#but yeah like I wanna try the ice hockey team but I’m already running a different club and I don’t think I could do 4 days a week

[exopelagic]

ice hokcey

[slightlystupidhun]

Skating Around Us

Summary: An Asher x Baabe Fic. Asher is a hockey player and Baabe is a figure skater. @itsdaifuku is the reason for this fic!!!

*sorry this chapter is a bit long, I’m planing on having only one more chapter*

CW: Cursing, Suggestive

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

It was 11:00 and their warm up period had just begun. Everyone there for qualifiers were on the ice warming up their tricks. Skates, skated around the ice looking in the crowd for a familiar face. They met eyes with William, he waved and smiled. They returned the gesture before skating the ridge. They practice a few spins that they had set up to get a feel for the rink. After that they began working on their jumps. They were already feeling the nerves but what really sent them over the edge is when they fucked up a few of their easy jumps. True it was only warm ups, but they were a firm believer in precursors. As soon as the warm up period ended they changed out of their skates and ran to their car.

They paced back and forth headphones in their ears as their song played. They were panicking, they tried not to, but they were absolutely losing it. There was a lot of pressure on their shoulders not only to uphold Williams reputation, but also with the Alexis situation. They couldn’t let down their team. They had to be good enough. They felt their lungs compress, never able to fully fill up. They began shaking their hands to try to ground themself before leaning on the car, arms stretched out in front of them.

“You ok?” A voice broke them out of their thoughts. It was then that they saw a new figure in front of them. They were wearing grey running shoes, black sweats, and a black hoodie with the Dahlia Wolves logo, on the arms of the hoodie the word manager could be made out. Ah this was the infamous manager of the Dahlia wolves. They were often times called Sneaks because they were so elusive. Of course they were present to do what they had to, but they never really stick around after wards. And if they were sent on a task, good luck finding them before it’s fully complete.

“Yeah,” they looked up from where they were sitting against the car, wiping tears they didn’t know they had. “I’m fine! Just a tad bit nervous is all.”

“Can I?” Sneaks said gesturing to the side of Skates. When they nodded Sneaks sat down next to them. “I get… nervous too… so I know what this looks like… I mean don’t get me wrong. I know it’s different for everyone. But. Sometimes it helps to talk it out, and I’m here to listen if you wanna just get it out…” They offered a soft smile.

“You sure?” They looked over at Sneaks waiting for approval. When they finally got it they sighed. “I guess I’m just nervous because, we’ll it’s qualifiers, if I get out now I’m out ya know. And I just… I have to make it. And I can’t let William down, or Angel, or Vince, or Lovely. Especially since Alexis left last year. I can’t let the team tank. I have to qualify! If I don’t…”

“Then you’ll have next year.” Sneaks cut in placing a hand on their shoulder. “Listen, I saw you on the ice. I’ve seen you perform before. You have got raw talent that I haven’t seen in a long time. And typically I believe in ONLY hard work, not talent.” They joked. “But you’ve got it. Im sure you already know this but, the only way you could probably disappoint your team, is by not performing. You know this routine. You know the ice. You know yourself. It’s ok to feel nervous. It’s natural, but it’s also important how we deal with it. Nerves can be good, they can help you if you let them. So, chin up, let’s go inside because you need to get ready and support your team.” They stood reaching a hand out to help Skates up. By now it was 11:40 and time for Lovely and Vincent’s skate. Skates and Sneaks walked in together, only separating to join their respective teams. Skate took their spot beside William, shooting Vincent and Lovely a thumbs up. Sneaks took their seat beside Milo, wrapping their arm around his and interlacing their fingers.

Vincent and Lovely take to the ice, skating to Dreaming Of You, Selena Quintanilla. Vincent was dressed in all black. Black skates, black fitted high waisted pants that have a boot cut bottom, a black long sleeve shirt with an open collar, the front of his shirt was beaded, and his hair gelled back. Lovely was in an all white leotard with long sleeves. It had a long stretched of ruched fabric on the back. The front of their garment and their sleeves were covered in diamonds. Their skates were all white and the pair looked absolutely gorgeous together.

For their whole piece they were perfectly in sync. Even their footwork had perfect timing. The moment when Vincent lifted them up their back over his head, arms spread out, one leg bent, the other straight, had everyone cheering. They both looked so elegant. When the final chord played they held a pose of Vincent on his knees, arms wrapped around lovely’s waist, the side of his head pressed against their stomach. They were standing straight looking at Vincent, hands in his hair. After they held the pose for about three seconds they stood up and held each other in the warmest embrace. Lovely kissed Vincent’s cheeks and they smiled at each other. When they got off the rink they were greeted with cheers and hugs from their teammates.

They walked back to the locker room, Angel was getting ready for their piece at 12:30. They would go on the ice at 12:25 before their slot began. They were wearing a black leotard with wide sleeves that imitated a butterflies wings. The colors on the wings were lavender, baby blue, and mint green. Their eye makeup had gems stretching from their under eye around the crown of their forehead. They had on skin tone leggings that stretched over their skates to give a nude illusion.

“You look beautiful!” Skates chimed in.

“I know,” they joked before taking in a deep breath.

“You nervous?” Skates asked.

“Who wouldn’t be?” They smiled over at their friend. “But I’m confident in myself. I’ve got this… right?” They looked over for confirmation.

“Yes. You are one of the most amazing skaters I know! You are going to kill it!” They hugged their friend as they led them out to the ice. It was time. Angel entered the rink skating around it in circles a few times.

They would be skating to Butterfly by BTS. They got in their starting position on one knee arm wrapped around themself. As soon as the first few notes played they pushed off forward and demanded the space. They were so gentle, and fragile, yet so strong. They always emoted so well. Everyone in the stadium could feel the story they were telling.

David couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They practically glowed, they were the only person in that room right now. A small smile etched its way onto his face as he watched them. The entire team stared in shock. Wow, their very own, hard ass captain, David Shaw, was sparing a soft smile, a lovesick glance for the person in-front of everyone. Angel nailed all of their jumps, and their footwork was exactly what you would expect from someone under Williams teaching. They finished arms reaching up hands holding onto one another as they stared at the ceiling. They painted heavily before returning to themself. They quickly jumped up cheering, knowing they did amazing! They looked at the stands as they skated for the exit finding David’s gaze. They sent him a quick wink and blew him a kiss. The captain quickly rolled his eyes and averted his gaze, but they knew he reciprocated.

It was 1:15 and babe had 10 minutes before they needed to be on the ice. They had in black skates, with a green partial leotard, the left leg was a pant leg whereas the other wasn’t, the right leg had no pant. The left arm had no sleeve whereas the right arm had a sleeve that connected to their middle finger. Along the green garment there were swirls of diamond, as if someone had cast magic on it. They had black eye liner and green eye shadow paired with red lipstick. Their hair was pulled back out of their face but a strand was curled up around the edge of their face wrapping around their ear. They walked out over to the ice, hugging their team before they stepped on the ice. They skated around the rink a few times before skating back over to William.

“You got this.” He spoke up a gentleness encompassed his voice. “I am proud of you.” He smiled at them. They returned the smile back.

“Thank you,” they grabbed his hand before pushing off to the center of the rink.

“YOU GOT THIS BABE!!” Asher yelled out from the stands. Standing up with his hands cupped around his mouth. Milo immediately pulled him down, and Skates shot him a flustered, shy smile.

As they reached the center of the ice they draped one arm over their head, the other was dropped to their left side. Their head was facing down on the left as their left knee was also pumped. The crowd waited in anticipation. As soon as the first note from the brass rang out they looked up. Eyes lidded and a seductive grin on their face. Asher sat back hands folded in his lap and a grin on this face. They skated around the rink the cold wind brushing cross their face. They began their camel spin back leg pushed out hands behind their back, before turning upright and crossing their arms in front of them. They zagged along the ice swaying their hips, moving a hand from down their leg up their chest. They quickly moved down the ice perfectly completing a triple axel their leg whipping around behind them before they followed it with a double toe loop. They skated around the rink lifting one leg up and weaving down the side of the rink in a line. They demonstrated a perfect execution of the layback spin, their arm gracefully resting in the air. They began weaving again before moving to do their quad lutz and triple toe loop.

Asher watched in awe. They looked like a completely different person. They were so ethereal on the ice. Every movement from them radiated seduction, like they were actually putting a spell on him.

Finally it was time for their final leap, a quad flip, the same one that had messed up their wrist earlier that week. They lead up to it, had a good execution, great rotations and, and!!! They stuck the landing completing a perfect quad flip. Finally they concluded with a flying sit spin, ending leaning back on their knees, one hand on the ice, the other grasping their neck and jaw. They painted heavily, their lungs working overtime. The rink was quiet for a moment before all breaking out into cheers. They stood up, body exhausted and skated over to William and their team. Angel jumped up embracing them in the biggest hug.

“HOLY CRAP YOU WERE AMAZING!!” Angel screamed helping them back to the locker room.

“I’m very proud of you… see you on Monday,” William smiled at them breaking off into another direction.

“Ok where the hell did that come from!!” Vincent gawked at them ruffling their hair!

“You did amazing Skates!!!” Lovely added pulling Vincent away.

Angel and lovely hurried over to their bags. Angel changed long ago, now they were determined to help their friend change. They grabbed a cloth and wiped the sweat from their forehead before pulling of their friends skates. They threw the skates in their duffle bag. Skates then grabbed their running shoes and shoved them on. Angel left the room for a moment before returning back as Skates just finished taking a sip from their bottle.

“You got a visitor ‘Babe’” they teased laughing at the blush that crept on their friends face. Skates quickly threw their bottle in their bag, throwing the bag over their shoulder. Angel linked arms with them and walked out towards the exit, so they could finally see some sun.

As soon as the pair made it outside Skates saw the hockey team gathered together.

“We’re here!!” Angel yelled out. Immediately a blonde head of hair popped out and looked over at the pair. He immediately locked eyes with Skates and ran over to them. He picked them up embracing them in a hug. On instinct they wrapped their legs around his waist holding on tight.

“You were so fucking amazing!!” He said, face buried into their neck. They smiled shyly and moved to kiss his cheek as he set them down. They both had had many dates since their first date on Monday. They had grown so much closer and they were both falling for the other hard.

“Thanks…” they wrapped their arms around his neck.

“You got this babe!!” Milo mocked

“I love you Baaaaabe.” Tanker replied, dramatically placing their hand on their head.

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow Baaaaaaaaaabeee.” Sweetheart joined in.

“Shut up! You don’t even want me to bring up how you guys act!” Asher said embarrassed.

“Oh and how do I act?” Tank said glaring daggers at him. “I’m single. I don’t act like that, you’ve got nothing on me.”

Asher laughed staring at them in the eye. “Oh Dr.Collins, come save me!!” Asher mocked and Tank ran around Milo to get to him. Asher hid behind Babe using them as a human shield. “Dr.Collins, can you please fix my ankle? Dr.Collins you’re so funny!! Oh Dr.Collins!!!”

——

When the ice skating team arrived at the rink the Hockey players were already warming up. They were skating around the rink practicing shots.

“So which ones yours?” Vincent asked leaning into Angel. They smiled pointing to him

“Number 2…. David Shaw!” They replied

“Woah!! The captain, woow ambitious…” Lovely added on.

“Yeah, well, it would be ambition if I wasn’t such a catch!” They winked.

“And how about you? What number is yours Skates?” Lovely asked peering over Vincent to see Babe.

“Number 27…” They smiled to themself.

The game started about five minutes later and both teams got off to a pretty physical start. They were friendly rivals, but still rivals nonetheless. The first lineup saw Ash as left wing, Cristian as right wing, David as right defenseman, Tank as left defenseman, and Milo as goalie. It wasn’t long until the puck was on the Dahlia wolves side. Luckily Tank went in for a hefty check on the other player, sending them against the glass. The puck was then freed and David passed it up and over to Cristian who then sent it over to Asher. A breakaway. It was just Asher and the goalie. He quickly moved the puck to the side, causing the goalie to slide to the wrong side. He hit the puck in the net.

Babe jumped up and cheered along with Angel.

“LETS GO ASH!!” Babe yelled out as Asher sent them a toothy grin and a thumbs up.

“GREAT JOB DAVEY!!” Angel yelled, the nickname having the man flinch as his team slightly laughed. That was when they noticed the man to the right of Skates. It was Dr.Collins. Tank looked at him and waved and he gave them a small wave back and a smile before fixing his glasses.

The first period ended with a score of 2-1. Asher’s team was winning. The fifteen minute break between periods began giving them an option to talk to the doctor.

“Hey Sam!! How are you doing?” Vincent looked over at Sam.

“Im doing good and you?” Sam smiled back at him.

“Great!! We all made it passed qualifiers.” He paused. “Alexis made it too though.” He said huffing.

“I heard.” He said flatly.

“What happened between you two?” Lovely asked. “Not that you have to answer.”

“Nah it’s fine… she cheated on me. And in my own house so, I’m not really on talkin terms with her.” He rolled his eyes.

“Im so sorry Sam…” Angel spoke up.

“Yeah…. That’s horrible.” Skates added in.

“It’s whatever now… I got the chance to meet someone else… and I’m startin to feel better.” He smiled at them glancing at the players heading back out on the ice. Tank waved at him and he gave them a small wave back.

“Aww they are so sweet to you!!” Lovely added looking at the scene.

“Heh, they’re a goddamn menace.” He crossed his arms as the ref blew the whistle.

On the ice Ash bent down waiting for the puck to drop the Keaton player staring back at him.

“Hey, that hottie in the stands they yours?” The Keaton player asked.

“They don’t belong to anyone, but we are seeing each other, not that it’s what we’re supposed to be discussing right now buddy.” Asher replied.

It wasn’t long until Asher scored again. The second period ended with a score of 6-2. The players were being switched out and in through out the game. There was now five minutes left in the final period.

They fought for the puck and got it onto the Keatons side before one of the Keaton players hit the puck away to the other side. Icing. Ok, now the puck was paused on the Keaton side ready to be dropped.

“Hey pretty boy, I’m gonna make your partner mine tonight.” The player made a lewd gesture with his tongue and Ash growled. As soon as the puck hit the ground it was hit away behind the net, both Asher and the other player racing for it. Before the player could get to it Asher, who normally never commits any fowl, ran right into him. And hit him to the ground. The ref immediately blew the whistle and Ash got two minutes in the box for roughing. He smiled at the man now on the ground and skated over to the box.

“Wooow that was so attractive.” Vincent said following Skates eyes.

“Shut up!” They pushed him.

“It won’t be very attractive if I end up having to stay late due to someone coming into my office.” Sam sighed.

“Unless that someone is Tank.” Angel said and Vincent whistled suggestively. Sam sighed and rubbed his face. Asher watched the game from the box, now pleased with himself, despite David and his coach, not being pleased with him.

Finally when three minutes were left in the game Asher came back out onto the ice. He skated over to the bench as the coach subbed him out. He was subbed in one more time where he was able to score one final goal, leaving the score to be 8-3. Angel and Babe jumped up and cheered.

“Let’s go!!!” Angel yelled.

“Go Wolves!!!!” Babe continued.

After the team got out of the locker room Babe walked over to meet Asher, hugging him from behind.

“Great Job baby.” They smiled against his neck.

“You ok Ash?” They asked him.

“Yeah! And I don’t regret it. Getting in the penalty box I mean. He made a comment about you that I didn’t like, so I taught him manners.” He smiled and said that in a deceivingly sweet tone.

They walked together, hand in hand, to Skates car. Maybe they would get pizza tonight. Maybe some wings…. Maybe something else. All they knew is that they both had a great shot at finals.

[sehunniepotwrites]

let’s break the ice | m.l | two

🏒  SYNOPSIS— in which your college’s hockey team crashes your lunch plans after practice and you have to get away before dying of embarrassment 🏒 GENRE— fluff, humor, crack, college!au, ice hockey!au 🏒 PAIRING— ice hockey captain!mark lee x reader 🏒 WORD COUNT— 1.5k 🏒 WARNINGS— sexual innuendos made; povs switching during the same scene; cursing 

🏒 AUTHOR’S NOTE— oh shit, does that say part two?? l m a o

y’all asked for it, so here it is! i’m turning this into a mini-series featuring random snapshots of mark with his love interest! no regular updates, the parts are just going to be randomly uploaded as we go. surprise surprise! i have a couple of moments planned already, so stay tuned! (i’m still working on the requests i have left as well as my other wips, please be patient with me!)

< prev | next >

You take that back, you absolutely hate hockey. More specifically, you hate the handsome devils that make up NCT U’s team and how they turned your meal with Jaemin and Jeno to a team dinner. 

You hate how they are relentless in their teasing and force you into a chair right next to their captain. And you absolutely despise how all eyes are on you as Mark tries to strike a conversation with you.

The group decided to forgo your original plans of eating at a Thai place, opting to visit the local diner they frequented instead. You felt sorry for the person waiting on your group; having to deal with a loudmouth team that wanted to split the check was always a struggle. They just smiled as they readied your seating, pushing several tables together to accommodate your group. They quickly took your drink orders, the others ordering milkshakes and sodas while you and Mark just asked for waters. Your friends mocked you for even getting the same drink and it just went spiraling from there.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Mark whispers under his breath, hand coming up to cover his small face. “They’re being dumb. I’ll tell them to stop.”

He’s leaning his body towards yours and you feel the team’s stares as you move to cover your mouth. “Are they like this all the time? I mean, I know Jaemin and Donghyuck are but the rest, questionable.”

