," Dex admits.

He looks at Whiskey then. Really looks at him. Finds that the complete lack of tension in Whiskey's shoulders isn't half as surprising as it once was. Acknowledges that there's a look of easy confidence in Whiskey's eyes that suits him so well, it's a wonder it wasn't always there. Above all, though, Whiskey looks content, like he's exactly where he's supposed to be and perfectly aware of it.

"You know," Dex says. "I really hope that you and I can stay friends, after I graduate."

"Of course, man." Whiskey grins. "Of course. Honestly, Miguel actually likes you so much, he'd kind of kill me if we didn't all keep hanging out from time to time."

"Well, we can't have that." Dex pauses for a second. "Could I… Would you mind if Nursey found out about you and Miguel? At some point."

"Oh," Whiskey says. For some reason, that makes him look a little curious. "At some point, huh?"

"Well, you know." Dex shrugs. "Eventually."

Whiskey grins.

"I see, I see. So. When's the wedding?"

"No, no, we're not-"

"Oh, but you are." Fuck, Whiskey sounds absolutely delighted. "Let me guess. You're following him wherever grad school takes him in the fall, even if it's fucking Alaska, and then it's all domestic bliss and diamond rings from there."

It's… Almost frighteningly accurate.

"Hey." Dex clears his throat. "Should we, like, actually run some drills?"

"Sure. Yeah, sure." For some reason, Whiskey lets him off the hook. He's still smiling, though. "Just so you know, you can tell Nurse. I trust him more than enough."

"Oh," Dex says. "Alright. Thanks, man."

"It's not something you need to thank me for." Whiskey skates over and steals the puck from Dex with practiced ease. "How about we work on speed, for a bit? If you can keep up."

"In honour of Pips, I assume?" Dex jokes. He smiles when Whiskey nods. "Alright. Bring it on."

ch. 25

[sincerelyreidburke]

Could you please tell me about the first time Nando gets fined (because of Quinn). What does Quinn think about the whole fining thing?

Yes, absolutely, anon— and thank you for asking!!

I’m going to cross-post this to ao3 along with a couple other drabbles that have come as results to asks, but I won’t do it yet because those other ones aren’t done. In the meantime: have this!!

Set about 24 hours after this most recent Quindo fic on ao3.

(Ask me anything about the crickets!)

//

Technically speaking, tonight is not Quinn’s first Samwell Hockey party.

Because after all, the whole reason he met Sebastián was his actual first party, the Halloween one, which was only a few weeks before now but feels like it was forever ago. He came here on his own accord, based on the invitation Denice extended, completely unknowing of what to expect. And he survived. A real frat party. In fact, he came out practically unscathed.

And even in the time since Halloween, he’s been in the Hockey Haus one other time, on the night of Winter Screw. That time, too, was doable; he emerged with a cute boy’s number, even. So tonight, two weeks to the date after Winter Screw, being in the Hockey Haus is not a new experience. Nor is the party atmosphere.

But it feels different. Tonight, it’s better, more comfortable, less of a social experiment and more just a social event. Because tonight, he’s here as a hockey boy’s boyfriend.

He’s a little giddy, maybe. It’s been about twenty-four hours since they made it official, after Quinn went to his game last night, and tonight he walks into the hockey party feeling like a new man. He’s wearing the freshly stolen Samwell Hockey hoodie of Sebastián’s that he managed to end last night by acquiring, with his one pair of jeans, if you can believe it.

He’s here on invitation, and although he was with Sebastián for several hours after the game last night, it feels like it’s been forever since he saw him. They had an away game today— or, as Sebastián calls it when they play off-campus, a roadie, not to be confused with Rhodey, the team’s nickname for Sebastián’s best friend, Ben (goodness, it must get confusing)— so, anyway, Quinn hasn’t actually seen his brand-new boyfriend all day. The game was only at Brown, so they didn’t have to stay in a hotel, and it landed them back on campus after a 3-0 win, according to Sebastián’s excited text to him earlier.

Sebastián♥️: we won!!!!! 3 to nothing. it was swawesome!!!!!!

Me: Congratulations!!🥰🥳

Sebastián♥️: thank you!! ❤️❤️ i miss you!

Sebastián♥️: come to the haus tonight? we’re throwing a kegster!

Quinn really has no idea why they’re called kegsters, but he shows up at the Haus after he eats dinner anyways.

