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huggybug · 3 years

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drunk people do dumb things - brock boeser

inspired by ‘drunk people’ by chris lane | (brock’s texts are bolded)

word count: 1.4k

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“Y/n don’t do it” Your friends warned you but you ignored them as you unlocked your phone.

“I’m just going to congratulate him on his game” if it wasn’t for the alcohol flowing throw you, you wouldn’t even think about texting Brock. The breakup was about four months ago, he claimed that things were getting to complicated and he needed to focus on improving during the offseason. You were upset but you understood, it was always hockey first and it always would be with him. The two of you had broken up just before the playoffs and you had talked twice since. Once when you graduated from university and again when his team was knocked out of the running for the cup. The Canucks just beat the Sens 5-2 and Brock contributed two of those goals so you argued that he deserves some congratulations.

“Can we get it in writing that you’re going against us to do this because I don't need you bitching at us tomorrow” You glare at your friend before taking a shot and opening your phone.

Hey Boes, great game! Hope you’re celebrating tonight

You send the text and set your phone down, not expecting a fast reply. You direct your attention back to your friends who ordered a new round of drinks. When you’re on you way to the next bar, you open your phone to see a reply from Brock

Good to know you’re still watching.

As a Vancouverite, you grew up loving the Canucks and that hadn’t changed since your breakup. When you were dating, you became friends with the team but especially Quinn and Elias. You had stopped talking to the team since they were Brock’s friends but Quinn and Elias wouldn’t let you go that easily so you still would text them frequently, providing any major updates in your life as they did for you as well.

You left Brock’s text unanswered as you downed drink after drink, trying to find something but you weren't sure what. After another hour of drinking and talking to different guys, you were bored and you found yourself opening your texts to figure out if you could go see any of the guys you talked to. It seemed as though Brock’s name was screaming at you from the top of your messages and before you knew it, you were opening the conversation thread and typing out a message to him.

Hey, you up?

Yeah, what’s up?

It’s been a while… I miss you

I miss you too ;)

What’re you doing right now? Can I come meet you?

Brock dropped a pin

Be there in 10.

You texted your friends quickly to tell them you were leaving, leaving out every other detail before you stepped into the cool fall air outside. You got to the club faster than expected but you didn't let yourself think about what you were doing before you were inside, looking for the table. You saw them almost immediately. Brock was facing away from you but you could tell it was him and Bo, Quinn, Nils, and Elias. When you got closer, Elias jumped up and hugged you who was followed by Quinn.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn asked when he backed away. He and Elias formed a wall between you and Brock which they probably were proud of themselves for protecting you but Brock just moved around them and came to hug you.

“Hey baby” Brock whispered in your ear and you smiled. You knew it was a bad idea to meet up with him tonight and that you would probably regret it in the morning but you didn't care, you were happy right now and that's all that mattered.

“We’re going to go catch up, see you guys tomorrow” Brock announced to the table and you said goodbye, ignoring the confused looks from Quinn and Elias. They were hurt because you hadn't told them you were talking to Brock again but that again, was a problem to deal with tomorrow.

You walked out with Brock and let him take you to his apartment. Tonight, you were happy and even as Brock guided you to his bedroom, you couldn’t think of a reason to leave.

...

Sunday morning. The universal time of recovery and reflection of the mistakes that were made on Saturday night. You woke up with Brock’s arm holding your naked body and you slipped out of his bed as quickly and stealthily as possible. Before leaving, you left a note because you weren’t a complete asshole, Had to go, thanks for last night. It was weird to thank someone for sex but what else were you supposed to say?

You were sitting on your couch, wrapped in a blanket and drinking a Pedialyte in attempt to cure the hangover. You now felt the consequences of your actions and you wondered how someone who graduated from UBC summa cum laude got herself into the world’s dumbest situation, obviously it isn’t the case at 1 am.

Your phone had been going off all morning, your friends had tracked you last night when you left and they knew you went to Brock’s apartment so the group chat was going crazy. Quinn and Elias had both texted you separately multiple times as well as in the group chat between you three. You were the most shocked to see a text from Brock come through.

Can I call you?

You wanted to ignore him but it felt unfair. You seeked him out last night and it wasn’t right to just use him for one night. You answered with a quick ‘yes’ and almost immediately after your phone rang. You were confused because you knew morning skate was right now and you weren’t expecting a response until that was over but you answered anyway.

“Hello?” You could tell by the background noise that he was at the rink which made your confusion grow even more.

“Y/n, I can't do this” Brock sounded hurt and it killed you but you were unsure with what was wrong. He seemed fine last night and he was the one who broke up with you so there was no reason for him to be upset right now.

“Do what? Wait no, shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“I’m taking a break. Look, I was standing in the shower and I couldn't stop thinking about you. I can’t believe I fucking slipped up and met you last night” He was angry but you were angrier. Is he going to blame you for this? Sure, you were the one to text him first but he didn't have to answer or give you his location.

“What are you insinuating Brock? If it’s what I think it is I might come over there and kill you” You grumbled out. Your head hurt, you had already gotten sick more times than you could count and now Brock was being a dick.

“I just... I spent all summer trying to get over you and then I finally felt stable. I was able to think about something other than you but now I just want you to come back” You softened a bit but you were still agitated.

“Well sorry that I made the breakup you initiated hard for you. Don’t worry, I won't try to talk to you again” Now you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. You two were friends, maybe you didn't talk much but you cared about him and you knew he did too. Quinn had told you multiple times that Brock asked about you because he knew that you talked still.

“No that's not what I want” Brock seemed stressed but you weren’t in the mood to baby him and follow his instructions on how he wanted your relationship to be.

“Look Brock, its okay, drunk people do dumb things. I shouldn’t have texted you last night and you shouldn’t have taken me back to your place. Don’t let it get you down, we’re good. We didn't think about it until it was too late but we can’t take it back now. Get back to practice, it’s more important” It hurt that hockey was important, more important than you. That last part was never spoken out loud but you both knew it. It hung between you, making the silence on both ends deafening.

You didn’t wait for him to say goodbye before hanging up. You stared at your phone for a minute before throwing it down on the couch beside you. It was true, drunk people do dumb things and you were officially a victim of that statement.

#brock boeser #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks #nhl #nhl players #hockey players

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adam-banks2024 · 3 years

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Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago.

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness.

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say.

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.”

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--”

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.”

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up.

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face.

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path.

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

#the mighty ducks #the mighty ducks imagine #the mighty ducks x reader #mighty ducks #mighty ducks imagine #mighty ducks x reader #adam banks #adam banks imagine #adam banks x reader

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troubatrain · 3 years

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the times with an injury...

two blurbs following want you to want me

read the rest here!

Are you fucking kidding me?

Matthew was pressed, his hands up in the air that no one had gotten a call while you were face down on the field and not getting up. It had to be your ACL, Matthew knew by the way you weren’t getting up that meant it was bad. His face was red with anger, his own parents surprised by the way he was taking this one.

“Dude, she’ll be fine-” Brady tried to reason with him, genuinely worried about how close Matthew was getting ringing the ref’s neck himself.

“Do you see her? She’s not fucking getting up,” Matthew yells, his voice cracking and successfully shutting up the rest of his family who’d come out just to see you play. There was an ache in chest, the pain of watching someone he loved more than anything in this world down like that. There was guilt, one that made Matthew feel bad if he’d ever made you feel the same pain in your chest, and he was sure he had. It was too much, watching you clench your fist and lay there while your trainers inspected your leg the best they could from the field before they got you up, “What if she’s-”

Matthew couldn’t finish his thought, the idea of you not getting up was too much for him to handle and he knew if he went there - he’d start to spiral. You were finally up, arms around your trainers and limping off the field and Matthew knew you were holding back tears from the pain in your leg. He hopped up, telling his parents he’d call them later and running down to sit outside of your locker room just like you’d done a million times for him.

“Your boyfriend’s in a panic,” it was the first thing your trainer had told you once you finally had a chance to sit down. You weren’t surprised, hearing Matthew’s protests about no one getting called for taking you out like that from the field, “He’s been pacing in the hallway for almost fifteen minutes.”

“Can you send him home?” You ask, laying back and closing your eyes, “Or at least tell him to take his parents home too?”

“I don’t think he’s going to leave Y/N,” Your trainer sighs, knowing just how much of a nuisance Matthew could be if you weren’t feeling your best. He’d called your athletic trainers, and even his own, almost twice a day the last time you’d sprained your ankle. It was endearing, the way he’d do anything to see you get healthy despite how annoying it made him to others, “He can just stay with you…”

Matthew practically busted through the door, a sigh of relief leaving his body when he saw you smile at him like you weren’t waiting to hear back on whether or not you had a season ending surgery on the horizon, “Hey drama queen…”

“I’m dramatic? You know you just scared the shit out of me right,” Matthew sighs, grabbing a chair and sitting next to you. He laced his fingers with yours immediately, pressing a kiss to your interlocked hands, “I didn’t think you were getting up…”

“Now you know how I feel when you pull your I’m not fighting back to draw a penalty bullshit,” You quip back, raising your eyebrows at Matthew like you knew you were right. Matthew let himself be a punching bag from time to time, an attempt to play smarter than his opposition but you couldn’t stand it one bit.

“I won’t ever do it again I promise,” Matthew blurts out, his brows furrowed like this was something that was sincerely bothering him, “I’m sorry I’ve ever made you feel like that-”

“I’m okay, it’s okay,” You sat up, running a finger through his hair and curling a piece, watching the way his curls bounced back into place, “You have nothing to apologize for Matty…”

“I hated every single second of watching you lay on the ground like that,” Matthew whispers, letting you scratch at his scalp, “I love you, and I just don’t think I’d be whole again without you.”

“Me either,” You breath out, pressing a kiss to Matthew’s cheek, “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“Thanks for worrying about me,” Matthew grins back, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. A kiss that would have been sweet if he hadn’t been pressing all of his body weight directly onto your knee. He flew back when you winced in pain, “Shit, sorry baby.”

You shook your head, letting out a giggle at the daggers your athletic trainer was sending Matthew for making it worse. You pressed your lips to his softly, leaning back and letting your hand rest in his. It was a weird peaceful feeling, like if the news about your leg was as bad as you thought it would be, it’d still be okay because Matthew was there. He’d taken care of you dozens of times before, not always the best nurse in the world but he tried his hardest.

“Think you can come to Calgary for surgery, I know a few guys there…”

“I actually know this rat there, he might be able to help me out.”

***

Y/N….

Brady’s hand tapped your leg, trying to break you out of your trance. It happened too fast, the way Matthew’s head flew back and his body hit the ice and then time seemed to stop. The Saddledome was silent, hushed whispers about what happened to the Flames resident rat. Your hand gripped the seat, ignoring the sympathetic glaces from Matthew’s parents and family next to you. The playoffs were rough, and you knew with each passing round things would just get nastier but this wasn’t what you wanted to see.

“He’s up,” Brady whispered, disbelief in his voice that worried you even more. If Brady sounded that shocked Matthew wasn’t wheeled off the ice then that hit was worse than you realized.

You waited in that hallway for hours. The rest of the third period went by and you still didn’t have an update. The team had their media time and you’d heard the outrage over that hit but not one update about the condition of your boyfriend. You watched every member of that team leave the locker room, a few offers for a ride home or for someone to stay so you didn’t have to. You needed to stay, it’s what he would’ve done for you and it wouldn’t be fair for you not to be there for him.

Matthew emerged a few hours later, under a concussion protocol and mentally drained. He couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, looking at the way you were sleeping against the wall by the Flames locker room. His smile turned into a frown when he saw the dried tear stains on your cheeks, “Pretty girl…”

“Matty?” You mumble, rubbing your eyes while he comes into view. He looked like shit and you meant that in the most loving way you could, “What’s the verdict?”

“Concussion,” Matthew nods, reaffirming what you’d been afraid was true, “You should’ve gone home with my parents.”

“You’d stay for me,” You remind him of the time you’d barely sprained your ankle in a game and Matthew waited around for it to get checked out for hours. Not to mention the way he insisted on caring for you like your leg had fallen off. You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest, “That was scary.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” Matthew nods, a pain in his chest he couldn’t quite explain. Matthew knew he loved you, he’d always been sure of that, but the pull in chest knowing that you cried because of him? That shit was heartbreaking. It was all he could think about, a split second decision that could leave him in a position to not be able to come home to you. It solidified things for Matthew, the weight of the ring in his bedside table a bit heavier, “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize for things you can’t control,” You hum, leaning up to press your lips to his, “I was just-”

“Scared? I know the feeling,” Matthew teases, there had been a time or two since the time you started dating you really gave him a good scare on the field. Matthew played the tough guy act, but the second he got you alone he confessed how awful it felt to see you like that, “I’m fine babe, really, let’s get home okay? I could use some good old fashioned loving from my girl.”

“Pretty sure blowies aren’t included in concussion protocol Matthew-”

“I meant I just wanted to hold you, get your mind out of the gutter.”

#matthew tkachuk #blurbs #want you to want me blurbs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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princessphilly · 3 years

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Tag list: Tag list: @ohpuckyeah, @joelsfarabee, @besthockeyfics. @dreamer1430 @defiant-mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @tangercrosbyschultzfan25887

Join the tag list here!

CW: Angst, angst, angst.

Word count: 2916

Nina sighed as she snuggled her pillow. It sucked watching Sidney shake hands in the handshake line, the disappointing end to a good season. She sniffled as she watched Sidney stoically shake hands with the Flyers, disappointment and anger on his face.

This season, the Penguins had drawn the Islanders in the divisional semi-finals. After a hard-fought seven game series, the Pens had finally got past the Isles. However, the Flyers, surprisingly, made it past the Canes and the Battle of Pennsylvania was on. Unlike 2018, the Flyers won this time, in five games. Nina put her phone on vibrate, just in case Sidney called her.

However, Sidney didn’t call that night or for a fucking week. Nina was understanding at first but understanding turned into annoyance when pictures were posted of Sidney golfing with Kasperi, Brandon, and a couple of the single players. Nina just was glad she had the foresight to limit comments on her IG to approved commenters because she had no interest in people asking questions about him.