He rolls his brown eyes to convey his extremely annoyed state, “They’re nosy assholes, all of them.” Mark shoots his mates a glare that’s meant to be intimidating but it’s far from that off the ice. He looks like an upset little puppy, face crinkled and eyes rounded in the cutest way. You want to pinch his cheeks but you refrain from doing so. 

“What are you two lovebirds talking about?” Donghyuck smirks from the other side of the table.

From beside him, Yangyang adds, “Yeah, share with the whole class!”

Mark groans— he can’t believe he has to deal with two loudmouths in his team. He looks to the older members: Sicheng is just silently grinning and Ten is wiggling his brows at the captain. The only one’s looking sorry for him are Jeno, the ever-so-sweet one sitting beside his boyfriend, and Sungchan, the shy new addition to the team. 

Jaemin, sitting on your right while Mark is squished on your left, laughs, “You’re not talking about being smashed by him, are you?” He’s obviously taking pleasure in your pain. You don’t think they’re ever going to let that go.

You smack him across the arm and he winces at the stinging contact, surprised by your strength. “Oh my god, stop! No one was supposed to hear that!”

“And yet, everybody did,” Yangyang says teasingly, eyes slotted and mouth upturned into a shit-eating grin. You don’t think he should be talking, you’ve seen his struggles with the person in the dinosaur mascot suit but that’s another story.

“Let’s just forget everything about that, please!” 

“I, uh, agree,” Mark says, clearing his throat. He smiles nervously at you and you return it with a shy one of your own. God, how can one person be so attractive? 

“So cuuuuute,” Donghyuck coos and the other players follow, loving the way their captain cringes at their voices. Not being able to take it anymore, you put your face in your hands as Jaemin joins in on the commotion. 

What in the world did you do to deserve this treatment, you wonder as your face heats up in your hold. You’re at the point where yanking your hair out sounds like a better time than dealing with the jokes the boys are throwing your way. You don’t know how much more of this you can take. 

You feel Mark shift in his chair. He brings his lips to your ear to ask, “Do you, uh, I don’t know, maybe, wanna get outta here?” 

His voice is low, soft, and comes off as a bit timid as he presents the question but it still sets the butterflies free in your stomach. They’re flying around, tickling you in the weirdest way but you don’t mind— it’s been a while since your heart fluttered like this.

Biting back a huge smile, your cheeks make your eyes curl into little slits as you nodded enthusiastically. “Oh my god, yes please,” you answer as you scramble for your belongings. 

Mark wastes no time, pushing his metal chair out from under the table before pulling yours out. He grabs his team jacket and slings it over his shoulder before guiding you out the door, his hand gripping tightly onto yours. The group of boys yell at you to come back and you ignore them, too busy reeling at the feeling of Mark’s hand in yours. It’s warm and inviting, the way his fingers wrap around your smaller palm. 

The cold autumn breeze hits you as soon as he opens the door and it gets worse when you’re running down the street so one of the boys can’t chase after you. You’ve made it two blocks before you stop running and that’s when Mark finally notices that he’s still holding on tightly to your hand. 

“Oh, I, um, sorry,” he mumbles as he rushes to let go. His high cheeks are turning red and it clearly shows how flustered he is.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a giggle. 

The wind blows through the holes in your knit sweater and you shiver at the sudden cold. Ugh, why didn’t you think to bring a thicker jacket?

Mark notices and he immediately takes action. “Oh, here,” he says before taking his team jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You quickly try to tell him it’s okay and shrug it off but he insists on you wearing it, a small grin peeking out on his lips. He watches you slip your arms through the blue sleeves and pull your hands out through the orange and white lined ends.

Before you could get to it, the blond hastily zips the jacket up to the very top for you, his knuckles brushing against your chin. It leaves your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, fighting its way to come out. Mark takes a step back to admire the sight of you in his clothes— his last name embroidered on one side rests proudly against your chest and it looks damn good on you. 

“T—thanks,” you stutter, not used to being treated this way. The move was so incredibly sweet and you think it’ll live in your mind for the rest of your life, rent free, along with all the other cute things he does.

Mark’s grin widens. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he replies, glad he’s not the one stumbling over his words for once. Maybe he’s staring at you in his jacket longer than he needs to but you don’t mind, not when he’s looking at you with shining eyes you want to get lost in. 

You don’t though, your little moment being interrupted by the loud growling of your empty stomach. Your eyes become circles and you’re suddenly burning up in his jacket. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you let out an uneasy laugh.

Mark’s bright laughter fills your ears and soon, you’re joining in too, quiet giggles shaking your body. 

He clears his throat and scrunches his nose at you. It’s an endearing look, you think, as you save the sight in your memory. “C’mon, let’s go get you some food,” he chuckles, slipping his hand into yours once again. 

Mark leads you down the street, a loose grip on your hand, and he hopes you don’t feel how clammy his palms are through your sweater paws. His eyes are darting to anything and everything but you, too scared to look you in the eye. He thinks if he spares one more look at you, he’ll combust. 

“You were gonna get some Thai food, right?” Mark asks. 

You glance at him and nod in agreement, “Yeah, there’s a place Jaemin and I usually go to. We were just gonna head there.” You tell him where it’s located and it’s a bit of a long walk. He didn’t mind though, he quite enjoyed holding your hand.

You don’t see it but Mark secretly pumps his fist when you initiate the interlocking of your fingers. The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting, you don’t think you ever want to let go.

Peeping over at him, you catch him do the same to you at the exact same time, right down to the second. He blinks at you, eyes widened in shock and another burst of laughter bubbles through you, entertained at how ridiculously shy the both of you were. 

Seeing the university’s golden boy as fumbly as you were in this particular moment relaxes a bit of your nerves, though. Many people see the famous Mark Lee as this picture perfect student athlete but during this moment, you just see him as a boy.

You’re just a girl walking time with a boy and you think nothing else could ever beat this moment. 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2020

[parvuls]

fic: need seek no further

Jack shrugs. “Eh. Bittle likes Cabot butter best.”

a disgustingly fluffy, plotless ficlet about how well jack knows bitty and how he perfected the skill of nonverbal communication through the force of sheer will. also, the frogs.

read on ao3

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Dex called Bitty one evening in early May, let Bitty shower him with hellos, and then stated, “We won the NCAA championship.” He said it matter-of-factly, like maybe Jack and Bitty hadn’t been there when it happened, like Jack hadn’t watched him cling to Bitty for a full minute after the stands had spilled onto the ice.

“You did,” Bitty replied, raising his eyes to meet Jack’s with confusion wrinkling between his brows. His phone was set on the kitchen island between them, Dex’s voice filling their kitchen through speaker phone while Bitty’s floured hands were busy kneading dough. Jack was keeping him company on another last-minute testing session for his rhubarb pie recipe, even though the last proof of his book had been approved by his editors over two weeks before. Jack was running out of team members to send leftovers to.

“And Whiskey got voted captain,” Dex continued.

Jack watched as Bitty squinted down at his phone. Bitty had spent half an hour on the phone with Whiskey the night of the banquet; he hadn’t disclosed the details of their conversation to Jack, but his face when he’d returned to their room, had sat down next to Jack on the bed and had leaned his forehead on Jack’s bicep for a long while -- Jack had seen that face before. Had known that expression meant pride.

“So we were talking about it just now,” there was the sound of more people whispering furiously in the background, and Jack thought he could maybe hear Chowder’s unsteady voice calling out, hey Bitty!, and only then he began contemplating the solid possibility that Dex may have been a little drunk. “And -- so we won last year, with you, and now we won again, and we wanna keep winning, right? So we gotta make sure to keep doing everything that’s working.”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Bitty said agreeably, faintly amused. It was obvious to Jack from his tone that Bitty, at least, had already realized Dex was a little drunk, but was only too happy to play along.

“‘Swawesome,” Dex said fervently, like Bitty had agreed to something very important. “So you see why Whiskey’s gotta learn to make a pie.”

That stopped Bitty in his tracks. Jack blinked, watched Bitty’s long fingers halt their motions in the dough, the pressure of his fingerprints leaving crescent grooves behind. “William Joseph, that doesn’t make a lick of sense,” he said, and narrowed his eyes at the screen of his phone like Dex could feel their weight on him through the line. But then he seemed to think it over again, and the pitch of his voice rose as he demanded, “Wait, are you sayin’ Whiskey’s willing to learn how to bake?”

“He says he’ll do it for the win,” Dex said, and Bitty gaped at the phone, then gaped at Jack, and with his cheeks pink and his eyes wide he exclaimed, “Of course I’ll do it!”, like there’d ever been any other option to consider.

Jack kept it to himself, but he had no doubt in his mind that there hadn’t been.

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Dex, Chowder and Nursey wait for them at the doorway of the Haus, broad shoulders wedged together in the narrow doorframe.

Bitty had said before they left home, “You don’t have to come, sweetpea,” and Jack had said, simply, “I want to,” and had meant it. It was only in the summer months that Jack had the privilege to see his friends whenever he wished to, and now that the Falconers were out of the playoffs -- well, Jack was feeling a little more withdrawn lately, even quieter than usual, but this felt like something he genuinely wanted to do with the time on his hands. There was also the fact that soon the frogs would graduate, and with them gone Jack would be too far removed to visit the Haus comfortably, even if Bitty still could.

Right now Jack could, and he wanted to, so Bitty and he got in Bitty’s car and drove the forty-five minutes down to Samwell, Bitty’s phone hooked through the aux and his hands tapping on the wheel to the beat. He was nervous, although Jack wasn’t sure exactly why -- only knew it was obvious in Bitty’s restless hands and the frequency he switched songs midway through. Jack reached out and placed his hand on Bitty’s thigh, squeezed, and let Bitty burn his nervous energy whatever way he deemed best.

“We did all the shopping!” Chowder announces as Jack and Bitty walk up the porch steps, and then immediately bounces forward and wraps Bitty in a hug. His long limbs envelope Bitty within them, and soon Jack’s dragged into their circle, too, feels Nursey’s arms fold around his shoulders and Dex’s tentative hand patting him on the back. It doesn’t overwhelm him like it could’ve, maybe, a year or two ago -- it just feels nice, familiar, welcoming. A display of affection he readily returns.

When the huddle breaks, the five of them shuffle through the door and head straight into the kitchen. It looks about the same as it has since Bitty took over it five years ago -- no longer just a room with a fridge full of beers and a broken down table, but a real kitchen, with Suzanne’s hand-sewn curtains and clear countertops and the oven that Jack is still irrationally fond of. Although it seems like it’s been revamped in the months since Jack has last seen it; the cupboards’ hinges are no longer busted, and there are actual shelves stacked along the walls. Jack assumes the likely suspect is Samwell Men’s Hockey current captain, and has to curb a revealing smile that would surely draw questions. It’s another unspoken team tradition, Jack thinks, recalling freshman Will Poindexter: no one leaves it entirely unchanged.

“Y’all are joining us for some baking lessons?” Bitty asks Nursey and Chowder, hand almost unconsciously drifting over the edge of the counters. He looks good there, really, looks right. He’s not the same as he was when he graduated and certainly not the same as when he first claimed this kitchen, but to Jack, Bitty would always look right in the sun streaming through the Haus’ dusty windows, puttering between pots and pans.

“Nah, C and I will get out of your hair for that, but Whiskey isn’t back yet so we’ve got some time. And anyway --” Nursey glances sideways at Dex and Chowder, fails at stifling a smile, “uh, the waffles heard you were coming today, Bits.”

“Going by their reaction, they’ve definitely missed you,” Dex says, arms crossed over his chest, his face serious but a single upwards quirk to the corner of his mouth. It could be a chirp at the waffles, maybe, but Jack is almost certain that it’s sincere nonetheless.

Bitty turns to the shopping bags spread across the counter and starts picking them apart, taking out the ingredients for inspection before setting them down with that same nervous energy, the one that rarely ever follows Bitty into his domain in the kitchen. Jack watches him smile at Dex, honest but jittery, and realizes what he should’ve already known -- how very important it is to Bitty that this goes perfectly.

“Oh, bless them, I’ve missed them too! I’ll tell them hello so we can get started right after,” Bitty says, setting down a bag of brown sugar and taking out a packet of butter from the bag. He looks -- momentarily disappointed, and Jack frowns, searches Bitty’s face. It’s probably only visible to Jack, who recognizes the subtle shift in Bitty’s jaw and the fleeting movement of his eyebrows, but still. He follows Bitty’s eyes down to his hands and to the butter in them, and surveys it for a moment, deep in thought.

“You’ve got two seconds to prepare yourself, bro,” Nursey warns, and then Bully, Hops and Louis descend loudly into the kitchen, flock around Bitty like ducklings. Bitty’s always had that effect on hockey players, on people, even before he got the C. It’s with intense fondness that Jack thinks it, knows the feeling intimately as someone who’s lucky enough to experience that affect every day. He can’t blame them for the way they beam down at Bitty, fight for his attention, laugh when he laughs at the rising volume of their clashing, simultaneous stories.

It’s a good opportunity if nothing else, though, so Jack shoulders his way between Bully and Louis, brushes two fingers over Bitty’s elbow to get his attention. When Bitty turns his head, Jack takes advantage of his height to lean in and say into Bitty’s ear, “Hey, bud, I’m stepping out for a moment.”

Bitty smiles at him, reaches up to stroke a hand down Jack’s cheek just warmly enough to be soothing, just quickly enough to be appropriate. “Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and thinks, it will be. He pauses, looks down threateningly at the waffles, and leans in to kiss Bitty's temple swiftly, before someone he can’t intimidate as easily as these sophomores could try fining him for it. The space he leaves between Bully and Louis closes as soon as he leaves their side, Bitty disappearing from sight behind their tall forms, but the sound of his cheerful laughter rings after Jack as he walks out of the kitchen and exits through the front door.

.

.

.

When Jack comes back he has to open the door one-handed, the other one busy clutching the handles of a grocery bag. His cap is pulled down low, a protective measure from the crowd that swarmed the Stop and Shop on Pemberton, so it takes a few steps into the Haus’ hallway for him to notice Whiskey hovering in the kitchen doorway, apparently stopped right on his way out of it.

“Jack,” Whiskey looks surprised -- or maybe still mildly star-struck, Jack has always had trouble telling with his face. “You’re here. I haven’t seen you.”

“Got some stuff from the shop,” Jack raises the bag by way of explanation, adjusts his hat, and after a brief moment of stillness hunches his shoulders to bypass Whiskey into the kitchen.

Whiskey bends his neck to peer down into the bag as Jack passes. He looks somewhat horrified at what he finds, as much as Whiskey ever betrays his emotions -- a slight frown, a barely noticeable widening of his eyes. “We need more groceries for this thing?”

Jack shrugs, noncommittal. They don’t, really, but. “Eh. Bittle likes Cabot butter best.”

The frogs and waffles have moved to the den while Jack was out -- he can hear them now, Bully’s low voice and Chowder’s quick speech and Hops’ rolling laughter -- but Bitty must’ve heard Jack come in, because he appears next to Whiskey in the kitchen doorway. His gaze darts between the two of them before it lands on the bag hanging from Jack’s fingers, and Jack reaches in to pull out one stick of butter, holding it out so Bitty can see the brand. Bitty’s eyes light up when he realizes, go round and bright, and he declares, “Sweetpea, you shouldn’t have!”, in the tone that means he’s beyond pleased that Jack did.

“That's more butter,” Whiskey says, staring at Bitty and then at the butter already stacked on the counter from the frogs’ shopping trip, clearly bewildered.

Jack twists his body, turns his back to them to find an empty spot somewhere on the counter. “Cabot has a half percent more fat, and Bittle likes his crust flaky,” he explains absently while emptying the contents of the bag onto the spot he chose. It’s important to Bitty that this goes perfectly, and while Jack can’t control Whiskey's abilities in the kitchen, wouldn’t be able to fix baking mishaps if those occur, this is something he can do. Make sure Bitty has the best conditions to work in, grant him a little peace of mind.

When he turns back around Whiskey is gone, and it’s only Bitty standing behind him, his eyes twinkling and his lips parted slightly.

“What?” Jack asks, confused.

There’s a long stretch of silence while Bitty just looks at him. Jack’s rarely comfortable with intense scrutiny from others, but Bitty -- Bitty’s gaze is soft, and he looks at Jack like he’s something good, something to admire. It’s a look he gives Jack often, usually accompanied by the gentlest of kisses, the warmest of hugs, the kindest of words. Sometimes Jack’s mind is slow to catch up, too stubborn to be convinced of his own worthiness, but this is the look Bitty gets when his emotions are broadcasted so loudly that even Jack’s mind has to pipe down and listen.

Bitty takes a few steps closer, grabs Jack’s palm between both his hands. “Marry me?” he asks breathily, with a smile curling at his lips.

Warmth flutters in Jack’s stomach at the words, and an answering smile grows on his own lips. The ring glints on Bitty’s finger whenever he moves his hands, is glinting now, where his fingers are curled around Jack’s in the sunny kitchen. It’s been a distraction many times in the past year, but each time Jack sees it he’s reminded of what Bitty and he have promised to each other. The future that is still to come.

There’s no one in the kitchen but them, and the Haus residents sound busy enough in the other room that no one would notice if Jack stole a lone moment. “Sorry, I can’t,” Jack deadpans, grabs Bitty by his hips and gathers him into his arms. His fingers slide over the soft fabric of Bitty’s clothes and find the gap between his top and his shorts, dipping inside to rub against Bitty’s warm skin. “It’s a tempting offer, but I’m already engaged.”