It’s a hopping place, but maybe that’s just how the Haus always is after dark. Meeting up with Sebastián takes him all of two minutes, because he’s tall and loud and cute as can be, and when he sees him through the crowd, his face lights up, and he cries, “Quinn!” and then kisses him right in front of everybody and nothing in the world matters at all.

It’s been about an hour since he got here, or at least Quinn is pretty sure it’s only been an hour. Sebastián is drinking, but only a little, and the music is loud (Quinn has his volume turned way down), and the hockey guys are all being really nice to him, as he sticks to Sebastián’s side like glue. They dance a little, but Quinn is so awful at dancing when it isn’t choreographed that he laughs his way off the unofficial dance floor in the living room after half of a song.

Mostly, they just talk to other people. From a meeting over lunch at Commons last week, Quinn already knows Sebastián’s two freshman friends on the team, Ben and Remy, and of course he knows Tony, through Denice, as well. But tonight, he meets others— like the captain, the redhead, whose name is not actually Dex but Will, and his boyfriend, Derek; they remember him from the Halloween party. (“I found out they were dating in October,” Sebastián murmurs into his ear, one hand on his back, as they walk away after talking with them for awhile. “They’re really cute together. I basically want to be just like them when I grow up.”

Quinn laughs and goes to kiss his cheek as they walk through the ruckus. “When you grow up?”

Sebastián shrugs, and his smile in the party lights makes Quinn’s stomach turn inside out. “When I’m a senior.”)

Now, Quinn stands by a table, spectating over a rather intense game of cup pong. It’s Sebastián and Ben versus Remy and another player on the team, River, who has spectacular hair. He and Remy are a million times better at sinking their shots than Ben and Sebastián are, and the whole sight is mildly entertaining.

“Fuck!” Ben cries, when one of his attempts bounces off the rim of a cup and onto the floor. “I’m fucking cursed, I swear to God.”

“You have a serious problem,” Remy replies, retrieving the ball from the ground and dusting it off on his shirt. He passes it to River, because it’s his turn, and Quinn watches as his toss arcs perfectly over the table and lands with a plop in the closest cup on their side.

“Shit,” Sebastián laughs, because it’s his turn to drink, but the cup is only filled about a quarter of the way, so he downs it with minimal effort. Quinn laughs at the scene.

“You two are awful at this,” he remarks, looking up at him and Ben, and Ben feigns offense, putting a hand to his heart, while Sebastián laughs at the ceiling.

“You’ve only been dating him for a day and you’re already chirping his pong skills?” Ben shakes his head and lets off a low whistle. “Tough crowd, boys.”

“Here.” Sebastián presses the ball into his hand, and Quinn looks up at him to widen his eyes as he says, “You take a shot.”

“Yeah, show us what you got!” Ben is grinning from ear to ear. “Can’t chirp if you can’t back it up.”

Chirping, Quinn recalls, is hockey speak for teasing. He guesses he did ask for this. As he lifts the lightweight pong ball to the light and studies the cups across the table, he feels dozens of partygoing eyes all on him. The newcomer. The freshman. The boyfriend.

You know what? Screw it. He’s going to try.

“Okay,” he replies, stepping forward to get a better angle, and Ben hollers gleefully into the crowd. He looks over his shoulder to Sebastián for a second, who is smiling like crazy.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” he says.

The pure adrenaline of being called baby alone is enough. Quinn lines up his aim, squints, and sends the ball flying toward Remy and River’s triangle of cups.

It seems to move in slow-motion, but when it does land, with a plunk, it’s in their centermost cup.

The general vicinity around Quinn erupts. “OHHH!” Ben cries, jumping up and down, and Remy starts laughing hysterically at his friends. Quinn receives various high-fives and claps on the shoulder from people he doesn’t even know.

“Yo, he owned you,” River says, pointing to Sebastián and Ben, and then drinks the contents of the cup Quinn sunk it in. River nods to him, adding, “Good shot, frosh.”

Quinn falls backwards, into Sebastián’s waiting arms, and when he looks up at him again, Sebastián is grinning at him with something vaguely impressed in his eyes. He leans down to whisper, “That was kind of hot.”

There’s a flutter somewhere in Quinn’s stomach, and he grins back at him. “I’m afraid that might be the extent of my lucky frat party talents,” he replies. “Not to disappoint you or anything.”