Scrolling her phone, Nina read a text from Marisa: has he called u yet?

No, Nina simply responded. She wasn’t going to call him first either. Let him have his bitch fit and golf. He didnt tell me he was going to go do that n im not his wife.

Nina’s phone rang and she answered. “Yes, Marisa?”

“Oh, Nina, he’s a douchebag. I can ask Kevin to slash him a couple of times next season,” Marisa commiserated.

Nina replied, “He hasn’t called me or texted me since that night. I haven’t tried to call him since Sunday because fuck that. I know he got his superstitions and everything but, no. Hell no.”

“I agree. Have you been out?”

Nina shook her head before saying, “I was finishing finals so I haven’t been out. Karesha told me we’re going out this coming Friday and, you know I don’t party like that but I will.”

“Give him something to miss,” Marisa advised.

Nina scoffed, “Something to miss? He’s lucky if I let him talk to me whenever he gets back.”

Sid groaned as he turned in his bed in Cole Harbour. He was so fucking pissed about the way the season ended; they finally got past the Isles only to get tripped up by fucking Giroux and his Flyers. Fucking Hart was a damn brick wall and fuck, Sidney could sense that his time in the game was coming to a swift close soon. For the past week and in a half, he had been in a funky snit, annoyed and needing to be away after golfing with the boys.

At the same time, he felt like shit. Sidney knew he shouldn’t have avoided Nina’s call; he was still raw from the loss and he didn’t want to expose Nina to that side. But, she hadn’t called or texted him since and Sidney didn’t know how to break the silence that he had created. Picking up his phone, Sidney blinked when he saw all of the messages on his lock screen. The team’s group chat had been busy last night.

Unlocking his phone, Sidney’s eyes bulged when he saw the messages. There were pictures of Nina out, with one of her friends, wearing a dress that was barely there. Her hair was falling straight over her shoulders but what really got Sidney’s attention was the fact that there were guys all around her. Then Nate sent a text; i guess ur single now. Told u not to go home without talking to her

“I’m a fuck up,” Sidney moaned.

“Yup, you are.”

Sidney blinked as he looked at his phone. He managed to call Tanger and Tanger didn’t look pleased.

“Sid, we’ve been friends for a long time but, I didn’t think you were this stupid,” Tanger scolded. “Really?”

“You know with the way the season ended,” Sidney began before Tanger cut him off.

“Nina knows that. She respects that. Nina’s not clingy or needy like some of the other girls. But, Cath told me you haven’t even called or texted her? Wow, Sid, wow.”

Sidney blushed as he listened to one of his closest friends berate him. Tanger was right. But how was he going to even apologize without looking like a bigger dummy?

“Well, you’re already acting like a dummy, Sid, so you might as well look like a bigger dummy,” Tanger snarked. “Nina isn’t like the other girls. She doesn’t need you.”

Sid gritted his teeth at that statement, especially since he knew that it was very true.

Sidney heard French yelling in the background before Tanger stated, “Cath thinks that despite being so good at hockey, you suck at being a person. And you made Nina cry when Cath last talked to her.”

Sidney wanted to slap himself. He made his pretty girl cry. “Fuck,” he yelled.

“Yeah, fuck. Fix it, Sid, instead of fucking yourself over forever.”

Sidney scrolled his phone after Tanger hung up on him. It looked like he was flying into Pittsburgh asap.

Nina sighed as she padded in her apartment. Last night was fun, going out with Karesha. They had just gone out to dinner, a jazz lounge, then ended the night at a rooftop bar. Nina knew people had been taking pictures of her all night and that people were wondering where Sidney was but that wasn’t her problem. There had been plenty of guys willing to take her home but Nina wasn’t interested in any of them either. She still wanted Sidney but fuck him too.

Her doorbell rang and Nina looked at the panel. It was Sidney with a pastry box and a wide grin on his face. Nina opened the door with a smile.

“Hi, pretty girl-”

Then she slammed it in his face, her grin growing wider as she loudly locked the door. Just like a man, coming back right when they realized she was getting attention from other men.

“Go away, Crosby, unless you want attention because you’re knocking on my door,” Nina yelled from the inside. Putting her earpods in, Nina cleaned her apartment for the umpteenth time, singing along.

Sidney gritted his teeth outside of Nina’s apartment. He was expecting her to let him in, yell at him, then he would charm his way back in. He didn’t expect to get the door slammed in his face and being told to leave. His desire not to gain extra attention was the only reason he left.

Nina sighed when she heard Sidney stomp away. Her anger was starting to change to sadness, again. She had hoped this would be different but Sidney was just like every other man; ain’t shit at the end of the day.

“Take him for all his cash, girl. Then tell him, maybe I'll take you back.”

Nina rolled her eyes as she listened to Jamila. “For someone so wealthy, you sure like to talk about taking men for their cash.”

“It’s like this; men figure out their self-worth by how big their dick is, how many women they fuck, and how much money they have. You don’t want to go to jail so you can’t cut his dick off. So, fleece him and then dump him for good,” Jamila advised.

Nina sighed and Jamila groaned. “Oh my God, please don’t tell me you miss this dumbass. Dude didn’t contact you after losing in their playoffs! He ignored your call! He only contacted you in person after you and ‘Resha went out! The dick can’t be that good!”

Nina sighed as she listened to Jamila. Over the past couple of days, there had been Edible Arrangement deliveries, lunch bought for the staff, cards proclaiming that he was dumb as hell and sorry for being an idiot. And Nina still didn’t respond. No calls, no texts, Nina was still upset and feeling raw.

“Jamila.. Glass houses remember?”

Jamila sighed over the phone. She didn’t really have that much space to talk but she persisted, “You let him off easy, he’s going to walk all over you forever. I know I’m a fuck up but I never let a man walk all over me. Don’t let Mayo Boy, no, he’s Miracle Whip because that shit is disgusting and he hurt you. Don’t let Miracle Whip think he can apologize a couple times and you’ll come running back.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet. Plus, I’m going away with Desi, Sio, Lauren, and Kim to Phuket. You know, that trip you helped plan but you can’t go on now,” Nina said as she logged into her workstation. Work had become a refuge of sorts. Everyone was pretty much professional, no one brought up anyone’s personal life. It was all about work and the patients and it made Nina happy. “I gotta go, I have a patient at 8:30.”

“Bye girl, and remember what I said,” Jamila replied.

“Byeeee”

Nina hung up and pulled her earpods out of her ears. It was time to focus on another day of work. Before Nina realized it, it was lunch time. Rubbing her temples, she sighed as she thought about lunch. Grabbing her purse and her keys, Nina made her way out of her office. “Rita, I’m going to get lunch,” Nina called out to the receptionist.

However, as soon as she left, Nina saw the infamous Range Rover in the parking lot and she closed her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood and it looked like it was going to get embarrassing for Sidney.

Luckily, it wasn’t Sidney who came out but someone totally different. Nina let out a breath she was holding and walked to her car. Her vacation was coming up in three days and she would be away for two and a half weeks. Sidney would probably leave her alone once he realized she was out of the country. Nina was sure of it, he had to have been icing her out to dump her anyway for the offseason.

“Still no call?”

Sidney sighed as Geno plopped in the chair across from his. He had put on his best smile today for Nikita’s birthday but he was feeling the strain.

“None,” he finally replied. Sidney felt so tired and such a fool. The best thing in his life had slipped out of his fingers and it was all his fault.

Geno snickered as Anna strolled in, holding a box. “Zhenya,” she asked before rolling her eyes at Sidney.

“Da,” Geno replied.

Anna started speaking rapid fire Russian, too fast for Sidney to even attempt to keep up. Geno started to laugh when Anna pointed to Sidney before pointing to the box. Then Anna abruptly turned on her heel and left the room.

Confused, Sidney asked, “What was that?”

Anna hadn’t been talking to him and Sidney felt like he was part of the subject of that conversation. Geno chuckled before replying, “Anna said that it’s a shame Nina isn’t here but she made sure to at least have a gift sent for Nikita before going to Thailand.”

Geno didn’t add the rest, which was Anna saying Nina had better manners than his captain, to at least send a gift that she didn’t have to send, before disappearing. He wasn’t interested in kicking his captain when he was down.

Sidney winced. Part of him felt a bit happy that Nina was somewhere, having fun but it was without him so it was his fault.

“Oh, look at this, Nina’s riding elephant,” Geno crowed as he looked at instagram. Sidney looked at the picture. Nina was riding an elephant, making some kind of triangle symbol with her hands. Then he looked at the comments and the first one said: look at you, dropping baggage and having fun.

Geno snickered before saying, “Poor Sid.”

“Not supportive, Geno,” Sidney remarked, closing his eyes.

There was a pause before Geno replied, “Maybe donate money to things Nina likes. Maybe she’ll talk to you when she gets back.”

Sidney checked his phone for what seemed like the umpteenth time. “Cros, she’s not going to text you.”

Sidney rolled his eyes at Tazer’s annoyed tone. Webs, Pricey, and Tanger laughed at him. They were all in Toronto together for a team Canada thing but that was over and they were out for drinks.

“Heard you fucked up, badly,” Webs stated in a dry tone. “When in doubt, always apologize first and buy the woman her favorite thing second.”

“Nina’s not big on buying stuff,” Sidney absentmindedly replied. Getting Nina to splurge on herself was like going to the dentist. It wasn’t fun.

One thing Sidney did realize from off and on monitoring Nina's Instagram was that she was big on helping out at the Greater Pittsburgh Community Food Bank, she liked volunteering at the Humane Animal Rescue of Pittsburgh, and every year, she volunteered at a pop-up shop for girls who wanted to go to prom but couldn’t afford it.

Sidney wrote five figure checks to each organization, in Nina’s name, no strings attached. Sidney was serious about trying to get his pretty girl back and he knew that Nina was serious about volunteering and giving back. Now, he was just waiting to see Nina’s reaction. If Nina told him thanks but it was over, Sidney would be upset but he could accept it.

There were no texts that night but that morning, Sidney woke up to a text from Nina. It was a simple thank you but it meant more than anything to Sidney at that moment.

Nina sighed as she looked at the thank you cards that had been waiting for her when she returned home. This was so out of the ordinary, she had to text Sidney when she saw them. It was more meaningful than gifts.

The trip to Phuket had been amazing but there had been a tinge of sadness for Nina. She enjoyed riding the elephants, experiencing the beaches, going diving, everything. It was truly the vacation she had been waiting to have, after Covid and then switching jobs had pushed everything back. Despite her best efforts, Nina missed Sidney. She missed that dumbass hockey player, he had wormed into her heart that easily. She missed him and was still supremely angry at him. Nina felt like the biggest dumbass on earth. As she waited for him to show up at her place, she wanted to bang her head into the wall. I fucked up by dating him, Nina said to herself.

Her doorbell rung and Nina opened the door. It was Sidney, hands in his pockets, no gifts this time. He ached to bring her into his arms but Sidney wouldn’t touch Nina unless she gave him permission.

There was a stony silence after Sidney closed the door, neither willing to say the first word. Nina tried to summon some of the anger she had but all that was left was pain and sadness. Before she even realized, a couple tears had slipped. Sidney saw them and his composure completely crumbled. He did the one thing he swore he would never do; he made his pretty girl cry.

Nina hiccupped as Sidney pulled her into his arms. He just held her as she cried. “Fuck you, Sidney Crosby. I felt like you were icing me out before dumping me. Fuck you, you fucking jagoff.”

“I-I should have said something but I was so pissed and I didn’t want to lash out at you. Then it just snowballed,” Sidney said, heartbreaking as Nina sniffled.

“You’re such a fucking dumbass. I don’t even know why I’m even considering taking you back.”

Sidney said, “I just didn’t want to burden you with everything I go through at the end of the season, especially when it’s disappointing.”

“Fuck that, Sidney.” Nina glared up at him, the big dummy. “Communication, it means that if you say you’re in a relationship, you communicate. You should have even sent a text, ‘I’m pissed as fuck, going golfing with the boys, be back soon’ or even just periodically texted those stupid hi and good morning beautiful texts. How would you feel if I didn’t call or text you and went away?”

Sidney paused as he considered Nina’s point. He was unhappy he didn’t know that Nina had gone away without telling him but he couldn’t say anything now. “Your face says it all, Crosby,” Nina snarked.

“I’m sorry, Nina,” Sidney said, deep from his heart.

Nina sighed, she could tell he was truly sorry. “Those donations… they were a total surprise. They all needed the money and are dear to me. But the Pittsburgh Prom Dress giveaway, we always need more funds since it doesn’t get as many donations around the year. Your donation not only allowed us to provide more dresses this prom season, it also allowed us to expand our collection so that we could provide suits as well as dresses. Thank you, Sidney.”

“You’re welcome,” he sincerely replied.

Keeping her cheek on his chest, Nina said, “I’m dumb because I really am considering taking you back. But don’t ever do that again.”

Pulling away a bit, Nina looked deep into Sidney’s eyes. “I’m serious. I don’t think I’m clingy, I don’t require much, but don’t even do that again. I don’t need you to call me everyday but don’t ever ignore me like that again, Sidney.”

“I won’t, I swear,” Sidney promised, happy that his pretty girl was talking to him again.

114 notes · View notes

zillennial97 · 4 years

Text

Enemies to Lovers | Larry Fanfic Recs

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.- A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Harry wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Pretty sure yoga is supposed to increase airflow, blood flow, and all that,” he responds dryly, finally jumpstarting himself and walking away from Louis towards his own bedroom.

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante | 112k | Mature

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Dance to the Distortion by Lis (domesticharry) | 96k | Explicit

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

The Sidelines by RedRidingStiles | 47k | Explicit

"Alright, I know you guys are the best of friends but I'd like you to do this for the rest of the team,” Cowell says, making the rest of the team snicker. "So I want both of you to compliment each other." "I hate your trainers. I mean that in the nicest way possible. They're very...yellow," Louis says, arms crossed as he offers a fake close-lipped grin. "It's really nice of you to blow anyone you find slightly attractive," Harry replies, a sickening sweet smile on his lips. "Thank you, children, let me remind you this is a college hockey team. Try again," Coach says, completely unamused.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other

Wonderwall by AFangirlFantasy | 43k | General Audiences

Taking the sheet cluttered with times available for the next few weeks, Louis notices a pattern in the list. The name of the person Perrie had just mentioned: Harry Styles. It’s written at least seven times, and three of which are during timeframes Louis wants.