“Leave him, then,” Bitty says without missing a beat. He tilts his head up to nudge Jack’s cheek with his nose, wraps his strong arms around Jack’s neck. His face is so close to Jack’s that Jack can count his pale eyelashes, can see the splotches of fading pink on his skin. He’s been spending a lot of time editing his cookbook on their balcony since springtime has arrived, and his body tans nicely but the bridge of his nose has been reddened and peeling for a while. “Run away with me.”

Jack can’t help the temptation, kisses Bitty’s right cheek and then his left one. “Sorry, bud.”

“Why ever not,” Bitty sighs, most dramatically, and uses his grip on Jack’s neck to lean his upper body backwards. “A man who knows his butters? You better believe I’m willing to fight for you, mister.”

It’s the sincerity in his voice that has heat prickling across Jack’s skin, raw pleasure squirming in his chest. It’s a futile battle, though, a battle Jack realized was lost when he dropped Bitty off at this very Haus after their very first summer together, longingly watched him skip up the stairs and thought, oh, I wanna marry him. “I can’t,” he tells Bitty quietly, pulls him closer so the words stay trapped between them, rough and intimate like a secret. “I love my fiancé too much.”

“Oh,” and Bitty flushes at this, red blossoming on the apples of his cheeks like he’s flattered -- like the ring around his finger hasn’t been there for a year, like Jack hasn’t taken to kissing it before kissing Bitty goodbye on nights he leaves for games; like Jack loving him too much to ever consider anyone else is still a novelty, a compliment, after all this time. “Well. Lucky him.”

Lucky me, Jack thinks, and bows his head to fit his mouth to Bitty’s in for a lingering sweet kiss.

[13uswntimagines]

Loser Buys Dinner (Lindsey x Reader)

Request: team goes to an ice rink and the reader is really good at ice skating and the team didn't know. you can add a pairing if you want

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog​!!! Also this one has a slightly awkward ending, but we thought it fit. 

You stared at the sign as Kelley brought the car to a park. Ice Town skating rink blazed in neon letters as the outline of a skate seemed to circle around them. Around you, you heard the chattering of your teammates as they registered where you had come for today’s team bonding activity. They at least were excited. You unbuckled your seatbelt and followed Rose out of the car, still not taking your eyes off the neon image circling around your vision. It was fine. Today would be fun. 

“Hey fun size, you excited?” Lindsey bounced up to walk at your side. You flicked your head slightly to clear your thoughts and turned to smile quickly at her.

“I guess. It’s definitely been a while since I’ve ice skated.” 

“Don’t worry,” Lindsey said grinning, “I’ll stay with you the whole time if you’re worried about falling.”

“I won’t fall,” you said matter of factly. Lindsey raised an eyebrow. Before she could challenge you to a competition that she would lose, you said “if anything I’m worried about you. If you fall you’ll get frostbite.”

If Lindsey was concerned about the cold, she didn’t show it. She was from Colorado and was quite used to the terrible temperature. While Kelley had instructed everyone to wear layers, Lindsey was only wearing a jacket and flannel over a pair of skinny jeans. She grinned at your comment and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. What’s it going to be, like 30 degrees?”

“Yes. That is literally the temperature ice freezes at.”

“It’s just your California blood that makes you chill faster,” she smirked, elbowing your side. 

You rolled your eyes at her and entered the building. As the smell of the ice rink washed over you you inhaled deeply through your nose and exhaled through your mouth, intentionally relaxing the muscles that had tensed up at the memories the smell elicited. You still felt your spine straighten from habit, but chose to ignore it. 

“Are we sure this is a good team bonding activity. Like what if we break our legs before the game?” Rose asked, strapping a skate on her foot. She had always been the clumsier of the team. 

“We ran it by the coaches and they signed off on it so long as we’re all willing to be serious. Looking at you Sonnett. No fooling around on the ice. There are walls to hold onto if you feel unbalanced Rosie, but it’s a good chance to practice our flops if you feel like you’re going to fall. Remember- fall back and protect your head.” Carlie said with a grin.

“And then you want us to roll on the ice for the pretend ref?” Lindsey asked, quirking her eyebrow up at the ludicrous implication. There weren’t going to be any hands going near any skate paths. 

“The pretend ref would assume you were throwing a temper tantrum if you did since NO ONE will be skating at each other,” Beckey said, looking up from tightening her skate to catch the eye of each troublemaker on the team. 

Emily frowned, there went her idea of trying to joust with their umbrellas. 

“You alright?” Lindsey asked, sliding her hand along your lower back. 

“Yeah,” you said, looking at the rink logo imprinted in the center of the ice. 

“Well you’re kinda blocking the entrance to the rink,” Lindsey said very close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. When did she get so close to you?

You blinked away the feeling of a spotlight and thousands of eyes in your back to look back at her. Then you grinned slowly, “Just… creating some anticipation.” 

“I know you Californians probably don’t know much about moving on the ice, but you’re not supposed to just stand and stare at it,” she said, kissing your cheek. “just remember that I won’t let you fall,”  

You raised your eyebrows at her, then turned around fully to face her, still blocking the entrance intentionally. “Wanna make a bet Linessie? Because I think you’ll fall more than I do today.”

“In your dreams short stuff,” she snorted, refraining from saying that she had fallen for you already. 

“You taking the bet or not?” You said, a little louder this time so that you caught the attention of Emily and the rest of the youngins.

Linsey’s grin grew to match your own, “I’m always game, you know that,”

“Loser has to eat like Carlie for a week?” You proposed, sticking out your hand for her to shake.

“Hm, those stakes aren’t high enough. Loser has to eat Alex’s weird vegan shit for a week,” Lindsey said, her lips ticking up at your scrunched nose. 

“That would be cruel. I’m not doing that to you. Loser pays for winner’s Costco run?” 

“I think you’re just scared you won’t be able to eat ice cream for a week,” Lindsey scoffed, crossing her arms. 

“Okay, I tried to go easy on you,” you said, shaking your head dramatically. “If you’re willing to eat like Alex for a week, I’ll take that bet.”

“You’re on pipsqueak,” Lindsey shook your outstretched hand, squeezing it a little too tightly. 

You grinned at her and holding her gaze stepped backward onto the ice, crossing one foot over the other to gain speed as you glided to the center of the floor. 

It felt natural, as though the last 12 years had only been 2. You did a quick counter turn, letting the muscle memory carry you over the ice. You did a twizzle and grinned. Not too shabby. 

“Holy fuck,” Lindsey said, her jaw dropped as you glided effortlessly across the ice. So much for her plan to be your hero on the ice. Your protector from the cold. 

“Shoulda pretended you were the terrified one,” Emily snickered, bumping her lightly as she passed her. You may be oblivious to Lindsey’s feelings, but the rest of the team was not. 

Lindsey shook her head and skated off after you, not as smooth on the ice as you were, but pretty damn close. She had always preferred hockey over figure anyway. She easily caught up with you, skating relatively close behind you. 

You saw her and turned, arabesqueing a leg into the air behind you. Then you leaned into a tight camel spin so you looped around Lindsey as she moved. 

“You forwards are always such show-offs,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, catching your outstretched hand once both feet were back on the ice and pulling you close to her. 

“Cause diving headers and Bicycle Kicks are totally not showing off either,” you said, scrunching your nose at her. 

“How did a Cali girl like you learn to skate?” She asked, moving so she was behind you again, holding your waist as you skated. 

“Some way most girls who don’t live in a frozen wasteland do,” you said, shrugging. “I took lessons.”

“Wasn’t action-packed enough for our little firecracker?” Lindsey questioned and you could practically hear her eyebrow ticking up. 

You fought to keep your smile normal. “Believe it or not, there was a time when I wasn’t a firecracker and didn’t like being the center of attention.”

“Not a firecracker, impossible. I’m pretty sure most defenses are terrified of you, especially after you made that English defender pee her pants when she went after Mal,” Lindsey carefully pulled you into her chest resting her head on your shoulder, mindful that you two were still hurtling along the ice. 

You grinned. “Well, she deserved it.” You leaned out to the side then in again, pulling you both into a gentle spin. “But yeah, around middle school I dropped out of skating. My partner for pairs skating broke his ankle skateboarding and,” you paused, trying to find the words to explain, “I just really didn’t like singles.”

“Is it bad that I’m glad he got hurt? Cause now I get to be your pairs partner and you never have to be single again if you don’t want…” Lindsey mumbled, glad that you weren’t facing each other. She wasn’t sure she could have looked you in the eye and finally shot her shot. 

“Well, I am known for being a damn good team player, even if I am a showoff,” you nudged Lindsey playfully. “But I refuse to eat vegan for a week. I need my chocolate icecream.”

“Well,” said Lindsey with a dramatic sigh, “how about we amend the bet. Loser pays for dinner on the first date?”

Lindsey waited just a second for your agreement, enjoying the feeling of you in her arms, and then she gently pushed you away. You slid easily across the ice, turning just in time to see Lindsey “trip” and fall to her knees. 

“Guess I’m buying,” she said smirking up at you, her blond hair framing her face. 

“It’s a date loser,” You smiled so wide, your pink cheeks started to hurt. 

“You’re supposed to flop backward, Linds,” Carlie called across the ice.

[beauvibaby]

table for two – a.beauvillier

a/n: a little fic I threw together that I really love 🥺 it’s not proofread tho

“A forty minute wait?” You tried to hide your disappointment, it had been a terrible day at work, your feet were aching and your stomach was on the verge of growling. “Yes, I’m-“ the hostess stopped herself, she glanced over to the only other single party here, “give me just a moment.” She gave you a smile before rushing off. You sighed dramatically, pulling your phone out. The only reason you were so stuck on eating here is because you had a gift card and didn’t want to cook tonight. You glanced up as the hostess approached you, “we have a table for two available, if you don’t mind sitting with this gentleman.” She explained, motioning to the guy sitting in the corner, he had an optimistic smile on his face. He clearly had a much better day than you, as you were about to turn down the offer, your stomach clenched, reminding you how long it had been since you ate.

“Yes. I’ll sit with him.”

You stayed silent, following them to the table, the guy shot you a soft smile as he sat across from you, he seemed like a nice guy, his eyes showed his genuineness. The bright blue only making them more vibrant, you mirrored his smile, crossing your legs under the table. “So, how are we playing this? Awkward silence while we listen to each other eat, or are you going to tell me your name?” He spoke up as you hid behind your menu, you raised an eyebrow at his forwardness, although you could hear a slight nerve in his tone. “You first.” You laughed softly, lowering the menu to reveal your whole face. “Anthony.” He grinned, the name fit him, his smile wide and bright as he looked over at you, not having even picked up his menu yet. “Y/N.” You spoke, glancing between him and the menu, he chuckled at your obvious desire to eat, not that he could blame you, he’d been waiting for a while before you showed up, and the hostess undoubtedly was trying to play matchmaker, not that he was complaining. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He murmured, opening up his menu, he glanced over at you, seeing your eyes darting between two items, “never been here before?” He asked, already settling on his meal. You shook your head, chewing your bottom lip as you weighed your options, chicken or pasta.

“Are we ready to order?” The waiter asked, setting down the drinks you’d ordered when you sat down. Anthony nodded, going first to give you another second to decide. He ordered the exact chicken dish you’d been debating on, “is it good?” You asked him, closing your menu, he nodded instantly. “I’ll have the same, please.” You handed over your menu, watching the guy whisk away. “So, Y/N.” Anthony started, resting his elbows on the table, “are you a nurse?” He asked with a tilt of his head, motioning to the scrubs you were wearing. “Medical assistant.” You answered, looking over at his outfit, “I have no clues, this isn’t fair.” You countered, stifling back a laugh when he looked down at his pants and shirt, he hummed, giving you a smile. “You watch sports?” He asked, you thought he was derailing the conversation, “not really.” You answered truthfully, he nodded in understanding, “I play hockey.” He told you, and you thought he was just being a show off. “Athletic, fun, still doesn’t tell me what you do for a living.” You countered easily, whether it be the way he was so easy to speak to, or the way you were sure to be dying of hunger, the words toppled out before you could stop them.

You felt your face flood with warmth as he tilted his head back in laughter, “hockey.” He spoke, raising an eyebrow, “I play hockey for a living.” He watched your face go from confused to shock, “oh.” You whispered sheepishly, “for who?” You asked, mirroring his earlier actions and resting your elbows on the table. “New York Islanders.” He spoke with ease, glancing over the restaurant, suddenly feeling like he came off as arrogant. “Oh thank god, my family would disown me for talking to a Rangers player.” You quipped, you might not have been much into sports, but growing up in New York, you knew a fair bit about the local teams. Plus your cousins were avid fans. So maybe you knew a bit more than average.

“Thought you weren’t into sports?” He answered instantly, becoming engrossed in the conversation with you. He listened intently to you as you began to ramble about the hockey fans in your family, you hadn’t realized how long you’d been talking until the food showed up. You fell silent abruptly, embarrassed for how much you’d spoken. Anthony gave you a reassuring smile as he began cutting into his chicken. You did the same, brushing your sheepishness aside. Your eyes shut in relief as you ate your first bite, “told you it was good.” He spoke up as he swallowed his food. You giggled softly, looking up at him through your lashes, he smirked to himself as you hid behind some of your loose hairs. He found himself wanting to do this again with you, sit, talk, eat. A classic date if he’d ever seen one, but it wasn’t, you were just a complete stranger that he’d probably never see again.

Your meal had come and gone, and you both settled your checks, about to part ways out in the parking lot, “you know, I might just have to take my cousin up on that extra ticket to the game in a couple weeks.” You blurted out, cursing yourself mentally, he faltered in his steps, “I’ll be looking for you.” He called as he walked to his car, leaving you there to process his words with a flutter in your chest.

Of course, the first thing you did when you got home was look him up on Instagram, boldly following him and wondering about the what if’s.

***

You rushed out the door the next morning, knowing you’d never hear the end of it from your cousin, Ava, if you were late. It was a tradition for you, her and her twin brother to get together once a month for breakfast, something your dad had instilled in you all, and something you made sure to keep up after he passed.

You didn’t even check your phone.

“You’re late!” Aidan shouted, “shut up! I tried my best.” You groaned, tossing your purse down on the counter, your phone half hanging out of it as you went to wash your hands. As you turned the water on you heard Ava scream at the top of her lungs, you went running out as Aidan shrieked in surprise by his sister's actions. “What? Are you ok?” You gasped nearly slipping in your socks, “Y/N.” She gaped at you, she had your phone in her hands, “why did Anthony Beauvillier request to follow you?!” She shouted, Aidan snatched the phone, “oh my god.” He mumbled, unlocking the device, seeing that it really was his account. “He what?” You mumbled, yanking your phone out of his grasp, quickly accepting his request, before facing the millions of questions they had.

It felt like an eternity until they stopped asking you things, “well obviously you’re going to the game with us, and you’re borrowing my Beauvillier jersey.” Ava smirked, you began shaking your head furiously, “no, no, no.” You whined, crossing your arms as they gave you glares. “Yes, yes, yes.” They mocked you, “by the sounds of it, he was clearly flirting with you, how could you pass up on him?” Ava dramatically swooned, “besides, maybe you’ll fall in love and you can get me in with Mat.” She giggled girlishly, “puck bunny.” Aidan muttered jokingly, she turned to him quickly, “I’m not afraid to hit you with my stick again.” He didn’t say anything after that as he shifted away from her.

“I’ll go to the game, but you better not embarrass me.” You mumbled in defeat, only wondering what you just got yourself into.

***

“Stalking her now beau?” Mat joked with his friend, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through your Instagram, “shut up.” Tito sighed, faltering as he stumbled across one of your beach pictures. “Oh, damn.” Mat whistled teasingly, he shut himself up when his friend glared at him.

***

“Ava.” You snapped, lightly whacking her hands away, “I’m fixing your hair.” She complained, pouting at you, sneakily grabbing your pony tail and tightening it before you could react, “ow!” You snapped nearly falling on the escalator, Aidan chuckled as you scolded her. “It’s not funny.” You both snapped at the same time as you stepped off the escalator, following them to their seats, you all the clueless to how close to the glass you were really going to be. “Woah.” You gasped, Ava grabbing your hand and pulling you a couple rows down to look up close at the glass, Aidan settled into the seats, snapping a few pictures of the two of you looking out in amazement. “There’s Barzal, oh and pageau, you wanna keep your eyes on them. They’re really good right now.” Ava explained, you nodded listening as your eyes darted around, looking for number eighteen. “Have you spoken to him since that night?” Ava asked as they began skating around the ice, pucks flying everywhere. You stayed silent as you suppressed a smile, easily spotting Anthony as he passed a puck back and forth with Mat. “You have!” Ava gasped, shaking your shoulder violently, “so what if I have?” You mumbled, biting your lip when she looked over at you. “You are something else.” She giggled, shrieking softly when Anthony skated up to the glass, a puck in his hand. He motioned for you to catch it, which you did with ease. “Good luck!” You shouted, hugging the puck close to your chest as he grinned, he gave you a quick wave before going back to skating around.

“That was flirting.” Aidan declared as you both settled into your seats beside him, “yeah, it was.” You surprised them by not arguing, you felt your face warm up as they looked over at you in shock.

The game had gone on without a hitch, the islanders winning 4-1. So you did what you’d promised Anthony, Tito as he requested you call him, you sent him your number.

“Good game, you earned this.”