“Oh, trust me, baby,” Sebastián mumbles. “There is nothing disappointing about you.”

The kiss they exchange after that doesn’t last quite as long as Quinn wants it to, but that’s only because they get a moment to themselves before Ben is shouting, “Hey, Nanny! Not to interrupt your gay hours, but it’s your turn.”

Sebastián pulls off of him and laughs, keeping him close to his chest. Quinn is dazed. He tastes like beer and sweat, and he wants… more of this, please.

He finishes the game of pong with Ben, and once it’s done, they make their way over to what could be considered the edge of the dance floor. There’s some random electronic song playing, and it’s musically atrocious but good for moving around to. Quinn hasn’t had a drop of alcohol tonight, nor does he plan on it, but parading around at Sebastián’s side like this is intoxicating all on its own. He’s here, with him, and it’s almost like Sebastián is showing him off, and it is beyond lovely.

“I’m an awful dancer,” Quinn confesses, as Sebastián is trying to get him to move with him to the music.

Inches away with his hands on his waist, Sebastián knits his brows like he doesn’t believe him. “You do theatre!”

“I’m awful at this kind of dancing,” he amends, hooking his hand around his hip. No one has ever touched him quite this much before. He doesn’t want it to stop.

“We don’t have to dance,” Sebastián replies. He looks past him, in the direction of the kitchen. “We could take a breather? Go find Ford and Tony?”

“Mmm…” So close to him in this crowd, Quinn isn’t so keen on the thought of leaving it. He steps a little closer to him and shrugs. “We could do that.” He pauses, tips his face up towards his, and meets his eyes in the low light. “Or we could stay here.”

He kisses him gently, at least at first, but Sebastián seems just as on board with the general idea as he is, because he pulls him very close all of a sudden, holds him tight with his big hands around his back. He still tastes like the party, and Quinn presses up against him, threading one hand through the slightly sweaty curls on his head. Sebastián’s lips are soft, but his kiss is anything but. It’s close, and warm, and so good, and Quinn has a feeling he’s about to leave the ground, but then—

“Nando.” The voice booms through the sound system over the music. Quinn jerks, and Sebastián pulls away to look up toward the noise— his teammate, the Swedish one who does the music, is holding his funny little DJ mic and looking right, directly at the two of them. “I’ve seen enough tonight,” the DJ continues. “Five dollars in the Sin Bin for that shit.”

Dispersed throughout the party, the hockey players heckle at this announcement. “Foooiiiiineeeee,” someone yells, and Quinn recognizes Ben’s cackle over the noise. The DJ gives them both a nod, waving his mic kind of menacingly, and Sebastián looks somewhere between amused and put on the spot.

“It’s a fucking kegster!” he calls, in the DJ’s direction, and puts Quinn down firmly on his feet.

Quinn has no idea what just happened. He winds his arms around his neck, watches the DJ laugh at Sebastián, and then cocks an eyebrow up at him. “Sin Bin?”

“God—” Sebastián shakes his head, squeezing him around the waist. “Okay, so there are fines on the hockey team? For PDA? I didn’t think I was going to get busted, but Louis just called me out.”

“Oh my goodness.” Quinn bites back a laugh. “So every time we kiss in public, you have to pay?”

“I mean.” Sebastián pauses. “I just got five dollars for the whole night, so, like. Not technically.” He looks around, then reaches for Quinn’s hand and pulls him a little ways out of the crowd. When they stop, they’re against the wall near the kitchen, close to the spot in the Haus where they met for the first time. Sebastián winds an arm around his waist, then adds, “But they’ll probably fine me again, given the opportunity.”

“So…” Quinn pauses, rests a hand on his chest. “Where does the money go?”

“Oh, anywhere,” he replies. “Dex mostly uses it to upgrade stuff around the Haus or buy things we need.”

“That’s…” He has never heard of a system like this in his life, but it sounds mildly entertaining. Except when it interferes with kissing his brand-new boyfriend at a party. “I don’t understand sports culture.”

“Sometimes, I don’t, either.” Sebastián kisses his forehead, in a manner that’s significantly softer than he was on the dance floor. “Are you doing okay?”

“Me?” Quinn raises his eyebrows. “Are you kidding? I’m great.”

“Oh.” Sebastián smiles. “Cool. Good. Okay. ‘Cause so am I.”

