#the fact that she is able to play pro hockey and make a living off of it and get the accolades and attention she deserves is. so. wonderful

[penaltbox]

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.”

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 5

Requested: No

Word Count: 2838

Warning: Not really anything, maybe cursing at this point I think I at least use one swear word in if not more..haha

POV: Tyler

Notes: The next couple pieces are a bit fluffy. Currently working on Part 7, Part 6 will be up later this week. Also interested in maybe working on another piece, if anyone has any recommendations.

You were going to be a dad; it was the first thought that popped into your head as you opened your eyes. Though why that surprised you, you can’t be certain; as it was the last one you had before you fell asleep. What had transpired last evening was like something out of a movie. Never in a million years had you expected (Y/N) to tell you she was pregnant! That she loved you, you hoped; that you should go to hell was more likely. But never that she was carrying your baby.

It was crazy how when you heard the news; all the doubts you had about being a good father, good husband had just vanished out the window. When she uttered those words all you could think about was; is she ok, is the baby ok, only their well-being mattered. In that moment you realized that your passion for hockey waned in comparison to your need to protect them, care for them, and most of all love them. If you could have only known this three months ago. There was no changing the past now; you needed to work towards the future, a future with (Y/N) and your unborn child.

 That meant getting your ass out of bed, going to morning skate and start playing like you deserved the eight-year contract you just signed. With renewed hope, you hauled yourself to the kitchen to feed the dogs and yourself. Making yourself a healthy breakfast you caught yourself singing along to the radio playing in the background. It was the first time in months you’d actually felt alive.

 Entering the arena, a tad late, you bolted onto the ice; whizzing around getting your skating legs underneath you. The drills that had only just days ago seem mundane and useless, now skated with renewed precision. Working with your line; passes were crisper, shots perfectly placed. Taking aim at the net, you brought your stick back, cracking the puck and letting it soar past Bishop, into the net. God it felt good. “That a boy, Seggy,” Monty finally being able to cheer you on. The hour flew by, faster than when you were five-years-old; thinking it had only been ten minutes. You were last off the ice, taking a few extra practice shots before heading into the locker room. By the time you entered most of your teammates had left, a few lingered; but you sensed Jamie stayed on purpose.

 Once everyone else had taken leave Jamie finally came up to you. “So, I take it things went well last night?” He had known you were going to the charity event in hopes to see (Y/N). While he didn’t entirely approve of your methods, he was rooting for the two of you to reconcile.

 “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly. But we’re making progress.”

 “Wanna talk about it?” Needing to rehash some of last night, you nodded. Staff still milled around, and it was not a discussion that you needed everyone hearing. “I’ve gotta drop this shit off at my house then I’ll be over.” People didn’t give Jamie enough credit; he was an excellent captain, always knowing what his fellow teammates needed, always handling things with digression.

Packing up you headed back to your place; the short ride giving you time to re-evaluate. Jamie pulled in almost immediately behind you. Making coffee you began to recount your night. “I put her through hell Chubbs. You have no idea.”

 “I’m sure things haven’t been easy for her.”

 “That’s putting it mildly. The beginning of the night was an all-out battle. She doesn’t trust me, and I can’t blame her.” You described all the details of what transpired to Jamie, how she didn’t sleep for days, got dismissed from work, and finally how depression had overtaken her. There was just one last thing to mention; tiny as it might be in form, it was probably the biggest aspect of the night. “All that shit I put her through, but that wasn’t the worst thing. And, not that it’s a bad thing. Shit, I don’t even know how to say it. Or even if I should be.” Vaguely wondering who all (Y/N) had already told.

 “Segs I’m not going to say anything to anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. And trust me I’m not going to look at (Y/N) any differently.”

 “Well she’s gonna look differently.” Jamie just stared at you, your comment not making any sense at all. You had a feeling it was the look you had given when (Y/N) had said ‘we’re gone,’ last night. “She’s pregnant man, with my baby.” The possessiveness in you making you add that last part.

 “Fuck are you serious?”

 “Yeah, I was fucking stunned. And then of course I did the most stupid thing possible and asked if it was mine.”

 “Jesus, Tyler! You know that woman loves you. She would never cheat on you.” The fact that he just called you Tyler made you again realize how badly you’d screwed up last night.

 “Well it wouldn’t have been cheating, we weren’t together.” Jamie just shook his head at the stupidity of your statement. You’d tried to lessen the blow for yourself, by justifying your questioning. It rang hollow even to your ears. “You’re right I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking then. Anyway, she’s like fifteen weeks along. I would’ve thought she’d be showing by then or something.”

 “Usually happens around like twelve or sixteen weeks on a first pregnancy. Everyone’s different though” Your quizzical expression had him following up that statement. “What, my sister just had a baby, I know some shit.”

 “Well then you’re gonna teach me. I came home last night and ordered a bunch of books on Amazon.” Admittedly you might have gotten carried away downloading them all; there was, Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies, Pregnancy: Put Yourself in her Shoes, We’re Pregnant, and Everything You Wanted To Know About Pregnancy But Were Too Afraid or Embarrassed to Ask. It was a little overwhelming, but you needed to prepare yourself. “I’m kind of at a loss on where to start.”

 Clapping you on the back, giving your shoulder a squeeze; Jamie encouraged you. “You’re gonna do great Seggy. I know my brother-in-law felt the same way, and now he’s a pro with my niece.”

 “Yeah, I hope I even get the chance. I need to get all this shit with (Y/N) figured out before the baby comes. Any ideas on how I can make that happen?”

 “Hmmm, I don’t know man. It needs to be big though. Like fucking fall on your knees beg for forgiveness type of shit.”

 “Thanks Captain Obvious. I know that already. I’ve already got flowers being delivered to her office on Monday, since I have no clue where she’s living at the moment.”

 “You need a god damn flower wall, not just a bouquet.” Jamie was right, you needed to think bigger. Something that said ‘I love you, I’m never leaving you, as well as I’ll never fucking cheat on you again, not even in a million years. That you couldn’t really buy a gift like that at the nearest mall, wasn’t lost on you. It needed to be something that showed her you were working towards your future together; moving on from past mistakes.

  Then like a light switch turning on a lamp; it hit you. “I got it!” excitement sounding in your voice. “A few weeks ago the realtor called. That house I’ve always wanted was coming on the market. (Y/N) and I have ridden past it a million times. We talked about buying it one day or building something like it. It has the perfect backyard for the dogs and kids. I’m gonna buy it, and give it to her. That is if it’s still for sale.” Getting the call weeks ago, you had dismissed the idea. That was your dream home, the place where you wanted to make your life with (Y/N); without her, at the time you just couldn’t even see contemplating it. Now, it was the perfect plan to show her where you wanted your lives to go.

 “I don’t know Segs. That seems a little….extreme.” You wouldn’t let Jamie’s reluctance sway you. “I was thinking more along the lines of like, couples’ therapy.”

 Flashing Jamie, a distasteful look, you grabbed your phone dialing the realtor’s number. A few quick questions and you set up a time tomorrow evening to view the home with (Y/N). Hanging up you gave Chubbs a pleased look. “This is gonna work man. I just feel it.”

 Continuing to shake his head at your strategy, Jamie got up to leave. “Look, I’m gonna head home and grab a nap before the game tonight. Just give it a little more thought before you follow this through. Would you Seggy?”

 “You just don’t get the beauty of it yet, Chubbs. Just wait you’ll see. I’ll talk to you tonight.” Walking him to the door, you glanced at your watch; (Y/N) should’ve called by now. Wordlessly you sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t back out. Throwing yourself on the couch, you watched time slowly tick by minute by painstaking minute. You let your mind drift to a time in the near future; you and (Y/N) walking into your new home, carrying a small little bundle in a car carrier. (Y/N) looked gorgeous as always, glancing down at the carrier you checked in on your new born; trying to determine if it was a boy or a girl. The ring on your phone brought you back from your imaginings. (Y/N)’s face appeared on the screen and you smiled to your empty living room.

 “Hey, babe.” It was an easy term of endearment that fell off your lips, after all the time the two of you had spent together.

 “Hey Ty. How was your morning skate?”

 This easy routine conversation felt like a million that you’d had before with her; one that you would have every time you were on the road. It was nice to feel some normalcy again. “Really great. I feel like tonight is going to be a good night for me, ya know.” You meant all those words, after practice you just had a renewed sense about the game.

 “That’s great Tyler. I’m glad you’re feeling better about hockey at least.”

 “I’m feeling better about a lot of things.” Unsaid words hung in the air. There was a long pause, as if she didn’t know what to say next and so to fill the void you added. “You wouldn’t want to come tonight, would you?”

 “Ummmm…I….Ummm…”you frowned knowing the answer she was trying to spit out; your brain already trying to work on a response. “I just don’t think I’d feel comfortable doing that yet Ty.”

 “Yeah sure, I completely understand. Plus, it’ll be noisy and loud, probably not good for the baby.” She laughed at that; the sound, music to your ears.

 “I think the baby can probably handle it, it’s got a lot surrounding it in there.”

 “Oh well, yeah…you’re probably right. Are you feeling ok today?” You hadn’t had a chance to discuss all the particulars with her; however, you’d read quickly last night that most morning sickness is over in the second trimester, which is where (Y/N) was at right now.

 “Yeah, baby and I are having a good morning.” You could almost hear the smile in her voice.

 “That’s great hun. You know we haven’t talked a lot about things, I mean where the baby’s concerned. I realized that when I was talking to Jamie.”

 Screaming into the phone at you, she yelled, “You told Jamie I’m pregnant!?!”

 Clearly this was another obvious mistake on your part; this was not the direction you wanted the conversation to go. You’d had enough screaming and yelling last night. “Um…Yeah. I didn’t think it’s that big of deal. I mean your friends know right?”

 “No Tyler, I haven’t fucking told a sole.” This said in a much softer voice. You hadn’t really given any real credence to her not telling anyone; automatically assuming her friends had this knowledge. After all they were the ones who had taken her to the doctor’s office in the first place.

 “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just thought…well since they took you and all.” It was yet another apology you were having to make to her.

 “No…It’s fine. I should’ve said something last night. I’m sorry I yelled.” Her regret at least showed you were making some headway.

 “Babe, why haven’t you told anyone?” It was a small question and one you wanted answered. Waking up this morning you were bubbling with excitement about the news, wanting to share it. That she had kept this secret from all those she loved for three weeks, was almost unfathomable.

 A long pause prefaced her answer. “I…Ummm…I don’t know Ty. I’m scared.” The last part barely a whisper.

 You knew that giving birth could be a scary time for a woman; hell, you had a feeling that when the time came, you would never know fear like you would in that moment. Already the baby and (Y/N) meant so much to you, and you hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours. Reassuring her, you spoke. “I know it can be scary hun, but we’ll get through this, together.”