You felt giddy as you sent him your number, knowing by the time he saw it you would probably be asleep for the night, but the excitement of if he was going to use it, that kept you on your toes.

***

“What can I say, you made me work for it”

“Goodnight, Y/N”

Your heart fluttered more than it should have when you woke up to his messages, bright and early, much earlier than he would be up the day after a game.

“Morning, Tito!”

You sent it, eyes widening as three bubbles popped up instantly.

“Have a good day at work”

You read it over and then saw him typing once again.

“Are you free Friday?”

Your heart nearly lept out of your chest.

“See you Friday”

A confident response that unknowing to you made him nervous, he was never nervous when it came to dates, but you were already so different to him.

You went about your day as normally, occasionally sneaking a moment to text Tito back as he sent you random things throughout the day, including the planning of your date for Friday. He insisted on picking you up, and you agreed, appreciating the chivalry he was showing that not many guys still had.

You were giddy, and he was thrilled, already mentally preparing himself, although he knew once he was around you, it would be easy. It always was.

***

The knock on your door made you inhale sharply, glancing down at your outfit once more, the skinny jeans hugging your curves just right, and the delicate blouse showing just enough skin to be flirty but modest, and it went along with the casual dress code he had established. You quickly zipped up the sides of your wedges, you flipped your loosely curled hair behind your shoulders as you unlocked the door. “Hey, Tito.” You breathed out, smiling at him, the both of you quickly taking in the sight of each other, “hi, you look great.” He complimented, his nerves instantly melting away as you let out a sheepish giggle, “thanks.” Your voice was soft and he soaked up every bit of it, seeing the shy smile adorning your face. “You clean up nice.” You responded, grabbing your purse as he chuckled, looking down at his dark jeans and short sleeve printed button shirt, you took notice of the chain he had underneath it. You shot him a smile as you turned back to him fully, “ready?” You asked, adjusting the purse on your shoulder.

“Ready.”

You burst into laughter as he pulled into the parking lot, the same restaurant you met at, “you’re serious?” You asked through a smile, he nodded, “I mean unless you don’t like it–“ you cut him off as he was about to ramble. You grabbed his hand that was resting on the center console, “no, I love it. It’s really cute honestly.” You assured him, not missing the way he instantly relaxed when you touched him. “Oh, good.” He breathed out, “let’s go inside.”

The hostess did a double take as she saw you two walk in hand in hand. It was the same one from the first night you met, “hello.” She grinned, grabbing two menus, “sitting together, again?” She asked, Anthony nodded brightly. “Yeah.” He answered, letting you walk in front of him as you followed her to a table. “Thanks.” You smiled at her, sitting in your seat, Anthony thanked her as well as he followed behind you. “So, is the chicken any good?” You asked, he broke into laughter, his head tipping back as he gave you an incredulous look. “I think it’s really good.” He answered, snickering as he picked up his menu, you smiled at his reaction, feeling giddy as you knew you were the reason he was having such a good time. “Ok but seriously, what else is good here?” You asked, shifting to an overly serious tone as you scanned over the menu, he smiled at the concentration on your face.

“It’s all good here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @matbarzyy

[asunshinepuff]

That’s Our Coach!

🏒So some of us on the SW discord were talking about Remus now that the final chapter of SW had come out. And we came up with the headcanon idea that Remus had figured out a way to continue his summer coaching despite now being spoiler alert if you haven’t read it (but why would you be here if you hadn’t? GO READ THE FINAL CHAPTER!!) the newest player of the Gryffindor Lions. Naturally, I got inspired and thus had to write this fic. Honestly this is the longest work I’ve done in a while and I am so excited to finally be posting it.

Course, credit is due. This wasn’t just my idea. Thank you so much to @whataboutmyfries, @im-oknutzy-trash, @bkfstclubmember and @fadedgreenmittens for coming up with the details for this idea! I couldn’t have done this without you four!

Just a heads up, despite being an ice skater and knowing hockey terms, I have never ever written hockey before. So I apologise profusely if something doesn’t seem correct. As always, full credit goes to @lumosinlove for her amazing characters!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! 🏒

.

One Month Ago

Remus stopped at the boards smoothly, letting some of the ice spray as he hopped onto the boards of the bench. “Great practice everyone.” He exclaims with a smile, “Boys can you come over here for a moment?”

Fifteen boys, ranging from ages eight to ten skated quickly over to their coach, sliding into a halting stop - some less graceful than others which causes Remus to chuckle lightly under his breath before addressing the boys.

“Now boys, this is the end of our summer session. The next season is going to be a little different.” He explains calmly, trying to get a handle of his nerves yet excitement for what the Cubs’ reactions will be.

Naturally, this caused a chorus of assumptions all ranging from horribly bad to hilarious. 

“Are you leaving?” One boy, the loudest despite being the youngest exclaimed tearfully, and this caused a collective gasp before a chorus of the same comments. “Don’t leave Coach Remus!” “Yeah! You’re the best!” “Stay with us!” 

“Calm down, calm down. Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.” Remus repeats a few times before the attention is back on his words, “I’m going to be playing for the Lions.” He finally announces with a smile, “And I’m inviting you guys to the first game at Hogwarts Stadium.”

He watches as his words resonate in each of the kid’s minds as they all collectively gasp, once again, with wide eyes and erupt into cheers. Most likely the smartest decision for him to currently have been seated upon the boards of the bench or else he might’ve been tackled to the ice by the Cubs.

Smiling, he watches as the boys skate off the ice and rush over to their parents, yelling “COACH REMUS IS ON THE LIONS!!!”

.

Present-Day

The locker room was buzzing with excitement and it seemed to emanate through every player. Leo and Logan were somewhat geared up already, making some sort of competition out of a play fight by tasing the other’s side with their fingers.

It was interrupted by Finn who came sprinting from his stall and jumped onto Leo, and Logan broke down laughing at the sight. Kasey was on the floor of his stall, in the midst of stretching out his legs in the splits while he was in a three-way conversation with James and Talker.

James sat leaning forward as he was lasing up his skates, and Talker was drumming on the walls of James’ stall as he sat somewhat in the middle of the room. Meanwhile, Olli, Kuny and Nado were also set in a pretty energetic conversation in full gear. Dumo sat watching the boys with Sergei by his side, and finally, Remus and Sirius were the last ones to enter the room to get geared up.

Remus stopped for a moment, staring at the stall that was now his. Lupin #6 was written on the back of the brand new Lions jersey. It felt so surreal, yet, strange. Normally he’d be here early in the morning, setting up all the stalls exactly the way each team member preferred in order to not mess with superstitions. 

But now, here he was. Coming at the same time as the others, with Sirius by his side. He made it. And yes, he loved his job as a PT, and in some ways will miss it - he cannot deny the excitement that fueled the spring in his step. The urge and want to prove himself was here once again. 

He sent Sirius a smile before they part to their stalls. On reflex, he sat at his stall and fell easily back into his old routine for stretches, calf stretches before thigh, and then when he felt ready he began gearing up.

“Mon Loup, are you nervous?” A familiar voice says by his side, as Remus was beginning to lace up his skates. He looks up to see Sirius in just his under armor, as always before games, leaning against his stall and he cannot help but smile in return despite his nerves. 

“A bit more now that we’re actually here. But I’m excited.” He admits. Spotting the paper in his fiance’s hands, his eyes widen ever so slightly. This was really happening, he’s here. He’s on the Lions about to play his first game with his love and family by his side.

It still felt so new yet so right to call Sirius his fiancé, everytime the reminder comes to his mind he has to smile. He was just so happy. “Is that the starting line-up for the game?” 

Sirius nods, giving him a fond smile in return. Most likely assuming what was on his mind before he asked the question. However, there was some mischief, and pride within his eyes, he most likely read the lineup already. “Wanna join me for the read off?” 

“Absolutely.”

The couple makes their way to the center of the locker, in the midst of the chaos, and Sirius lets out a loud whistle before yelling, “Alright! First game of the season! Let’s kick the Habs’ asses tonight yeah?” That caught the attention of the team, as a series of answering shouts of approval, all of which amplified when the team caught sight of Remus in his jersey. 

“Let’s go Loops! Rookie up!” Finn yells, laughing as he rushes forward and gives Remus a high five. 

“Coach gave the line-up for tonight’s game.” Sirius continued over the noise. He looks to Remus with a smile before he turns to the team and starts off the line-up, “Starting tonight, in the cage, we got Kasey Winter!”

Remus leans over at the paper with a grin on his face as he takes Sirius’ hand as he decides to steal the next call, “On the left, we got James Potty-Mouth Potter himself.”

“On the right, we got the fastest on our side - Remus Lupin!”

“Loops on the ice!” Logan calls out, forming a chant followed by James, Talker, Finn, and Leo. Remus couldn’t help but laugh at the antics, this was really happening. In an effort to drown out the series of chants, he takes the next announcement. 

“We got Talker and Olli on defense!”

James, in his excitement, quickly stole the paper from Sirius’ grasp, yelling above his protests, “And of course on center, we’re making the power front line here. We got the man, the myth, the legend - Sirius Black!”

A chorus of cheers rang out for those announced in the lineup, progressively dying down as Coach Arthur came into the locker room, and then it was really business time. The last of the gear and jerseys were finally dawned, laces were laced up, and the team was getting into the right headspace for a game.

Remus stood at the end of the tunnel with Sirius by his side. “Gryffindor!” boomed Frank’s voice, which echoed down the tunnel in addition to the crowd’s loud cheers in response, full of excitement for the Lion’s entrance. “Are you ready?”

Ten... Nine... 

“Re? You okay?” Sirius asks, placing a gentle hand upon his own, that was tightly gripping the pole of his hockey stick. He gasps lightly as he lets his grip slacken, not realizing that his nerves had increased since entering the tunnel.

Eight... Seven... 

“I’m... okay. Just nervous.” Remus replies honestly, trying to give a reassuring smile at the concerned look upon Sirius’ face. Taking Remus’ opposing hand in his own, he runs his thumb comfortingly across the top and squeezes it lightly. “Breathe Remus, you’ll be okay. You’re not alone out there.” He says, as they walk hand in hand down the tunnel. 

Six... Five.....

“Right... Breathe. Just Breathe.” He repeats over and over momentarily, getting himself out of his head. “It’s just the first game.” He sees Sirius nod, out of the corner of his eye.

“You’ll be okay. And you’ll play so well.”

Four... Three... 

The camera crew within the tunnels, displaying the entrance on the jumbo screen within the stadium begin rolling the cameras as the team gets closer. Distracted, Remus gasps as he’s suddenly pulled back from following the team and pulled flush against a familiar chest. 

“What is it?” He asks, looking up at Sirius with a slight tilt of his head in confusion. 

It was strange, Sirius’ eyes were shining bright as he looked back at Remus. Probably trying to gauge how nervous he actually was at the moment he assumes. “Hey, Re?”

“Yeah?”

Sirius glances briefly to the cameras that were now focused on them since they were the last two remaining, before he tilts Remus’ helmet upwards slightly, and kisses him softly. As if they have all the time in the world.

Two... One...

As they pull away, he briefly lets go of Remus’ hand, only to gently place it on his cheek. “I love you. So much.” Sirius comments with a smile.

Remus can’t help but smile in return, leaning into the touch, feeling his nerves wash away as he looks into the eyes of the man he loves. “I love you too.” 

Zero...

“Your Gryffindor Lions!” Frank drew out the words and the lights within the stadium went crazy as the team appeared down the tunnel. The order was the same as usual, Kasey came first, goalie mask propped on top of his head as he skated out onto the ice.

Then Timmy, Finn, Leo, Olli, Logan, Evgeni, Nado, Sergei, Dumo. The only difference was that James came out right before Remus, who was now second to last, and it was his turn.

It was exhilarating, hearing the cheers as Frank called his name and he skated onto the ice, right foot first. It was smooth beneath his blades, bringing him to a sense of calm focus.

There was a sea of red and gold throughout the stadium, in addition to rainbow flags, his nickname was being shouted by multiple fans and as he skated to a section, there was a chorus of a different nickname being yelled which made him laugh. “COACH REMUS!”

Stopping at the glass he waves and pounds on the glass in return to some of the boys close up to the boards. “Hi boys! Enjoy the game!” He yells up, not fully expecting to be heard but nonetheless felt the need to.

When he turns to skate off and find Jules in the stands, Finn skates by, looking at him with wide eyes. “Loops, you have a lot of children?” 

“What?” He responds in confusion, turning back behind him to the team before looking back to Finn. “Oh… No. Finn, that's my cub’s team from summer.” He says, laughing.

“Gotcha. Hey, let them back after the game!” Finn says with a smile before continuing the loop around the rink, while Remus takes off once again, reaching close to the middle of the rink before he goes back to the glass, stopping in front of where his family has a front view.

Smiling, he watches as Julian rushes from his seat to the glass with the biggest smile on his face. Julian had his Lions beanie on as usual but for once, he wasn’t dressed in a Black jersey.

Instead, he wore the Lupin jersey that he had just gotten a few days prior, turning around briefly to show his older brother. The brothers place a hand on the glass on both sides, smiling at the other as they mouth to one another.

I love you Re!! Good Luck!!

Love you too Jules!

With a quick wave up to his parents in the stands, Remus took off once again, passing by his fiancé who was already at center ice with the ref who held the puck and the Habs’ center. Stopping at the boards, he was met by James who smiled at him.

Rolling his eyes, he quickly grabbed the gatorade blue he had put on the bench prior next to two bottles of water, not wanting to mess with his friend’s superstition despite him not needing to be in charge of it anymore. He flips the bottle towards him, earning a grin in response, “Blue.”

“Always blue.” He replies with a wink before he skates off to his position on the right. Sharing a look with Sirius, he smiles before looking to the Habs’ right winger in front of him. James joined them shortly after, and the six crouched, eyes on the puck. The ref dropped the puck shortly after, and the game began.

The first period went by in a flash. With the Lions being up 1-0. James narrowly managed to score a breakaway up the ice off of a clean pass from Remus and managed to break through the Habs’ goalie. However, the Habs’ defense was strong. The Lions needed to be at the top of their game.

In the midst of the second period, the Habs managed to tie the game 1-1. So, Remus decides to push a little harder. Puck in hand, he races through the defensive line of the Habs and manages to score. With a hat trick.

His hands up in a cheer and laughing to himself, he was suddenly slammed into the boards by Sirius and James, and there was a loud chorus of young shouts yelling “THAT’S OUR COACH!” that made the three players laugh.

In the stands, there was no one more excited than Julian, who was practically jumping up and down as if he was on a sugar high. The nine-year-old wasn’t even playing himself yet he felt adrenaline for his older brother. He was just so happy!

“Yeah Loops! You’re on fire today!” James says on his right, smacking his shoulder playfully as he pulls away, heading off to the Lions goal to give Kasey a high five, then heading off to Olli and Talker.

Sirius stayed behind, having the biggest grin as he watched Remus laugh with glee, kissing his cheek briefly before he speaks. “You got a hat trick!” 

“I did!” 

Remus is freed from the board, however, his laughter and excitement has not diminished in the slightest. Joining James and Sirius back at center, the second period continues. 

.

🏒Hey you guys! 

Thank you so much for coming this far. I don’t usually like to put author's notes at the end of my works but this is an exception. And I have to admit, this one-shot took me a lot longer than I initially thought but I adore it so much.

Now, I have a question for you all.

I’m thinking of writing a second part to this (and possibly more than just another in the future), and making Lions Player/Coach Remus a regular au on my blog. What do you guys think? Let me know in the comments, a reblog with your answer or shoot me an ask with what you think!🏒

[cosmiclatte28]

90′s LOVE (Sungchan x you, Mark)

The MV IS OUT!! and I really like their concept. This is like how EXO nailed the football concept and now NCT nailed the Hockey concept!! I am so excited that I have this in my mind... 

I hope this is not boring and yeah give Sungchan some more love! 

warning : i don’t want to soil the plot, but there’s some kiss..

PART TWO HERE

You bend to untie your skating shoes; you're done with today's skating class. The locker is already crowded with the trainee for the next schedule. The ice hockey team from your club is here to play today. They're the best team in town, NCT U Dinosaur and next week they are playing against Gorillas. You bet it will be an interesting match with the Dinos winning of course, there's no doubt with that tall new center they have and the super tight bond between the players. It's like their mind is already connected and they can always pass the puck with ease. You excuse your way to your own locker, well with their padded costumes and tall bodies, you're struggling to find your way to the locker.

"Excuse me," you say between each steps and the members are all friendly to you, hey they always meet you because your class is before theirs and so you always see them preparing themselves. "Oh hey there (y/n)," Mark, your best friend and secret crush, greets you with a quick side hug. He squishes your shoulder and you just laugh nervously obviously surprised and shy from what he did. He's super friendly with you to the point where you wish he can see you as someone more than a friend. He lets you go when his other friend calls him and you make your way to the end of the locker. "I see someone is left behind again," a tall shadow appears on your peripheral views. You sigh, knowing this is once again Sungchan teasing you for your one-sided crush on Mark. Well, you knew Sungchan earlier than you knew Mark, Sungchan once went to the same elementary school as you did, so there's nothing awkward between the two of you. You got separated but meet one another again in this skating rink. Him as a hockey player, you as a figure skater. "Shut up, he's called over." You try to push the negative thought away.