“Who the fuck is Harry Styles?”

“You’re about to find out,” she answers, pointing over Louis’ shoulder.

Or a Love/Hate College AU where Louis Tomlinson is the lead singer of The Rogue - the most popular band on campus - and Harry Styles is the talented Freshman unknowingly challenging all that.

All the Right Moves by cherrystreet | 32k | Explicit

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 32k | Explicit

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups | 31k | Explicit

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

We're Like Bumper Cars by sincehewaseighteen | 31k | Explicit

“I have won, I won the final cross country. I win, Harry--”

“Whoever gets to fucking nationals wins it, pretty boy,” Harry teases. “You haven’t won. Interhouse is nothing compared to nationals, or interstate. You haven’t even won interschool. You can dream all you fucking want that you’ve won.”

Louis becomes so ignorant he decides to no longer eye the boy taunting him. “Trophies prove it all, Styles.”

“Where’s your trophy for biggest asshole?”

“Where’s yours for winning cross country?”

Harry growls before hooking his fingers in Louis’ belt loops and bringing them together for a flat kiss.

Or the AU where Louis and Harry are rivals of the century and Cross Country competitors before things get complicated and they play pretend.

After Hours by Velvetoscar for shipsdrifting | 26k | Not Rated

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are the bane of each other's existences. Unfortunately, they're already in love--even if they aren't completely aware of this minor detail.

[A "You've Got Mail" AU]

When It's Late At Night by Rearviewdreamer | 25k | Mature

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

Love Me Please by angelichl | 23k | Explicit

Louis hates Harry, which is fine because he would really rather prefer to avoid him at all costs.

The only problem?

They're soulmates.

runnin' like you did by orphan_account | 20k | Explicit

“Should we tell him?”

When Lauren is met with everyone either nodding their heads or shrugging, she takes a deep breath. “I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious by now.” She stalls, sounding ominous and Louis doesn’t like it one bit.

“What is obvious by now?” Louis asks. He’s starting getting anxious. “I swear to God, spit it out. Stop being so damn cryptic.”

“I—We think it’s pretty obvious that you’re in love with Harry,” she states simply and shrugs as if she isn’t telling him he’s in love with the second—Nick being the first—most annoying person on the planet.

or, a college au where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles

Three French Hems by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews | 20k | Mature

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

once bitten and twice shy by pinkcords | 19k | Mature

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

That's How I Know by allwaswell16 | 19k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.

Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

Get Off of My Cloud by Marora_Daris | 9k | Explicit

Harry is the most annoying neighbour that sexually frustrated Louis could have. Niall decides it's a good idea to handcuff them together.

Featuring guinea pigs, animal print leggings and inappropriate boners.

Erase My History, (Expo)se Me by BayouSexual, pacificrimjob for Edandcurly | 6k | Teen And Up Audiences

“My hair does not smell like strawberries.”

Louis blinks up at Mr. Styles. “I never said your hair smells like strawberries. How would I even know that?” Harry’s hair does smell like strawberries, Harry himself smells like strawberries, everyone who’s been within three feet of him knows this. ~~~~~~~~ Or the one where Harry and Louis both teacher history, their students think they should date, and one pink dry-erase marker is trying to ruin their lives (with a little help of course).

#larry fanfiction recommendations #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic recs #larry fanfiction masterpost #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #hate to love #enemies with benefits

154 notes · View notes

masterthespianduchovny · 3 years

Text

Let’s chat:

When I say that loss is mostly on Ted, it’s because it is.

Although there were three other coaches involved, the issue with the game was systemic and not simply a poor showing. And that is a reflection of the head coach.

None of the coaches are on the same level, ranking wise, nor do they have the same experience and responsibilities. As a result, when certain things happen, you have to look at it from a micro to macro level.

Is what happened a one time thing or a reflection of a greater issue?

Depending on the severity of the issue, that falls directly on the head coach even if they weren’t directly involved.

Because how Richmond loss isn’t an isolated event, it’s either poor coaching OR Ted not being as involved or as aware of the team. Ironically, Ted was more involved last season when they were losing. As a result, because Ted is distracted, he is missing vital things that showed itself way before the match. He missed red flags because he wasn’t emotionally present enough to see them.

If Ted wasn’t so distracted this season, which is understandable poor mental health is a bitch, he would’ve checked Nate’s behavior and corrected the problem. He could’ve been a better mentor to both Nate and Roy. Despite them both being coaches now and Roy being a former player, they are both new coaches and need guidance.

This also falls on beard because he should know better. Nate is smart and knows the game, but that doesn’t immediately translate to knowing what you’re doing right away. An inexperienced coach was leading training for a big match without the support or presence of the other coaches???

This only flies as acceptable if they’ve been working together for a year or two (honestly, more). And that’s if Ted was actively involved in developing Nate. But because the coaching staff is a mess since they get along and they had no idea they’re a mess, that’s what led to being routed by Man City.

Now some may think, it’s Man City, of course this was going to happen. And this reminds me of Roy during “Lavendar” and talking about his former team Chelsea.

Roy: No. I think they played like shit.

Analyst: Would you care to elaborate, Roy?

Roy: All right. Chelsea was shit today. They were shocking. Watching them, you’d never know they were playing at home. They were too timid. They were too respectful of United. They were lucky they didn’t lose by three or four or ten.

Analyst 2: That’s harsh, Roy. United’s been on a good run recently.

Roy: Who gives a shit, Chris? That’s no excuse to play like you’re afraid of them. You could see it in their faces: abject terror. Like children waiting in line for the handsy Father Christmas. Have some fucking pride in your shirt or don’t fucking wear it.

Do you think that if Roy was still an analyst and watching this match, he say, “it’s Man City and they were at home.” No, he’s tear them a new asshole.

Richmond aren’t amateurs.

These are professional players. Roy wasn’t upset because his former team lost, he was upset because they played like shit, it showed, and they didn’t play up to the level they were capable of nor were they as competitive/aggressive as they should’ve been.

There is a difference between losing and not coming to play at all mentally.

A team being better than you doesn’t give you an excuse to play poorly. Either you come to play the game or don’t come at all.

We constantly talk about how the writers introduce small things that seem like they’re nothing. In retrospect, does Roy’s speech just seem like cutting remarks that shows he enjoy commentating (he didn’t) or does it also foreshadow what eventually happened with AFC Richmond in some respects?

The only sports I’ve truly watched extensively is basketball and, maybe this is different for football, but no matter how much another team outmatches their competition, esp in the playoffs, most games are competitive. All of these players are still pro athletes at the end of the day.

When one team gets routed 1. Either the losing team played like absolute shit 2. Or the winning team was on fucking fire.

However, even when a team is far outmatched, giving up during a game is almost always seen as unacceptable in basketball. Playing poorly is constantly criticized. In the 07 finals, I believe (basketball), lebron’s team was clearly outmatched and, in real time, people saw him give up during a game (this is actually a common occurrence for him) and he was torn apart.

It’s easy to say that Man City was just that good, but like Roy said, timid teams gets routed. Unlike Chelsea, Richmond wasn’t lucky enough to only lose by a handful of points, meaning 1-2.

They played poorly. This was an atrocious showing by them.

I don’t even see how anyone can say, “Man City is just that good” when 1. A Richmond player kicked the ball into the leg of another Richmond player. 2. They scored on their own goal. 3. Zoreaux looked an absolute mess out there, like he wasn’t a professional goalie.

And that’s on fucking ted.

Like I said, I get why, but that doesn’t make him any less responsible.

Which means, this loss is also on Rebecca. We don’t need to do over her hiring ted in the first place. Despite his ignorance, he is a good coach. However, Rebecca knows that ted has panic attacks and knew he had one that day. And rather than forcing him to deal with his problems, she let him blow her off. And she did that for personal reasons not professional ones. When it involves an owner, coaches cannot do whatever the fuck they want.

If Rebecca held ted accountable, there would’ve been transparency sooner, maybe, and ted perhaps assessing his locker room closer. And this includes the coaching staff.

What happened at Man City is largely on Ted and Rebecca.

#ted lasso #Rebecca welton

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nugnthopkns · 4 years

Text

don’t say you miss me

word count: 5.5k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, references to sex but nothing explicit, cursing, recreational drug use (marijuana), alcohol consumption, there is no happy ending

recommended listening: overnight | maggie rogers

series masterpost: here

a/n: second installment of hiiapl! little overnight inspired ditty that i’m actually pretty proud of. i’m having so much fun with this it’s insane

You had never meant to get attached.

It was a lot easier said than done – especially with Kevin. He was loud and obnoxious, sure, but it was part of his charm. When you first met him, outside a club in downtown Winnipeg, you were blown away by his duality. He had been so loud with his group but quietly brought you a bottle of water after you puked on the sidewalk. After insisting you take his number so you could let him know you got home safely, Kevin convinced you to go to dinner with him. One meal turned into several and before you knew it you were engaged in a casual fling with the Winnipeg Jets’ newest centre. It was mostly sex, with the ocasional interaction outside of the bedroom, but something about Kevin made it feel like more than just a hookup. Over the few months you slept together your feelings shifted, and you began to harbour a rather large crush.

Just when you were going to take the leap and talk to Kevin about getting serious fate reared its ugly head. After only being in Winnipeg for six months, electing to not return to Massechusettes right away after the Jets playoff run finished, Kevin was traded out of the city. The news split your heart in two – there was no way the two of you could become a couple. Though long distance could have been an option, you weren’t going to ask him to commit to that. Being a professional athlete is tough as is, and having a girlfriend a six hour flight away was extra stress you refused to put on Kevin.

The last night you spent with Kevin was emotional. Lots of tears were shed, mostly from you. You knew he was compartmentalizing it all and trying to not let you know how much the trade was affecting him. Whenever the two of you had talked about hockey, Kevin was always quick to mention how much he loved Winnipeg and how much he wanted to stay. Neither of you talked much, too focussed on wallowing in sadness and committing each other’s bodies to memory. He left the next morning, and there was a silent agreement that whatever the two of you had was over. It was fun while it lasted but now you both have to be adults and get on with life.

☼☼☼☼

Nearly six months later you consider yourself to be getting on with life just fine. You’ve got a better paying job, a new apartment, and enthusiastically throw yourself into any project that’s presented. To others, however, you’re barely hanging on. Any time you get a text notification, you hold your breath until a name flashes that isn’t Kevin’s. A notification from Instagram saying he viewed your story makes your heart beat three times as fast. You constantly check for updates on how he’s playing, and watch as many Flyers games media blackouts will allow just to catch a glimpse of his face. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t shake Kevin Hayes.

“They’ll be in town this weekend,” your best friend Rachel says. “Are you gonna reach out to him?”

You nearly drop the carton of chinese food you’re eating on the floor. “I didn’t know that,” you stammer, trying to make your surprise believable. Kevin will be back in Winnipeg for the first time since being traded. You knew this already, of course, because you have the Flyers scheduled imprinted in your memory.

She narrows her eyes at you. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You knew they were coming to town. The NHL app stays open on your phone at all times.”

Caught in your lie, you can do nothing but duck your head. You’ve thought a lot about what you’re going to do. Should you send him a text, let him know you’re available after the game? Or should you ignore him completely and make it seem as though you’re doing much better than you are?

“I don’t know Rach. I’ve never had a sort of ex come back to the city he left me in.”

“He didn’t necessarily want to leave you,” Rachel points out. “He got traded. If you want my two cents, I don’t think you should give him a call. You need to move on, not stay stuck in the past.”

Your friend is right, and you know that’s what you should do. Moving on from Kevin would be easier if you didn’t try to contact him. He hasn’t reached out to you so you assume you’re the only one in the relationship still struggling to come to terms with his departure. You struggle with the decision until puck drop, but ultimately decide against texting him. It simply wouldn’t be beneficial for your fragile heart.

A small group of friends has gathered at Rachel’s to watch the game. You’re lucky, or unlucky, to run with a crowd of die-hard Jets fans who get together any time they play, whether it’s at someone’s house or a sports bar around the corner from the arena. Though you tried your best to get out of it tonight, making up any excuse you can think of to stay at home and sob quietly into a pillow, Rachel knows better than to let you be alone and forces you to be in attendance.

It’s a pretty quiet game with the Jets dominating the first two periods. The Flyers are sluggish, not connecting passes and taking far too many penalties. You’re pretty sure Winnipeg has it in the bag when the puck drops for the final twenty minutes of play, so you turn your attention away from the television, picking up a conversation with Christina, the girl your friend Tyler brought along.

Some choice words must have been said to the Flyers in the intermission because they come out swinging. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, they’ve tied the game. The period is full of contact, with multiple players from each team spending time in the penalty box. Your attention is once again returned to the large screen for the final few minutes, and your jaw drops as you watch Kevin dangle through the Jets defence to sink the puck into the back of the net. It turns out to be the game winning goal, and you sit in silence as your friends pay up the money they lost in bets and check their updated fantasy pool standings. Maybe you should text him.

“Don’t fucking do it,” you hear Rachel whisper in your ear. Your other friends know of your past with Kevin, they were around and spent some time with him, but they don’t know how much you were still holding on. Everyone besides Rachel assumes you’re alright – that Kevin is just a blip in your past.

You roll your eyes and sigh, but tuck your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. It stays there – out of sight, out of mind – until it buzzes some time later. Expecting it to be your mother hounding you for not calling in a while, you pull it out. A message from Kevin flashes and you go whiter than a ghost.

Taking the boys out celebrating the big win. You in?

The words, so casual, feel like a punch to the stomach. Why the months of radio silence just to ask to see him like you’re friends? Making sure that no one is paying attention to you, you quickly type out a reply.