 “I think that’s what I’m scared about Ty, the together part. Like I just don’t know.” Couldn’t she realize the life the three of you would have; correction six with the dogs. It would be almost out of a storybook. Lazy summer Sundays at the lake, where you’re laying in the grass, the baby between you. Taking them home after a victory. Hell, you’d already had a crystal-clear image of more kids to come. Knowing your sins of the past, weren’t quite forgiven yet, wasn’t an obstacle you would let get in the way of all that.

 “(Y/N), I know we have a long road ahead of us, but you’ve got to know; no got to believe, we are going to get through this. I promise you.” It was a promise you would continue to make, until she knew it deep in her bones.

 “I wish I could be as certain as you.”

 “We’ll get there, babe. You’ll see.” Silence ensued after that comment, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Your arms ached wanting to hold this woman in them right now and just reassure her. After a moment, you steered the conversation elsewhere. “So, I was kind of hoping that maybe tomorrow after work we could spend some time together. I’ve got something I need to show you.”

 Grateful for the change, she answered, “Really, what’s that?”

 “Oh no, you’re not going to ruin the surprise. You’ve just got to wait and see. So, can I pick you up about seven?”

Finally relenting with a, “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you my new address.”

 It was a step you didn’t think she would take, that she did, had your heart soaring. “Excellent!”

 “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The appointment on Tuesday is at four in the afternoon. Did you want to meet me there or go together?”

 Was this really a question, you could only imagine the stares, you would receive walking in to an OB/GYN office by yourself. “Honestly, I’d feel a bit weird walking in there by myself. Could I pick you up at the office or wherever you’re going to be and we’ll go together?”

 The light chuckle she gave, told you she already knew your reply. “I had a feeling. And yes, I’ll probably be at work; so, if you wouldn’t mind coming there, that would be great.” Plans made for the next few days, your adrenaline was pumping; knowing that you’d get to see her two days in a row. “I should probably let you get a nap; you’ve got a big game.”

 Frowning, time was always too short with her. You longed for those days when she would be around constantly; sharing naps with you. Sighing, you knew that time would come soon enough. “Yeah, I probably should. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, maybe we could grab something to eat too. Gotta keep you two healthy.” It was also an ulterior motive to be around her longer.

 “Sounds good. Have a good game Ty.”

 “Thanks, babe. I love you.” The last part automatically coming out of your mouth, but the words were always true. Silently you willed her to say them back.

 “Me too.” It wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but then again, she didn’t hang up on you either. Laying the phone down on the table; you focused on what tomorrow would bring, closing your eyes, dreaming of all the possibilities that your future held with (Y/N) by your side.

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 21 | Morgan Rielly

A/N:  Y’all deserve this one.  I’ll be at church cleansing my sins if you need me.  

Briony never got to give out Valentine’s Day cards at school because she could never afford them.  She’d get them from her fellow students, decorated with superheroes or puppies or whatever else was popular at the time, usually with a heart-shaped chocolate or a Hershey’s Kiss, but she was never able to give any out.  That was why, given the opportunity, she went out and bought really corny Valentine’s Day cards, the fold up ones that came in packs of 30, wrote one to Morgan for each day of his road trip, and hid them in his suitcase for the 13-day tour of Montreal, New York, Colorado, Las Vegas, Arizona, and St. Louis.  Bee was a bit bummed that she wasn’t able to spend time with Morgan on their first Valentine’s Day together, but there wasn’t exactly anything she could do about it.  

Instead, she was focused on the training she was completing for her new job.  The day after her interview, Mark Travers had called her back.  “Can you come back to my office?” he had asked.  Morgan was at morning practice, so she high-tailed it in an Uber.  When she got there, he sat her down in the same chair she sat in for the interview.  “What are your salary expectations?”  “There will be performance bonuses if you accept and do well.”  “We’re not going with the candidate from Montreal.  I would love for you to be part of our team.”  It was all very surreal, and of course, she accepted the job.  She was a junior financial analyst at Scotiabank.  Her hard work paid off in the best way possible.  Yes, she had a boyfriend, the best boyfriend in the world – but now, she had a job.  She had a career.  She had everything she had ever wanted.

Morgan was, of course, over the moon when she told him.  So over the moon, in fact, that the Leafs won their next two games against Anaheim and Ottawa.  She was able to go to both games after her training, just a short walk to the ACC from Scotia Plaza.  He asked so many questions and was so interested in everything she would be doing.  He was like a little kid in a candy store.  He wouldn’t shut up about it.  He told his teammates.  He told the wives and girlfriends (as if she hadn’t already).  He told Mike Babcock because, well, he just happened to be listening at the time.  He told the Uber Eats delivery man when he dropped off their food that night, a celebratory feast on Indian food.  He’d tell a park bench if it listened.  

But, like always, then he had to leave.  A thirteen day road trip for the team.  He cursed the fact that after all these big events, he always had to leave, and they could never properly celebrate.  They couldn’t even properly celebrate their first Valentine’s Day, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.  There wasn’t exactly anything any of the other wives or girlfriends could do about it, so instead of wallowing in self-pity, Alannah had organized a “Galentine’s Day” night over at hers and Zach’s place.  The boys were facing the Vegas Golden Knights tonight, and the girls could at least watch the game together while eating junk food and sipping on mimosas and mocktails rather than spend the night alone.  

Until then, Bee found herself with Aryne, who was apparently feeling particularly stir-crazy.  There was a week of paid training before Bee assumed her full responsibilities, and in the time, Aryne made it her personal goal to meet with Bee everyday for lunch so they could check out places to eat in the financial district.  Today, they were at the Cactus Club, an import from western Canada that just opened a few blocks north of the Scotia Plaza.  Aryne had ordered them both a tuna poke bowl and non-alcoholic Valentine’s Day-themed drinks.  

They had been talking for a while, discussing who was going to be at Alannah’s place that night and what time Aryne would pick Bee up, when suddenly a shrill voice was heard from across the restaurant screaming, “Ohmigod, Aryne is that you?!”  Aryne and Bee both looked to their left, and Bee saw a beach blonde running over to them with a giant smile on her face.  

“Oh Lord,” Aryne mused under her breath as she smiled at the woman making a beeline.  

“Who’s that?” Bee asked, but it was too late.  The woman had approached their table and Aryne was smiling politely at her.

“So nice to see you here!” the woman said, bending down and giving Aryne a hug, who didn’t bother getting up from her seat.  “I can’t believe I ran into you here of all places.  What are you doing here?”

“I’m having lunch with my friend,” Aryne said.  Why else would she be in a restaurant with another person sitting across from her?  “Bee, this is Sydney.  Sydney this is Bee McTa--”

“So you’re Bee?” she said slyly, not bothering to offer her hand for a polite shake.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“From who?” Bee asked.

“From Instagram,” Sydney said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  Bee got worried the second she mentioned it.  She didn’t even know who this Sydney was – why did she knew who Bee was?  What had she seen on Instagram that made her feel like she already knew who Bee was?  “I just love that Chanel bag that Morgan got you.”

“What have you been up to, Sydney?” Aryne intervened the split second she saw Bee’s eyebrows furrow.  “What brings you back to Toronto?”

“Well, I had my dress fitting at Kleinfeld today.  Jessica had a working lunch so I thought I’d come to Cactus Club and see what the food’s like,” she explained.  Bee had no idea who Jessica was and she wasn’t inclined in the slightest to ask.

“Jessica who?  Mulroney?” Aryne asked.

“Of course, Aryne.  Who else?” Sydney smiled.  “Anyway, the second dress was already ordered in Southampton so we’re waiting for that to come in for alterations as well.  Then there’s the veil and the flower wall and just, like, so many other things.”

“Should’ve eloped,” Aryne winked.

“Boomer wouldn’t want that,” she giggled, turning her attention back to Bee.  “You must know my fiancé Matt?  Or my father Boomer Esiason?”

Bee didn’t understand.  Did Sydney just ‘my father’ her a la Meghan McCain?  Was she just name-dropping people in the hopes that Bee would recognize who she was?  Why would she want anyone to recognize her?  Bee shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

��My fiancé is Matt Martin.  He plays for the Islanders.  He was on the Leafs last year,” her tone was light but she spoke in short sentences, talking to Bee like she was an idiot.  “Do you not know about hockey?”

“Not a lot, actually,” Bee tried to keep her voice as cordial as possible.  She could see Aryne trying to suppress a smirk.  “I’m usually too busy with work to learn about other teams, so I just stick to the Leafs.”

“Oh…” Sydney was taken aback by Bee’s answer, by Bee’s lack of interest in who she was, in Bee’s lack of caring about anything to do with her.  

“Bee’s a financial analyst with Scotiabank,” Aryne informed Sydney.

“And Morgan’s okay with that?”

A shiver ran up Bee’s spine.  “Why wouldn’t he be okay with that?”

“Morgan earns more than enough money for the both of you.  All the hockey players I know would love to have their girlfriends at home with them to help with the hockey schedule.  You know how boys are so dependent,” she tried to turn it into a joke.  “They can be so useless sometimes.”

Maybe her boy was dependent, but Morgan could get by on his own.  Bee didn’t like the insinuation that he was the only one that mattered in the relationship and that her needs took second place to his.  That’s not the way she lived her life, ever, and that’s not the way she and Morgan acted in their relationship.  “Morgan loves that I have my own career,” Bee said definitively, taking a sip of water to prevent her from saying anything else she might regret.

Sydney smiled politely.  “Well, I won’t keep you two much longer,” she gave a half smile to Bee before focusing on Aryne.  “Look for the invitation to come late May.  It’s going to be in Southampton.  We’ll provide hotel details.”

“Good luck with the rest of the planning,” Aryne smiled before Sydney walked away, readjusting a Prada bag on her shoulder.  Aryne looked back at Bee and gave her a look.  “Sorry about that.  I thought we’d be safe here.”

“Is she always like that?  Namedropping Jessicas and Boomers and who her husband is?” Bee asked.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Aryne rolled her eyes slightly.  “Her dad was a pro football player and now she’s getting married to Matt.  He played for the Islanders with John, then played in Toronto for two years, but now he’s back on the island.  She’s really close with Steph.”

Bee tried not to roll her eyes.  She didn’t like those types of people – those that would namedrop to get what they want or so they could let you know who they were.  It actually did say a lot about who they were, and to Bee, it wasn’t that good.  She didn’t even like it when Morgan did it all those months ago at Cibo.  “What did she mean she saw me on Instagram?” Bee asked.

“Well obviously we’ve been uploading pictures and stuff,” Aryne said, taking her phone out of her purse.  “But then there’s like, the fanpages or whatever.  She stalks them a bit to see what they say about her and Matt.”

“The what?”

“The fanpages.  You know, like the girls who somehow get a hold of our pictures and then post them on their accounts?” she phrased it as more of a question.  When she saw the confused look on Bee’s face, she shook her head.  “Oh come on Bee.  You have to know about them.”

“I know about the girls who send me messages telling me I’m fat and Morgan’s my sugardaddy,” she said bluntly.  Aryne knew about them too.  They laughed about them together.  “I don’t know about these so called fan-pages.  How do they get the pictures if our profiles are private?”