Deep inside your heart, you still have the slightest hope that Mark is liking you back. Sungchan just laughs at you, he puts his hand over your head wanting to ruffle your hair, but your bun doesn't allow him to. He awkwardly puts his hand down, lucky you did not realize this. "So, you're going to stay and watch us practice?" Sungchan has hope in his tone. You look around and see your brother Ten already entering the Barn (the rink). "I guess I have to wait for Ten." you stuff your skates into your bags and grab your slippers. "Oh okay cool. Wish me luck I need to warm up." Sungchan smiles to you, you just click your tongue, "Okay big boy, good luck." you fist bump him and he makes his way out of the room. You change your clothes and make yourself comfortable in the bleachers. With one cup of hot tea and a phone in your other hand, you waste your time on the internet. "Hey you wanna go home?" Ten skates to your side and asks over the rink. You see the time, and shake your head, "I got nothing to do, I'll watch you. Focus," you shoo him away and he just pulls you his nose scrunch face. Their practice ended nicely, and you have your eyes glued to Mark on all of the game. Dude, he's a good wing man and Sungchan is a tough center. His scoring is accurate and he's super calm in the midst of the game. Your brother is playing as a wing man too. Practice ended with Mark's team winning and they all crowded the room back with their sweaty bodies. After a shower, you find yourself going home with your brother. "Next week is game day, you must watch us!" Ten says excitedly on the way home inside the bus. "Sure, I mean I am on a term break for preparing the state skating, I can watch your games." You squeeze your brother's hand. "How's your practice today?" he asks you this time. You shake your head, "Not good, I cannot do the quad axel yet and my biggest rival, Taeyong, can do that easily. I mean even when we skate on different categories... I still feel I lost to him." Ten hugs you from the side and cheers you up, "Hey you're doing great okay, you just need a few more practices It's okay." You shake your head, "It's not. He did it in two tries and I still can't do it. Maybe mom is right, figure skating is not for me." Ten looks at you in amusement, "The hell are you saying? You worked hard from seven years old and you're thinking of stopping because of one move where people acknowledge as something nearly impossible to be done?!" You laugh at yourself, "Silly? maybe I should join the hockey team. Maybe Mark will pay more attention to me." You're open to your brother about your feelings, he knows your silly one sided crush on Mark and Ten has already told you repeatedly to move on, but you're so stubborn. "Still not over him eh?" Ten changes the topic. You blush and nod your head, "He's so sweet." Ten actually knows Mark is always sweet with everyone, no he is not a player. He is just warm and welcoming to all girls, Ten knows Mark longer than you but you never listen your brother. "For once can you listen to me?" he desperately sighs, you shake your head. Ten stops. "Let me just tell you this, someone else is always there for you, but when you're busy counting stars, you forgot the moon." Ten shuts his mouth afterwards and you find his sentence confusing. What is wrong with Ten? Sungchan goes back home with his roommate, Mark. Together they walk under the warm moon and talk about random things until Mark asks Sungchan about you. "So I heard you know (Y/n) right?" The taller guy just nods his head, "Yeah why?" "It's just that is she available?" Mark directly asks this and Sungchan is surprised, is he interested in her? No way this is happening. Sungchan notices the small smile Mark tries to hide but failed. "Well as far as I know she is not seeing anyone." Sungchan admits he really wants to lie and say you're not available, but you will kill him. "Oh a cute girl like her is still single?" Mark's eyes dilate twice in size. Sungchan rolls his eyes, "Maybe because she is waiting for someone to make the move." Mark whistles, "Classic, and you? You're dating anyone?" Sungchan blushes, "No one in the moment." Mark just nods his head, "Uh maybe you can ask her out, you seem to like her." Sungchan almost froze on his steps, wait was he really obvious? He wants to yell at Mark "Oh hell yeah I am asking her out when I know she has a crush on you... you dense..." He holds his words and just toss Mark a silly look, "Nah, not now. She's not interested in me." "Why not try?" Mark nonchalantly asks. Sungchan wishes he can spill the beans, but no he can't inside his heart he only scream "Because I know that I will just be her rebound when she realizes you're really not interested in her." "I don't know Mark, why don't you try win her if you like her." Sungchan tosses back the bomb and Mark just chuckles "I am already committed." "Hell what? You never told me!" Mark blushes, "Well it's not usual so I'm not really telling anyone." Sungchan understands and touches the shorter's shoulder, "Who is he?" Mark smiles, "Haechan, it's Haechan our defence." Sungchan smiles happily for his brother, he slaps his back, "Congrats bro!" Mark just giggles, "Thanks, come on let's go in!" They arrive at their apartment and Sungchan feels his head breaking down.

So how can he tell you Mark is unavailable, and he knows you'll be so heart broken. Sungchan thought of all the possibilities and ended up sleeping. He didn't see you anymore until the game day. You are there sitting on the bleachers with your oldest brother, Taemin and the two of you are super excited. You see Sungchan on his way to the dressing room and you dash quickly to see him, you just want to wish him luck. "Sungchan-ie!!" you reach his hand and he stops in track, looking back he sees you "Oh it's you!" his smile erupts. You hand him a chocolate bar, "Good luck! Score many points today okay? Play safe" you pat his back and he can't hide his silly face, "Thanks, I will do my best. Hey where are you going?" he asks when you move away. You mouthed MARK and leave him. That's when he realizes he should've stopped you from looking Mark but he's too late. Sungchan sees you frozen in track by the door of the locker room, the energy drink you bring for Mark falls to the ground and before he can reach for you, you've ran away. Sungchan wants to run after you but his captain Winwin calls him. "Shit," Sungchan sees Mark and Haechan on the corner making out and his smart brain is enough to understand you learn the truth the hard way.

Sungchan is a professional, once he is in the Barn, he’s busy with the game and he sets aside all of the emotion and problems. He’s determined to console you after the game, so first he needs to win this game and then win your heart.

The game ended with fantastic scores, Sungchan performs very well and scores many today. You cheer excitedly by Taemin’s side. The two of you jumping excitedly when the team wins.

You’re still sad when you saw Mark earlier, but here you are once again in the waiting room congratulating everyone in the team. You hold your tears when you get a hug from Mark. His hug sure feels different now, you know it you really stand no chance. You walk to your other friend, Sungchan and you surprise him with a hug. You never hug him first, but today you feel like he’s the only one you can trust.

“Congratulations” you whisper and Sungchan excitedly picks you up from the floor. You yelp but let him pick you up, well he’s way taller than you.

“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Sorry I did not run to you earlier.”

You gulp, oh so he saw you. “No don’t be. I’m fine. You need to focus on the game earlier.”

“Yeah I did, all because you came here and gave me the luck I need.” He still has you levitating and clinging to his big tall frame.

You squirm in his touch, “Okay put me down,”

“No. Not until you cry yourself and calm down.”

Your lips tremble, Sungchan sure is a smart man.

“I am not going to cry,” you lie to him

Sungchan shakes his head, “You will. I know you want to cry now. He’s gone already, no one is here you can cry.”

You sigh, “Please.. please put me down.”

He puts you down and sits beside you.

“I am a fool wasn’t I?” You bite your lips, eyes already wet.

Sungchan pulls you into his embrace, “Pour it all out.”

You stain his jersey with tears, and you punch his chest angrily.

“It hurts,” those are the last words you say before closing your eyes and just feeling the warmth Sungchan gives.

Ten comes into the room and catches the scene, he quickly runs to take you over and lets Sungchan changes his clothes first. The younger man did what Ten said and Ten also knew what happened. Well earlier once the game ended, he clearly saw Mark kissing his boyfriend, and Ten knows you’re crying because of that.

You look up to Ten and with hiccups you ask him, “Hyung,  I focused on the star.. and now when the star is gone… did I lost my moon too?”

Ten sighs, you remember what he said that night. Ten looks into the tall man who’s cleaning up his gears and smiles, he rubs your back and brings your teary face to see him, “Hey you did not lose the moon. I can assure you, this time the moon is still here.”

“Really?” you sniffle

Ten brushes your hair away, “Yes honey, you just have to look closely.”

Your eyes catch Sungchan’s tall figure and everything clicks.

“I’ll try, I don’t want to rush…” you shy away from Ten’s gaze.

Ten smiles, “It’s okay, he waited this long, he can wait a bit more.”

Sungchan hears that and just smile, he leaves the room so you two can talk more privately, but deep inside his heart he knows if he plays the game right, he can win your heart now.

 endddd 

please support nct u 90′s love, be it streaming or just appreciate their music and maybe tell someone else about the song! It brings back memories :D

[bordeleaubeau]

my ex’s best friend - trevor zegras

wc: 4212

trigger warning: talks about the loss of a parent and being walked out on.

based on my ex’s best friend by blackbear and mgk:)

-

“god i cannot wait for jack to be here!” jordan gushes as she runs her hand through her hair, messing up her curls just enough. “it’s been so long, and i know he’s definitely gone to parties back in michigan, but college parties are so much more better. not that he’d know that though.”

you laugh louder than you mean to, but you can’t help but agree with your best friend. jack and you had grown up together in michigan and you were so close that you were basically ellen’s honorary daughter. it also helped you had played for little caesars girl’s team, so you’d occasionally see the youngest hughes every now and then. with that, you got a scholarship offer from harvard and the rest was history.

now, this is where things get more interesting. you introduced jordan and jack, instantly thinking that jordan would be nothing other than a hookup. but jack had taken a serious liking to her and vice versa, which eventually led to them dating after just two months of them knowing each other.

and now here you were, standing in your best friend’s boston university dorm room waiting for your childhood best friend to arrive for the start of his road trip. “he should be here any minute now, jo. newark isn’t that far and-”

you’re cut off by a squeal coming from the brunette, and she’s popping up from her bed. “he’s here!” and just like that, she’s gone and leaving you to sprint after her down the hall to let jack into the building.

you’re laughing following after, no doubt driving the people on the floor below you insane by the sounds of your feet thudding against the carpeted floor. the two of you race down the stairwell until jordan throws open the side door where the first overall stood, a glowing smile on his face at the sight of his two girls.

you stand back, allowing jack and jordan a moment. the two exchange a few words followed by a brief peck to the lips before they release each other from their hold. then it’s your turn, and you’re smiling as you wrap your arms around jack.

“hi jacky,” you mumble into his chest, feeling him quickly kiss the top of your head.

“hey kid, how’ve you been holding up?” god, you wish you didn’t know what he was referring to. but you knew right away.

behind you, jordan is frantically shaking her head with wide eyes trying to take away from the topic. you draw away from jack, trying to find the words. “it still, it still hurts, i guess. but i’m okay, promise.” you give jack a weak smile, one you know he sees right through seeing as he knew you for almost all your life. “are we gonna go or what?”

“yeah jacky, i think it’s time you experience a real party, not one of those dumb little high school parties.” jordan teases her boyfriend and you smile, watching as she links her arm with his. “plus, y/n goes to that smart person school that like, no one has ever heard of before and i heard they don’t know how to have a proper party.” she throws you a smile over her shoulder and you roll your eyes with a smile on your face. if anyone could poke fun at you like that, it was jordan. jordan and jack. and that’s why they made such a perfect couple - jordan was just like jack, so when you didn’t have jack you pretty much had the girl version of him right at your own disposal.

the three of you walk towards where the party of the night is at, letting jordan lead the way seeing as she was the only one that knew where she was going. you knew you’d definitely have a few friends there, and some old ones as well.

“is uh, is you know who going to be there?” you hear jack quietly ask and you swallow hard. you knew he was just trying to be nice by not saying his name, but not saying it only made it feel more real.

“um, i don’t know. i don’t think so. i talked to dom in econ today, they had a big game tonight so they’re probably tired. but i’m not sure, i haven’t talked to him in the past few days.” you cross your arms over your chest, looking to the right towards the street to try and blink the building tears in your eyes away. you shouldn’t feel this way. it was your fault anyway. right?

you keep quiet, trying to distract yourself in any way you possibly could. what you had said was true - you did prefer bu’s parties to harvard’s. there was something about going to a party and being that mysterious girl that could hook up with any guy and him not know anything about you. he couldn’t find you in classes if he was that interested. you couldn’t exactly do that at harvard, being so well known on both campus and the ice.

maybe that was what you needed. a distraction for the night. you were certainly dressed to earn some turned heads, and you were sure you were going to end up using that to your advantage at some point that night.

the three of you walk into the party a few minutes later and right away you have a bad feeling. at that moment you feel like you should trust your gut and just walk away, but you know you can’t just ditch your best friends like that.

jordan turns, yelling over the music. “what do you want to drink? whiteclaw good? me and jack will grab it and then we can all meet up by the living room?”

you nod, giving her a thumbs up not exactly feeling up to yelling over the music. you already felt sick to your stomach, and you weren’t sure the effects of the alcohol would help with this one.

“y/n!” you hear your name being yelled and you quickly turn to see a familiar blonde, and a smile graces your face.

“hey ry!” you move in to hug her, your arms wrapping around her quickly. you met ryley through jordan, of course, and she had to be one of the sweetest girls you had ever met. she was always willing to go the extra mile if necessary. “how’ve you been, babe?”

she shrugs, followed by an exaggerated eye roll. “same old same old. you know how it is. but how are you? you look hot by the way! i’ve already seen like, five guys that can’t keep their eyes off you!”

“i’m doing alright, just waiting for jack and jo. jack’s in town to play the bruins, so he came up for the night to see jo.” ryley nods along with your words, and before she can respond you see jack and jordan walking up from behind, two white cans in jordan’s hands and a giddy smile on her face.

“ryley!” jordan squeals, throwing her arms around the blonde. “ryley you’ve met jack before. don’t have to worry about that one.” you let out a laugh and jordan hands you the mango flavored seltzer and you thank her. “i think jack and i are gonna go play beer pong if you wanna find a partner and play us?”

you purse your lips, trying to think for a second before you ultimately decide to shake your head. “nah, i’m all good. i might play later though.”

“come dance with me and some of the girls then!” ryley smiles, gesturing her head towards the living room where there are plenty of sweaty bodies dancing on one another. you nod your head, accepting her offer.

“i’ll find you in a bit jo! go have fun you two.” jordan smiles at you, blowing you a fake kiss before she pulls jack towards one of the back rooms where you’re sure she’s already scoped out a beer pong table.

you know pretty much all the girls that are all dancing together - there’s amber, then there’s hayden, bella, and then maddie. all fairly sweet girls that you had had multiple encounters with and they were friendly each and every time.

“hi y/n!” bella grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you right into their little group. she glances down at your hand and she gives you a look. “honey you haven’t even-” she stops herself, grabbing your whiteclaw right out of your hand and she cracks it open. “just for that you’ve gotta chug, babe. sorry i don’t make the rules. you’re already slacking.”

“bella!” you laugh, most of it being drowned out by whatever soundcloud remix was being played, but nonetheless you still take the can from her and lift it to your lips, tilting your head back as you drink as much of it as you possibly can.

“that’s our girl!” ryley cheers you on, along with the other girls, and as soon as you empty the contents of your can you’re in a fit of giggles, shaking your head at the girls in front of you.

“you guys are too much, i swear.” you say, setting the empty can on a table behind you that was already littered with plenty of cans. one extra wouldn’t hurt. “you guys are so much better than my harvard friends.”

“which is exactly why you should transfer!” maddie exclaims, her hands going up to emphasize her statement along with a smile.

you jut your bottom lip out, and before you can say anything ryley beats you to it. “she plays a sport, mads. it’s not exactly that easy.”

“nu uh! wait a damn minute, but didn’t you have an offer from bu?” bella puts her hands on her hips, raising one of her eyebrows at you, and you can’t help but laugh at the feeling of being interrogated. if only they knew the whole story.

“i go to harvard solely for hockey. i can’t help that i liked harvard’s staff and coaches better than bu’s!” you defend yourself, but bella isn’t having any of it as she raises one of her hands to your face. “bella, come on.”

“no, no, i don’t wanna hear it. wanted to go to school with snobby rich kids instead of snobby cool kids! i get it!” all four of you are laughing, but it’s probably the alcohol making the situation funnier than it actually was.

you give bella a quick look, “if i wanted to go to school with snobby cool kids then i would’ve gone to bc.” your fit of laughter only intensifies at the look of pure betrayal. bella raises her hand, finger pointing behind your shoulder.

“the door is that way. i think you got lost. don’t let the door hit you on the way out, y/n. actually, i hope it hits you. maybe it’ll knock some sense into your head.” you can only giggle, and it only takes a few seconds before bella’s mean facade falls and she’s laughing as well.

“bel, come with me to grab another drink.” you gesture for her to follow you and she does, singing loudly - and poorly - to ucla. you only join in with her, laughing as the two of you make your way into the backyard where the coolers were. “god, it feels so much better out here.” you grumble, opening one and grabbing a whiteclaw for bella before grabbing one for yourself.

“we can stay out here for a bit, i don’t mind.” bella says, cracking the top of her can and taking a quick sip. “how have you been? after the whole… yeah. and with jack being here, i wasn’t sure if-“

you cut her off and shake her head. “i’m okay. everyone thinks i’m not okay but i, i am. we weren’t together long anyway.”

bella’s eyebrows raise, “y/n. you and trevor were together for over a year, it’s okay if you’re upset! no one would blame you, not one bit. besides, you were really happy with him. everyone wanted to be you two.” you purse your lips, eyes glued to the ground. you met bella the week of the break up, when everything went down, and you had spilled practically everything to her, maddie, hayden, and ryley. and of course jordan.