Tilting into his arm, Quinn looks around the room for a second. The DJ is still dancing around to his own beats, and Ben is nearby, talking to a girl Quinn recognizes vaguely as his Winter Screw date. They’re secluded, but the party is still hopping, and looks like it will be for the foreseeable future.

“Hey,” he says, lowering his voice a little, and rises on his tiptoes. “I have to tell you something.” Sebastián angles his ear towards him, and he cups his hand around it, all secretive, feeling silly and so, so head over heels all at the same time.

“There are no fines for kissing in my room,” he whispers, then pulls back to wink— and the knowing, flustered smile Sebastián returns is maybe the best sight he’s ever seen.

He’ll prove that. Later. But first, he’s going to enjoy the party.

[villainwaifu]

Jason finds his s/os sketchbook FULL of drawings of him. Some before they met and some after they met.

Hello, hello! Thank you for being my very first fic ask, horrorstreet! I hope you like this! ^^ It, ah...gets a little NSFW at the bottom. ><

It is also gender neutral, and...I apologize if a couple of the paragraphs are a light gray? Couldn't figure out what I did or how to fix it...

2,242 words (This is a small drabble for me…>>;; )

Jason x Reader

Happy Accidents

Jason knew he shouldn't...but...it was just lying there. Open. Tempting him. Maybe just a peek...you were out getting some more pencils and things from town…you'd never know. He reached out...but just before his fingers could skim across the textured page, he hesitated. Your disappointed face came to mind...and so did his mother's. She would never condone going through someone else's belongings without their permission. Or, at least, someone he actually cared about. The horny campers he killed didn't count- that was foraging.

With a heavy sigh from behind his hockey mask, Jason's hand dropped down to the bed. But...when it did...he caught the edge of that pesky drawing journal of yours, sending it to the floor with a clatter and a rustle of paper. Oh no… Oh no, oh no, oh no! All the loose pages dispersed all across the cabin floor! Curse his big, clumsy hands! At the very least, though...he was glad it happened here. This was the first cabin they had started to remodel...the roof was fixed, and so were the floors. They weren't splintered or rotten from mold and mildew, so there was nothing to ruin those precious drawings of yours… Now if only he could avoid stepping on them with his damp shoes to pick them up…

Jason bent and grabbed the drawing nearest to his shoes...and he nearly dropped it again. Was that...him? ...Yeah...there was no mistaking it. It was him...as a child. Smiling and splashing in the water on the bank of the lake. How did you know what he looked like as a kid? And when did you draw this? When he was out foraging? You'd asked if you could draw him before...but you always showed him your beautiful sketch when you were finished... He'd never seen this before, though...

Curious, he picked up the next nearest sheet to find a picture of him as a kid with his mother. A really pretty one done up like a fancy painting. How you could make him look...less like a monster and more human was beyond him… Jason gingerly ran his thick finger over his mother's face in the picture, eyes softening. You really did a good job on the details...she looked just like he remembered her to. A melancholic smile pulled at his lips as he gently set it aside after a moment and plucked another off the floor, finding a more recent picture he actually knew about. It was a side-facing picture of him at the edge of the lake with his mask on and bloody machete in hand. He carefully lifted another up, finding a more modern picture of him asleep at the base of his favorite tree...but, again, he'd had no idea you'd drawn this. How many more of those did you have..?

Twenty-seven. That was the total number of sheets scattered across the floor...and, of those, he'd only known about eight. Eight. The rest…were different renditions of him as a child, a teenager, and as he was now. Even more puzzling than your different drawings of him...were the dates he'd found scrawled on the backs of them. Most were drawn after you'd become his prisoner...then his friend...and lover. But some…were dated way back before they'd met. How long did you know about him before you became his? Was this something you had planned? Uncertainty and wariness gnawed at him as he stared at the paper-filled book in his hands. Surely...you weren't using him. Were you..? His chest hurt just thinking about it…