“Oh, they find their ways,” Aryne typed something into her phone and swiped through a few screens.  “It’s nothing horrible.  They literally just post pictures.  But…yeah.  Here’s you,” she said, showing Bee her phone over the table.

Bee took Aryne’s phone in her hands and swiped through the post from @theladyleafsoftoronto: ten pictures stolen from her Instagram account, from Ashley’s Instagram, and even from Lucy’s private one somehow.  Group shots of her with the girls.  None of her and Morgan together, thankfully, because those were few and far in between.  She had just posted her first one, series of photos of them together in Vancouver, after they got back from their trip.  She’d cleared her Instagram like Angie told her to, and she hoped they wouldn’t get out.

“Check out at NHL wives and girlfriends,” Aryne said the name of another account before she stuffed her face with contents of her poke bowl.  “Those girls should work for CSIS.”

Bee punched the handle into the search bar and immediately saw the account.  She didn’t have to scroll far to see the two different posts, each with another series of photos and videos of her.  Twenty total.  They had screengrabbed Instagram stories of her and Morgan kissing from Auston’s New Years Eve party and others, Boomerangs from Halloween in their costumes, and even went so far as to include one of the oldest pictures of herself she had posted to Instagram.  They were crazy.  And somehow – yup, of course, of-fucking-course – the series of photos of her and Morgan together from Vancouver were on there.  She didn’t even want to know how they got there.

“Wait…” Bee said as she noticed one specific picture.  Their backs were to the camera and they were standing on the seawall on Kitsilano Beach, where Andy brought them when they landed in Vancouver.  “That’s…that’s not…”

“What’s wrong?”

“One of these is Shirley’s picture,” she said.  “Shirley…she only posts to Facebook.  You mean to tell me they stalk her Facebook?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Aryne shrugged her shoulders.  “I told you.  They should work for CSIS.  They could get information on anyone.  Hell, if you didn’t even have an online presence they’d still find you.”

It was at that point, staring at the candid picture Shirley had taken of them in Vancouver, that Bee realized there was nothing she or Morgan could do about it.  Absolutely nothing.  They could switch on every privacy button they could, they could refuse to post – none of it mattered.  It would still end up somewhere.  It would still end up on an Instagram profile with almost 10,000 followers and fifty comments on the post.  It was completely out of their control.

So why bother?

“Jesus,” Bee shivered slightly, and it wasn’t because of the cold outside.  She handed Aryne’s phone back to her.  “I didn’t know…I mean, these girls must have a lot of time on their hands.”

“I know it’s a lot, but it’s not a big deal.  It happens to us all.  They all find it somehow.  The more you come to just accept that it’s gonna happen, the less freaked out you get when it does happen,” Aryne explained.  “The fact that you don’t care what they say helps, too.  Yours and Morgan’s relationship is strong and you’re better than what they say about you.  Other girls aren’t as strong as you.”

***

Bee had received a text with a picture of every Valentine Morgan found on his 13 day road trip followed by a heart and a message of “I can’t wait to see you”.  Now that he was finally on his way home, Bee sent him a text back: “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

She was restless.  All she wanted was him with her, beneath her, above her, beside her, behind her – she didn’t fucking care at this point.  She wanted touch him and to feel him so desperately she was willing to jump his bones the second he got in the door.  Hell, she’d meet him down in the parking garage if it meant getting her hands on him.  But with the last ounce of self-restraint she had, she put on her blush coloured baby doll lingerie set and waited for him on the bed.  

Even as she heard the door open and shut, she stayed in her position.  “Bumblebee?” Morgan called out, the sound of his bag hitting the floor loud in the quietness of the apartment.

“In here!”

She heard his footsteps make their way to the bedroom.  When he opened the door, he was greeted with her, sitting on the bed on her knees in her lingerie.  He stopped for a moment, taking in the scene before him.  “Well well well…happy belated Valentine’s Day to me,” he hummed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day baby,” she smiled, noticing he had something in his hand.  “What’s that?”

“Your valentines,” he said.  “Wanted to give you a kiss for every one you left me, but it seems like you have other plans in mind,” he licked his lips.  “I’ve never seen this before.”

“I was keeping it a secret.”

“Oh were you,” he sauntered over to her, making a come hither motion with his finger.  She moved towards the edge of the bed where he was standing, slipping her arms around his neck.  “I mean it.  Thirteen kisses,” he mumbled, grabbing hold of the flesh at her hips before giving her the first kiss.  “I love the pink,” he mumbled.

“I knew you would,” she said, biting his bottom lip.  “God, I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too, Briony.  But I’m home now.”

She kissed him again, unable to wait any longer.  They definitely gave each other more than thirteen kisses as they made out, but she wasn’t exactly complaining.  Morgan’s hands on her flesh were intoxicating and all she wanted to feel.  She wasted no time in ridding him of his clothes.  He moved quickly to put the valentines on the dresser so he wouldn’t lose them.  

“Lie on the bed,” she directed him when he came back.

“What?”

“I said lie on the bed,” she repeated as she made way for him to do just that.

“What are you --”

“Can you stop asking questions and just lie on the bed!” she giggled, pulling him down so he had no choice.  Crawling in between his legs, she couldn’t help but smile as he put his hands behind his head to view her.  She grabbed a pillow for him so he could use it in place of his hands.  She needed his hands for this.  “Did your cock miss me?”

“Mmmm, you have no idea,” he said, his voice low.  

She helped him out of his boxer-briefs and scratched her nails teasingly down his thighs.  When she finally grabbed hold of his cock, she smiled before kissing the head gently.  Morgan bit down on his lip as he looked at her.  “C’mon baby.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head, a devilish smile on her face.  “Nice and slow.”

He glared at her momentarily.  “Excuse me?”

“Nice and slow,” she repeated, her eyes flashing with revenge.  “I can tease too, you know.”

“What are you – wha…” he didn’t understand what she was trying to say, but then it hit him.  This was payback.  ‘Nice and slow’ was payback for their little impromptu rendezvous before Auston’s New Year’s Eve party, where he’d teased her so achingly slow with his fingers.  “Baby, please --”

“No,” she said definitively, licking the underside of his cock, but pulling away right after.  “Nice.  And.  Slow.”

He let out an exasperated sigh.  He knew he was going to pay for that one day.

 True to word, miraculously, she worked on his cock slow and steady, making sure to take her time with the foreplay and use all of her tricks that she knew would drive him wild: the moaning, the dirty talk, even the simple act of catching his eye while his cock was in her mouth and rolling them to the back of her head in pleasure.  His body felt like it was a thousand degrees as she worked her magic.  

When she began to take him deeper into her mouth and throat, he made sure to gather her hair in his hand as he guided her up and down his shaft.  Like always, his eyes rolled back when she would gag slightly, but because she was taking this all nice and slow, everything seemed heightened.  She was thoroughly enjoying herself and taking her time, and by her actions he knew she wasn’t forcing herself to do anything she was uncomfortable doing.  

“Feeling good, baby?” she asked quickly before taking him into her mouth again.

He grunted in appreciation, tightening his grip on her hair slightly.  “You’re so fucking good.”

She moaned a little before she sucked him from base to tip, ending with a pop.  “I wanna taste you baby.”

His breathing was hot and heavy.  “W-What?” he stuttered out.

“I want you to cum down my throat baby.  I want to taste you,” she cooed.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he moaned out, but before he could say anything else, she took him deep in her throat quickly, gagging, and he actively had to think about something else to prevent him from exploding right then and there.  He caught her eye as she looked up at him.  “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

She giggled.  “Good,” she said before continuing her actions.

True to his word, it wasn’t long before he began to lose control.  He tightened his grip on her hair one last time before he rocked his hips so he could push himself even deeper into her throat.  After one last moan and one last gag, she felt him shoot his hot load into her throat.  His breathing was erratic, his sighs more high-pitched than normal, and Bee let out a satisfied sound as she swallowed every bit of him.  

She continued sucking until she felt him get soft, ending with another pop and another devilish grin on her face.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Morgan.”

“Hap…Hap…” he tried to speak, but he couldn’t.  He couldn’t even think straight.  “I can’t…I can’t…” he repeated, worried, still on a high.  He didn’t know what to do.  He couldn’t move, but he knew the night couldn’t end here.  No way.  He never wanted to not make her come, especially for Valentine���s Day celebration, but after doing so himself, like that, he didn’t know how long he’d have to take to recuperate.  Needless to say, he didn’t exactly want to wait either.  

“C’mon Morgan,” she whispered, her voice breathy and low, her lips grazing against his ear.  

His brain was fucking mush.  He wasn’t even sure where he was to be honest.  “I…I…” he tried to formulate a coherent thought, completely spent and still trying to catch his breath.

“C’mon baby.  I’m all dressed up,” she taunted him.

He watched her as she slipped her hand underneath her panties and began to touch herself.  He regained enough semblance of a conscience to realize he didn’t want her to be doing that.  He wanted to be the one.  “Stop,” he said as firmly as he could.  

She did as she was told.  She looked at him and a small smile crept onto her lips.  “How do you want me?” she asked.  

Just by the way she phrased it he was ready to explode again right then and there.  “Get on your knees,” he said, and she followed instructions, lying back on her knees to face him.  “Other way,” he directed, watching the surprise spread across her face as she did what she was told yet again.  

Finally regaining enough consciousness, he got on his knees too, getting behind her so her back was flush with his chest.  He wrapped his left arm around her slowly, making sure his fingers grazed her skin underneath the material of the babydoll.  His right hand was already playing with the lacy material of her underwear.  He kissed his way along her shoulder and up her neck until he got to her ear.  “You trust me?” he asked.

Bee nodded her head.  “I trust you.”

He gave her another tender kiss on her neck, his right hand already reaching over and slipping into the front of her panties to tease her hot core.  She jumped at his touch, knowing what he was about to do.  “I’m gonna start with one,” he whispered in her ear.

“Two.”

A shiver went up his spine.  “Two?”

She nodded her head.  “I want it so bad.”

He sighed contently, chuckling to himself at the desperation in her voice.  He began teasing her with two fingers, playing with her slick folds and rubbing circles on her clit as he continued to kiss and bite the skin along her neck and shoulders, definitely leaving marks.  He could feel her getting wetter with each passing moment and, lacking all self-control, he didn’t wait to push his fingers inside of her.  

She moaned at the action, grinding her hips against his hand as much as possible.  She snaked her hand along Morgan’s arm that wrapped around her body and intertwined her fingers with his.  “Fuck, Mo.”

“Feel good?” he bit down on her neck.

Bee could only nod her head as he curled his fingers in her, hitting the spot that made her shake in pleasure.  “Feels so fucking good,” she managed to breathe out.

His kisses were a mix of tender and hungry; his bites both loving and heated.  He bit his way back up to her ear.  “Are you gonna be a good girl for me Briony?” he asked.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes.  “Yes.”