“i promise bel, i’m doing good. never been better, actually. might just go and hook up with one of his teammates if one’s here, honestly.” bella laughs, nodding her head to agree with your statement. “let's go back in. we’re probably missing, honestly god knows what.”

you go to walk in the house, but bella grabs your wrist to pull you back. “seriously, y/n/n. if you ever need to talk, and you can’t tell jordan because of jack being friends with him, please just know i’m here. right across the river, quite literally, too.” she gives you a soft smile, one that you return.

“thank you bel, i appreciate it.” with one last smile the two of you walk back into the house. “i’m gonna use the bathroom, but i’ll be right back, okay?”

bella nods and the two of you disperse, you heading one way and her the other towards the living room. you end up in the back room, walking towards where you’re assuming the bathroom is, but get stopped by jordan who’s hanging off jack’s arm. “oh y/n/n!” your best friend sings. “dom needs a beer pong partner and i think that you’re the perfect candidate!” she slurs ever so slightly, leaning more into jack. part of you wants to decline, but dom is giving you a cute smile that you just can’t ignore.

“fine.” you sigh, walking over to the table, “long time no see, dom. thought you guys had a game tonight?”

dom shrugs, “we won, so some of us decided to come out and celebrate. probably won’t stay out for too long, you know?” you nod along with him, taking a sip of your drink.

“i get it. and i don’t blame you. i’m dead after games, so kudos to you.” dom chuckles, motioning towards the table.

“we’ve got to come see a game some time. heard you guys aren’t half bad.” you nearly choke on your drink from trying to hold your laugh in, which just makes dom laugh. “what! i’m telling the truth!”

“not as good as bu, that’s for sure. so you’re funny, fensore.” you smile into your drink, eyes glancing behind jordan’s shoulder, and that’s where your entire world comes crashing down.

the second dom said some of the guys were here, you should’ve automatically assumed he’d be here. that’s just the type of guy trevor was - big win? celebrate with a party and end up getting laid by the end of the night. you weren’t surprised.

your initial glance turns into a full on stare, and trevor must feel it. he looks over the shoulder of whoever he’s talking to and his eyes meet yours - and the words you never spoke? he could see them in your eyes. everything you never said was practically laid right out on the table.

-

“i swear to god, i never fall in love, but, but then you showed up and i can’t get enough of it.” trevor’s words make you freeze, and upon feeling your body go stiff on top of him his hand that’s running up and down your side freezes as well. “y/n?”

“what did, what did you say, trevor?” you ask, picking your head up to look down at the brunette, a look of pure confusion on his face. the poor boy had no idea what he had done wrong - he didn’t think he had done anything wrong in fact.

trevor swallows hard, sitting up more so his back is resting against the wall of your dorm room. “i said that i love you, y/n.” he lets out a soft chuckle. “i thought that was obvious by now, i mean, we’ve been together all this time and i just-”

“we weren’t official for a few good months, trev,” you shake your head as you speak. “and that was because of you. you didn’t want to be official for like, five months.”

“which is -” he cuts himself off. “i don’t even know what’s going on. do you not believe me? what’s the deal here? because the fact we’ve been together this long and this is the first time i’m saying it, the first girl i’m ever saying it to, that should just support everything.”

you just couldn’t get yourself to say it. internally, you knew that every single bone in your body was desperately in love with trevor zegras. dozens of journal pages had ink scrawled on them, gushing in detail about all the lovely things he had done for you that day. but mentally? mentally you couldn’t let yourself believe you loved him. you couldn’t give him the willpower to absolutely destroy you if he ever so pleased. not after your family had come crashing down, and especially not after your mother had walked out. how could a mother walk out on her own blood that easily? her own child, that she claimed that she loved with all her heart.

“y/n do you not, do you not love me?” the pain in his eyes absolutely shattered you and had your heart aching. you wanted to tell him. but you couldn’t form the words. your silence, however, spoke volumes and trevor nods. “i can’t be with you, then.” he scoffs, shaking his head. “i can’t be with someone that doesn’t love me. not when i’ve put all my energy and love into them, and i’m, and i’m not getting any of that in return.”

“trevor i’m sorry.” those weren’t the three words he wanted to hear. they were three words, of course. but they weren’t the right ones. it’s a miracle you can even apologize to him, voice cracking as the tears form in your eyes.

trevor shakes his head, pushing himself up from your bed. “i’m done. i’ll see you around, y/n.”

-

you stumble backwards a few steps before completely turning around and leaving the room quickly, the sounds of all three of your friends calling after you drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

you see bella and ryley start after you, but you make a b-line for the backyard in an effort to try and ditch some of your friends that you knew were most likely trying to follow you out. but you weren’t sure if you could handle that, and you sure as hell were sure you wouldn’t be able to handle the breakdown that was about to happen.

as soon as you’re outside you lose it. you’re bawling right away, and you’re sure those around you thought you may be absolutely insane for breaking down in tears that quickly. your vision is blurred, but you see a figure walking towards you. you may not be able to make the figure out, but as soon as they pull you into their chest you know who it is.

“shh, you’re okay, y/n. i’ve got you, okay?” jack coos quietly, his hand combing through your hair trying desperately to calm you down. “i’ve got you, i promise. god i’m, i’m so sorry. we didn’t know trevor would be here. jo didn’t realize he was right there either, y/n/n.”

you can’t get any words out, sobs wrecking your entire body as you cry into jack’s chest. all he can do is run his hand down your back and try to reassure you that you’re okay, but it would take a lot more than that.

“y/n can we talk?” your whole body goes rigid and jack’s hand on your back freezes. you pull away from him, looking over his shoulder to see trevor. when he sees your tear stricken face, his eyes soften. “please. can we talk.”

jack looks down at you, a questioning look on his face asking if it’s okay. you nod, and jack presses a kiss to your head. “i’ll be right inside if you need me.” once again, you nod, and jack gives you one last squeeze before he’s walking inside. right away you cross your arms over your stomach, suddenly feeling chilly and more exposed than you had inside. your cropped cami and ripped jeans weren’t doing it anymore.

trevor hesitates, his lips pursing for a second as he steps a few feet forward. he’s trying to find the words to say, and finally, he lets them out. “jordan told me.” you take in a sharp breath, feeling your bottom lip start to tremble, trevor takes a few steps forward, and you let him wrap his arms around you. “i’m so sorry, god i am so, so sorry, y/n. i was a dick, i should have talked to you about it before just breaking up with you, i just, god i’m so sorry.”

you melt into him, arms slowly wrapping around his torso as you cry against him. his voice is genuine and sincere. you nod against him, letting him know that you’re okay - as good as you can be - and to let him know it’s okay.

“can we go talk? somewhere in private? i was just about to go back to my dorm if you’d wanna come.” you were lying if you’d say you weren’t hesitant. because you were. it was probably going to be a bad idea, but nonetheless you go against your better judgement.

“yeah. yeah that’s okay.” you manager to croak out and pull away from trevor’s chest. you don’t get very far however, his hands go to your cheeks and his thumbs run underneath your eyes to catch any tears.

trevor then lets his hand fall to yours, intertwining your fingers and pulling you into the house. “we’re gonna go back to my dorm, to talk.” trevor says, looking at jack. his eyes move over to yours, silently asking you if it’s okay with you.

“it’s okay, j,” you reassure him. “we’ll see you guys tomorrow or something, okay?” jordan and jack both nod, and trevor is leading you out of the house towards the street.

it’s quiet for a few moments, and you don’t blame him. it’s the first time other than social media that you’ve seen him in four months and it wasn’t necessarily under the best conditions. you would’ve liked it to not be at a party - but it is what it is.

“i understand why you didn’t tell me, y/n.” trevor breaks the silence, and you glance over at him to see him staring straight ahead. “and i don’t blame you for it, either. i knew your mom wasn’t in your life, and of course i didn’t want to ask why. but i wish you had told me. god i just, i want to show you the love you deserve, y/n. i want to love you. i do love you. i just, i need to prove that to you and i’ll take as long as it takes.”

you squeeze trevor’s hand, and you’re thankful that trevor’s dorm is only right down the street. the night is chillier than it was when you first left for the party and you were cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. “i know you do. i just, i panicked. you’re the first boy i was ever serious with, and no one other than my parents and friends of course told me they loved me. i never felt like i was capable of love, because, how could my own mom claim that she loved me, but then one day just disappeared from my life? her own child. that she gave birth to. she never loved me, trev. not if she did that.

“then it’s her loss, isn’t it? wherever she is, she’s gonna see your name, y/n m/n. she’s gonna see the amazing, incredible, phenomenal girl that you’ve become. the same girl that’s going to change the world some day. and i hope she’s kicking herself everyday for walking out on you and your dad, but god you guys are so much better without her in your lives. i love you, y/n. i never stopped.” trevor halts in his tracks, making you come to a stop as well. “and i want you. i want all of you. your good days, your bad days, the days you don’t feel lovable. and it is perfectly okay if you don’t say you love me back, because we can work on that. i’ll stay. i promise. you have my word.

you practically throw yourself into his chest, arms wrapping around his neck and your fingers curling in his hair. “i’m gonna hold you to this, z.”

“do you wanna stay the night?” he asks quietly, his hand running through your hair. “we can do more talking, if you’d like. i’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“i’d like that, trev. i’d like that a lot.” you answer quietly, looking up at the boy that’s already looking down at you.

the boy that you love.

[matbarzyy]

Wasted Love (part 3) [T.S.]

A/N: I have no motivation to write so enjoy this even though I was supposed to make this chapter a lot longer. Hopefully I’ll be back with the rest of this series soon but who knows at this point lolz (getting this degree is going to end me)

Word count: 1932

.

Easter brought about yet another event at the rink. Alessia was quietly finishing up work in her office when 5pm rolled around, and she stretched into her seat before reaching for her phone. One last text from Claire had gone unanswered, but it was only one last confirmation of their plans for the night so Alessia didn’t make much of it.

Fridays were the only days everyone could really leave work on time, so she got up from her desk and began gathering her essentials back in her purse. She had plenty of time to get out, Claire was only meant to meet her in twenty minutes and they were hanging out at the bar across the street.

Ever since she had started taking time to be with the team after work Alessia had realised that letting Jordan believe she was working late was the best way for her to get some time with a friend.

“Allie let’s go!” Tyler barged into her office without so much as a knock. It startled her enough to make her jump, and she got ready to tell him off, the words about to leave her mouth until she saw the look of excitement on his face.

“Go where?” She softened, putting her bag over her shoulder.

“Come on,” he bounced on his feet and pulled her from behind her desk to drag her through the facility.

“What’s got you so excited?” Alessia exclaimed as she stumbled after him, following blindly and dodging a few people along the way.

She didn’t have to think much to know he was taking her to the rink, but what she didn’t understand was why. Tonight was a family skate, players with their wives and girlfriends, kids and other relatives. Alessia didn’t fit in there and she had already told Tyler she had other plans.

Tyler stopped abruptly when they reached their destination, and in her course Alessia almost sent them both toppling over. She still collided into his back, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Look,” he motioned to the ring, decorated with a banner for the event and coloured fairy lights all over the place.

Families were on the ice, Alessia was able to spot Jamie among the others. The youngest players were messing around although mindful of the kids around, and the older ones taught their kids how to skate. Some held their babies, making them discover what being on the ice felt like for the first time.

Tonight was special and Alessia didn’t want to be in the middle of it. This was their own little universe, it was intimate and she was just one of their coworkers.

“Why do you want me to go?” She asked quietly because Tyler had mentioned she should come at least three times this week.

“Because now you’re with us, you should get to enjoy the fun parts of the job too. Weren’t you supposed to meet with a friend tonight?” He asked, watching her nod slowly. “Why don’t you tell her to come in, we’ll get her a pair of skates, it’ll be fun for everyone.”

Tyler’s excitement had died down, but he was still looking at her with the same expectant look in his eyes. His voice was calm, he used that soothing tone he always took to reassure her whenever she was stressed or upset, yet she still hesitated.

Jordan was the main thing on Alessia’s mind, and not in a positive way. His frustration about her staying out after work was still growing, the whole thing had escalated and Alessia didn’t want to upset him further.

“Ty, I really can’t stay late,”

“It’s five,” Tyler almost whined. “Live a little!” He made his tone cheerful again to get her to cave in.

He knew he had won the second she shook her head with a sigh, taking her phone out of her bag and texting Claire about the change of plans. She was too busy typing to see the way he beamed, but had Jamie been around he would have surely given Tyler the disapproving look he was growing accustomed to whenever he was around Allie.

What she did see was the way he bounced on his feet again as he got impatient waiting for her, and the corners of her lips rose. He could be such a child sometimes.

“Alright Seguin,” Alessia followed him to get a pair of skates, sitting on a bench to lace them. “You’re lucky I actually like skating,”

“Oh yeah?” His own skates replaced his shoes in what felt like half a second to Alessia. “Need help?” He noticed her pulling at the laces.

“I’m good,” she refused, finishing up fast enough and getting up again. The tightness around her feet was familiar, and she suddenly felt more excited about stepping onto the ice.

“Show me what you got,” Tyler motioned for her to go first.

In her confidence, Alessia forgot how many kids were on the ice on top of a bunch of reckless hockey players. She started off just fine and Tyler remained behind to watch, laughing at the way she showed off her skills, but as soon as a little girl cut off her trajectory she lost her balance.

Tyler stepped on the ice, gliding slowly to come help, but with a few awkward waves of her arms she almost regained her stability. She would have been just fine if someone hadn’t skated fast right next to her at that exact moment, startling her again and making her fall backwards.

Alessia’s exclamation when she hit the ice had Tyler rushing to be next to her in a few seconds.

“Are you okay?” He worried immediately, trying to see if she was hurt.

“You get slammed into the boards ten times harder and keep playing,” she winced as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Of course I’m okay,” she reassured him and accepted his hand to get back to her feet. “Thanks,”

“I can see you’re a pro,” Tyler chuckled now that he was sure she was fine. “Thanks for the demo, champ.”

“I can skate!” Alessia defended herself, glaring at him and letting go of his hand to skate ahead of him, trying to prove her point.

“Yeah sure,” he laughed and ignored his protests, easily getting in front of her and turning around to skate backwards with her hands in his. “Let me just make sure you don’t end up on your ass again in less than ten seconds,”

“Rude,” she snorted but made no move to get out his hold.

They skated hand in hand for a while until Alessia’s phone pinged with yet another text that let her know Claire made it to the rink. They parted so that she could catch up with her friend and the two ended up holding hands as they talked and skated together.

“So this is your life now, uh?” Claire asked as they took a break on a bench.

“I mean, it’s actual work during the day but yeah,” Alessia leaned back against the wall behind them, taking in what she had achieved. “It still feels crazy that I made it here all on my own,”

“Well it’s not like Jordan would’ve been any help,” her friend snorted, earning a glare. “Oh come on,”

“You always make him sound so bad, we’ve been together for ages,” Alessia sighed and pouted a little, making her turn softer as she replied.

“No, you make him sound bad and I just put it in a less concealed way.” Claire brought her knee up on the bench to look at her. “When’s the last time you actually had a good time being around him?”

“We get along great at home,” her tone became defensive and Claire knew better than to try to have this conversation again.

“Okay,” she decided to drop it and stood back up. “Come on, let’s get back to it,”

Tyler saw them coming and stopped to let them step onto the ice without being trampled by the rest of the team. Most kids were tired now and off the ice, so things were getting a little rowdy.

“Ladies,” he motioned for them to go first, giving Alessia his stupidest grin to make her laugh.

“This is the first time you actually look like you have manners,” she teased because of something that had happened earlier during the week.

“Excuse me?” Tyler gasped, his hand over his hard to show his offense.

“You eat like an animal!” Alessia threw back, earning an eye roll and a whine from him.

“It was one time!” He complained before starting to make excuses for himself. “It didn’t have breakfast before practice and I was running late for a meeting, I had to be fast!”

“You’re disgusting,” she chuckled in response while Claire watched from the side, amused at the exchange.

“Oh I’m disgusting? You sure you wanna play that card in this situation?” He slowly inched closer to her, and since Alessia was facing him and had no chance of escaping by skating backwards she immediately started warning him.

“Tyler I swear to god I will- FUCK!” She screamed as he threw her over his shoulder and kept on skating. “I’ll kill you!” She tried to hit him but he was laughing too hard to care.

“Take it back!” He sped up, taking advantage of the space the others were clearing now that they were staring at the scene he was causing.

“Put me down you freak!” Alessia tried to wriggle out of his grasp and yelped when she felt his grip was less tight. At this speed she was too scared to fall from his shoulder if she moved too much.

“Insulting me isn’t helping,” Tyler said in a sing-song voice, a shit-eating grin taking up most of his face. He thought the situation was hilarious and he loved being the centre of attention.

“I’m sorry! You’re not disgusting! Just put me down!” Alessia pleaded, holding onto his jersey for dear life.

“There,” he laughed, helping her get steady on her skates. “See, that wasn’t so hard,”

“I hate you,” she grumbled as she adjusted her clothes and regained her balance.

Tyler gave her a playful eyeroll and held his hand out for her, which she didn’t hesitate to take so that they could skate back to the other side of the rink where Claire had stayed through the whole scene. She gave Alessia an unreadable look as she joined her again, and after skating and talking to them for a while Tyler went back to his team.

“You know…” Claire trailed off for a second, trying to find the right words as she once more noticed Tyler glancing back at them while he was supposedly busy with his friends. “I wouldn’t encourage you to like… cheat on someone, but that guy looks like he’s into you and he’s already a million times nicer than Jordan.” She eventually let out.