That’s not a good idea and you know it Kevin.

You send the message and immediately turn off your phone. This way you won’t have to deal with the aftermath until much later. You allow other things to hold your attention and don’t head home until you’re so tired that it will be impossible for you to think about Kevin’s text.

When you power your phone back up in the morning, you’re shocked to find that Kevin never responded. He obviously didn’t care too much about your absence, and part of you wonders if he was just being polite. It doesn’t make sense, but instead of letting your brain overthink the lack of response you throw yourself headfirst into cleaning your apartment. Hours later it’s spotless, and you slump onto the couch in a pile of exhaustion. You check your social media notifications, a few mentions from your friends about the shenanigans you all got up to the night before and your sister tagging you in a post letting you know she’d like to visit a specific beach the next time she comes to visit. Kevin’s profile photo sits at the top of your instagram feed, and before you can stop yourself you click to view his story.

It’s a snapshot of his teammates with bright smiles on their faces. Each of them is holding a can of beer, and a few look as though they shared a joint before entering the establishment. The photo is captioned ‘glad to be back in winterpeg’ and is accompanied by a couple of snowflake emojis. Your heart clenches inside your chest – it hurts more than you thought it would to see him enjoying himself as though he has no bittersweet feelings about being back. It would be beneficial to unfollow Kevin, but you can’t force yourself to pull the metaphorical trigger and completely cut him from your life.

Kevin leaves the next day for Vancouver. You know this because you watch his story yet again, and curse yourself for grasping at straws. Why must he have such a strong hold on you after so long? A call to Rachel has her driving to your place in minutes, ready to hold you while you cry and distract you from the pain that still lingers from his first departure.

☼☼☼☼

It’s easier to forget Kevin without him being in the city – you do your best, and eventually it sort of sticks.

He no longer crosses your mind every few days. You go weeks, sometimes a month or two, without thinking about him. It’s nice to no longer get sad when you enter a bar you frequented with him or wince when someone mentions how he’s playing. It also helps that he never returns to Winnipeg.

There’s no reason for him to. The Flyers don’t play another away game against the Jets the rest of season, and as far as you know he doesn’t frequently talk to his old teammates. Your life fades into a quiet routine you come to love dearly. The world feels balanced for the first time since Kevin left and you’re nothing but thankful.

Life moves on, and you find yourself succeeding in your career – so much so that you’re quickly offered a promotion. The change increases your workload and doesn’t leave you much of a life outside of work, but it doesn’t matter much to you. It’s a welcome distraction and keeps thoughts of Kevin out of your mind. No one comments on your genuine improvement, but you know they can see it. Rachel is proud, and she’s told you exactly once. It’s all you’ll get out of her so you take it and roll with it. The rest of the regular season passes without you so much as knowing, or caring, and before you know it there’s a notification for an article saying the Flyers were eliminated in the second round. For the first time you find it really hard to care.

☼☼☼☼

Summers in Winnipeg are your favourite. The city is warm for the first time all year and the flowers look beautiful in full bloom. With the promotion you’re afforded more vacation time, which you plan to take full advantage. There’s nothing you love more than hanging with friends in the sun, soaking up the rays, and casually drinking.

The days bleed into one another in the way that all good summers should, and before you realize it it’s your last day at work for a week. It will be nice to be free from workplace constraints for a while, and your friends have the time off as well. The group of you are heading to a cabin on Falcon Lake where you’re sure lots of partying will take place. You suggested getting farther away, but settled on the area in case Tyler’s sister goes into labour. He’s a very family oriented person and offered to watch his nephew when the time comes.

Four o’clock comes faster than you ever could have imagined, and you cheerfully wave goodbye to your co-workers. Some complain of your ability to leave during the busiest season of the year, but most of them wish you well. You put an immense amount of work into your job regardless of the quarter and know you deserve the break. If you don’t stop at the grocery store on your way you’ll be in trouble since you’re in charge of all the breakfasts and you currently only have a half-eaten loaf of bread that could go stale any day.

You’re in the cereal aisle, deciding whether or not you really need Honey Nut Cheerios for the trip, when you hear his unforgettable voice. It’s loud and booming and brings back so many feelings that you’ve learned to repress that you turn on your heel and head to the nearest self checkout despite only gathering half the items on your list.

Back in your car, you dial Rachel’s number and try to regulate your breathing.

“Hello?”

You don’t bother with any formalities. “Kevin is here.”

“In Winnipeg?” she asks, more than a tad confused. “Why would he be in Winnipeg?”

The interior of the Ford Escape you drive feels too small, so you crack a window and peel out of the parking space. Rachel’s voice reverberates throughout the car thanks to the bluetooth system. “I don’t fucking know, but he’s here.”

“I don’t think that’s possible Y/N,” Rachel says, always the realist. “He lives in Boston. What would he be doing in Winnipeg in the middle of July?”

You aren’t sure, and make sure to tell her so. “But it was him,” you swear. “He was in the grocery store.” You stop at a red light, placing your blinker on and checking both ways before turning right. A few more minutes and you’d be safely tucked away in your apartment, away from the world and the possibility of running into Kevin.

“There’s like a hundred tall gingers in the city babe, you didn’t see him.”

“You’re right, I didn’t see him,” you agree. “I heard him. How many tall gingers are there in Winnipeg with Boston accents?”

“Oh fuck. I’m coming over.” With that, Rachel hangs up, and you pull into the parking garage. You sit in silence for a minute or two before deciding your shaking legs can hold you upright. Perhaps you weren’t as over Kevin as you thought.

Rachel spends the rest of the afternoon and evening with you, ensuring you don’t do anything stupid and letting you spew all your feelings, both good and bad. More than one bottle of wine is consumed, but you have more than enough time to nurse a hangover. If you play your cards right through the week this won’t be the only time you do it either.

You wake up on top of your pristine sheets, Rachel grumbling beside you – she’s never been as good at holding her alcohol.

“What time is it?”

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes a few numbers and you have to stare at them for a minute before you comprehend them. “Just after eight,” you say, sitting up. Surprisingly, you feel fine. Maybe the crippling weight of your feelings for Kevin cancels out the hangover you most definitely should be feeling.

“We need to get going. Gotta pack the car and hit the road. I’m the one who needs to get the keys so we have to be there before everyone else,” she sighs, grumbling something else under her breath as her feet hit the floor.

You just laugh at her and head into the kitchen. While Rachel showers you make coffee and pack the food into the ancient cooler your father gave you when you moved out many moons ago. It has served its purpose on several trips like this – you’ll be sad to see it go eventually. You switch places with Rachel, and once you’re feeling refreshed the two of you stuff your trunk and hit the road.

The drive is rather uneventful, with the both of you sitting in silence, and it doesn’t take you long to approach your destination. Rachel is a poor navigator so you’re tasked with figuring out where you’re going and making sure you get there, but it could be worse. You have a general sense of where you’re going. Getting the keys is painless and you get to work unpacking your overloaded SUV.

“Do you think there will be other people around we can party with?” Rachel asks as you close the trunk for the last time.

You shrug. “Don’t know Rach. It doesn’t look like it.”

She drops it, agreeing with you, and you separate to unpack your personal belongings. The cabin is large enough that no one has to share a room, which you’re grateful for. Though you love your friends dearly, they don’t always know what personal space is. At some point in the afternoon the rest of the group trickles in, and by dinner you’ve all settled and are ready to party.

Tyler figures out how to use the ancient barbeque and sets to work cooking the burgers. Everyone else gets side dishes ready or sets the table, with Christine starting a bonfire. You don’t know her well, only having met her a few times, but your friend seems to be infatuated with her. She fits in great with the group so you aren’t worried about any awkward tension. Dinner passes in a fit of giggles and shouts, and once the dishes are done you can relax fully.

The beer you grab from the fridge on your way out the door makes your insides fuzzy in the best way possible. By the fire, surrounded by those who care about you the most, you feel at peace. You’re yet to think about the sudden reappearance of Kevin in Winnipeg, and you’d like to keep it that way. Someone grabs the beat up acoustic guitar you found in the living room and thrusts it in your direction. You’d taught yourself to play in college, and it comes in handy for times like this.

“I refuse to play Wonderwall,” you laugh, shooting pointed looks at each and every person sitting around you.

“Come on Y/N,” Rachel groans. “Just once?”

“Fuck off.”

You don’t mean it, of course, and strum the opening chords with a grimace on your face. Tyler counts everyone in and they sing for you, which is appreciated. You might be decent at playing, but your singing voice is one that shouldn’t see the light of day if it can be helped. It’s more fun than you imagined it could be so one song turns into three, and before you know it your makeshift jamboree attracts the attention of the neighbours you didn’t know existed.

Applause erupts from behind you, and you flush enough that your cheeks warm significantly. “You guys are so good I hate to disrupt the rhythm,” a deep voice says, “But do you mind if a buddy and I join you? We’re a little lonely by ourselves next door.”

Tyler’s out of his seat in a heartbeat, jumping up to pat the man on the back. “Of course man, come on over! I’m Tyler, and that’s Rachel, Christine, Marshall, and Y/N.”

You all wave politely, and the mystery guest introduces himself. “Nice you meet you guys. I’m Nolan.”

It’s then you get a good look at who you’re speaking to. He seems to be a few years younger than you, maybe early twenties, and he has a face you just can’t place. Maybe you’ve seen him around Winnipeg – the city is small enough that you can often spot the same faces in a crowd. “I’ll just yell at him to come over and we can get the party started,” Nolan explains, “Kev, bud, come on over! And bring a couple beers.”

All the blood rushes from your fingers at the name. You shake them intensely, willing your circulatory system to function properly again. If you had to hazard a guess there’s probably a million people in Manitoba named Kevin. There’s no reason for it to be Kevin Hayes. You’re most certainly still spooked from your near encounter with him yesterday.

“Fuck Patty, you couldn’t come back and grab your own?” the emerging figure grumbles in the vocal stylings you’ll have imprinted on your heart until your dying day. Kevin is here, and if you don’t leave in the next few seconds you’ll be face to face with him for the first time in over a year.

You stand abruptly, not stopping to explain your hasty exit to anyone, and practically run into the house. The door slams behind you and you do your best to make your heart rate return to normal. Tyler shouts something you can’t quite comprehend, but you know it’s probably some sort of reconnection greeting. He’d met Kevin a couple of times while the two of you were together and had gotten along with him well.

“Hey,” Rachel whispers, “You good?”

You hadn’t heard her come in. “Not really,” you admit. “I mean like I knew he was in town but never in a million years did I think he’d crash my fucking vacation.”

She nods in agreement. “What do you want to do?”

“Stay in here forever?” An eye roll is sent your way but you choose to ignore it. “I’m serious Rach, I can’t go back out there, at least not tonight. Every time I think I’m over him he finds a way to make me realize I’m just faking.”

“I know,” Rachel says simply. She really does – as your best friend she’s privy to your every thought on the matter. After making sure that you'll be okay she heads back outside, armed with an excuse for your early departure.

You spend the rest of the night tucked under the covers, listening to the laughter of your friends outside, no doubt in your mind that Kevin is the source for most of it. He’s always been good at commanding an audience. Thoughts swim freely in your brain, most of them occupied by Kevin in some capacity. Was tonight just a one off? Will you have to eventually face him? What will you say? Eventually sleep comes, though it’s fitful and fleeting.

☼☼☼☼

You do your best to avoid Kevin, and it works for a day or two. Tyler has stricken up a friendship with the athlete, and spends more time with him and Nolan than your group. You don’t mind all that much because they typically are out on Nolan’s boat or lounging in their cabin, but every night the group reconvenes at your firepit. The excuses are starting to run out – there’s only so many times you can say you have heat exhaustion before someone stops believing you.

“Y/N, Kevin hasn’t even mentioned you,” Tyler whines one night after dinner. “It won’t be awkward. We only have a few days left, please spend time with us?”

“I’m spending plenty of time with you,” you grumble. “You promise he won’t say anything?”

Tyler shoots you a smile that lets you know he knows that he’s broken down your resolve. “Why would he? If he was going to do it he would have already.”

You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse. You’re glad he’s faring better than you, but on the other hand you wish he’d at least make an effort to inquire into your well-being. Maybe it was simply proof that you were still holding onto something that didn’t mean much of anything. Eventually you’d have to face the music, whether it be with Kevin or someone in the future, so you make the decision to try and at least get used to seeing former flames in social settings.

“You’re rolling my joints tonight asshole,” you grumble, shoving your sock clad feet into a pair of worn out sandals.

There’s a small commotion, mostly in excitement at your begrudging agreement, and you roll your eyes as you grab what is destined to be your first of many beers from the fridge. Rachel slides up beside you on the way out the door and squeezes your hand, letting you know she’s ready to support you no matter what happens. It’s comforting, and the nerves in your stomach settle a small amount.

Marshall is already outside, helping Nolan start the fire. They seem to be extremely similar and you’re glad they can seek each other out when the rest of the group gets too rambunctious. The rest of your party filters out of the house and takes up residence in the adirondack chairs. Kevin doesn’t appear to be around, so you allow yourself to speak freely, loud and unabashed.

“No I’m telling you,” you insist, trying to convince Nolan your stance on Jack Antonoff is correct. “Jack is literally responsible for reinventing pop production.”

He laughs at how into the conversation you are. “Why the fuck should I care?”

“Because you fucking listen to Lorde!”

Someone else is laughing along with you and it nearly stops you in your tracks. At some point Kevin had joined the party, but you hadn’t noticed. Knowing that he was listening makes you suddenly self conscious, and you wrap your sweater tighter around your shoulders. Nolan can tell you’re uncomfortable and does his best to relieve the tension.

“Kev, do you wanna run back and grab the weed?” he asks.

The auburn haired man pulls a baggie out of his hoodie pocket. “Got it right here baby cat,” he grins. “And it’s ready to go. You got a light?”

Nolan tosses him the lighter and Kevin expertly puts the joint between his parted lips. He lets the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling, and you watch him more intently than you should. You’re thrown back to the memories of Kevin’s apartment downtown, where you’d smoke in content silence after a night of passionate sex. The scenes flash in your mind and you’re overcome with melancholia. You had been so happy in the moment, and now you’re in a similar situation but feel nothing. Other than sharing in your laughter, Kevin is yet to say anything to you.