“Are you gonna take more?”

“Yes.  Yes,” she said, desperate, grinding her hips again.  “Please Mo.  I want more.”

He slipped another finger in, now three fingers deep in her.  Bee shouted out slightly at the sensation, adjusting to the new feeling as much as she could before her body began reacting before her brain could.  A warm shiver went up her spine and she leaned back into Morgan, his chest slick with sweat.  “You okay?” he asked quickly.

“Go harder, Morgan.”

Was it possible to self-combust?  Because between the blowjob and this, he was sure he was going to spontaneously self-combust right then and there on the bed.  She knew just the right tone to use in her voice when she begged to drive him wild.  “You’re fucking desperate, aren’t you?”

“Please Morgan,” she begged again, bringing her free hand up to yank at his hair, pulling him so she could give him a sloppy kiss.  

His fingers continued to curl inside her and she moaned out in pleasure.  This time, he tightened the grip his arm had around her body, limiting her movement so she couldn’t grind against his hand as much.  He knew how much she liked when he held her hips down while he ate her out, making sure the responsibility of her pleasure was in his hands the most, and he figured she’d enjoy it just as much in this situation too.  A whine escaped her as she realized what he was doing; despite her best effort, she wasn’t able to grind down as much.  “Harder,” she panted out.

Losing any semblance of restraint he had left, he began pumping his three fingers in and out of her quickly, much to her wish and indulgence.  Her moans were loud and desperate, long and throaty, while, by some miracle, he was still rubbing against her clit and he was still kissing and biting down on the sensitive skin on her neck.  It was all too much for her – the different sensations in different places – and her body became hot and she could feel her orgasm already building as Morgan continued to work.  “Morgaaaaaaannnnn,” she elongated his name, pleading with him to continue exactly what he was doing.  

“You like that, huh,” he mumbled against her skin, making her nod her head.  “You’re so fucking desperate for me to fuck you like this.”

“Morgan, please,” she didn’t know what else to say.  She knew it was all she was saying but she could barely form a coherent thought.  This was so unlike anything they’d ever done; although he had fingered her before, it was never like this.  It was never this hot and this steamy and this raw.  She was so close she felt like she was going to explode already.  “I’m so close.”

“Then make a fucking mess, Briony.”

That’s it.  She’s lost it.  She cried out loudly, repeating his name over and over again as he curled his fingers in her one last time, making sure it lasted as long as it could as she collapsed against his body, her head leaning back onto his shoulder.  Her legs felt like jelly and her hair stuck against his skin.  

His fingers were still in her and her thighs were wet as he gave her a tender kiss.  “You’re such a good girl for me.  Always such a good girl,” he whispered.

“Again.”

He stopped momentarily.  He wasn’t expecting to hear that.  “What?”

“More.  And again.”

The shock was written all over his face, but she couldn’t see because between not facing him and her eyes rolling to the back of her head, she couldn’t see much of anything.  “I…you want more?” he clarified.

“Keep going,” she nodded her head.  “I want more.  Keep going until I can’t scream anymore.”

In a snap second he realized what she was asking him to do.  “Are you sure?” he asked one more time.

“Positive.  Go wild, baby.”

He practically growled at her request, tightening his grip around her once more and starting to move his fingers in and out of her again.  “You gonna take it all like a good girl?”

“Like your good girl.”

“Mmmmm, that’s right.  You’re my good girl,” he licked at her jawline.  “You ready?”

Bee nodded her head.  She whimpered when he curled his fingers and began pounding them into her even harder than before.  She felt so warm and wet and the sounds they were making, the moaning and the screaming and the panting, the squelching of her wetness against his hands, it was all so hot and heavy and neither Morgan nor Bee could get enough.  “Mooorrrrgaaannnnn, fuck you’re so good baby,” she cried out.

“You want to come again, Briony?  So desperate for me to make you come again?” he tormented her.

“Yes baby.  Over and over.”

“Over and over till you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Yes!” she screamed out, apparently loving the idea.  “Yes baby.  Because of you.  Only you get to do this to my pussy.”

“You gonna make another mess?”

“Yes.  Yes Morgan.  Always.”

“You gonna come for me?”

“Only for you baby,” she turned her head as much as possible to kiss him.  “Don’t stop, baby.  Keep going until I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

Morgan did just that.  Over and over Bee cried out, losing control, screaming, panting, her body being shattered as waves of pleasure continually washed over her, non-stop, especially after Morgan slipped a fourth finger into her, stretching her completely and filling her like she hadn’t been filled before.  Her body felt like it was on fire as Morgan held her up in his arm, but the constant state of orgasm and the more overstimulation she felt, the more her body began to feel like it was going to collapse onto the bed at any given moment.  

The longer they went, the more orgasms she had, and the longer they went, the more Morgan recovered and began to feel hard again.  He didn’t even know how long they’d been going for, but because of the overstimulation, his non-stop movements, and the fact that Bee hadn’t been silent since they started, he also wasn’t truly sure how many orgasms she’d had.  “How many?”

She didn’t answer at first.  She couldn’t answer.  She was so wrecked she didn’t know words were a thing she could use.  “How many, Briony?” Morgan repeated.

“I d’know,” she let out quickly.  

“You wanted this baby.  How many?” he demanded an answer from her.  

“I don’t…I don’t know,” her moans were broken, her skin shining from the sweat.  “It’s so much.”  A rose flush had taken over her body.  His fingers hadn’t stopped.  She was too concentrated on the feeling; the feeling of pleasure but also the feeling of being completely lost to another person, her pleasure in his control, and feeling one hundred percent safe about it.  

“C’mon baby, you can keep going,” he encouraged her.  

“Morgan,” she cried out, so hot and so wet and so…so willing to keep going.

“C’mon, you can do it again, huh?  Like a good girl?  Like my good girl?”  His voice was soft instead of demanding, filled with love instead of forcing her to do something.  

“Y…Yes,” she panted out.  All she knew was that she was close, she was so close, but she wasn’t done yet.  It was a lot, almost too much, definitely more than she had ever felt before, but she wanted to keep going.  

“That’s my good girl,” Morgan cooed as he placed a kiss on her temple.  “I’m almost ready, okay?  But you’re being such a good girl.”

“Fuck me when you’re ready,” her voice was hoarse and strained.  

“Don’t worry baby.  I’ll fill you up like I always do.  Stretch that pretty pussy how you like it.”

“Mmmmmmm fuck, keep going Morgan.  Keep going,” she whimpered.  

“C’mon baby, you can take it.  You can take it,” Morgan hummed as he began moving his fingers inside her again.  She was so sensitive that any movement sent her over the edge quickly.  She cried out his name over and over, his fingers and her thighs absolutely fucking soaked, and it wasn’t long before he felt her walls clench around his fingers again, and again, and again.  

Finally, finally, the arm keeping her up loosened, his hand going to his cock to stroke himself and get him as hard as he could.  She immediately collapsed down, hitting the sheets as he teased at her entrance.  It wasn’t long before he pulled her by her hair, slick with the sweat from their bodies, and brought her back to be flush with his chest.  “Are you okay baby?” he asked.  She barely nodded her head.  “One more?”

She closed her eyes, another barely there nod.  “I need your cock deep inside me.”

He entered her in one quick go, gasping at how fucking wet she was and how fucking easy it was to slide in to her aching, hot pussy as she collapsed on the bed again, ass up in the air for him.  He knew he wasn’t going to last long, his hard thrusts burying his cock deep inside of her.  She screamed and moaned and whimpered over every movement, practically sobbing at the feeling of feeling completely and absolutely wrecked by Morgan.  When she felt his hot cum squirt inside her, one last orgasm – after way too many to count – ripped through her body, sending her into one last rush of pleasure before Morgan collapsed on top of her body, cock softening inside her but refusing to pull out.

It was a long time before they came back down to earth.  Bee’s heart was threatening beat right out of her chest, the overstimulation still running rampant through her, especially since Morgan’s cock was still inside her.  She took some deep breaths to try and calm herself.  When Morgan’s arm wrapped around her and he shifted their bodies slightly so he was spooning her, he placed tender kisses along her shoulder, now absolutely ravaged with red hickeys and bite marks, and she felt her heartbeat slow down a bit.

“You okay, baby?” he whispered.

At first, she could only nod her head.  Her throat was so dry it hurt to speak.  She wondered if she would have a voice tomorrow.  “I’m okay.”

“You did so good baby.  You were so good for me,” he cooed, giving her another tender kiss.  “Always such a good girl.”

She couldn’t get enough of him calling her his good girl.  She knew she was always good for him, to him, but he was good to her and for her, too.  She twisted her body so she could somewhat see him yet still keep his cock inside her.  She was absolutely spent, just absolutely destroyed, but she wanted to see the face of the man who made her feel this way; the face of the man who indulged her every want but always kept her needs in mind.  “Thank you, baby,” she whispered.  She wouldn’t have been confident doing this with anybody else, and for that, she was truly thankful.  She could completely lose herself to him and know she would be safe.  She knew he would explore this with her but always keep her in control.  

“Thank you, baby,” he kissed her.  “I love you so much.  I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.  No, you didn’t hurt me.  It was better than what I wanted.  I love you too.”

“You wanna clean u--”

“No,” Bee said as he began to move.  Her desperate hand on his skin stopped his movements.  She knew it probably wasn’t the best decision but she didn’t care.  “I don’t care right now.  Just stay here with me.”

Morgan nestled back into her, arm draping over her body as he pulled her close against his chest, their bodies still slick with sweat.  She’d kill him once she realized what her shoulders and neck looked like, but for now, all he could do was kiss the skin peppered with love bites until they both drifted off to sleep.