“Tyler?” Alessia almost choked on air. “No, god where did you get that idea? I’m sure he’s not interested, and it’s not like I’d be either. Jordan is… I’m with him and that’s not going to change anytime soon. I’d never do that to him.”

“I’m not sure Jordan thinks of you as highly as you think of him,” She watched as her friend shut her out once more, so she held back a sigh and tried once more to knock some sense into her. “Keep this one around, he looks like he’s a good friend for you.”

.

tags:  @itrocksmysocks​ @kerwritesthings​ @pupsandpucks @shawnsreputation​ @whythough1319 @smit41​ @glassdanse​ @fiveholegoal​ @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @thefootballfaithfull

tumblr decided to be a bitch with the tags, strikethrough means I couldn’t get the tag to work.

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[explosionshark]

how to live here!

here's a special deleted scene that was supposed to go in one of the chapters after rachel and chloe start fighting, but i never really found a place where it made sense. but i always liked it too much to delete it.

The first time Chloe had talked about hanging out in a junkyard, Max had kind of assumed she’d been joking.

She’s been here a few times already since her return to Arcadia Bay, but the novelty of it still hasn’t worn off. Chloe doesn’t seem to mind, letting her wander off, camera in hand, to explore and take photos by herself until she’s halfway through a roll of film and finally satisfied.

Max lets the sound of breaking glass lead her back to Chloe and snaps one more picture. Chloe, broken off hockey stick poised at the highest arc of a big swing, aimed at the sun-bleached head of a mannequin perched atop a splintered milk crate like a fucked up golf ball on a tee.

The arc of the swing is completed. The head goes flying with a sharp crack, landing in a pile of scrap a few feet away. Chloe holds the stick up over her head and cheers.

“You get that, Max?” she calls over her shoulder. “One for the highlight reel.”

“Got it,” Max confirms, reaching up to withdraw the Polaroid as it’s ejected from the camera. She closes the distance between them to show Chloe the shot.

“Sick,” Chloe says, and then twirls the stick in her fingers. “Y’know, I never used to allow press in here before, but maybe that was a mistake. A few more like that and maybe I can finally catch some attention from the big leagues.”

“I can’t imagine they can ignore skills like yours for very long,” Max grins, leaning up on her tiptoes and craning her neck to try to spot the mannequin head in the garbage.

Chloe grins again and mimes another swing. “Wanna take a shot? Ride out my hot streak?”

“I’m good,” Max says.

Chloe nods and shrugs and swings again abruptly, for real, putting the end of the hockey stick through the screen of a boxy old TV on the ground suddenly and loudly enough to make Max jump.

“You sure?” She props a boot on the corner of the TV to hold it in place as she yanks the stick loose. “It’s hella cathartic. You’ve always struck me as having more rage than you’re willing to own up to.”

“Do I really?” Max asks, a little alarmed.

“Maybe I’m projecting,” Chloe concedes.

They wander further, Max trailing behind as Chloe beats the ever-loving shit out of anything even vaguely breakable in her path.

“Remember when you actually played?” Max asks, after the fifteenth minute of uninterrupted smashing.

Chloe pauses, turning on her heel and drawing the bandage on her arm across her forehead to wipe away a bead of sweat. “Oh hell yeah. They called me The Destroyer.”

“No they didn’t,” Max rolls her eyes. “Only you called yourself that.”

“Me and both our dads,” Chloe points out. “Yours even made a sign.”

“Oh yeah,” Max laughs. “Y’know, I think you were the hockey hooligan kid he always wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved when I quit the team.”

Her dad was a huge hockey fan and had been elated when she and Chloe had agreed when he showed them the newspaper ad he’d found seeking players for the local youth hockey team. William and their mothers had been a little more hesitant, Max remembered, but no one enough to really object to their joining.

Chloe took to it immediately, aggressive, competitive, and already more naturally athletic than Max had ever been. Max’s tenure was only a week long, but she’d remained a devoted fan of the team long after, going along with her parents to every game, home and away.

“Relieved, I think,” Chloe speculates. “You were a really small twelve year old.”

“I was appropriately sized for twelve,” Max protests. “You were tall.”

“Pint-sized,” Chloe teases. “Microscopic. Besides, you never had the heart for it. The bloodlust.”

“I liked the skating part. But yeah, you always had more fun with it than me. Did you ever get back to sports?”

Chloe shakes her head, quick and jerky, almost offended. “I never liked sports. I liked hockey ‘cause you guys would always come to my games and stuff. But then…after…”

Chloe missed the first couple weeks of practice, after William had died. It was Max’s dad that got her to go back, at Joyce’s insistence, hoping that the sport could be an outlet, that trying to preserve as much normalcy as possible would help Chloe deal with her grief.

Max and her dad had stayed in the bleachers through that first practice without William. Chloe’s play had been sloppier, and she’d left the ice early, face splotchy and red, thick hot tears running down her face into her jersey. It hadn’t gotten easier from there. It made sense that Chloe had stopped going entirely once Max’s family had moved.

“Anyway, can you even imagine me playing for Blackwell?” Chloe scoffs, brings the hockey stick down on the windshield of an old beat up car. The first blow sends a spiderweb of cracks all through the glass. The second penetrates, a small, fist-sized hole. The third, fourth, and fifth obliterate it completely.

Max closes her eyes, chases the images of a young, grief-stricken Chloe from her mind with this new fantasy. Chloe, hair undyed, strutting through the halls in a red and white letterman jacket. Chloe doing keg stands with Logan and Zach. Chloe with girls like Victoria and Juliet hanging off her arms. Chloe completely and totally ignoring a nerd like her.

“Okay, it’s a little weird,” Max admits, feeling a little embarrassed for the irrational churning in her gut. “You’ve never really been a joiner, huh?”

“Organized sports are so not punk rock,” Chloe says obnoxiously.

“It’s kind of hard to imagine you at Blackwell at all,” Max admits. “I wish I’d come back sooner. Y’know, before you left.”

Chloe’s quiet and Max knew it was a risk to go there at all, but it feels too true to keep to herself so she keeps speaking.

“I didn’t choose to be gone, but,” is it brave or stupid to do this now, actually? Has Chloe been waiting for an apology or will this just make things needlessly awkward and uncomfortable and painful? “I mean I wish I’d handled it differently. That we’d talked more while I’d been away.”

“Yeah,” Chloe shrugs. It feels like Max is on the verge of losing her, so she hurries on before the silence between them stretches too far.

“Can I be honest with you?” Max asks, stomach twisting in knots.

Chloe raises an eyebrow and nods for her to continue.

“I kind of thought,” she pauses and winces. “I mean, I was a little afraid that after I left you just. Wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That you’d replace me.”

“Max, what the fuck?” Chloe lets the words out in a harsh exhale and Max knows that tone of voice. Knows she’s pissed off for real, now.

“I know,” Max cringes, scrubbing a hand down her face. “But, I mean, you were always the cool one, right? And you were going into high school and I was still sleeping with a teddy bear and—”

“This is such bullshit,” Chloe’s voice cracks and Max was not expecting that. “You’re not just— You can’t just replace a best friend! I fucking needed you. I was so… I needed you so much and you hung me out to dry because you were scared I’d stop thinking you were cool?”

“No,” Max hurries to clarify, feeling appropriately breathless for the desperate, drowning sensation overwhelming her. “No, not like that. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. So, I just kept putting it off, y’know? Like with homework. Remember how many times my mom had to bail me out because I’d wait too long on finishing a project and it wouldn’t be ready by the due date? Only no one could bail me out this time. And the longer I waited, the worse I felt, the more sure I was that you hated me, that you’d scream at me and tell me to stay out of your life. And I was too scared to face that so I…”

“I never hated you,” Chloe says, face caught somewhere between fury and despair. “Fuck, for the longest time all I wanted was to leave here, to be where you were instead.”

“The night you called me,” Max cuts in gently, proud at least when her voice doesn’t shake, “when you tried to run away, I was so scared for you. And I felt guilty because I realized I was wrong, that you still wanted to be my friend, and I knew I didn’t deserve it. I cried myself sick on the ride down with my mom to pick you up. It really freaked her out. But when we got there you just hugged me and you let me hold your hand the entire way back to Arcadia Bay.”

Chloe stays silent, chewing her lip hard enough to make Max wince.

“And even after, even though we were talking again the entire time I was away I’d think about being back here instead. I think about all the years I missed with you and I get mad because it feels kind of like my fault. Like if I’d tried harder it wouldn’t have taken this long. But I can’t fix that now, I know, I’m just glad we’re here now.”

Chloe shakes her head, rough, and throws the beat up hockey stick into a pile behind her. “Max, you fucking—”

She cuts herself and stomps over and Max isn’t sure what she was expecting, but she’s definitely surprised when Chloe wraps her arms around her, drags her close until there’s almost no space between them.

As tight as the hug is, Chloe’s hands hovering over her back are gentle. She’s quiet but her breathing’s rough. It takes a long time for her to speak again; when she does her voice is shaky, quiet. “I never, ever hated you, but I was pissed at you for a really long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Max tries to say but Chloe squeezes her tighter until she falls quiet.

“I got tired of it,” Chloe says. “And it wasn’t fair, either. Not really. We were just kids. God, I fucked so many things up so much worse than that. You don’t know how bad. If you did, you’d think I’m so pathetic. You’d hate it.”

“Chloe Price, you’re so many things, but pathetic has never been one of them,” Max insists, a little startled by the steel in her voice. Chloe tenses in her arms, but doesn’t move away so Max continues, gentler, “I wish I’d been here more. I know you weren’t alone the whole time but still, if I could go back and change anything it’d be trying harder to be a bigger part of your life. It’d be not letting it take so long to get here.”

It’s stupid, she knows, it’s ridiculous to think she could have prevented any of the hard knocks Chloe had taken in her absence but the thing is she’ll never know and Max thinks that she’ll probably always feel responsible somehow.

“God, imagine if we’d had a few years together at Black-Hell,” Chloe says and releases her, finally. She stays close, pushes some hair out of Max’s face. “We would have gotten into so much trouble. Me, you and…” She trails off with a wince but doesn’t linger. “You could have cheated off my science papers. I’d trade you rides around the Bay for homework.”

“Hey,” Max laughs. “Presumptuous. How do you know I would have compromised my morals like that?”

“Oh, you would have,” Chloe says, laugh all low and breathy. “When have you ever been able to say no to these baby blues?”

She bats her lashes facetiously, but the blush staining Max’s face is very real. “Okay, whatever. What else would we have done?”

“Oh, pranks,” Chloe says. “No doubt. We would have pranked it up so hard on those nerds. I always had this idea about semi-permanent hair dye and Victoria’s shampoo bottles, but I never lived in the dorms. And for some reason, Rachel refuses to be my inside man on this one.”

“I’d be down,” Max blurts out, not sure what the sudden pained look on Chloe’s face could have been leading to, but desperate to head it off.

“Wait, for real?” Chloe asks, appropriately distracted and Max realizes suddenly that her hypothetical assent to collusion had just been offered in practice.

“Uh, I mean—”

“No take-backs,” Chloe crows, gleefully. “Holy shit, dude, yes. Okay, I’ve got it worked out pretty well, this is something I’ve been sitting on for a few years at least. First, we’ll need a distraction…”

Chloe’s plan is elaborate, but thorough, and by the time she’s done laying out the details Max isn’t sure she’ll be able to follow through, but she does know that whatever lingering doubts about their friendship she’d had this morning were founded in one-sided insecurity.

“Let me sleep on it,” she says, finally.

“Max,” Chloe whines. “You promised.”

“I did not.”

“I mean, practically.”

“No, I didn’t.”

It’s almost like being a kid again, arguing about something pointless under the midday sun, a little dehydrated but having too much fun together to do something sensible like go back inside. Max has missed this for so long.

She’s deliriously happy she won’t ever have to miss it again.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. “Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

--

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That���s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

[shinymooncolor]

@lumosinlove most recent chapter was a rollercoaster of crying, yelling and a lot of love for her oc’s. Can we get a round of applause for NatALLY? ❤️

I promise Prague will come up soon, just had to react to the gem that was the last chapter 🏳️‍🌈

So here’s a little sweater weather chat for you as well 😍

(Sergei and Kuny texts in Russian, but to make it easier - it’s in English 😜)

Sweater weather chat #11

Sergei goes into dad-mode. Kasey considers murder. Kuny is a cat. Nado trolls. And he’s got some creative threats. Natalie and Lily are amazing. Walker has a good idea. We struggle with metaphors. So many rainbows. James organizes a “let’s protect Re at all costs” schedule. Sunny texts Hank. Dumo is Dumo ❤️

—-

Dumo: sergei. Hey. I wanted to know how you’re doing.

Sergei: are you ask if I support cap or are you ask if I am ok?

Dumo: you know me too well, old friend.

Sergei: I do not share views with my home on all things.

Dumo: I know. I’m sorry. But we need to support Sirius, and Remus, for that matter, as a team. I need to know I’ve got my best friend with me.

Sergei: I support. We win more. I play my time for Russia. Is ok.

Dumo: what about Kuny?

Sergei: I talk to him. No problem. He is young. Different age.

Dumo: he doesn’t have to say anything. We can keep media off of him but they might ask from Russian media? How can we protect him. Alice is on it. But.

Sergei: Pascal. I raise that boy from he 17. Anya and I not let him ruin national career. But I know him too. He is a good boy and he will support his cap.

Dumo: can I add sunny?

Sergei added Sunny to the chat

Sunny: well that was a shit show. Thank the hockey gods we didn’t have social media when we were babies

Dumo: hehe they’d have never let Sergei back into Russia. 😂

Sergei: I know you have picture. I have too.

Sunny: what’s the plan? I’m not afraid to take a misconduct and a ban if someone says shit

Dumo: it won’t help. But I get it. All star is not going to be fun for him. At least cherry is no longer on tv to say something.

—-

Sergei: hey kid, how are you?

Evgeni: it’s crazy. I mean. He seemed happier but it was so bad the way it was done. I’m really sad for them.

Sergei: I know. No one should have to experience that. Being forced. But kid, how’re you? Anyone tried to get comments?

Evgeni: I... yes... but I don’t know what to say. I don’t care. But. What can i say? I want to play for home. 😟

Sergei: I know. You’ve done two great worlds as a senior, one Olympic and they would be crazy not to pick you. But you know them. You know what it’s like, what they say.

Evgeni: but. He’s my captain. I don’t know. Will you say?

Sergei: I’m old. I’ve done my national duty, we’re happy here. If I can’t come home because i support my friend and captain. I’ll stay. We can try and keep them off of you ok? Alice knows this and she will help. You’re already not their favorite because you pretend to be stupid. But they’re going to be asking from home soon. They’ll expect you to denounce it.

Sergei: I just want to say I love you kid. And I support you. But remember the team is your family too.

Evgeni: I know. Shit. I’m scared. And I’m not even gay. It’s just. I know people joke about me and nado.

Sergei: I think malkin got us covered there. Half the world seems convinced him and Crosby has a secret affair. Don’t worry kid. We’ll work it out.

Evgeni: hehe they do look at each other a lot. And they always fight whenever someone takes the other one down.

Sergei: you fight everyone. And you’ll have to, even more now. They’re going to be mean about this. They’re going to come for us. You have to be strong, kid.

Evgeni: yeah. Don’t care what they say.

Sergei: I know. How’s Nado?

Evgeni: he’s okay. Mostly shocked but he’s already started fighting with people online. Blizzard too.

Sergei: be careful, kid. You’ve got a lot to lose to. Just think before you post?

Evgeni: I will dadddddd

Sergei: shut up. See you for practice. Don’t be late.

—-

Siriusly left the group chat

Blizzard: I DONT CARE IM GOING TO FUCKING MURDER EVERYONE WHO EVEN THINKS ABOUT SAYING SHIT

Prongstar: we’re going to divide and conquer. We need to support Re.

CarbO’Hara: send us a schedule. Hehe also. I’m with kase on this

Nadotheman: fuck yeah.

RussianGod: 🤬👊

Sunnysideup: hank messaged me that the rangers are going to send out a statement in support of an open league for all at least. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 Pens too it seems.

Krisvolley: yeah looking at the all star it’s really cool. @carbo’hara your brother started it?

CarbO’Hara: yeah big bro 😜👊🏳️‍🌈

Walkietalkie: I think it’s safe to assume that other than the snakes, we won’t really get much shit. I know some are going to be stuck up shits but. I’ve got faith. Also way to go finno. 😜😜😜 two birds in your lap is better than one on your head or whatever it is

LeWilliam: you having a stroke? That’s not how the metaphor is.

Walkietalkie: just congratulating my future brother in law. ❤️🏳️‍🌈also hey why don’t we all wear rainbows to next practice? I bet Alice can whip something up? We can get bots and Marls to comment too? 😎

Prongstar: YES! Thanks walks! Also brother in law? You marrying Alex? 🤣

Walkietalkie: naw man. I’m gonna woo noelle, marry her, build her a house and make a bunch of hockey babies. We’re gonna be a dynasty. 😍

Logantremblayzzz: you gotta ask me first. But I like you and she’s happy. Also. Ew don’t talk a about making babies with my sister 😳

Walkietalkie: tell leo to get his hands outta carb’s pants then. They’re getting freaky without you bro.

Logantremblayzzz: YOU PROMISED.

Newt-leo: sorry lo. Also it’s a lie. He was helping me tuck in my shirt. Also walker isn’t even here.