You must have been lost in your thoughts, because Kevin is staring at you with a quizzical expression. “Y/N? Do you want a hit?”

It takes you a second to snap out of your daze, but to cautiously take the lit joint from his hand. “Thank you Kevin,” you say, voice timid. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since he left Winnipeg for the first time.

He shoots you a dazzling smile and your insides threaten to turn to mush. No matter how hard you’ve tried to convince yourself you over him, that you’ve moved on from Kevin, you know you’re wrong. Kevin Hayes will have some sort of hold on you until you die. To distract yourself from the overwhelming amount of emotion you inhale deeply, hoping that the buzz smoking will bring can clear your mind. You really don’t want to think about what you lost when he’s right in front of you.

The three of you sit in silence, passing the joint in a circle, and listen to the conversation your friends are engaged in. Marshall ropes Nolan into a game of cornhole and he goes begrudgingly. As he stands he sends you a sympathetic look, and you know that he’s familiar with your history with Kevin. It doesn’t surprise you – Kevin isn’t exactly one to keep secrets.

“So,” Kevin says once it’s just the two of you, “How have you been?”

You do your best to swallow the lump in your throat. “I’ve been good. Work has been crazy lately, so this break has been really nice.”

He presses, and you indulge him in a conversation about your new job, though it can barely be considered that now. Everything is surface level – you’re afraid of letting Kevin in too much. Though your fling may have been brief, it didn’t make his departure or the lack of contact any easier. He tells you about his life in Philadelphia and how much he loves it there. Before you can stop yourself, you ask him a loaded question.

“Do you like it more than Winnipeg?”

Kevin falters. It takes both of you a moment to process what you said. Not one to lie, he answers truthfully. “Yeah.” It comes out in a sort of deflated sigh. “But I miss –”

“Don’t say it,” you rush, trying hard to keep your voice down. “You don’t mean it.”

An embittered huff comes from him, and you watch carefully as he peels the worn ball cap off his head and tugs on his curls. “I do,” he insists. “I absolutely miss you.”

You no longer care who can hear you. “If you missed me, you would have texted. Called. Anything,” you say cooly. Everyone else has clued in to the fact that something is going on between you and Kevin, and have migrated inside in an attempt to give you privacy.

“I did. You’re the one who said it wasn’t a good idea to see each other again.”

“Because it had been over half a year!” you shriek. “And it had been radio silence before then. You left Kevin, and I’m not blaming you. I know it’s your job. But you left and it was so fucking hard, and it stung because you didn’t even try. So when you hit me up after that game I knew I had to say no. Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I’m still so in love with you that if you asked I’d uproot my life and follow you to Philly. I don’t want to be that girl.”

The outburst leaves you gasping for breath. Never before had you spilled heartache so fast – with a sort of reckless abandon. Anytime you’ve had these types of conversations you’ve been calm and collected. You’re currently the farthest thing from it.

Kevin’s expression softens, and a sadness fills his eyes. “I was scared,” he begins, “Because for the first time in my life I was with someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. Sure, we weren’t serious, but I was going to take it there. Then I got traded and the plans I had went to shit and I was too scared to do anything about it. So I let you slip away.”

Silence fills the space between you. You don’t know what to say, so you focus on unraveling the loose thread from the hem of your cardigan. Kevin shuffles in his seat awkwardly. “Where do we, uh, go from here?”

The question shocks you. To the best of your understanding, you had made it perfectly clear where your relationship was headed. “Nowhere,” you breathe. “You head back to Philly, meet another girl, and fall in love. I stay here, do my job, and learn to be content with myself.”

“There’s no room for us in your little plan?”

“We’ve run our course Kev. As much as I still love you, will always love you, we’re too fundamentally different for us both to really be happy in a relationship. You have to know that.”

He nods. “I do.” With that, Kevin rises from the chair, gives you a sad smile, and leaves. You assume he’s calling it a night, and you wish to do the same. Finally having that conversation was exhausting and all you want to do is sleep for the next twelve hours.

☼☼☼☼

The rest of the trip passes without you seeing Kevin again. He and Nolan left early the morning after your conversation, and you do your best to enjoy yourself. Part of your brain makes you believe you’re the reason they left, though Tyler tells you otherwise. No one asks about what happened between you two, not even Rachel, and you return to the city determined to start anew. Eventually you break the cycle of obsessing over Kevin’s stats, and take it upon yourself to unfollow him on social media. Life goes on.

Things never really get easier. You still find yourself grieving the loss of Kevin, late at night when you can’t sleep, but are confident in your decision to say goodbye for good. Time heals everything, and eventually you’ll be okay.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites #hiiapl

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likeshipsonthesea · 4 years

Text

dex, team bicycle

the following bullet fic has been in my drafts for over a year now and tonight i remembered it existed, read it, and decided to post it. why? who knows. don’t ask questions. just ~enjoy~

so i got an ask about how anon trusts me implicitly when it comes to writing bc they believe that dex is the team bicycle and eventually ends up with nursey and thinks i’m down with that too and tbh they ain’t wrong so like

here’s a bullet fic instead of me doing any of the work i SHOULD REALLY FUCKING BE DOING okie

first things first here’s the dealio this is crack-ish but also not so crackish that my dumbass couldn’t see it happening so let’s just suspend some disbelief and have a good time

first time dex hooks up with a teammate it’s not at a kegster

maybe a little later he’s a little too tipsy at a kegster not really knowing his own tolerance for tub juice yet and he’s dancing, a little more white boy than maybe one would like but he’s having fun with it and that’s half the game, and he’s sweaty and maybe some glitter from other dancers has rubbed off on him and he’s glittery and shining and he catches someone’s eye across the room (holster, i’m thinking holster) and holster sees him and thinks fuck and dex is maybe really into how big holster is and just like follows him up to the attic when holster grabs his wrist and pulls because why not--

but this is not about that (at least not yet) this is about how dex, new to samwell and ncaa hockey and everything, wants to be the best he can be in everything so naturally he goes to the best person to help him with every thing (for school he gets tutors and goes to tutorials and goes to all the profs’ office hours, for social stuff maybe he trails ransom around idk (that’s for later)) but for hockey he obviously goes to the person you go to when you need help with hockey

jack

LOOK OKAY I GET IT ZIMBITS FOR LIFE BUT HEAR ME OUT

jack likes hockey. jack likes people who like hockey. jack likes when people are really into hockey

so when the little angery frog that seemed real appreciative of his butt on hazeapalooza comes to him with this frowny face determination asking how he can be the best player he can be, a part of jack’s brain that’s very quiet and seldom acknowledged goes “huh.”

and maybe they start meeting up for their own practices, practicing drills and plays so dex can get his speed up and reaction time down and just get better and jack’s benefiting from it too in a way, like trying to help a defensive player makes him have to switch up his thinking about things a bit and it’s helping his defensive play on the ice

and so this goes on for a bit and maybe they build up some inside jokes in between all the intensity and maybe there’s some playful moments in the locker room when they bump arms or throw a few chirps around and it’s cute okay and not too serious, jack isn’t in love with the kid (he’s a kid, lord, okay a lil problematic but if y’all know anything about my oc luke dex has Problems with Authority figures so whatever)

but the truth is jack doesn’t really have many people he’d be comfortable “relieving some stress” with, like there’s shitty but he’s ridiculously straight, and Camila went and got herself a girlfriend so that’s no longer a thing, and dex is there and eager and fun and

and long story short they end up fucking in the locker room oops

it doesn’t happen too many times after that, maybe once on a roadie, a few times at the haus. it’s fun, not in a laughing way or whatever, but it’s casual and it’s nice to get off and it doesn’t make jack any more anxious and dex is probably working through some issues he has with tall dark haired captains and they both get something good out of it, which is the point, anyway

and it ends maybe before winter break, either jack decides to focus on the nhl and his thesis and dex totally understands or dex realizes that maybe his thing with dark haired captains isn’t completely healthy and ends things but either way it’s nbd and no one on the team ever really knows, though it’s not like they lie about it either but who’s gonna ask, right?

and so dex and jack were fuckbuddies. for a time. noice.

now let’s return to that kegster scene, hmm?

so the way i picture it is dex hooks up with holster at a kegster, realizes it probably wasn’t the smartest idea he’s ever had but doesn’t completely freak out because holster’s a relaxed kind of guy, dex is sure it won’t get nuts

meanwhile holster wakes up freaking out because he just fucked ransom’s frog and that is so not cool so then he panics and avoids ransom and dex for like a week and then decides okay okay it’s not a big deal he just won’t tell anyone, it won;t happen again, it’s fine

and then he walks in on dex hooking up with ransom and he’s like Wow Okay So the Fine Thing Didn’t Work Out Huh

turns out while holster was freaking out ransom was really mopey about it and dex, not really knowing how to fix it, tried to comfort him and ended up... in bed

look this version of dex is a little thotty and knows like two ways of comforting people and he didn’t think getting drunk in the middle of the day was a good idea

and so long story short after some brief HUHs going around dex ends up hooking up with both ransom and holster for a bit (sometimes both at once!) and eventually the both-at-once-stuff makes ransom and holster actually acknowledge the feelings they’ve mostly been ignoring since their frog year and they explain this to dex who’s like okie bc he’s really only there bc they’re both hot and so ransom and holster get together and dex sometimes helps them out on date nights and that’s about it

lbr tho they never tell anyone how they actually got together bc they would never live it down so they say nothing and dex doesn’t either bc it’s not his relationship and the world goes on never knowing

so now we’re getting into the middle of spring term dex’s frog year and he’s kind of maybe sort of acknowledged that he has some kind of emotions about nursey that aren’t helpful so he’s attempting to repress real hard, but he’s also learning to repress less about other things, specifically his enjoyment of baking.

yup. you guessed it.

Bitty.

so he starts helping bitty in the kitchen A Lot, and sometimes they talk and sometimes they don’t and sometimes they talk about important things but most of the time they don’t, but at this stage in bitty’s life he is crushing very hard on a certain dark haired captain and that’s kind of really apparent in, like, everything he does so it takes dex maybe two weeks to realize what’s going on

and okay so it’s a little awkward bc 1-the fuckbuddies thing but also bc 2-dex knows how it feels to have feelings for a friend and it kind of sucks like a lot and he wants to make bitty feel better and yeah maybe this is another case of dex being bad at comforting people with his clothes on

but maybe also one day they’re talking about relationships/being gay idk something and bitty maybe casually (southern euphemistically) mentions that he’s never, erm, never quite, uh, never done the dirty with a boy and maybe he sounds a lil embarassed about it idk and dex’s I Can Fix That brain switches on and he says, “I can help.”

and bitty’s like. what.

dex blushes and clears his throat and says it again. “i can help. i’ve, uh, done it before, and i can, like. show you.” then he pauses and, very uncasually, says, “casually.”

bitty, also pink at his point because he’s a sweet southern boy who doesn’t speak of such things, asks, “you’d be willing to do that?”

dex nods. he does not say that he’s done something like that before. he very pointedly does not say that.

and bitty, well, he’s pining and he’s been at college for a year and a half and the most action he’s ever gotten was with that boy who puked on his shoes and, you know, he came to samwell so that he could be who he is and maybe this is a way he can prove to himself that he is being true to himself.

it also doesn’t hurt that dex is v pretty, okay, bitty loves a boy with big shoulders and freckles.

and so dex and bitty start hooking up.

it’s somewhat like my The Arrangement fic where dex is sort of “showing bitty the ropes” but bitty, lbr, he’s a quick learner and he did his research so it very quickly just becomes hooking up for the sake of it

and it’s good. like. really good and both of them are benefiting from having someone to escape from their ~feelings~ in and bitty’s more comfortable in sexuality (like, his sexuality not his gayness ya feel me?) and everyone’s having a great time

then they lose the playoffs and emotions run high and bitty realizes how decimated he’s going to be by jack leaving and they don’t really have a conversation about it (let’s be real, neither of these boys talk about their feelings, at least not at this point) but dex goes home that summer with the understanding that he and bitty are no longer doing the thing, and that’s okay with him, really, because maybe now his feelings for nursey are becoming More of A Thing Than He Was Hoping They Would

of course bitty gets with jack at this time, so he’s kind of through the roof, and if, maybe, they have a conversation about their ex’s/past lovers and find they have.. more things in common than expected, well, at the least it’s a bit of a laugh and at the most well. let’s just say sometimes a ginger is mentioned in their bed WHATEVER OKAY MOVING ON

dex comes back in the fall ready to suppress the fuck out of his emotions and play some damn good hockey and who appears but this super eager tadpole

this now plays out as the first two chapters of my The Arrangement fic, though i guess now for canonical reasons whiskey ends up with lax bro and not tango, but that’s alright, we’re good at working on our feet here

for those who haven’t read the fic, dex shows whiskey how to gay sex while simultaneously gaining his trust and encouraging him to bond with the team and for personal reasons whiskey is a little shit but not as much of an asshole as he was in canon (look i love the guy but he’s a dick) and anyway go read my fic it’s good i promise #selfspon moving on

the latter half of dex’s sophomore year is spent mostly Not Pining for nursey and getting closer to him, friend wise, until the whole dib-flip, living together situation occurs, dex has a Freak Out, and ruins things a little

..this is getting off track, but long story short, his captains kiss each other on live tv and dex’s family starts to suspect that all those rumors that drifted around him in high school may have more truth to them than they’d been hoping and dex has a less than great summer break, coming back to school in the opposite of a good mindset

nursey also has a not great break (his parents are fighting, then he comes to school and breaks his wrist and can’t play hockey) and well we all know where this ends up

this leaves dex in a very mopey gross state and who to help someone feel better in their time of need than the sweetest little waffle you’ve ever seen in your life?

yes, it’s time for Hops.