[saint-patrice]

torey krug for @bigbruinsenergy !

life:made 😎 nah fr, thank you for this request my friend!! i was very excited to do one for torey, he’s quite the character and i love him A Lot

Note: a few people have said they like these posts, so i’m happy to take requests if there’s a particular player you’d like to see! see this page (i don’t think it works on mobile because tumblr is a burning shitpile, sorry) for details, and a list of ones i’ve done so far :) i have quite a few requests rn, but feel free to keep em coming!

he may be short, but he is powerful!! or in the words of the bruins’ twitter account, “torey krug: angry”. an unforgettable moment from this season, torey was really living every bruins fan’s dream of completely and aggressively flattening a blues player in this moment. and i salute him for it

here he is, in all his glory, laughing his ass off at the entire new jersey bench. he’s honestly such a little bastard and that’s precisely why i love him. he’s full of love for his teammates and nothing but spite for everyone else. it’s very sexy of him, really 

baby krug!!!! isn’t she just the cutest, she’s so tiny 😭 the baby pictures have been just about the only thing making offseason bearable thus far

it must be a cruel god we have for him to put a 5′9 man (or 3 of them...) on a team with someone an entire foot taller than him. but it makes for great content so honestly, who’s complaining. this has the precise energy of a young girl playing dress-up with her mom’s clothes. it’s undeniable

the effort he has to go to... oh my god. he truly is a short king

i know brad and torey are always at each other’s throats on twitter but this... this is straight up murder, holy shit. “we just use your tongue to resurface the ice” - even i felt that. is brad okay?? i mean these tweets are old but still, that’s gotta leave a lasting wound on a man’s psyche. let it be known that torey krug takes no prisoners

just a father, lovingly cradling his tiny son

look at this dapper man!! while i very much appreciate the ‘peaky bruins’ winter classic outfits, some of them look kinda odd (please see: zdeno chara, 19th century plague doctor). but i think kreauty’s is really nice!! a good all-grey look, with that red tie to brigten it up. and i think his shirt is pale blue rather than white?? i like it. he suits the cap too. looks like a man i’d buy a new fountain pen and perhaps a pocket watch from

(gif via @pavszacha​) pray tell, why do we have the prettiest team? and what colour are his eyes?? green? brown? grey? who knows, but i love them a lot

he’s wearing brad’s stuff.

i would like to draw your attention to the shirt torey is wearing. no, you are not hallucinating. yes, his shirt says “mcavoy: i’m lovin’ him”. i need to know where to purchase this because it’s the only thing i want to wear for the rest of my life. additionally, it is a proven fact that no one loves the boston bruins more than the boston bruins. for real

the reason he’s so angry is that he’s short, and therefore closer to hell. however, i have adopted “i’m punching him then” as a frequently used phrase in my daily life, i must admit. it’s pretty good

i would now like to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for a small collection of gifs of mr torey krug winking:

(gifs via @bradmarchrad​, @noeldozer​, and @kureally​) regularly scheduled programming will now resume

what’s a kiss between two 5′9 hockey guys?

this entire thing is comedy gold tbh. nhl 2003 for playstation. (my turtles). graduated from DARE. chicken and rice. iconic. i did get emo looking at ‘pro hockey player’ though like,, he really did that. he’s out there living his dreams. i am proud. and i’m sure there’s plenty of time for architecture after he retires too

he also has meme potential!! this is excellent because it applies to so many of life’s situations. particularly applicable to just about everything sweeney has done so far this free agency, but we won’t get into that

based on his reaction, you’d assume that the refs have just called a bad penalty or something (although not that they ever would), but no. he has in fact just scored a goal. $100 to anyone who is able to figure out why he is so displeased with this fact

...don’t speak to me or my son ever again

oooh take a look at these marvelous boys! extremely beautiful. black shirts are underrated imo, still as ~classy and refined~ as a plain white shirt, but it spices things up a little. poll: is torey krug a stylish legend? yes or yes

backes is just trying to celebrate the goal when along comes torey, resident nuisance. why is he like This

he has somehow perfectly mastered the skill of looking 14 and 40 at the same time, and it weirds me out a bit. i’ll just say he’s Timeless and move on

going to see a football game with the boys 💪🏻💪🏻 i cannot help but note the mild irony of torey in a gronk jersey - i would like a photo of the two of them together. also, this was posted here with the caption “brave of torey to post a picture where he looks like that next to three guys who look like that” and like torey, my man, i’m so sorry but i have to agree. the hat gives him a very non-threatening gnomish vibe. i’m sorry but it’s the truth

i have never in my life seen someone look so pleased with a simple fistbump. but you do you, man - whatever makes you happy. it’s also very deliberately delivered. it leaves me slightly confused overall. come to think of it, i don’t think i’ve ever seen a normal, well-executed fistbump on the bench, bruins or otherwise. hockey players are strange creatures

more tiny baby krug!!! she is so little oh gosh. adorable

a visual representation of all of bruins tumblr marvelling at patrice. me too, torey. me too.

TOREY !!!!! yet another murder, someone restrain this man before he can do any more damage oh my god

oof what a photo, i love this. and yet again, torey krug: angry. but we wouldn’t want him any other way. i love u, scorey krug!

bonus!

(gif via @marchnds​) i know this isn’t of torey, but i would be completely remiss to not include this gif of brad losing his shit after saying that torey looks like danny devito

 thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy!! 💕

[deatheld-blog]

𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽 "𝙹𝙰𝙲𝙺" 𝙰𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙻 has been spotted alive ! they must have come a long way from 𝙱𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽, 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚃𝚃𝚂. they’ve been with the group for 𝟷𝟶 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙷𝚂, taking up the role as a 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁. the others have described them to be quite 𝙳𝙴𝙲𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚅𝙴, 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃, and 𝙶𝚄𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙴𝙳. if you take a look in their bag, you may find 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂, 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙽𝙴𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴, and 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙷𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚈 𝙿𝚄𝙲𝙺.

𝙾𝙾𝙲. hello all! my name’s frankie, and i’m happy to be here! beneath the cut you’ll find an admittedly long bout of information about my boy. forgive me for any typos; it’s currently 1:30am as i write this! there are also some stats and connection ideas. if you want to plot, give this a like, or shoot me a message!

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴. john “jack” adell. 𝙰𝙶𝙴. thirty-nine. 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙾𝚆𝙽. boston, massachusetts. 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁. cismale. 𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽. bisexual. 𝙾𝙲𝙲𝚄𝙿𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽. former enforcer for the ( fictional ) seattle expansion nhl team / current leader of the group. 𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃. choleric. 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙸𝚃𝚂. practical, focused, efficient, problem-solver, a skilled delegator, inflexible, gruff, demanding of loyalty, uncomfortable around emotion.

trigger warnings for mentions of alcoholism, implied abuse, and death.

𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴. before the apocalypse set in, john “jack” adell grew up in boston. he did alright in school academically, but his real love rested in the one thing that let him soothe his admittedly short temper: hockey. the minute that he got old enough to start fights, he began dropping the gloves. no opponent was too small, too big: if they got in his way, or fucked with one of the players on his team, it was almost a guarantee he’d poke and prod at confrontation. this ferocity carried him all the way to the pro league, and he settled into the role of an enforcer and grinder. his focus was less scoring goals and moreso establishing and increasing team morale in the face of adversity.

his short temper stemmed from a difficult home life, with an alcoholic mother separating from her family and taking his sister with her --- years later, jack would come to find that she had disappeared shortly thereafter, and his sister died from illness. jack’s father was a good man who worked hard his entire life, and it filled jack with pride when he paid off his dad’s mortgage with whatever small wealth he was able to sequester away. he took plenty of hits, whether it be to the head, the shoulder, the stomach, but that didn’t eliminate the fact jack was good at strategy. while making plays wasn’t his strong-suit, he knew how to put his head down and focus. where was an opponent’s weakness? what would goad them into striking first? who liked to showboat, and who threw the fastest punches? he did everything it took to secure his place in this newfound family: during games he was a beast. off the ice he became something of a mediator if the problem didn’t involve him. his door stayed unlocked during road trips if someone needed to talk about something, get a weight off their chest. he made sure guys who drank too much got home safe. a caretaker wasn’t a role jack would have ever seen for himself as a kid, but he found that it eventually made sense.

he became an assistant captain eventually once he focused less on fighting and more on racking up points, as recognition of his dedication and character. jack wasn’t an overly emotional man then, and he surely isn’t now, but he has good enough intentions and is willing to give trust so long that it isn’t used against him. burn him once and most people will find they’ll regret it; there’s truth in the warning not to bite the hand that feeds. his truly prized possessions -- the broken compass and old hockey puck -- are from his father and the first game he ever won during a professional game. he was heading back to boston to see his father when the world ended and the apocalypse broke out. once he realized he was well and truly stranded, his focus became on surviving, and eventually founded his own group of survivors he trusted.

𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁. jack’s ascension to leadership was rocky to say the very least. he’d survived for a while on his own, drifting between newly-formed groups of the living and dead. after a while he said “fuck it” more or less and started his own with two roadsters who had the same morals he did even in the apocalypse; they started off with three and gained plenty more. jack ended up becoming something of a natural leader in the same way he had with his team. he’d seen plenty and been just as scarred by the horrors the world tossed his way. it was only a month in that he truly started to warm up to the concept of being put in this position. two months in he had proved himself time and time again to be someone worth trusting; he settled easily into the role of both an enforcer and comforter. he was a man of few words but a good shoulder to cry on if necessary.

he also had a wide range of skills and wasn’t afraid to learn; sure, he could put anyone who tried to start a fight down with a couple of words, but he fired a decent enough shot after life-or-death-necessitated practice. killing someone isn’t easy, but if he puts it in the range of an ice-ring, just him and a thousand other undead opponents, it gets easier. he might not hold the best conversation, but he’s got an eye for planning ahead and is willing to listen if you’ve got something to say; his flaws are apparent, sure, but usually outweighed by his focus on survival and keeping as many people alive as he can. he’s terrified by how well he’s managed to make a place for himself in this new world, by the way violence has changed him, but it makes sense that there’s no other choice. there’s no way out of this besides ripping out throats in the same way there was no way to survive in the league without throwing heavy hits.

𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈. jack’s a former pro hockey player who focused less on scoring and more on winning fights. he’s a natural leader, if not quiet, and founded the group. over the course of two months he settled into this position fully, seeing that others looked to him for guidance. while he’s not personally good with emotion, he’s strategic, a decent sounding board, and willing to listen if someone has concerns. he doesn’t shy away from violence -- it’s usually his first reaction to something, although he’s more skilled in restraining that impulse now than he was in his youth. he doesn’t back down from a fight and will do anything to keep his newfound family alive, no matter what it takes from him.

𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝚁𝙾𝙰𝙳𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂. these two would have been the first to join the small coalition it was when it first began. jack considers them to be his closest allies and trusts them as much as he did the first time he met them. they’re closer now than they’ve ever been and care about one another in equal measure -- although maybe they’re concerned by jack’s leaning towards brutality over negotiation on bad days. the details can definitely be worked out! 𝙾𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵𝙵 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁. this character could be someone who’s been in the group about as long or longer than he has -- their small affair is very much touch and go, without many emotions mixed in, until suddenly there are, and jack doesn’t really know what to do with himself about it, and it’s awkward, and no one will talk about their feelings like fucking adults even though the world has ended and if there’s any time to grow up about this shit it’s now. 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙴. jack, frankly, would have little to no interest at first in re-kindling anything here. he bounced around a lot during his years as a hockey player making money, and never settled in the way lots of people expect those of his age to, but he’d always been alright with that; he spent two or three years with this character somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties, and it died off in an ugly way after he took a hit that led to an almost career-ending concussion. maybe they’re new to the group and it’s a shock to encounter them here of all places. maybe they’ve been around since the start and are dancing around one another! 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳. what it says on the tin. they get along well enough, and whenever jack’s being an insufferable asshole, they pat him on the back and tell him to sit the fuck down. 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙴. admittedly inspired by this gifset! i just want a relationship with a younger character that’s almost sibling-like in a way; jack has a lot to say and a lot of knowledge to pass on. 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙾𝚁. jack’s a good leader, but he’s still got a lot to learn. whether it be medicinal skills or hunting or trapping or scouting, whatever this could possibly be, he’s open to listening and learning from someone who feels he might need to know more. 𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝙻. they’ve duked it out before. they don’t like jack’s way of dealing with things in comparison to the other leader of the group. maybe a punch or two have been thrown in truly tense moments. they just flat out don’t get along, and there’s not a ton to do about it -- and jack likely hasn’t really tried, either. it’s ugly. maybe their differences will bond them together after a while, or maybe it’ll all come to a head.