Prongstar: sure. Kuny is hogging all the nachos. If you want any better get in here.

Ollibear: so I’m cat sitting for the terrible twins at their house while you all watch all stars and comfort re? I feel left out 😫

Blizzard: sorry Olli bear. If it helps, you can come and sit in my lap. James said no and my girlfriend is being weird with lily.

Timmyforrealz: I wanna sit in your lap too kasey.

Prongstar: oh you’re too late. He’s got a lap full of Russian enforcer.

CarbO’Hara: I don’t understand the physics of how a giant like that can curl into such a small ball of enforcer. It’s cute. Gotta get a pic.

Nadotheman: careful blizzard. He’s like a cat, once he’s comfy he won’t move. He even purrs if you scratch the back of his neck. 😂

Newt-leo: 🦁🦁🦁

——

NatALLY: ladies. We need to get some food going for Re. Lils and I’ve got it covered for the weekend for now. Anyone check on the disaster twins?

Celeste: Apparently Nado is already making problems online. Alice yelled for 20 minutes at dumo to talk to him.

GingerLily: what did he do?

Celeste: I’m not sure. Something about spamming someone with rainbows and threatening a journalist to run him over with the Zamboni.

Anyaismyname: they came here yesterday. Kuny and Sergei need talk and decide how to handle Russia media. I helped Nado. Was fun. He made Twitter @STILLMYCAPTAINBLACK. Is cute.

NatALLY: I followed. Fuck he’s hilarious. Hahahahaha. Also Kuny showed up at Re’s. That guy can smell nachos across a whole fucking city

—-

Nat: hey Jackie. Great work on the Twitter. Might I get the login? Just thinking you’ll need an administrator when you guys take the ice.

Nado: hey nat. Of course. Already shared it with Olli, kris and timmers. He he. Bitch ass trolls won’t know what hit them.

Nat: they wont. Thanks man, this is brilliant.

Nado: @STILLMYCAPTAINBLACK

PASSWORD: SNAPEISASLEAZEBALL

NatALLY: when did you get so smart?

Nado: honestly it’s mostly Kuny. I know we laugh at his English but the guy is fucking smart you know? Man he’s already trolled some Russians. Sergei and Sunny both refused to translate.

[maattamatthews]

running into johnny beecher after leaving it off on like an awkward note after a big win and ur both kinda like wow ok i still love u

I hope this is what you’re looking for 🥺

Your roommate dragged you to the Michigan versus Notre Dame game, despite you and Johnny not being together anymore. You and Johnny broke up a few weeks ago, but you still loved him. Michigan was down by two, and there were 10 minutes left in the third period. So there you were, sitting in Yost, cheering along with everyone else as your eyes followed the vibrant number 17 skating across the ice, scoring a goal. The team crowded around Johnny before they skated back to the bench, celebrating their single goal deficit. 

“There goes your boy!” Your roommate, Y/R/N, exclaimed.

“He’s not my boy anymore,” You said.

“He will always be your boy, don’t kid yourself.”

“Yeah whatever,” you said as yous at back down in your seat.

After Johnny’s goal, the crowd was electric and the boys had a fire lit under their asses. Michigan came back and scored two more before the final buzzer. You knew that the boys would be throwing a party tonight, and you knew that your roommate would drag you there with her. And that’s just what happened.

“Why are we goinggggggg?” You whined.

“Because the boys won, and you’re still friends with them despite what happened with Johnny.”

“Ugh,” you groaned as she dragged you by the arm into the crowded living room of the hockey house. You trudged into the living room where the party was going already. You scanned the room for any sign of alcohol that you could quickly down because you knew that you couldn’t handle tonight sober. “Did you bring anything to drink?” You asked Y/R/N.

“No! Go see if the boys have anything in the kitchen!” She shouted over the loud music playing.

You nodded and headed off in the direction of the kitchen. When you walked into the kitchen, you spotted the tall ginger who you had become close to! You walked  up to him and gently placed your hand on his arm, “Do you know where a girl can get a drink around here?”

Cam turned quickly to face you. “Y/N!” He shouted as he wrapped you in a hug.

“Hi Cammy,” you said as you hugged him back.

“How are you?” 

“In need of a drink,” you pleaded.

“Well, that can be arranged,” he said as he went to grab you a truly from the cooler near the back door. “Black cherry was always.”

“Thanks, bud,” you said as you cracked the top and took a long sip.

“Trying to blackout tonight?” Another voice asked you.

“God no, Nolan. Just trying to get comfortable. I haven’t been in the house in a while.” You told Nolan.

“Oh trust me, we know. That kid doesn’t go a damn day without talking about you.” Cam said as he handed Nolan a beer.

“Really?” You replied.

“Yeah, I really can’t.” A voice said from behind you. You turned to face the voice and find Johnny standing there, leaning against the door frame. “Wanna talk outside?”

“Sure,” you said before walking over to him, and out the back door.

You both sit on the back porch swing, not speaking. You stare at the rips in your jeans, while Johnny sips at his drink. 

“So,” you started. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know, us? Or I guess what we used to be.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“I just thought you should know that feelings are still here,” Johnny said.

“Yeah, I got that feeling when I was talking to Nolan and Cam.”

“Do you not feel the same?”

“Johnny, I do. I just don’t understand why we broke up then.” You turned to face him. “Everything was going so well, and then we both had to go through heartbreak.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it through, and I apologize for that. The guys were getting into my head about my contract and everything like that. Some of them kept saying that I should just end it now because I don’t wanna be stuck in a long-distance relationship if I signed. I was scared, and I acted stupidly. Y/N, I’m still in love with you.”

Johnny looked at you with teary eyes, searching in yours for an answer. Instead of speaking, you leaned forward and pressed your lips gently against his.

“I’m still in love with you too,” you said as you pulled away.

[yikesharringrove]

hello! i know you’re on a break and you don’t have to write this but i just thought of this and i’m a little obsessed with the idea so i thought i’d share! Imagine Olympian Steve and Billy, like snowboarder Billy and ice skater Steve (who could also be non-binary or gender non conforming) ?? and they are both super dedicated and they meet at the olympics one year and just hit it off, start dating in secret beacuse they don’t want the press that comes with being a olympic couple (part 1)

(part 2) and the only people that know are close friends but then when they show up for the olympics a few years after they met something happens to one of them, my thought is Billy totally crashes and gets hurt and steve doesn’t even know until after he preformed and he’s sitting with his coach and a reporter is giving an update on billy’s condition and steve overhears it and just breaks down, and people are filming him just sobbing his eyes out... (part 3) Steve ends up getting in the top three but they can barley stand on the podium they are so freaked out nobody’s telling them anything and he can’t even pull the significant other card to go see him because then he’s outing them and it’s very awful meanwhile Billy, whose doing pretty good just like a broken arm or something, is sitting in a hospital bed watching steve preform and being very proud and hen promptly freaking out because steve is suddenly bawling... (part 4) finally steve is able to go see billy and they are literally so relived to see he’s doing ok but they are both big time emotional and the internet is already theorizing about why steve was so freaked out so they decide to come out about their relationship and steve just plans on like casually mentioning it during an interview but billy decides to be extra and proposed to steve on live tv, they end up crying a lot more but obviously say yes (sorry this was so long)

-

This request has awakened my deep seeded LOVE of Shaun White. He was one of my first famous people crushes back when he was mostly skateboarding and let me TELL YOU the most recent winter olympic games, when he made his come back, and he almost didn’t get gold, but then he DID and the announcer went “the flying tomato flew again tonight!” I LOST IT!!!1

Plus I like the winter games more than the summer ones 🤷‍♀️

The beginning is loosely based off the fact that the Olympic Village is apparently just like, one big orgy the whole time lmao

-

“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

Billy, of course, knew who Steve Harrington is. His eyes had been glued to the screen in the PT room as he watched Steve compete, sakting beautifully in the Men’s Individuals to earn silver and make it look easy, helping the U.S. team to earn overall gold.

Granted, Billy had walked away with golds in slopestyle and halfpipe, and he wanted to celebrate.

Steve turned to Billy, dark eyes flicking over him.

“No thank you.” They turned back around, finishing their drink and placing the empty cup on the bar top.

“I’m, sorry?”

“I said no thank you.”

“No thank you to what?”

“To having sex with you.”

“I never said anything about having sex?”

“You slid over here, called me pretty, and gave me hard bedroom eyes. You wanna plow me, and I’m just not in the mood.” They went to push past Billy, put he took their wrist, holding loosely.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really did just come over to talk. I respect the hell out of you. You’re incredibly talented and just came onto the scene. I mean, this is your first Olympics, right?” They glanced at him through their lashes, nodding slowly. “I took me, like two games before I even got bronze. You’re a fucking good athlete. Just wanted to say.” He let go of their wrist. They bit their lip.

“You wanna buy me a drink? Keep telling me what a good athlete I am?” Billy grinned as they slip back into their stool.

-

Billy threw himself onto the couch, head resting in Steve’s lap. He groaned loudly, tracking Steve’s face for some kind of response.

He groaned again, louder this time. Steve bit their lip, trying not to laugh as they watched the tv.

He groaned one more time.

“Oh, gosh, Billy. Didn’t even notice you down here.”

They had stayed up all night that first night they met in person, had talked for hours about how they found their respective sports, what growing up was like.

Steve came from a little town in the Midwest. A little town in the Midwest that bred hockey players like nowhere else. Steve’s father had put them in hockey when they were young enough to stand on skates, but then Steve started showing a rapidly growing interest in figure skating, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Billy was always a skateboarder at heart. He grew up in California, bumming around the Venice Beach skate park with his friends whenever they could, skipping school to grind rails. And then his dad got married, and uprooted the whole family, moving them a few states over to fucking Utah. Billy figured snowboarding was close enough to skating that he could figure it out. So he did. And he loved it.

He and Steve had moved in together three years ago, almost exactly a year into their relationship. Steve wanted to begin working with a new coach, so Billy packed up his boards, and moved his shit back to California, Billy training most days at Mammoth Mountain.

“My body hurts.” He had been training hard, they both had, as the games were fast approaching.

“I mean, do you want me to actually help, or do you want me to help?” Steve’s long fingers were trailing along Billy’s chest. Billy just groaned.

“I gotta go ice. You can help later.” He tugged Steve down to press a kiss to their lips, heading off to fill the bathtub with ice, sink down low into it.

The opening ceremony was in less than two weeks, and Billy was fucking excited. He was in peak shape, had been perfecting his backside triple 1440 nosegrab.

He stretched out his sore muscles in the ice, made a mental note to get in with his PT tomorrow.

-

It had been a grueling week.

Billy had Steve had barely seen one another in between training and PT appointments and competing.

And of course the Men’s Figure Skating Final took place a few hours after the Men’s Slopestyle Final. Billy had already secured gold in the halfpipe.

Steve was sitting in their skates, stretching out before heading out to the ice.

They cleared their mind, going over their program again and again.

They got ready to take the ice.

They flew through their program, hitting every jump, every spin beautifully, trying not to cry as they left the ice.They knew they had fucking nailed it.

They stood, waiting for their marks.

“Steve! Steve! Have you heard about Billy Hargrove’s fall!” Steve’s head whipped around, staring at the reporter. “Aren’t you two friends?”

“Stevie, don’t pay them attention.” Their coach was trying to steer them away from the gaggle of cameras.

“No, I gotta, what happened to Billy?” They were trying to push back to the reporters. “What happened to Billy?”

“He fell in the slopestyle final! Had to be taken off in a gurney!” One of the reporters shouted back. Steve crumbled, let their coach take some of their weight.

“Steve, focus on your run.” They were shaking as they were led back to the bench, had tears streaming down their face.

“But, is Billy okay?” They didn’t even listen as their score was announced, as the crowd went fucking crazy for their gold metal.

And all Steve wanted was to get to Billy, to see if he was okay.

They were dragged on shaking legs to the podium, their face went, their hands trembling.

They had to stand there, listen to the U.S. National Anthem without fucking collapsing. They didn’t even give a fuck that they were ugly crying on international television.

And they couldn’t just say get me the FUCK to my boyfriend.

-

Billy was sitting in a hospital bed, his arm in a plaster cast

He had fucked up his elbow, completely dislocating it as he fell onto the hard snow. He was livid with himself for fucking up his slope style, was guaranteed at least bronze, but had come in sixth due to his nasty spill.

But he watched from the medical center as Steve skated so fucking perfectly in the finals, had set a new record for themself, the highest score they had ever gotten with an absolutely gorgeous program.

But something was, something was wrong with the way they stood on the pedestal, their tears were not celebratory as they appeared to be working themself into a panic.

And all Billy wanted was to get to Steve, to see if they were okay.

-

“Bill, oh my fucking God.” Steve just about threw themself onto Billy’s bed. They were fucking sobbing into his lap.

“Stevie, I’m okay. I’m good.”

“All they, all they said was the you were hurt, had to be taken off the course in a stretcher.”

“Yeah, I smashed myself pretty hard. But I’m okay. They fixed it.” Steve’s eyes were still all watery, made them looker even bigger.

“I just, I wanted to fucking scream at everyone to let me get to my boyfriend.” Billy trailed one hand down Steve’s face, just delicate fingers touching soft skin.

“We could tell people, if you want.” Billy had been extremely private about his sexuality throughout his career. He still had trouble coming to terms with himself, still had trouble getting his thoughts and feelings out from under his father’s thumb.

“We don’t have to.” Steve, on the other hand, had been sick of getting misgendered in interviews, had come out publicly with an Instagram post, a cute mirror selfie in a full face of makeup, a little yellow sundress Billy loved, and caption that just read They/Them.

“I want to. Want to tell the whole world how much I love you.”

-

Steve’s idea was just to mention it casually in an interview.

They had a string of interviews after their gold medal win, after they broke a personal record today.

But Billy had another plan.

He’s had the ring for close to eight months at this point, was just biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment.

And as he sat there, watching Steve smile so pretty at the reporter, he realized.

Now’s the time.

“You were extremely emotional on the stand after accepting your gold medal. Walk me through what you were feeling.”

“To be honest, it didn’t even register that I had won, and broken a personal score record. Someone had just informed me that my boyfriend had gotten hurt during the slopestyle finals, and I didn’t know if he was okay.”

“Your boyfriend? Billy Hargrove, then.”

“Yeah. I just heard he was in the hospital as I was waiting for my scores and I just kinda, kinda lost it.” Steve’s eyes trailed over to meet Billy’s, standing in the studio behind the camera.

He was holding the ring tightly in his hand, the one that wasn’t in a bulky cast.

Now or never.

“So, you and Billy Hargrove are currently in a relationship. How long has that been going on?” Steve gestured at Billy to join them on the couch. One of the crew members gestured for him to join them on the couch.

So he walked over, settled right in next to Steve.

“Since the last winter games, actually. That’s when we first met.” Billy grinned at Steve, leaned over to kiss them on the cheek. His palms were sweaty.

“Congratulations to you both!” Billy took a deep breath.

“It’s been really great! We live together and everything. Have a chubby little cat. The whole nine.”

The reporter laughed along with them, Billy’s leg was shaking.

“It’s easier dating an athlete, I think. They understand the rigor you got through training, how you put your body through Hell because you’re passionate about it.” Steve was using their hands to explain. Billy took a deep breath.

“So, you two have been completely quiet about your romantic relationship for these four years you’ve been together. Why did you choose to keep private, and why are you going public now?”

“Well, it was really hard for me when I heard Billy got hurt. I couldn’t just pull the significant other card to find out more information.”

“And we chose to stay private for a multitude of reasons. We mainly just wanted our careers to be the focus of our media attention and not our relationship.” Billy and Steve had spoken extensively about what they were going to say in the interview. Billy was incredibly private, didn’t really want to get into the whole my father physically abused me for being gay and I still have trouble accepting myself thing on public television. So they glossed over it.

“But things are going well?”

Now or never.

Billy’s heart was pounding in his ears. He could barely hear Steve over the sound of his own blood rushing. Was just able to tell when he finished speaking.

“It’s been a wonderful few years. In fact, it’s been so good, that, uh, I want it to never stop.” He took a deep breath. And slid off the couch.

Steve gasped as Billy settled on one knee on the floor, they had tears in their eyes when Billy smiled up at them, presented the pretty gold ring.

“Sweet Thing, you are the best thing to ever happen. You are kind, and compassionate, and so dedicated. I love everything about you, from how graceful you are on the ice, to how silly you are when it’s just the two of us. You are so perfect to me. I want my life to be exactly like these past four years have been, full of love, and laughter, and those snicker doodles you make just because you know I love them.”

Steve was openly bawling, clutching hands with the reporter.

“So, Stevie. Will you marry me?”

Steve launched themself at Billy, kissing his face, breathing yes yes yes into his skin, just barely remembering to mind his sore arm.

Billy took shaky breaths as he slid the ring on Steve’s finger.

-

Steve was tucked under Billy’s arm as they headed back to his room.

“I thought we had decided to just like, casually come out. I can’t believe you fucking proposed on live t.v.” Steve was staring at their ring.

“Been thinkin’ of proposals that are good enough for you for months. Figured, you know, might as well.”

“You coulda given me a Ring Pop in an alley outside of a biker bar and I still woulda said yes.”

“Yeah, but that clip has probably already gone viral. Now you can watch it whenever you wanna feel soft.” Steve scrambled for their phone, nose practically pressed against it as they looked for the clip.

Billy just laughed, shaking his head as he unlocked the door.

[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