now, this is a rather short lived affair, but over thanksgiving break, the entirety of the haus goes home to their families except for dex (who says he can’t deal with bus fare, and begs off any offers of help) and hops, who technically isn’t in the Haus, but stays there for the break while his parents are on a work trip during the holiday

dex ends up finding out just exactly how College Hockey Boy hops is when he almost burns the kitchen down trying to make a grilled cheese and dex decides then that he has to help this boy learn how to human, so they spend the first two days together with dex teaching hops all the basic skills dex thinks someone should know

this is included but not limited to: how to cook without making fire, how to change the oil in your car, how to hotwire a car, how to fix various different appliances, how to take the optimal notes, how to basic code, and how to sort and do your laundry

hops is enjoying the crash course (kid is just grateful to finally know where the detergent goes in a washer) but also, like, lbr. watching someone be competent in a thing--esp a thing you are yourself not good at--is a giant turn on, and so after two days of watching dex be really good at adulting, they settle onto the couch after doing the dishes and hops just gets on his knees and--

we aren’t smutting here on good christian tumblr but boy. hops is an eager kid.

anyway they spend a week fucking and then stop because hops falls in love with a girl in his intro class and then spends the next two months asking dex for advice on how to woo her, even though obviously chowder would be a better bet.

then comes the playoffs and everything is heating up and they’re on roadies nearly every weekend, still keeping up with their coursework, and it’s A Lot, and dex is really feeling it this year, especially with all the shit bitty’s been getting, and one night, on a roadie, he and bully get back to their room and dex collapses with a groan on the bed and bully, chill as anything, is like. “you seem pretty stressed. wanna fuck?”

and, you know what? dex is still his thotty (though more mature) self and he’s like, life sucks a little right now, why not get off

and so he does.

he and bully hook up through the playoffs and into the post-season (that post-final game sex is A Lot my dudes lemme tell you) but then dex gets elected captain and something twisty in his chest tells him that he should not be fucking someone on the team, especially not an underclassman, when he’s got that authority over him, and so he breaks it off with bully

who is pretty chill about it, since he’s bully, though he does miss the sex. the sex was p good.

and, to be quite honest, that’s it. dex wouldn’t fuck any of the baby frogs for the same reason he broke it off with bully (also ngl the senior-freshman thing doesn’t do it for him anymore) and so dex goes through his senior year of college without having any fuckbuddies--his first year of college so far, actually, where he doesn;t

the end

lol jk he and nursey start hooking up and it’s a Whole Bundle of emotions

in keeping with the rest of the fuck buddies, dex thinks that this is just like all the other times and nursey has no reason to think dex wants anything more and like. the sex is good, like very good, and neither of them are complaining per se but they’re also in love and haven’t said anything, and i imagine there are some ill-timed confessions prior to the final game of the playoffs and then they win another ncaa championship title and have sex in a janitor’s closet (but like,, emotional sex) and they live happily (thottily) ever after

i also like to imagine that there’s a point somewhere down the line when they all meet up for a reunion and something happens-- probably ransom and holster get a lil tipsy and finally tell the truth of how they got together-- and everyone basically does the spider-man meme but with “wait-you had sex with dex? i had sex with dex” and nursey--who knows bc dex told him when they finally got together-- is just sitting there all smug with his arm around a steadily reddening dex bc he’s fucking proud of the fact that everyone knows exactly how good his boyfriend is in bed

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diredove · 4 years

Text

Curious Fool

My first time attempting to write anything longer than headcanons, please note I’m going off of this AU! I’m in love with Crowley so I see this as an x reader story, but it can easily be interpreted as something else!

Warnings: Very Mild cursing, Crowley being scary (as in, threatening and a hand squeezing a throat), Me grasping at straws to make Potentially Evil!Dire make sense! Gender Neutral Reader as well!

You wondered about Dire Crowley more than you would like to admit. He was an enigma that your brain for some reason was terribly invested in solving. It started small, maybe because you were holding back your suspicion out of guilt, the man had given you a roof over your head and food to eat in this strange new world, surely he deserved better than you concocting conspiracy theories about him? But gratitude should not inspire stupidity in someone, and it didn't inspire in you.

Why exactly was he being so gracious? For all the pretty words he spoke to you, he certainly didn't act guilty. Every sympathy he offered to your plight felt like it was meant to silence you, "Shush, no more of that." he seemed to whisper between the lines. Yes, it was all too bad you were stuck in a world not your own and that poor, poor Crowley was working himself to the bone to find a way back for you to no avail, but what would you have him do? He's already being so kind.

And that was another thing, wasn't it? He wasn't all that kind at all, or if he was it was only in a backhanded way. Wasn't he just the sweetest thing alive for giving you a place to stay? As if you weren't breaking your damn back every single night sleeping on the couch of the teacher's lounge and waking to the racket of your dearest headmaster starting up that monstrous coffee maker at the crack of dawn each morning! Well, what about the food you were provided every single meal time? Quite generous, he'd say. And you would beg to differ because you had a diet of convenience store sandwiches and children's snacks and sodas! Everything you ate was from Sam's shop and didn't cost that old crow a dime!

And maybe, just maybe, you would have been more understanding and grateful for it given your circumstances, if Dire Crowley wasn't absolutely loaded. He could easily afford to buy you actual meals, put you up some place that wasn't a glorified common room, pay you! But for all his guilt and graciousness, he didn't. It felt like he was trying to trick into being grateful to him when he hadn't actually done anything for you to be grateful for, in the grand scheme of things.

But that's not all. If that had been it then you could have convinced yourself you were being dramatic and gone on with your topsy turvy little life. But no, Dire Crowley simply would not let you rest (on a proper bed or otherwise).

Why did he act like that? You were not someone to turn your nose up at an odd personality, considering how well you were handling being in a potential alternate universe, one might say you have one yourself. But there was just something... off about him. He always seemed a bit too happy, he laughed just a tad too hard, his stares were too intense, he went silent after whatever spiel he'd been on so quick you'd think he had a switch inside him. Alone, those were just the quirks of being human (though you didn't even know enough to call him that either), but they stacked up quickly.

And you had really fought with yourself on this, worried you were being prejudice against him out of paranoia, but then you saw him get angry.

Everyone gets angry, everyone yells sometimes, it's a fact of life and you're an adult who can accept that. But seeing the headmaster shift from harmless eccentric man to inflicting backbreaking labor on teenagers who didn't get to explain themselves at all was rather... jarring to say the least. He yelled in his oddly charming accent and his mask hid whatever anger would have shown on his face, and maybe you were being overprotective of the young ones and forgetting that that type of punishment was far more manageable in a world of magic. But you couldn't shake the feeling that he was holding back, like he was seconds away from sounding like a different person beneath the quirky act. Like a parent putting on a goofy voice to scold their child to keep themselves from letting their frustration show.

But, and maybe you're just dense from here on, all that did was make you squint a little. There was just as much of a chance of him putting up a front as there was of you misunderstanding things and reaching too far. But the seed had been planted, and now you were curious.

So, instead of coming up with crazy ideas you had no backing for, you thought: "Let's just ask."

Not Dire, of course, as if he would tell you the truth or appreciate you prodding him. Thankfully though, there were people close to him that you could interrogate instead.

And then you started hitting walls, thick ones.

"What's Dire's deal?" Seemed like a pretty clear question, so why was every single answer you got so convoluted?

Sam had tried to act unbothered, but you saw how his hand froze as he stocked the shelves of the Mystery Shop. He looked at you with his bright smile and waved his free had dismissively.

"He's something alright, I'll give him that! He's an odd one, I guess you could say! What's with the interest, Starlight?" He answered, though a question for a question hardly satisfied you.

Crewel had outright ignored you, even after you had repeated your question several times he kept maneuvering around you and acting like he was busy. He absolutely wasn't, he had moved the same four beakers back and forth between lab tables three times. Once he realized you weren't going to take his hint and scram, he looked down his nose at you as if you had ruined his entire week.

"You know, puppies that never stop yapping are troublesome. But do you know what's even more troublesome, Little Scamp? Puppies that sniff around where they don't belong. You'd do well to train yourself out of that habit, and quickly." He'd told you coldly, which shocked you into a stupor because you had thought him overzealous but friendly just moments before.

You had hoped Trein, with his unflappability and no nonsense policy, wouldn't beat around the bush and would be the one to change your luck so far. Instead, he averted his eyes and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He seemed to be taking extra care to choose his words, as though they were fragile as glass slippers. Even Lucius looked still in his arms.

"He is a man, as am I, nothing more and nothing less. It is best to leave it at that, My Dear." He implored you gently, you couldn't help but feel this was as close to a plea as the stoic man would ever get. Lucius stared at you unblinkingly, as if trying to determine your answer through your eyes alone.

You hoped the cat couldn't actually tell, because your answer was no.

You still had one more shot. Vargas was loud and a bit much at times, but his love of his own voice would work in your favor. However, you had learned from your mistakes and decided getting straight to the point wasn't in your best interest. If everyone wanted to play with you, it was only right to join the game.

"Please, tell me more about your school days, Ashton! Were you really the star of the Magic Shift team?" You asked in an awed tone, eyes wide.

The coach was eating it up like it was his last meal, you had been stroking the man's ego for over two hours already and if he tells you about the goal that turned the playoffs around one more time you think you'll snap. But his defenses are down, and his lips are loose, so you'll grin and bare just a little longer.

"That's right! I was king of NRC, undisputed! There wasn't a soul on campus who didn't want to be mine!" The man boasted, "Well, except for Beth. She wasn't all there though, not that I cared! She wasn't all that, I'm not bitter about it!"

He's definitely bitter about it, but you don't have time to unpack that when your opening is right in front of you.

"Right right, I totally get it. Hey, speaking of the past, when did you meet Crowley?"

Okay, you lied. There wasn't an opening at all, you burst in with a sledgehammer. But your cutesy act was getting hard to keep up!

Vargas takes the sloppy bait though, " Oh, that guy? He just kinda popped up and offered me a job to be honest. The pays good, so I deal with the old coot being a weirdo."

You have to stop yourself from lighting up, "Weirdo?" You question dumbly, finger on your chin and all.

Vargas looks both ways and then gestures for you to come closer, you can't tell if he's being playful or not with that glint in his eyes.

"Look, don't tell anyone I told you this, okay Dolly? Crowley's got some crazy going on around here, I swear. I don't know details but I've got suspicions." The coach whispers, you nod eagerly for him to continue.

"There's this... room. I don't know what's in it, it's always locked and not even the staff master key opens it. He goes in there every Friday, and I don't see him come out, he just appears again Monday morning. There's this bright light that shines under the door whenever he goes in, and after a few seconds, it stops." Ashton explains, and it's more than you had hoped for.

Creepy locked room, disappearing act, unexplained happenings? This is exactly the dirt you've been looking for!

"He thinks he's being sneaky about it, but I caught on, see? I was following him to ask about a some paperwork and I saw it. I know somethings up, Crowley is up to no good and I don't care how crazy I sound." Ashton stresses, as he goes on he seems more serious, you can't take time to be happy about your findings because he looks so pale.

"Vargas, are you oka-"

"Listen Dolly, I know you're curious, but you don't want nothing to do with this and neither do I. Freaky shit is going down, and if you're smart like me you'll act like you don't know a thing."

You stare at him. H-Had he been on to you the whole time?

"I'm trying to help you, stay away from the west wing and don't-" He stops. His eyes are on something behind you.

"V-Vargas?" You call, shakily.

"I've said enough. Stay outta the west wing, Doll. For your own good."

You don't stay out of the west wing.

In fact, you deliberately seek it out. Ace gives you a funny look when you ask him, but he points you in the right direction anyway. You wish you were more embarrassed about being a member of staff asking students for directions, but you've got bigger fish to fry.

You know this isn't smart, no matter how harmless the headmaster may seem, no one likes being found out. But your life is in his golden-clawed hands and you'd feel even less smart following him blindly and hoping you're safe with him.

The west wing isn't what you expected (though to be fair you had been expecting a torture chamber), it's an entirely normal hall like all the others in school. It's so mundane your face falls. There's also no way to tell if anything is amiss from a glance alone, so you'll have to use less tact than you were hoping to. Making your way down the hall you turn each knob one by one to see which won't turn.

After about twenty or so doors, curse the long hallways in this college, you see one that's quite out of place. It's at the very end of the hall, how cliché, and while it is the same size and color as all the others, it's surrounded with a ridiculous number of portraits. There are big ones above the doorframe and little ones squeezed into the narrow spaces along the sides of it, and if that wasn't enough, the ones that wouldn't fit in either spot were enchanted to float nearby. And the portraits themselves are nothing like the silly but sweet ones that gossip as they watch over everyone who passes in the main building, these are painted with snarls and angered eyes. Both human and nonhuman beings are depicted, each one staring straight at whomever would stand in front of the door. Their eyes seem to be looking in every direction at once even though their pupils are painted straight ahead, it feels like they can see everything without shifting their gaze. You can't even tell if they're alive like the others, they're so... cold.

You take a deep breath, that must be it. You've come to this far, and you'd planned everything so carefully there was no reason to be afraid. The students were having Magift practice today, so that meant Vargas was busy, but it also meant that Crowley was doing his rounds and would stop to "give the players some good old fashioned encouragement ". He would go on forever, there was plenty of time for you to investigate and cover your tracks before he ever even wondered where you were.

You could admit the only person you were convincing was yourself, but it helped you forced your legs to move toward the end of the hall. Even as you walked closer, you knew you shouldn't, the air around you seemed like it was trying to force you back, oppressively pushing you with every step you took towards that door. You wouldn't be able to open it, Ashton had told you already, what exactly were you gaining, being stared down by the lifelike yet lifeless portraits as you neared the door? Nothing, and yet your hand grabbed the knob impulsively, you hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath until it left your lungs in a rush at the touch of icy cold iron in your clammy grip.

You shouldn't have touched it, you shouldn't have, now what? Your plan was to turn back after your curiosity was sated, but you couldn't. The force that was pushing back against you before was now pulling you forward, beckoning you. The portraits no longer looked like a warning, but an invitation. You've come so far, now come a little closer, something that wasn't a voice nor a thought breathed around you.