"Jason," you called, a big smile on your face as you slipped in the cracked door with a few bags in hand. That smile and excitement died down after you spotted him on the bed, shoulders hunched in and head bowed. He barely lifted his head your way in acknowledgement. "Hey...what's wrong..?" You dropped off the bags at the end of the bed and immediately went to his side, plopping down so close to him on the bed that your legs touched. There was a time he would have flinched away from you...but that time was long passed. He was cradling something sapphire blue in his large hands. "Oh...my drawing book?" The loose pages weren't stacked in as neatly as they were before, some sticking out at odd angles. "Did it fall?" He nodded once. Silly man. Getting all out of sorts over a little accident… "Thank you for picking it up for me." You gave him a bright smile, trying to cheer him up a bit...but his spirits didn't seem to lift. He was still hunched into himself. "Jason...what's wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything…" Okay, maybe not talking, exactly...their conversations mostly consisted of him pointing and grunting, while you played charades trying to figure out what he was trying to say. But you knew him now...and you knew him well. So...it couldn't be too hard to figure out…

"Nnnhh," Jason grunted, opening the drawing book and pointing to one that was dated months before they had met. Then at another a year before that. What does this mean? He cocked his head at you with a frustrated sigh.

"Oh...the dates...you saw that…," you visibly hesitated. How to explain it without sounding...crazy. And to do it relatively quickly. He was already shifting with impatience… "I...I'm afraid you won't believe me even if I explained it…"

"Hrrr," he growled. Even if you explained it? So you had no intentions of explaining yourself to him. What this meant. For the first time in years, Jason felt sick. He shoved the book into your hands and stood with another rumbling growl. He'd decide what to do about you later...right now...right now he needed to go kill something.

"Wait!" You caught his hand as he started to stalk off, your heart beating wildly in your chest. Jason stopped...but you could feel the tension stiffening his hand and wrist. Why did it feel like everything was crashing down around you..? Like this was it if he walked through that door? Panic made the words come tumbling from your lips. "The first time I drew you I was five years old." You felt your cheeks heating as his head tilted slightly to the side. Slowly, achingly so, he turned back to you. And you could just barely see his furrowed brow as he looked down at you, clearly confused and wanting answers. You let out a breath, anxiety building up in your chest as your fingers curled around Jason's much larger hand. There was no more hiding it now…

"I...I had dreams when I was little," you started, then paused. "Well, actually, I've had them most of my life. That's just when they started...and I didn't know until I was older that they were about you." You felt like you were rambling, cheeks burning hotter as you released his hand, glad he wasn't making a beeline for the door now. "I, uh...I started drawing you when I had the dreams...some were pleasant...and others...nightmarish." You shook your head, trying to shake off old feelings and fears. "But I was never afraid of you." You looked back up at him, locking eyes with his to try and show him you were being honest. "I saw all of the cruelty...I watched you drown...and I watched the lake bring you back." Heat started to build in the back of your eyes and the bridge of your nose. No! You were not going to cry right now!

Sniffling and looking down at your lap, where your fingers tightened around the drawing book, you continued. It was too much to think of all he'd been through… "I watched it all over and over in dreams over the years...and even the after times, when people disturbed you. It always made me angry. Why couldn't they just leave you alone..?" You gave a heavy sigh, wiping at the traitorous wet edges of your eyes. "For a long time, I thought you weren't real. Just someone I'd made up… I've probably drawn you hundreds...maybe even thousands of times. Most of them are in storage boxes in a unit that's most likely been sold by now." Your lips curved downwards. Some of your best works were in those boxes...but it's been months since you paid on the storage unit. It was inevitable. You chose this life after a couple of months of being his captive, leaving everything else behind. Living with the real Jason was so much better than anything you could ever draw...and you could always make more drawings...

"But I found out you were real when I was fifteen," you continued. "And I looked up everything that was left of newspapers and police reports...so much of it was vague. And there were hardly any pictures besides bodies being carried off and before pictures. They never put your picture in the papers…and that made me mad. You were the one who was victimized, you were the one who suffered...but it was always the instigators who got their faces plastered all over the papers." Your hands were gripping your book so tight your knuckles were white, fingers hurting a bit from straining them against the book. "I watched the news for this area for years while I learned how to hike and forage...and finished school. I'd worked and saved back some money, so I was able to get into an apartment after I got kicked out of the orphanage at eighteen." Nobody wanted a kid drawing and obsessing over a big bloody man...