[nowitsdarkfic]

chapter nine - part two (midnight at denny’s)

⚠️ ...slight risqué content warning ⚠️ 

“Alright, good work, guys. Let’s call it a night and have some munch.”

We finished up later in the evening, well after the sun went down behind the forests on the far side of town. We had spent the first two hours at the rink without our knee pads, and then by lunch, Brick hurried back home real quick to fetch his. Meanwhile, the rest of us roamed about the slick ice surface with very little protection aside from our gloves and our masks. The rain and snow the past couple of days made the ice extra slick so we were able to almost glide about the surface like five ghosts.

But after the scare I had had with the apparition, specter, thing, whatever it was, of Maya before me, I roamed about the rink with my back erect for most of the afternoon: once the sun went down, I ducked low and gave my ass, my thighs, and my knees a strengthening. At one point during the middle of the afternoon, when no one was looking, I stuck the hockey stick in between my thighs and reached back for a feeling of my own ass.

Getting tighter, I can tell. Bigger? I can’t tell.

We played for quite a bit longer: now it’s almost ten at night. Now we’re all famished and now it’s dark.

Once we all had unlaced our skates and headed back to Spence’s car, I called shotgun and now here I am sinking down in the passenger seat next to the man himself. Brick, Barney, and Billy are crowded in the back behind us.

“I say we go to Denny’s up the road here,” he suggests once he shuts the door behind him.

“Works for me,” Brick says aloud.

But on the way there, all I can think about is seeing Maya there on the ice. How did she even get there? And what was going on with her skin and her hair? It made no sense, and I’m unsure if I’ll find the right answer for any aspect of it.

My heart hammers inside of my chest. It’s been a long day, but for good reason, though. Hockey is my other love after all.

I really, really want to touch myself right about now to rid of the extra adrenaline but it’s too close of a spot here with the boys and I don’t want to shoot all over the upholstery. It’s not worth it at the moment. And I’m not risking it back at my place, not with Maya there and Mrs. Snow manifesting in the mirror behind me. Maybe when I have a moment in the bathroom I can.

In fact, once we reach the Denny’s about a block from Black Orchid, the first thing I do is run to the men’s room. We’re a block away from the girls there. From Morgan, Lizzy, Cindy, the Jacksons, and Gwendolyn. Gimme a minute. Scratch that, gimme five minutes.

I take the stall closest to the door and unbutton my jeans. Down my hand goes into my underwear.

I sigh through my parted lips: at least I’m alone. Poking and stroking right there on my dick. I lean back against the cold metal for another shot of adrenaline.

I’ve got it now. At least I think I do. Every stroke of my thumb is like a shot of lightning right across my mind. I can think a lot clearer now.

I have to help Maya somehow, but I can’t if the slightest bit of adrenaline is enough to give me an erection. Maybe if I can have Lars assist me, we can uncover her past and her secrets. I hope I see him again because I don’t think I can do this solo.

I take my pants off all the way and once I have my belt around my knees, I reach over for some paper to clean up. Could be worse: one time at home, a few days following when I first moved into the complex, I came so hard, I had to mop up the kitchen floor and scrub part of my carpet. Ever since then I have secretly referred to myself as Chief Big Way: I’m that Indian boy with everything I could ever possibly need in the biggest way possible. It’s even funnier because Gwendolyn called me the Italian Stallion.

Too much. I’m too much even for myself at times.

When I step out of the stall, I head over to the sink to wash up, and for a split second, I swear I catch a glimpse of Maya and Mrs. Snow in the reflection of the mirror before me. I glance over my shoulder. Nothing there.

I shrug it off and proceed to clean off the little sticky bit that spilled over onto my fingers. I then cup my hands for a bit of water in my palm and run my fingers through my hair. Yeah, that’s a lot better.

Once I dry up with one of the paper towels, I head back out and make my way over to the booth tucked in the far corner of that front room. I have a seat on the end next to Brick, who’s next to Spence, who’s next to Barney and Billy; they’re eyeing me like they have something to tell me.

“What?”

“So do you like her?” Brick raises his eyebrows at me. I hesitate with my hands on the lapels of my coat.

“The fuck do you mean?”

“Do you like her?”

“Who?”

Spence shows me a smirk. And then it dawns on me.

“You told them?” I demand. He gives me a shrug.

“It is what it is. If our captain’s with a girl, we should know.”

I fetch up a sigh and that’s when the young blonde waitress steps over to our table. I don’t care if it’s getting late: I’m having coffee.

Once she makes the rounds of the table, the five of us are left alone with that hanging thought.

“Okay, first of all,” I begin, bowing my head even though the only other patrons are two truck driver looking guys about two tables away from us, “I have no romantic attachment to her--just gonna clear that up right now.”

“Are you sure?” Brick asks me with a chuckle.

“Positive. I’m not joking, man. I don’t even know how old she is--for all I know, she could still be a teenager.”

The smirks and smiles from the table; Barney and Billy even gape at each other.

“Two nights ago, I was taking a walk to get something to eat and I had an encounter with the Grim Reaper.”

“Again?” Barney’s stunned.

“Yeah. Dude, she’s only just to remind me of the fact there’s a piece of earth underneath me. Aside from that, I dunno what else she wanted me. But anyways, I looked across the street and I found her laying there in the storm drain--and you know, it was pouring rain the other night, too--and she had a rope around her ankles. For all I know, someone could’ve beaten the holy hell from her.”

The waitress returns with five glasses of crystal clear water accompanied with slivers of ice near the surface. I take a drink--God, I’m so thirsty!

“So what’d you do?” asks Billy, running the tip of his finger around the rim of his glass.

“I took her home. Well, not entirely. I was over by the strip club over here--”

“Black Orchid?” Brick fills in for me.

“Yeah. And it was the only place I could see offhand, and so I took her there.”

“I was wondering where you were yesterday morning,” Spence pipes up. “I was gonna take you over to Rochester to meet some lady friends of mine.”

“Lady friends?” I ask him, holding my glass at the base; the waitress returns again with our mugs of black coffee and a little white china dish filled with a pile of those stumps of creamer.

“Sonia and Marcia. They’re sisters from the magnificent Pacific Northwest, Oregon.”

“What’re they doing here upstate?”

“Marcia works at a bakery that apparently is trying to branch out over here. To get an idea of the area, she got a job at this upholstery place over in Rochester. Sonia’s an actress trying to bring her one woman show from the left coast to the right coast.”

“They’re sisters, you said?”

“Yeah. And they’re living in a pad a lot like yours, overlooking the lake. What’re you doin’--manana?”

“Manana? More than likely nada, unless my parents come back home early.”

“I’ll take you to meet them if you’d like.”

“I’d love to.” I take a sip of the coffee: perfectly beany and rich, just how I like it. “So at any rate, I guess all the girls there had just gotten off their shift because they all had their clothes on and they were extra nice to me and her. We spent the night and I told them it was birthday so they even threw a little party for me. But then I took her home and--” I shook my head as I hold the mug with both hands and rest my elbows on the table top.

“What?” Brick asks me.

“Whenever I ask her if she wants anything, like something to eat or whatever, she refuses. I mean, full on refuses. She will not eat anything. I don’t when the last time she ate was, so last night I was like ‘Jesus, she’s gotta be starving.’ You know, if I don’t eat for a while, I almost feel carsick. But she turns down any offer. She turned down offers over at the strip joint, and she turned it down from me. I don’t wanna force her to eat, but I also can’t do that to her. I can’t let her die.”

I bring the mug closer to my lips but I don’t take a sip.

“She’s got this weird scar on her forehead, too,” I recall, running my index finger along my forehead, underneath my bangs. “A perfect horizontal line, like a lobotomy scar. When I found her, I could even see it in the darkness. Very prominent, and very strange.”

“She wouldn’t tell you about that, either?” Billy frowns at that.

“What do you think you can do for her?” asks Spence, as he stirs in a packet of Sweet n’ Low into his coffee.

“No idea.”

“Well, I hope you can find something for her, dude. She sounds—interesting.”

“Interesting, yes. An unlikely wild card in my life, definitely for sure. But at the same time--and I can totally sense this, too--she needs help. You know, I got close to her face to check out the scar on her forehead and she acted like I just electrocuted her. She spent the rest of yesterday evening with her hands over her face. So she needs the help of professionals, but not me. I’m no pro at this sort of thing.”

The four of them glance at one another again.

“Well, in your defense, Joe, I wouldn’t know the first thing about that, either,” Barney confesses.

“If it were me, I would take her to the cops,” suggests Billy, “but other than that, I wouldn’t know what else to do.”

“Nah, the fuzz wouldn’t do her any justice,” Barney points out.

“They really wouldn’t, either,” I add to that before taking another sip of coffee, “I can barely get three words out of her, so I dunno if they’ll be the ones to pry answers out of her.”

“But that’s what I’d do, though,” Billy insists. “Or we can invite her home with us.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Barney scoffs at him.

“What? She’s obviously holding Joe back at the moment. We can probably take better care of her at the House of Grey.”

“We’ve got the Man in Black there, though.”

“Will ya stop with the Man in Black?”

“Hey, I saw Vera last night before I went to bed,” I wag my finger at Billy, “and I just about shit my pants. I can only imagine her scaring the hell out of Maya herself given how close Vera likes to get to me.”

“You’d rather she be staying in the realm of a malevolent ghost that causes nightmares?” Barney looks at me, appalled.

“I’d rather she be in the realm of just one ghost than many, a few of which are still freaking me out every time I see them, that is Vera and Mrs. Snow. The Boy With No Hands, too. And besides, it’s not like the Man in Black shows up all the time, either. At least, I hope not.”

I take another sip of my coffee before speaking again.

“Besides, you guys have a house,” Brick adds. “Joey just has his little bachelor pad.”

“Yeah, it’s just me there. She seemed pretty comfortable over at the strip joint because there was eight of us there surrounding her. Just from what I’ve seen anyways. She could use the extra company over at the House of Grey.”

Barney sighs through his nose and looks at Billy for a good long moment. Within time, he purses his lips and picks up his water glass for a big swig. And then he nods in affirmation.

“Alright,” he finally says. “We’ll swing by your place, Joe, and take her home with us.”

And right at that moment, the waitress arrives once again with our late night dinner. I have a feeling I’ll be eating more midnights at Denny’s like this from this point forth as I pick up a piping hot French fry and blow on it before dipping it into my ketchup.

“I should also add,” I start up again, holding the fry before my lips with my thumb and my index finger.