You twist the doorknob, like a fool.

It turns.

Your heart leaps with excitement and fear, and you feel a surge of adrenaline run through your body. You can go in, you can go farther!

You feel yourself smiling widely even though you're sure you're not happy, you go to push the door open just a little further.

You stop as four pinpricks upon your throat flare with pain, your eyes go wide like a deer and you freeze.

"Crewel was right, you're truly nothing but trouble."

The voice sounds familiar, and yet nothing like the person it belongs to. But you'd know those gold-tipped fingers anywhere.

"I really am getting on in years, to make such a mistake." Dire sighs, his voice does not lilt and his tone is low. He sounds like an actor who's given up on staying in character.

You catch a whimper in your throat when the hand upon it slides up the front of your neck to grip under your chin and rear you head back at a terrible angle. You meet the dead-eyed gaze of Crowley's mask as he looks straight down at you.

"But you've made an even bigger mistake, Youngling, by testing me."

You want to apologize, or plead for your safety, because the man looming over you is not the one you've grown reluctantly fond of. But because we have established that you are a fool, you say instead:

"Your vest is a mistake. There's sequins on it." You snark weakly, you sound pathetic, half because of the grade school insult and half because you're gasping for breath.

Dire stares down at you blankly. Then he grins, not his usual one full of jolly cheer, but a wide toothy one that is just a few degrees off from a sneer.

"Oh, you really think you're just the cutest little thing under the sun, don't you?" He asks, he chuckles halfway through but it's dry and dark.

Why are you so foolish, why do you speak?

Abruptly, the pressure points on your neck are released and you fall to your knees, gulping sweet sweet air.

"Well you're right! You're just adorable, thinking you could catch me out!" Dire shouts cheerfully, hands on his hips and accent back in full swing. His façade is back in place like it was never gone.

You stare in disbelief.

"You know, anyone else would have to be put under a curse of eternal silence for snooping around like you did." He continues, "But I am so very kind, I'm going to let you walk out of here without laying a finger on you."

You shakily get to your feet, leaning against the wall for support and as something to curl in on to cower from the overly happy man before you.

He stares at you smiling for many moments too long, you know he's trying to scare you and you're angry at yourself for being so. Abruptly, he nods.

"I'll be off then, I'm sure you get the message? Of course you do! Make your way back to your room then, off you get! Goodbye!"

The man walks away quickly, waving his hand in farewell.

He left you without a fight, with the door left unlocked and you still in position to reveal what was on the other side. You balk at the obvious show of his power over you.

He knew you were too terrified now, he knew you would obey him like a dog told to stay, the smug bastard.

You bite your lip in frustration and confused tears fill your eyes. You just want to know what's going on, you just want to go home! Nothing makes sense.

You look at the door that's slightly ajar.

Then at the exit of the west wing across the long hall.

You can no longer hear Crowley's footsteps.

And because you are a fool, and because you are defiant, and because you want some semblance of control, you make a mad dash through the door before you can change your mind.

#dire crowley x reader #Dire Crowley #twisted wonderland #twst

106 notes · View notes

penaltbox · 4 years

Text

flights, fate, and football games (4+1) - quinn hughes

*or 4 times you were in the same place and didn’t know it + 1 time you were in the same place on purpose*

if you like it let me know :) reblog it, send me a message, leave your thoughts in the tags. thanks in advance!

word count: ~3k

Same restaurant/Post playoffs

You wave at your two best friends as soon as you enter the restaurant, surprisingly being the one who was late this time. You hit more traffic than you expected, but Pop’s was not to be missed.

The little Ferndale restaurant was one of your favorites and you needed the time to wind down after the crazy week you’d had. You hear a guy’s voice behind you talking to the suddenly excited hostess as you walk past her to get to your table, but never glance back at who it might have been.

“Wow, for once we aren’t the late ones,” Abby smiles, nudging Hannah with her elbow.

“Oh, aren’t you guys funny,” you roll your eyes playfully, but take a seat with them, “it wasn’t my fault though. Traffic was insane on the highway. It’s like everyone forgot how to drive at once.”

“I hit some traffic too, no worries,” Hannah smiles, glancing over your shoulder, “did you somehow miss those super cute boys that came in behind you though? The one was so your type.”

Your eyes widen a little as you turn around to quickly survey the area you’d just come from. There’s no one waiting at the front of the restaurant though, so you turn back with a frown.

“I mean, I heard a guy’s voice as I walked in but I didn’t think to look back at him. Why? Was he really that cute?” You ask, looking around the restaurant to see if you could find who she was talking about.

Abby sighs, “I can’t see where they went either but Hannah and I noticed them as soon as you got here. We should have got you to turn around somehow.”

You shrug, checking over the menu and deciding between a pizza or the bolognese instead, “I guess if I was supposed to have seen him then I would have.”

You would have looked around for him more but the waiter showed up and you were dying to get your hands on a glass of wine to start your weekend off.

...

“Quinn, I swear if you don’t start talking to cute girls when you see them I’ll end your career,” Will points across the table.

Josh holds his hands up and laughs, “guys, come on. We all know Quinn isn’t smooth enough to seal the deal anyways.”

This gets the other two laughing, but Quinn doesn’t find it as humorous. He rolls his eyes and tries to fight off a smile. He opts for focusing his attention extra carefully on the menu rather than fueling the fire that was already started.

“Hey, by the end of summer you never know. Maybe you’ll be able to land a girl. It might take a small miracle, but we’ll help you out if we can,” Will grins, thinking it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“Great,” Quinn nods, thinking matchmaker Will sounded like a living nightmare, “I’m sure that would go well.”

He tries to brush it off, but the thought lingers a little longer. He’d find someone one of these days. His mom always told him he shouldn’t rush a good thing. It would happen when it was supposed to.

Your brother’s hockey practice/Early June

“I swear to god, Adam, you need to get moving,” you mumble, watching your brother get beat in yet another drill.

The air inside USA arena was definitely colder than outside and you were wondering how you’d managed to get stuck picking him up that night. He seemed off though so maybe he’d asked your mom if you’d get him. Sometimes he needed to talk, and definitely not to your parents.

The whistle blows loudly and you watch your little brother skate off with his head down. He’d been lucky to make the U17’s but you could tell he was struggling. It made your heart hurt and you knew the drive home would involve the long route that day.

You wait in the lobby, responding to your group chat that had somehow blown up while you watched the end of the practice. You’re in the middle of a message when an oddly familiar voice catches your attention.

You pick up your head and look around just as a group of guys head down the stairs to the locker rooms. You don’t manage to see any of them but something about the voice you’d heard seemed to catch your attention for some reason. Where had you heard that voice before?

Adam comes barreling out of the doors, an annoyed look on his face, “let’s go.”

“Hi to you too, asshole,” you scoff, but the look on his face matches the tone he’d given you. Something was wrong.

You grab your keys and walk out of the arena, glancing over at your only sibling, “Adam, what’s wrong? Wasn’t there another practice after that you wanted to watch or something?”

“No, some alumni guys rented the ice next and pushed the 18’s back an hour,” he mumbles, his hands dug down in his pockets.

You reach over and ruffle his hair, despite the fact he’s well taller than you now, “come on, we’re getting ice cream before we get home. And you can tell me what’s got you so worked up on the way.”

A smile takes over his face finally as he reaches your car, “okay fine. So there’s this girl in my chem class but she’s dating a football player.”

“Ew,” you laugh, playing along with the story, “also if you’re playing like shit because you’re mad that a girl you like is taken then I’m kicking your ass”.

“Hey, it was one bad practice. Just don’t tell dad,” he looks over, “surprised you didn’t want to stay and watch the next practice though. You know it’s the guys who went on to play college and pros and stuff right?”

You almost smack him when you see how smug he looks, but you hold off for once, “the last thing I need is some trouble maker hockey player to deal with. I already have you.”

“Suit yourself. Every girl I know loves Hughes though,” he shrugs.

The name sounds familiar but you don’t think twice about it for some reason. Of course you wanted a boyfriend but you weren’t sure you wanted your younger brother setting that up for you.

…

“Try not to suck tonight, okay?” Jack laughs, shrugging his bag a little higher on his shoulder as he picks on his older brother.

Quinn laughs and shoves him sideways, “try not to get run over. Are you gonna put any weight on this summer, bud?”

“You’re both getting lapped,” Alex interjects, walking between the two and entering the arena first.

Quinn notices you leaning against the wall in the lobby and does a double take. Had he seen you before? Why did you seem so familiar? You had to be waiting for someone if you were there, he knew the 17’s had the ice, so maybe you were younger than he thought.

He shakes off the odd feeling he gets from seeing you and turns to find his brother grinning. Quinn knows he’s been caught staring and he immediately bumps Jack into the wall.

“Don’t even think about it!” He says, hurrying down the stairs as Alex holds the door.

“I’m just saying!” Jack yells after his older brother, “I could go play wingman for you!”

Quinn thinks that sounds like the worst thing ever, if he’s being honest. The last thing he needs is to rely on his brother to set him up. He could see that going wrong in a million different ways.

The airport/pre-4th of July

You sigh, slouching down in your seat a little further as you take a sip of your coffee. You wish your anxiety didn’t have you at the airport almost two hours before takeoff, but here you were.

You watch a few planes take off, ignoring your surroundings for a little while as you wonder where the people might be going and why. You respond to a text from your aunt in Boston, who you were going to visit, and quickly get lost in your thoughts again.

You let your eyes start to wander after a bit and they land on a cute boy a few rows over. He’s sitting with a few other boys around his age and you glance over at their gate. New Hampshire? What was even in New Hampshire?

You watch him for a few more minutes, but shake your head before looking back out the window. You certainly weren’t brave enough to go talk to him and you didn’t want to get caught staring. Something about him seemed so familiar but you brush it off, figuring you were just imagining things.

…

Quinn drops his backpack and sits heavily into the creaky airport chair, arguing with Luke about what they’d do first when they got to the cabin. There was no winning the argument but Luke liked to be a pest and Quinn had learned from being gone so much that sometimes he just needed to let his little brother bug him while he could.

Airports were so boring and he’d luckily stalled enough that his parents didn’t have them all there three hours early for once. Quinn lets Luke “win” the argument finally, agreeing that they’ll go on the boat as soon as they get there.

Quinn’s attention wanders and he looks around the airport, his eyes seeming to focus on the gate heading for Boston. His eyebrows pull together as he tries to squint and see the line of people boarding. He swears he sees a familiar face but he’s not so sure.

There’s no way it was the same person he saw at the arena a few weeks ago, right? He blinks hard and suddenly he’s hit with a water bottle in the chest.

“Dude are you good?” Jack questions him, waving a hand in front of the older boy’s face.

Quinn looks at his brother quickly before checking where you’d been standing, only to find you’d already boarded the plane, “yeah, knock it off. Can’t you leave me alone for like five minutes ever?”

Quinn is mildly annoyed that his brother pulled the stunt when he did and he’d lost sight of you before he could be sure. Maybe you were from Boston and you were headed home. That wouldn’t explain why you were at USA arena unless your brother played there, too.

He turns to Luke then, elbowing the youngest Hughes to get his attention, “do you play with any kids from Boston?”

Ann Arbor/football game/late August

You laugh as you try and keep up with Abby and Hannah, excited for one last year at the school that held your heart. You were convinced you could never leave Ann Arbor and luckily for one more year you didn’t have to.

The weather was perfect that night as the first football game was set to kickoff in no time but the three of you had left a pregame a bit later than you planned for. You’re being rushed through the crowd by Hannah, who has a tight hold on your hand, when Abby suddenly veers off.

“Hold on, I need to say hi to him!” She yells over her shoulder, causing Hannah to stop in her tracks and you to slam into her back.

The two of you stumble a little but fix yourself, standing and watching where Abby had run off to. She moves to a group of guys and your stomach turns a little with worry, hoping she actually knew who these people were.

You’re about to march over when you see the boy. The one from the airport. You shake your head a little, trying to make sure you weren’t imagining what you were seeing, but he really is there. Abby is talking to his friends and he’s got a soft smile that makes you want to know more about him. He’s not as outspoken as his friends and his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he’s not sure what else to do with them.

Hannah catches you staring and laughs, “that’s Quinn by the way. I know you’re looking. Abby met those boys a couple months ago while she did her classes on campus. Can you believe they’re the ones we saw at Pop’s at the beginning of the summer?”

“They’re who?” You ask, your brain speeding through the memories, but all that keeps coming up is Quinn.

Pop’s, the airport, and now here. Was he the guy from the rink too? Was that the voice you’d recognized. There was no way you’d been in all the same places for the last three months and never talked to each other or actually truly met. What kind of fate was playing around with you two?

You glance back over at Quinn only to find him looking at you, too. Your cheeks feel instantly hot and you bite your lip, looking away quickly. You hated that you reacted so quickly to something so simple. Maybe he was looking at Hannah, you tried to reason with yourself. Or maybe he recognized you too.

…

Quinn is shocked when a bouncy little blonde runs up to Josh and says hello to him. She’s happy as can be and Quinn would be lying if he said she wasn’t cute. She quickly introduces herself and motions back at her friends, talking a mile a minute, when Quinn realizes he’d definitely met her earlier that summer.

Her and her friends were going to the game but if the boys wanted to hang out after they’d be having a small party at their place and they were more than welcome to come. Quinn gives Josh a little nod when the taller boy checks with him for plans and Josh smiles at the girl he’d been talking about for weeks now.

Quinn looks around the crowd of maize and blue, looking for the friends she’d mentioned, and his eyes freeze on one in particular. You’re so familiar in that moment and suddenly you’re the prettiest girl he sees there. It was the same feeling as the rink, the airport, and now here in Ann Arbor. What were the chances that he’d ran into you this many times but never talked to you?

He sees you and your friend watching in their direction and he catches your eye. You blush and bite your lip, making him smile right away. That had to be the cutest thing he’d seen in a long time. He forgets that Abby has mentioned her friends and he’s about to walk over and talk to you when Josh grabs his arm.

“Come on, we have to go this way to get to the field,” Josh says, nodding in the opposite direction of the girls.

