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imnotjaesblog · 6 months

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Part 5: The Jock

Starring: Lee Jeno

Summary: Unlike some of the other men in Y/n's life Jeno is no stranger. He's had the luxury of knowing and admiring her ever since they were little. He's been his end goal since he was ten and promised a spot at the company if he married his father's best friend's daughter. Jeno wanting only the best for himself and his family kept that promise and has waited years for his moment. It's only after a certain someone starts to spill the details of Y/n's plans of revenge does he start to remember what made him so interested and sometimes so uninterested in her in the first place. In Jeno's eyes, it's only okay when the worst isn't happening to him. Too bad he's next on her list.

Warnings: Smut, Oral (F.m reciving) Y/n gives Jeno a handjob. Intercourse, Curisng and Manipulation.

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!!

Words: 7.7k

Enjoy :)

The boy's locker room was the last place you'd ever thought you'd be. Yet here you were standing in your brown Jimmy Choo high heel boots, brown patted skirt with the brown leather jacket to match. Your hair was wrapped up in a tight bun and a Jimmy Choo Burgundy Patent And Suede Mahala Satchel is wrapped around your shoulder. Lips in a glossed purse, as you stood in the locker room with your arms, crossed over your chest and every boy's jaw on the floor.

"You can't be in here!" a boy yelled towel wrapped around his waist. But instead of shying away from you, he laughed with his friends all of them checking out your body. His body jiggled as he laughed. You walked over to him Jimmy Choo's boots made a clink as you stepped on the dripping floor. Every male in that room followed your body.

"Sweetie close your mouth. You're cuter when you're not talking," You said watching his mouth slightly open. He stared at you in awe of the pet name and the fact that it came from your lips. He reached over with a chuckle flicking his chin. The boy jerked back causing you to chuckle.

"Watch out man you'll have to take another shower," he said causing the boy to brush him off with his hand. The group of boys went to leave but you stopped one that was on the hockey team.

"Sungchan," you called touching his arm. He turned to you with a friendly smile, already fully dressed. "Yes?" he asked you. "Have you seen Jeno?" you asked back. He raised a brow thinking for a moment. "He should be in practice," he responded swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder. "I can walk you there," he offered with a warm smile. You nodded handing him your bag. He took it in his hands walking ahead as you followed walking out of the sweat and pit-smelling locker room.

Once you arrive at the official locker room for the hockey players Sungchan stops in front of you. "This is it," he said motioning to the locker door. He handed you back your purse, opening the door for himself. You stopped it from closing with your boot. His eyes widen. "You can't come in its for boys," he nervously. You shrugged, "Are they naked?" you asked. He peaked inside seeing all the men in uniform including Jeno. He pulled his head back out shaking his head. You smiled removing your boot and letting the door hit his back.

"Then let me in," you said calmly with a hint of sternness. He sighed pushing the door open. He cursed at himself in his head for letting you talk down to him and for also wanting to do whatever you told him to do.

You walked drawing attention once again with the sound of your boots. Your eyes however searched for Jeno. Seeing only two members of the team sitting at their respective benches. Your school took hockey and basketball very seriously giving both sports their own respective space to practice and change. As you walked further in you stepped on the orange and blue rug continuing your search for Jeno.

You saw Sungchan place his bag down and sit beside Haechan who turned his head when he looked at you. You smirked to yourself knowing the effect you had on him. You walked further in seeing Ten emerge in full uniform. He picked up his head smiling wide when he saw you. He rushed over to you embracing you in a hug. "Mhm you smell great," he complimented. "Same as always?" he asked and you nodded with a warm and genuine smile.

You took his hand pulling him to the side. "Where's Jeno?" you whispered. He nudged his head to the left. "In the office talking with the coach. He should be outside," he said you nodded. He began chuckling showing off his gorgeous smile. "By the way," he nudged his head forward. "Haechan is pissed," he said with a slight chuckle.

"So you see," you responded. "You really did a number on him," he said back looking away from Haechan who once he looked your way again got up and left leaving Sungchan alone. You turned back to Ten hearing a voice. The voice matched a face once he emerged from the corner. Your smile fell and your eyes slightly widened, a lump caught in your throat. Ten scanned your face worried. "What is it?" he asked seeing your face change from worry to annoyance.

He was about to turn but then he heard the boy laugh. Si Cheng is behind him talking with Yangyang. Both men laughed not even noting your presence until Yangyang opened his eyes his laughter dying once he spotted you.

"Y/n?" he questioned Si Cheng's head snapping to you almost popping a vein. "Y/n?" he questioned as well. "What are you doing here?" asked Yangyang. You attempted to find an excuse but Si Cheng beat you to it.