Billy lifts his gaze from his steak and Barney from his putting his napkin in his lap.

“--you guys want to convince her to take a bath or a shower, something. I don’t know when’s the last time she ate, nor do I know when’s the last time she bathed.”

“You found her in a storm drain, too,” Spence recalls, picking up his spoon.

“Yeah, when I got close to her face, she smelled--you guys know that nasty, earthy smell you get from wet leaves? Like during this time of year when the leaves are falling and they get wet from the first rains, and they have that smell to them? It’s like that.”

“Oh, God.” Billy almost gags at that.

“It’s pretty intense, too, like my eyes started watering when I got close to her face. So--yeah. I couldn’t convince her to eat but how she feels about cleaning up is a mystery.”

We fall back into momentary silence and then Spence starts talking about something completely different. We’re just five friends having dinner together, and that’s all I can ask for at the moment. But I still think about Maya and that apparition of her on the rink. Maybe she was trying to grab my attention from the fact she’s back at my place all alone with four ghosts? Who knows, and this fried chicken and French fries are too good to think about anything else.

Once our stomachs are full and slightly distended, and we all pitch in for the bill and the tip for the waitress, Spence takes all of us back home, starting with Brick’s house, and then to my place so Barney and Billy can take Maya back with them.

I left Maya alone for hours on end today. I hope she was able to find something to eat and something to do all day because I feel terrible about it now.

But when I unlock the front door, I find she had turned on the light and I can see the front room had been cleaned, the carpet vacuumed, the kitchen floor swept, the top of the table wiped off, all of it clean and smelling of lemons.

“Maya?” I call out. A brief moment of silence, followed by the sight of her stepping out of the bathroom, still wearing the same clothes as the night I found her but with rubber gloves on her hands. Barney and Billy congregate at the front door while I set down my things behind the couch. I then check out my chair and the couch itself, and I find she vacuumed and straightened both out for me. I then take a look at the phone: she even cleaned the spaces between the buttons on the keypad and the curls of the cord!

She enters the room as she peels off the gloves with a nonchalant look upon her face.

“Did--Did you clean my apartment?” I ask her, setting down the phone receiver.

“I did,” she replies, her expression never changing. “Top to bottom. I even vacuumed your mattress and cleaned the loo.”

“Thank you,” I can hardly speak from the feeling of my heart skipping a few beats. I shake my head and turn my attention to the two of them. “These are my friends, Barney and Billy. They wanna take you home with them.”

“I would love to,” she answers, the tone of her voice never changing from that gentle soft tone.

“We live just down the street, too,” Barney explains, gesturing out the door. “So if you wanna--you know, visit Joey--you can just mosey on over here.”

I swallow, feeling my face grow warm. I run my hand through my hair as she steps closer to them.

“You guys have a good night,” I tell the three of them as Billy coaxes her out of my apartment.

“Take care, Cup of Joey,” is the last thing Barney tells me with a wink and a smile.

“You, too, Barn-meister.”

With nothing more, the front door closes behind them, meaning I’m alone again. I sigh right then with the decision to turn in for the night. Maybe I should tell my parents about her.

[zeroviraluniverse-blog]

The U.S. women's hockey team hasn't won gold since 1998. Will the spell be broken in South Korea?

Visit Now - http://zeroviral.com/the-u-s-womens-hockey-team-hasnt-won-gold-since-1998-will-the-spell-be-broken-in-south-korea/

The U.S. women's hockey team hasn't won gold since 1998. Will the spell be broken in South Korea?

Passion forming with every tighten of the lace

Years of the same routine perfected today

Rituals that are practiced and shared behind locker room doors.

— Kacey Bellamy

It could have been a disaster.

Hurricane Irma was on a path toward the Tampa, Florida, area on Sept. 9, and authorities were bracing for a direct hit. As it happened, the best women’s hockey players in the United States had just begun training in Wesley Chapel, a few miles north of Tampa International Airport.

Even though the NHL’s Tampa Bay Lightning had decided to evacuate its players, Team USA decided to shelter in place at the Saddlebrook Resort, where they were staying. One agent who was worried about his clients told USA Today, “Why isn’t the women’s team evacuated? Is it because they are just girls … to me this is stupid, they are our Olympic team.”

But Reagan Carey, the general manager for the team, had thought it through, even going so far as to find out the number and the strength of the steel trusses in the shelter area at the Saddlebrook Resort. So on Sunday morning, Sept. 10, the team members abandoned their apartments for the shelter, joining other evacuees to wait out the storm, which lost steam from its original designation as a Category 4. Still, 80 mph winds howled outside the building as Irma passed over. The women played cards, visited with Hilary Knight’s bulldog puppy, Winston, in a separate pet area, and made hockey fans out of their fellow refugees. Captain Meghan Duggan later called it “a big sleepover,” and by the next morning, they were able to return to their quarters and their lives.

“We were kind of scared,” said Kacey Bellamy, the veteran defenseman and one of six players who are in Pyeongchang for their third straight Olympics. “But the negative turned into a positive. It was a great bonding experience for us, the kind of thing that brings a team closer together. Plus, I learned how to play [the card game] euchre.”

By Tuesday, they were back to practicing and helping out in the community. Irma faded into a metaphor for a team that has had to weather a lot of storms over the years.

There was the crushing loss to Canada in the gold-medal game in Vancouver eight years ago. And the devastating 3-2 overtime loss in Sochi in 2014 that gave Canada its fourth straight gold medal. And the battle with USA Hockey last spring, when the women threatened to boycott the 2017 IIHF world championships if they weren’t given living expenses, travel accommodations and medal bonuses befitting representatives of the United States of America.

Not only did they win that battle, but they also went to Plymouth, Michigan, for the world championships and beat Canada 3-2 in overtime in the final — earning the team’s fourth consecutive title. “We’ve been through a lot together,” said Bellamy, now an assistant captain on the team. “I think that’s made us stronger.”

Resilience is part and parcel of hockey, but for female players — who often start out playing with the boys, who give up the comfort of home, who fight off waves of challengers and adjust to a succession of coaches all to pursue their Olympic dreams — well, you just bounce off the boards.

You might even write a poem about the sport you love.

World champ and Olympian Kacey Bellamy (22) watched the gold medal slip away from her team to archrival Canada in two consecutive Winter Olympics. She’s looking for gold in Pyeongchang. AP Photo/Julio Cortez, File

Actions that are defined as the norm within the team

Replaying the past of one game, one play, one second

That has triggered one year of training against that one team.

It was a disaster.

What happened in Sochi’s Bolshoy Ice Dome on March 6, 2014, is excruciating to watch, even four years later. Team USA had a 2-0 lead on Team Canada late in the third period of the gold-medal game. But with 3:26 left in the game, Canada’s Brianne Jenner fired a shot that would’ve gone wide had it not ricocheted off Bellamy’s right leg and past goalie Jessie Vetter. Coach Katey Stone clapped her hands and told the team not to panic, that they were OK.

As time wound down, Canada pulled goalie Shannon Szabados, and Team USA’s Kelli Stack got off a clearing shot that headed for the empty net … and bounced off the left side of the left post. “When those things start to happen in the game of hockey,” Stone later said, “you start to wonder if it is your night.”

It wasn’t. Just 55 seconds away from finally beating Canada for the gold, Marie-Philip Poulin tied the score at 2-2 to send the game into overtime. Team USA had its chances in OT — the left-handed Bellamy almost ripped one past Szabados — but then the refs made some questionable calls, leaving the U.S. short-handed at just the wrong time. At 8:10 of overtime, Poulin fired the game winner past Vetter.

Imagine what it was like watching the Canadians celebrate and then waiting around to accept your silver medals.

“All that work, all that hope,” said Bellamy. “Gone just like that. It took me five months to get over it. March, April, May, June, July. I’m big on watching videos of games, but I didn’t look at that one until August. I needed to get my motivation back.”

Part of that motivation has to do with the team that beat the Americans, the team that always seems to beat them. USA vs. Canada in women’s hockey is one of the greatest rivalries in all of sports. It started way back in 1916 and captivated the world when women’s hockey debuted as an Olympic sport at Nagano in 1998. The U.S. won that gold-medal game, but the Canadians have won every Olympics since.

The rivalry is so intense that 10 fighting majors were handed out in one 2013 game, resulting in six U.S. players and five Canadians crammed into the penalty boxes. But they are also friends who share a love of the sport and often play on the same collegiate and pro teams. Caroline Ouellette and Julie Chu, one-time captains of Teams Canada and USA, respectively, first met at the Salt Lake City Games in 2002 and are now coaching at Concordia University in Montreal together while raising Liv Chu-Ouellette, born to Caroline last November.

After 20 years of rivalry, if it boils down to these two for the gold medal in Pyeongchang, who will have the edge?

Do Jordan Greenway and the NHL-less U.S. men have enough firepower to fend off Canada, Finland and OAR? And will the American women gain revenge on their archrival and strike gold for the first time since 1988? Here’s who will take home the hardware.

After helping Team USA to two world championships and a silver medal in Sochi, and then overcoming a crippling concussion, Amanda Kessel has her sights set on gold at the Pyeongchang Olympics. But off the ice, her future is a little more complicated.

2 Related

Both shielded by different armor

Separated by a simple borderline

Sharing the same frenzy for the sport and rivalry

Colors, countries, teammates

All united on the same ice

Bellamy, a women’s studies major at the University of New Hampshire, likes to write poetry in her spare time. “They’re mostly about nature and people,” she said. “But I did write this one about hockey.” In fact, USA Hockey used the poem for a video to promote the “Bring On The World” tour before the last Olympics.

That’s Bellamy’s voice narrating her words in the video, an ode to the challenges of the sport in general, and the rivalry in particular. There is a depth of feeling to the poem that explains why and how Bellamy and the other five three-timers have stayed at the top of the American team for so long, through three different coaches (Mark Johnson, Stone, Robb Stauber) and all the ups and downs.

“Eight years ago, I was just a rookie with my eyes wide open, in awe of where I was, who I was playing with,” said Bellamy. “Now I’m 31 and still in awe of the responsibility. The Olympics is about more than the rivalry with Canada. It’s about representing the country. It’s about showing people how beautiful women’s hockey can be. It’s about the little girls with sticks, the little girls we used to be.”

Two years ago, Bellamy wrote a powerful “Letter to My Younger Self” for The Players Tribune. Addressed to 15-year-old Kacey, she recalled leaving behind her family and friends in Westfield, Massachusetts, to attend the Berkshire School and how the first two weeks “are going to be the worst two weeks of your life.” She told her about the friends and coaches who changed her life, about getting her heart broken when she was cut from USA Hockey’s under-22 team, about using the rejection as motivation to make the senior national team.

“You’re going to play for the U.S. team for a long time,” she wrote. “But never take anything for granted. Make the most of the opportunities you have.”

Each playing for the crest on the front of the jersey

And sticking up for every name on the back

Relax. Just like in Tampa, it might not be the disaster they’re predicting.