"I worked...but I prepared to come here. This was my goal...to come here and meet you. The man I've dreamed about all of my life. The man I've drawn since I knew how to draw. The man I've fallen in love with over and over again in my dreams and in reality." Your cheeks were red hot by the end, your gaze a tad shy as you peered up at Jason. Sure, you'd confessed your love before...but never quite like this. With everything bare and raw, laid out before him. He knew everything now...and it was terrifying…

For a long moment, Jason just stared down at you. That wasn't the answer he'd expected. Far from it. And it was a lot to process all at once… You had dreamed of him..? Since you were little? It was strange...but no stranger than a lake reviving a drowned boy. Hm... If he learned anything over the years, it was that water holds and carries memories…it remembered when he couldn't anymore. And it brought back memories of his mother's face to soothe him and keep him going… Did it carry those memories to you? Did it bring you here because of his loneliness? Because it knew you would be good for him..?

He really didn't have much time to think on it. You looked so fraile and terrified...like you would crumble if he so much as touched you. And you...you said you loved him. You fell in love with him in your dreams...and reality. His heart felt warm as it jumped in his chest. He still didn't understand how someone as beautiful as you could love something like him...but...he loved you, too. So much it hurt. Jason knelt down in front of you, cupping your face in his large hands. A smile found its way onto his covered face as you closed your eyes with that little sigh of yours, leaning into his touch. He pressed his forehead to yours with a gentle hum, smile widening as your eyes fluttered open and you pressed your forehead back against his, rubbing your nose against the mask. Eskimo kiss. Jason chuckled. Your way of kissing him with his mask on was still amusing...and endearing.

"I love you so much my heart hurts," you whispered, feeling his hands slide down to your waist. He picked you up with ease and laid you back on the bed, crawling up over you. You raised your arm up, intending to push your drawing book up on the side table. Jason grabbed the book, helping you push it securely onto the table, his fingers dragging down the length of your uncovered arm after. You gasped, goosebumps erupting all down your arm. His hand kept on down until it was at your chest, groping and pinching at your nipple. Your back arched as you unclasped his mask and set it aside, his lips on yours just as soon as he was free. Hands gripping, pulling, grasping, pinching, his hard length grinding against your core. He didn't wait very much longer before sheathing himself deep inside of you. Your foreheads were pressed together, eyes locked as you shared the intimacy of that moment, that very first thrust in and pause, breaths intermingled, while your body stretched to accommodate his girth. You marvelled at how this all came of one tiny little accident as he pulled out and thrusted back in, taking his time and making love to you. One happy little accident that brought a hidden topic to light and brought you two so much closer...

- End -

[misssophiachase]

Omg can you please do a klaroline sports stars drabble? :)

Hey nonnie :) Thanks for the prompt. My computer decided not to work this weekend so I’ve had to do this on my phone. Apologies for any formatting errors. This was fun, hope you like it :)

Fire and Ice

XXIV Olympic Winter Games- Beijing, China

Feb 1, 2022, Capital Indoor Stadium,

7:17am

“Nice form, love,” he murmured. She was leaning against the rink post practice and not expecting him to be there, let alone so close. His hot breath tickling her ear wasn’t helping matters.

“Are you spying on me again? Do I need to get my bodyguard to kick your ass?” She asked turning around and taking him by surprise.

He was dressed in his navy, Team UK uniform, and Caroline had to admit he did it justice. It didn’t hurt that the shade of his uniform matched his eyes perfectly.

“You and I both know that Lorenzo St John couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I’m officially offended,” a familiar voice intervened, breaking their intense eye contact. “And what have I told you about calling me that, Niklaus?”

“Not to but I can’t help myself,” he smirked knowingly. “Especially when you feel the need to emulate my siblings when they’re not around.”

“Au contraire,” he argued. “Rebekah is on her way as we speak, your brothers not far behind.”

“That broomstick of hers certainly can go the distance,” he teased. Caroline couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“That’s not very nice,” he chided.

“If anyone is going to kick my ass it’s the wicked witch of the west, not you buddy.”

“We both know I could give you a run for your money, Mikaelson.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” he smirked, his left dimple making an unexpected appearance. “I suppose I should get to my training session so we can wipe the floor with your American teammates, Forbes.”

He was gone before she could defend the Men’s US Ice Hockey Team. He always was such an arrogant asshat.

“Why did you date him again?”

“Why must you remind me about my past indiscretions?”

“So you won’t repeat them,” he teased. “Although it seems like every time I turn around you’re rubbing up against each other like two very needy canines.”

“Yuck, Enzo! We were doing no such thing and, for your information, he approached me.”

“So, how do you explain that little incident in the elevator yesterday?”