Quinn is about to argue, but sighs instead, “yeah, okay. Did you say we’re seeing them again later?”

+1 Your friends set you up/late August/post football game

“You wouldn’t stop staring at him. Don’t even try and lie about it now!” Hannah accuses, pointing her finger at you.

You feel like you’re dying of embarrassment and Abby can’t stand up straight because of how hard she’s laughing over the situation. You were being bullied by your best friends and none of you could contain your laughter over it all. There were more than a few people watching the scene as you made your way around the field, trying to find which section your tickets were for.

“Stop, I don’t even know him!” You say, though it’s only a partial lie.

Abby snorts a little and carefully wipes a tear away from the corner of her eye, “holy shit, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Yeah, Quinn is awkward as hell but I think you two would be amazing so you’re definitely meeting him tonight.”

She’s quick to pull out her phone and text Josh, already making a plan with him to get you and Quinn cornered in the same area. You can’t fight her on this. Once Abby set her mind to something it was going to happen so you were just along for the ride at this point.

The football game goes by too fast considering it was the last first game of the season you’d ever get as an undergrad, but the three of you are in such good moods that you hardly have time to be sad about it.

You leave the game a few minutes early to try and beat some of the crowds as you head back for the house you all shared. You almost forget the boys are coming over as you head to the kitchen and grab a drink. You figured you had a little while before they’d show anyways.

Popping the top of your can, you take a big drink and sigh. You hear Abby’s little giggle behind you and you whip around confused. You’re suddenly face to face with Quinn and you immediately blush in embarrassment.

“Uh, hi,” you stutter, giving him a little smile even though you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Hi,” he says, and you know immediately that he was the one you’d almost run into so many times that summer.

His smile is just as nervous as yours and you get why Abby had called him awkward before. He fidgets with his hands as he stands in front of you but it’s endearing somehow. He’s not overly cocky or trying to impress you somehow and yet you’re completely on board with getting to know him.

He’s a stranger, technically, but he feels so familiar that you laugh a little. Quinn’s eyebrows furrow over the noise but he doesn’t actually ask.

“Sorry, it’s just… did you want a drink or something?” you offer, trying to keep yourself from getting giddy over having him in front of you after all the months of fate making sure you dodged each other.

His smile gets bigger then and he seems to relax, “yeah, that sounds good. Maybe I could steal you too and get to know you? If you want anyways.”

You nod, not hiding your smile anymore, “I think I’d really like that. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

#quinn hughes #my writing #mine #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes

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suganovakawa · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : bits of cursing here and there

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 .

the playoffs are soon ; why is it so hard to please tooru ?

word count : 1.4k

saudade masterlist.

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀just how many girls has he waved at today? you huffed to yourself as tooru continuously paid attention to girl after girl, giving them a soft smile and wishing them a good day as they stood by, simply waiting for their presence. you could've stood around for a tissue for some of them, they looked like they were about to start drooling at any given moment.

⠀jealousy travelled through your body, as shameful as it was to admit. oikawa was walking next to you, but that was as far as interaction was between the two of you. he hardly even looked down in your direction, mindlessly giving his fans the attention they craved. iwaizumi was right, it was hard to tell if you and the popular third year were dating or not. you shook the thought away subtly, just a shake of your head, rendering such worries as selfish.

⠀after all, you knew exactly what you were getting into when you confessed your feelings to tooru.

⠀it just would've been nice if he tried harder to give you some attention too, you know?

⠀your gut could tell oikawa kept a minor grudge from the other night, when you and iwaizumi just about dragged him out of the place. you apologized to him - multiple times, actually - and he even said he was fine, that your care for him was completely understable. hell, he even solidified it with a kiss to your forehead.

⠀so why did it feel like there was a wall separating you from him?

⠀you opened your mouth to say something to him as you and him approached your lunch table, but stopped abruptly when approaching the others. the volleyball team ate together, but today was a special occasion: tooru had some last minute things to discuss with the rest of the team regarding the upcoming playoffs.

⠀their main focus was to just get through the other teams in the way, then to give it their all against shiratorizawa. on multiple occasions seijoh kept a steady lead against that all-star team, only to be thwarted by that damn ushiwaka. watching shiratorizawa steal the victory from aoba johsai's hands was infuriating to say the least, and having to repeat the process over and over again was just insanity.

⠀you were just the manager, so there wasn't much you could do to contribute to their discussion. volleyball wasn't your forte. but for the sake of the others, you tagged along alongside tooru so you could at least listen to the conversation. it wasn't like you could sit anywhere else, anyway. most of the girls slowly began to shun you when you began to date the brunette.

⠀hanamaki was the first to acknowledge your guys' presence, signaling for the others to pull your seats out so the two of you could sit down. tooru, surprisingly, let you sit down first, placing a hand on your back as you slid down into your chair. he soon followed with his own, his hands folded and perched on the table. he waited for the other guys to stop and pay attention, that same scheming glint in his eyes he always has before and during a game.

⠀"this is our last chance this year to win against shiratorizawa." you could see tooru's fists clench at the name itself, tension rising by the second. "we have to do something to guarantee a win. altogether have the potential to beat ushiwaka, it's just a matter of putting such actions into motion to prove it." he looked to hajime, sat in between kindaichi and matsukawa. "any ideas, iwa?"

⠀"me?" the ace shot tooru a confused glance, an eyebrow cocked upwards as he watched the captain lean back in his chair. "why would you want to hear something from me?"

⠀"well, you and him are both aces. i figure if you think hard enough, there's something you could give us that could give us a shot against ushiwaka." he then laughed. "or is your brain not big enough to come up with such thoughts, dear iwa-chan?"

⠀you pressed your lips together as you watched the spiky-haired male visibly show his irritation towards the setter. the others hadn't bothered to say anything, either too busy eating or just caught up with the tension. maybe even a little bit of both. since there was nothing you could do, you tried to mainly focus on your own lunch, but the discussion was becoming too interesting to ignore.

⠀"what even is there to know about ushijima?" iwaizumi placed a hand on the back of his own neck, letting out a sigh as he shrugged lightly. "he's a crazy powerful guy, if that wasn't obvious enough. the main problem is stopping his hits, nothing technical. if we strengthen our defenses we may just have a better shot at beating shiratorizawa. we know they rely on him to rack up the points when they're in a pinch; and he damn well delivers."

⠀tooru clenched his jaw when hajime finished speaking, the gears spinning in his brain as he tried to figure out a way to better their chances. what the ace said was far from incorrect. the playoffs were in two days; it wasn't like they could practice enough in such a short time to surpass the defense levels of date tech, but it was worth a shot, wasn't it?

⠀"you're too focused on shiratorizawa, oikawa." issei crossed his arms, earning a head whip from the captain. "don't invest all of your time on that school, just because you have a score to settle with one of the players. there are other schools, too."

⠀"like what?" oikawa scoffed at his comment, waving it off with his hand. "we've not had any trouble with other teams, so i'm not concerned about them. it's shiratorizawa that-"

⠀"karasuno put up a pretty good fight the last time you guys played them, you know."

⠀your mouth opened before you could even process what you were going to say, and before you could stop yourself, your voice had already laid itself out on the table. your mouth shut up completely as tooru turned his attention to you, his eyes growing agitated that you even mentioned that school.

⠀"karasuno? karasuno?" he spat out, his head fully facing in your direction as his sharp brown eyes narrowed, almost intimidatingly. "don't make me laugh. what they pulled the last time we played them was nothing but a fluke. their strongest weapon is that quick attack that tobio and shrimpy have. and from what happened last game," he sneered, "they won't be much of a problem."

⠀"but they're practicing too, tooru." you've heard of karasuno before, the wingless crows. from what you witnessed at the interhighs, however, their current team could not be referred to such a title anymore. their first years were a force to be reckoned with - even an idiot could see that. "obviously they're not going to be better than our team, but it doesn't hurt to be wary of them, right?"

⠀"y/n." tooru was clearly getting annoyed with you, but you ignored that dropping feeling in your stomach. "we know karasuno has tricks up their sleeve, but it's nothing we can't handle. they have their strengths, and we have ours. it just so happens that our strengths are more superior to theirs." he poked your nose with his index finger before continuing. "believe me, my darling, they are not a threat. they can only pull so many tricks up their sleeve, and all we have to do is stuff each of them, one by one."

⠀the first and second years appeared mildly concerned as oikawa lectured you for your measly suggestion, yahaba and watari giving each other side glances. mattsun and makki were sharing the same looks, but they didn't dare interrupt the captain, for fear that they, too, would get the same treatment.

⠀there was no winning against tooru.

⠀"sorry, tooru." you muttered, looking down at your lap, giving up whatever reason left.

⠀you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders, looking up slightly as your boyfriend pulled you closer to his chest, giving you a side hug - since both of you were still sitting in chairs. he didn't look happy, but his irritation had lessened. "just leave the volleyball stuff to me, y/n. alright? just be our cute little manager, and we'll go from there."

⠀"sure, tooru." even with the lack of enthusiasm, your head instinctively rested against his chest, taking a deep breath and quietly listening to his heartbeat. your ears blocked out whatever tooru said to the others after that, since you surely didn't have a reason to listen in.

⠀still, that sinking feeling in your stomach refused to go away.

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Note

General #36 or Angst #10 with Vince Dunn??

Imma try for both I got carried away anyway I’m sorry

36. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?”

10. “How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?”

Send me a number and boy from this prompt list!

I still don’t get why y’all love Vince Dunn but sure because I love my followers nad people who send these in

You remember the night you met like it was yesterday. You and your friends happened to be at the same bar as the team, not knowing who they were since none of you were really the hockey type. The only thing you knew about them was that the team they beat for the championship was a team everyone hated, the reason why, you had no idea.

It was crowded, nearly impossible to move around the venue without bumping into someone or having someone bump into you. And that’s why you were surprised he found you in the first place.

“Would it be crazy to tell you that I’ve been staring at you all night?” the stranger asks you, leaning against the bar next to you. Had the bar not been so crowded, you wouldn’t be so close, but there was something about him that you didn’t mind.

“Just a little. It seems a bit stalkerish,” you joke, pulling a laugh from his lips.

“I’m Vince,” he introduces himself, you doing the same. Looking behind you, he pulls you close to him to let another guy squeeze past you to get another drink sitting on the counter. “Sorry,” he says, giving you a small smile. His hand was still on your the small of your back, his eyes flicking back and forth between your lips and your eyes. “I didn’t think you’d want someone bumping into you.”

“What a gentleman,” you tease, biting your lip.

Your first date was a week later. You didn’t know how much you could want to go on a date with someone until you had to wait to see Vince again.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he says, pulling you in for a hug once he sees you. He had asked you to meet him at a nearby restaurant, one that wasn’t horribly fancy, but not a McDonald’s by any means.

“You’re really good with those pick up lines, aren’t you?” you ask him, seeing as every conversation you’ve had with him started with something cheesey like that.

You spend the night flirting, somehow incredibly comfortable with him, but something felt a little off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, so you just ignored it.

He takes your hand, guiding you out of the restaurant to lead you down the streets of the city. you stop at a corner, waiting for the cross signal to turn. He pulls you in close, his eyes going back and forth between your lips like they did the night you met. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?”

You smile at him, “I guess I just have that effect on people,” before pulling him in for the kiss he desperately wanted.

You had been seeing him for a few months. Something was a little weird with him, not avoiding seeing you when you both had free time, but there was always some sort of excuse, especially on Tuesday nights.

“Hey, babe,” you say into your phone. “What are you up to tonight?”

“Uh,” you hear him hesitate, “Sammy and I were planning on streaming tonight.”

“Oh, ok. I had wanted to see you before you leave for the road trip, but that’s fine,” you say your voice dripping with disappointment.

“I’ll see you when I get back? You’re still picking me up from the airport, right?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

Something wasn’t right though. You thought you should trust him, but part of you was telling you there was something wrong. You immediately diall Sammy, praying that he would say the same thing when you asked about his plans.

“No, sorry, Y/N. I haven’t heard from him since practice.”

You knew he was lying to you now, but why? What was he hiding?

You were going over his place to hang out with him for the first time in a few weeks. The conversations with him were few and far between, you telling yourself that it was all because the team was trying to make their final push for the playoffs, currently sitting four points outside of the wildcard spot. Part of you didn’t want them to make it so you would have more time with him, but you knew how badly they were fighting for it.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets you, his lips planted on yours before you can even make it through his door.

“Hey, stranger, haven’t seen you in a while.” He lets out a laugh. It almost sounds nervous, but you shake it off. You were overanalyzing, letting your worries get the best of you. He guides you inside, the two of you plopping on the couch.

He starts up a movie, his arm around you as you absentmindedly play with the tips of his fingers. Throughout the movie, he kisses the top of your head, whispering things like, “I’ve missed you,” and “I love you.”

You feel your phone buzzing, messages on Instagram from someone you don’t know.

“Who’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shifting yourself away from him. It was from another girl, a video following a message that said, ‘you don’t know me, but I know you need to see this. I’m so sorry.’

You play what looks to be a Snapchat video, the date tag on it from Tuesday night. It was in a bar, a guy making out with a girl. You felt your world crashing around you when you see who the guy was pulling away.

“Vince, what is this?” you ask him, showing him the video that was just sent to you. “Are you cheating on me?”

He closes his eyes, sucking his lips in, “Fuck.”

“Fuck?” you scream, getting up off the couch. “You’ve been cheating on me and all you have to say is, ‘fuck?’ Is this why you lied to me on Tuesday night about where you were?“

“How did you know I lied?”

“I asked Sammy!”

“You had no right to do that,” he says, trying to steady his breath. He knew he messed up. He knew he’s been messing up.

“When I thought something was off it became my right to ask Sammy if you were hanging out with him. God, how was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me? I trusted you! I gave you every part of me, and you turn around and do this to me?” You couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over, your voice from getting louder.

“I am so sorry, baby,” he says, his eyes covered in a sheen of glass, tears falling down his cheeks.

“Sorry isn’t enough, Vince.”

#vince dunn #vince dunn imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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