Some people who care deeply about Team USA worry that Pyeongchang will be as much a disappointment as Sochi or Vancouver or Turin or Salt Lake City were. They wonder why Stauber, a former NHL goalie who assisted Stone in Sochi, didn’t name any female assistants to his staff. And while he did coach the team to the world championship last April, and beat Canada 5-1 to win the Four Nations Cup on Nov. 12, Team USA has lost the past four games to Canada in its pre-Olympic warm-up.

A 2-1 overtime loss to Canada at the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota, on Dec. 3 was particularly painful because the tying goal was scored by Poulin and the winning goal by Jenner, their Sochi nemeses. And it happened in front of members of the 1998 USA Olympic team, who were honored between periods for the United States’ only gold medal.

Afterward, Stauber said, “For us, it’s not necessarily about the 20 years, but more about, ‘It’s time.’ We’ve got to bring home a gold medal. We’ve got a pretty good vision. We’re sticking with it, and we like our direction.”

That direction included the addition of three players since Irma: defenders Cayla Barnes and Sidney Morin and forward Haley Skarupa. When the final roster was named after the second period of the Winter Classic at Citi Field on Jan. 1, veterans Bellamy, Duggan, Knight, Monique Lamoureux-Morando, Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson and Gigi Marvin were on it, but forward Alex Carpenter, Team USA’s leading scorer in Sochi, and defender Megan Bozek were not — leading some to speculate that they did not buy into Stauber’s system.

Stauber stresses a controlled possession game that sometimes takes the puck back into the neutral zone. As for the lack of a female coach, he does rely on his veterans to help the younger players. Bellamy has been working with the 18-year-old Barnes, who had been getting ready to play for Boston College when she was asked to report to Wesley Chapel. “She’s wise beyond her years,” says Bellamy. “Very poised … she’s just wonderful to have around the locker room.”

While the recent results against Canada have been disappointing, it’s worth keeping in mind that in the American men’s last exhibition game with the Soviet Union before the 1980 “Miracle on Ice” game, Team USA was crushed 10-3.

In Pyeongchang, both archrivals beat Finland and the Russians in the first two games of Group A play — though there was some hand-wringing as the U.S. got off to slow starts in the first period of both games. It was Bellamy who broke the ice at 8:02 of the first period of the victory over the Russians, stepping into the attack off a pass from Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson and firing a seeing-eye shot past Russian goalie Valeria Tarakanova. Team USA then put the game away in the second period, thanks to a more aggressive mindset and two goals by Lamoureux-Davidson within six seconds — an Olympic record.

By winning those first two prelims, Canada and Team USA assured themselves of a place in the semifinals, meaning that their game tomorrow means nothing… and their next one everything.

“We’re starting with a clean slate in South Korea,” says Bellamy. “This time will be different.”

Or, as she once wrote:

Mistakes lead to success

Errors lead to victory

Pride leads to gold

[techcrunchappcom]

New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/todays-sports-news-what-you-need-to-know/

Today's sports news: What you need to know

Latest – Former heavyweight champion Evander Holyfield has said he is open to facing one-time rival Mike Tyson in a trilogy fight for charity on the condition that Tyson asks for the bout to be set up.

Photo: PHOTOSPORT

Tyson, 53, fought two epic bouts with Holyfield, 57, during their professional careers, including their controversial 1997 encounter in which Tyson bit off a chunk of Holyfield’s ear.

‘Iron Mike’ had released several training videos in recent weeks fuelling speculation he could be returning to the ring, while Holyfield announced his return for a charity bout on Instagram earlier this month.

“If I ask him it’s almost like me being a bully saying I want to go against somebody I’ve beaten twice,” Holyfield told the BBC. “I don’t want pressure on me that ‘you just want to fight Mike because you know you can beat him’.

“If he hits me I’m going to hit back. I’m going to be 58, he’ll be 54, you talk about being in good health and doing things the proper way that respects it. I don’t have no problem with it.”

Tyson, the first heavyweight to hold the WBA, WBC and IBF titles, retired after a loss to Kevin McBride in 2005, while Holyfield called time on his career nine years later.

If they do return, they will be following in the footsteps of Floyd Mayweather Jr and Manny Pacquiao in coming out of retirement for an exhibition fight.

-Reuters

England womens football called off

England’s womens football competitions, stalled by the Covid-19 crisis, have been ended with immediate effect.

Manchester City women Photo: PHOTOSPORT

The FA says the decision was taken to end the Women’s Super League and Women’s Championship following “overwhelming feedback from the clubs” and to give them the chance to “prepare and focus on next season.”

Manchester City were leading the Super League by a point from Chelsea, who had a game in hand.

The FA said no decision had yet been made on how the league winner or relegation to the Women’s Championship would be decided, or how entries for the 2020-21 UEFA Women’s Champions League would be determined.

Aston Villa were six points clear at the top of the Women’s Championship.

Top-flight English football’s men’s teams were given permission to resume training in small groups last week.

-Reuters

Remembering Jesse Owens

It was 85 years ago today that American sprint legend Jesse Owens set four world records.

Described by Sports Illustrated as the “Greatest 45 minutes ever in sports” history, Owens set records in the 100 yard, 220 yard, 220 yard hurdles and long jump.

He achieved the feat running for Ohio State at a College meeting in Michigan.

His tally was in fact six world records as he also achieved metric milestones in two of the races.

A year later Owens went on to win four gold medals at the 1936 Berlin Olympics.

-World Athletics

Baseball returning to Japan

Pro baseball is set to return in Japan with the Nippon Professional Baseball league to begin its 2020 season on June 19, as the government lifts restrictions aimed at stopping the novel coronavirus outbreak.

Photo: PHOTOSPORT

Games will initially be played without spectators, NPB Commissioner Atsushi Saito announced, without saying when fans may be able to return.

The NPB season was supposed to start on March 20 but has been delayed because of the coronavirus.

New cases in Japan have decreased significantly recently and a state of emergency imposed in April to help stop the virus is gradually being lifted and professional sport is being allowed to resume.

Two Japanese teams held intra-squad practice games in empty ballparks yesterday as they gear up for a return to action.

Several of Japan’s top football clubs, including Andres Iniesta’s Vissel Kobe, also began training on Monday.

-Reuters

Indian hockey legend dies

India’s three-times Olympic hockey gold medallist Balbir Singh has died at the age of 95 after a prolonged pulmonary illness.

Singh helped India win its first Olympic gold as an independent country at the 1948 London Games when they beat Britain 4-0 in the final. India then went on to defend the title at the next two Games in Helsinki and Melbourne.

Singh scored five goals in India’s 6-1 victory over the Netherlands in the 1952 final — a record that still stands. He also captained the country at the 1956 Games when they scored 38 goals in five matches and conceded none.

Following his retirement, Singh coached the Indian team which won the World Cup in 1975.

-Reuters

Reds okay with departing team-mates

Queensland Reds players harbour no ill will towards Wallabies lock Izack Rodda and two other team mates for rebelling against pay-cuts, the Super Rugby team’s captain Liam Wright said.

Rodda, flyhalf Isaac Lucas and lock Harry Hockings were released from their contracts last week after refusing to take pay-cuts signed off by the players union and governing body amid a financial crisis brought on by the coronavirus shutdown.

The three have been criticised heavily by former players and pundits for their stance, which has effectively ended their career in Australian rugby for the foreseeable future.

Wright, however, said the trio’s departure could bring the rest of the Reds playing group closer.

“It’ll definitely be a positive for us,” Wright said.

“We’ve lost some good mates but they’ll still be our mates and they’ve made their decision. This group can only get stronger through it.

“It just makes sure that everyone who wants to be here is really willing to put in.”

Rodda missed out of the Reds captaincy to South Africa-born flanker Wright and there were reports of friction between the lock and the team’s hard-nosed coach Brad Thorn.

The three players, who are all managed by the same agent, are expected to look overseas for playing opportunities.

-Reuters

Kvitova happy to be back

Two-time Wimbledon champion Petra Kvitova is happy to finally play tennis again for fans around the world – even if they can only watch on television.

Czech tennis star Petra Kvitova. Photo: Photosport/Icon Sportswire

The world number 12 will headline an all-Czech tournament in Prague starting today without spectators, handshakes or the usual towel service.

The return to action is one of the first after pro tennis tours were suspended in early March as countries went into lockdown to contain the spread of the new coronavirus.

Some exhibition events without fans have been held in countries like Germany and the United States while more are planned elsewhere in the coming weeks.

Kvitova last played at the Qatar Open in February where she lost in the final to Belarus’s Aryna Sabalenka. She said finding rhythm and playing without support would be the hardest part returning.

“That it will be without people is something I still can’t imagine at all,” she told a news conference on Monday.

“We will play some nice tennis… I think we are mainly here to bring tennis back not only to the Czech Republic, but to the world, too.”

The tournament, with eight players in both the men’s and women’s draw, will resemble regular tennis as much as possible.

-Reuters

Ban on cricket spit only temporary

A recommendation banning the use of saliva to shine a cricket ball when the sport resumes after the novel coronavirus shutdown is only a temporary measure, Anil Kumble, the chairman of the International Cricket Council’s Cricket Committee, said.

Cricketers have used the age-old method of shining one side of the ball with a combination of saliva and sweat to help bowlers generate more movement in the air as it travels towards the batsman.

However, as part of efforts aimed at minimizing the risk of spreading the virus, the governing body’s cricket committee has recommended the ban on using spit.

“We have been very critical and we have been very focused on eliminating any external substances coming into the game,” former India leg-spinner Kumble said on Star Sports’ Cricket Connected.

“This is only an interim measure and as long as we have hopefully control over COVID in a few months or a year’s time then I think things will go back to as normal as it can be.”

Australia quick Pat Cummins has said cricket’s lawmakers should approve the use of an artificial substance to shine the ball if the ban on saliva was enacted, while compatriot Josh Hazlewood has said it would difficult to police such a ban.

-Reuters

New Zealand to host tennis tournament

The prize-money is paltry, the field lacks star power and the tournament director is busy hammering out the draw while locked down in quarantine.

But New Zealand will be proud to revive elite tennis next week when it stages the “Premier League” in Auckland, marking the southern hemisphere’s first pro competition since the Covid-19 pandemic brought global sport to a halt.

The men’s team-based tournament will run for three weeks from June 3, giving tennis-starved fans something to watch in the absence of the pinnacle ATP and WTA tours, which have been suspended since early March.

It will also have the sporting spotlight exclusively in New Zealand for its opening 10 days, having left professional rugby’s June 13 restart in the dust.

All 112 matches will be staged without the general public in the terraces but the games will be broadcast live on Sky Sport’s Youtube channel, Sky Sport Next.

“Yeah, it’s a big thing,” Tennis New Zealand’s commercial manager Gareth Archer told Reuters.

“As soon as rugby starts there’s probably no more talk about (anything else) in New Zealand so to get a week or two on them is a good thing.”

-Reuters