Caroline blushed, unable to stop herself. One minute she’d been heading to training, the next her back was up against the lift wall and he was dangerously close to using those crimson lips in an entirely non innocent way.

Sometimes she hated that the attraction between them was so strong. It was like a curse. Given they lived on different continents their break-up two years earlier was easier but being thrown back together at the Winter Olympics was a distraction she didn’t need.

For Caroline the break-up was never about feelings, she still loved the idiot, but if she wanted to be the top figure skater in the word she needed to focus.

His recent reappearance was doing nothing to help matters.

“We were talking,” she spluttered unconvincingly.

“Yeah that’s how I talk to my friends,” he scoffed. “Look, Care Bear, you know me and Klaus go way back to Oxford University and I love him like an annoying brother but..”

“We need to stop talking.”

“Yeah if that’s what you call it,” he muttered. “I’m only looking after you both, it doesn’t help that you’re sports royalty and the media are well aware that you dated and are desperately hoping for an Olympic reunion.”

“Wow and I thought a gold medal was pressure enough,” she growled, her breath hitching in her throat as he effortlessly took the ice, hockey stick in hand. “Let’s get out of here before I freeze.”

“That look is anything but cold, Forbes,” he chuckled.

Olympic Village, 10:39pm

“Took your time, love,” he growled, pulling her inside his room and kissing her before she could speak.

His stubble tickled her cheeks as his lips explored hers. He smelled like soap and mint and she melted into him. He was warm and intoxicating and Caroline felt like she was floating.

She always did with Klaus.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, reluctantly pulling away. He kept his arms securely around her waist, a satisfied smile tugging at the edge of those crimson lips. “Enzo insisted on watching Legally Blonde and took ages to fall asleep. He’s like my very own guard dog. On another note, what are you wearing? Or not wearing?”

Naked except for a pair of grey, boxer briefs, Caroline was struggling to concentrate.

“You’re complaining?” She gave him a look which clearly said his arrogance wasn’t welcome. “I was taking a shower and then you knocked on my door, see my hair’s still wet.” He leaned in rubbing his cold locks over her face.

“Klaus!” He didn’t relent, finding her weak spot and tickling her mercilessly.

She attempted to wriggle free from his grasp and run away. He chased her around the hotel room and before too long they ended up limbs intertwined on the large couch.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. “I’ve missed you.”

Caroline sighed, knowing just how he felt. “I’ve missed us.”

“And just how good we are together.” His eyes were on hers now as his hands caressed her skin slowly. “Why did we break up again?”

“For our careers,” she replied, running her hands through his damp curls. “And yet here we are distracting each other right before the biggest moment of them.”

“I can’t quit you, love.” She smiled, despite the hurdles they faced. “Did you ever think that being apart isn’t doing us any favours professionally or personally?”

“Maybe, when this is all over, we reconsider our decision?” He didn’t reply but Caroline could tell he agreed by the way he was placing kisses along the length of her neck, his arousal rubbing against her teasingly.

Caroline stopped thinking, she just wanted to forget all about the competition right now and lose herself in him.

4:23am

Caroline couldn’t believe the time, she’d intended on going back to her room but had fallen asleep in his arms.

It wasn’t altogether surprising given how good they felt.

She haphazardly threw on her clothes and let herself out of his room. It was then that Caroline noticed a familiar figure walking towards her.

Hayley Marshall.

Her teammate but also her biggest rival. She mentally kicked herself for staying out past curfew.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she purred, a hint of triumph in those doe eyes.

Caroline didn’t bother responding, knowing there was no point in trying to appeal to her rival’s non existent sensitive side.

Not even five hours later and news of their late night rendezvous had found its way to the media. No doubt due to Hayley Marshall’s big mouth.

While the media was rejoicing in the possible reconciliation, her coach wasn’t. Caroline was put on strict curfew which meant no Klaus.

It didn’t, however, stop him sending cute, love notes via Enzo. She knew he was secretly a Klaroline shipper!

Fast forward two weeks and both Caroline and Klaus left with gold medals, their sacrifices for their careers worth it.

Well almost.

The King and Queen of the Ice made it official, marrying one year later with Enzo acting as celebrant.

It was only then that Klaus and Caroline knew their ultimate dreams had been realised. After winning multiple titles and medals between them they retired and had their very own hockey player and figure skater to continue the family tradition.