"She's here to meet me. Right babe?" he asked walking over to you. He pushed past Ten who stumbled back annoyed. You scoffed licking your teeth and shaking your head. Si Cheng landed by your side placing a strong arm around your waist. Dressed in his hockey uniform he pulled you closer to him. "Came to wish me luck on the game tonight," he said and you smiled with a nod. Yangyang stepped closer Sungchan coming over as well.

"I didn't know you guys were dating," said Sungchan. "How could you not everyone know? They fucked in his car, remember?" Yangyang asked. You watched Ten's hand ball up into a fist but shot him a glare. You chuckled brushing your arm. "That seems like an exsanguination," you said back calmly with a small shake of your head. "I don't sleep and tell," you said looking over at Si Cheng who clenched his jaw tightening his grip around your waist.

You watched his leg start to bounce. You bit back your own smile.

"Doesn't seem like it," he spat back.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you asked with a tilt of your head. You mouthed the words "Watch it" to Yangyang all of you watched as he scoffed and walked away. "Ten a moment alone with my boyfriend," you said to Ten who eyed the boy. Si Cheng smugly smirked ushering Ten away with his hand. "You heard her go," he said cockily. Ten went to rush at him but Sungchan stopped him placing a hand on his chest with a shake of his head. "Come on it's not worth it," he said removing Ten. You sent him a comforting smile as he left.

Once it was just you two in the locker room you stepped onto his foot hard his hand removing itself from around your waist. You turned to him, Si Cheng holding onto his aching foot a srunch in his face in pain. You bent down grabbing onto his uniform collar pulling him back up his body straightening out. His fearful eyes wide staring back into your angry ones. You dragged him to a locker pushing him up against it. "Listen, Si Cheng, I don't know how you convinced everyone that I'm on your pathetic little arm but you did. Now that you have given me no choice I will do everything in my power to destroy you,"

"Y/n come on it's all fun-" he said smugly.

"It's not fun for me. You are slowly destroying my reputation and I won't let, especially some nobody do that," You said with a shake of your head. Words spitting from your mouth like venom. Si Cheng hadn't taken this seriously. Assuming this would be a game for the two of you from now on. But now seeing the firey look in your eyes he was starting to realize who he was dealing with.

"I will rip every piece of you apart piece by piece. Destroy every bit of your social life that even the people outside who beg to be in this school will look down upon you. You will be burned to ashes when I'm done with you," you said with no stutter. You stepped closer to him just hovering over his face and with a hushed whisper you spoke.

"And I'll start with the people closest to you the same way yours did to mine," you hushed. Si Cheng's heart rate picked up when you spoke your words of warning. He needed to say something do anything to stand his ground. So he pushed your hand off his arm jerking it back. He stepped closer to you causing you to step back.

"Okay, baby you wanna play this kind of game? You know who my father is-" he warned.

"And you know mine. Try and threaten me," you spat back with a confident smirk. You crossed your arms over your chest watching Si Chjeng closely as he went to speak however his words died on his tongue when the captain of the hockey team stepped out of the coach's office.

You looked over his shoulder with a sinful smile. Si Cheng's eyebrow raised confused. He went to speak but you shushed him with your hand. He stops seeing you and starts to walk away.

"Jeno!" you called grabbing the captain's attention. He turned to you with a smile. Si Cheng's heart skipped a beat poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue. You looked back at Si Cheng with a glare that was quickly replaced with a smile. Who knew behind all that glamour and good looks was an evil Easy A?

"I was looking for you," you said to Jeno as you walked past Si Cheng. Jeno smiled as you skipped over to him completely oblivious to one of his best friends watching not too far away. If this is how you were going to handle things then let there be war.

Too bad you were already a few steps ahead, taking the jewels from all the battles you've already won.

You didn't spare Si Cheng a second glance once your arm wrapped around Jeno's stepping outside the hockey team's locker room.

"I was looking for you," You said on Jeno's arm as he walked to the ice rink. He smiled shaking his head. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," He said opening the door for you. You stepped inside the cool room rubbing your hands together. Jeno followed behind handing you his Celine hoodie. You slipped it on taking your place on a nearby bench while the hockey team began practice. Jeno slipped on his skates. Once he tied them both he stood up leaning over to place a kiss on your kiss you swiftly turned your head his kiss landing on your cheek.

He didn't think much of it taking off onto the ice rink.

Jeno and you had a small past. You weren't lovers or even close friends, it was only recently that you two became so close. However, you did know his older sister thanks to the closeness of your parents. This university was full of kids who lived wealthy lives it was just a matter of how high you were on the chain of wealth.

You sat at the top. Your parents own multiple businesses their biggest being the tech company. Jeno's father is a CEO at one of your mother's companies. The two being great friends in college she offered him a job he couldn't refuse. Making his sister, him, and you childhood friends. His father always wanted the best for his children. He wanted both to be successful, attend the best schools, and join as many clubs as possible. He wanted his children to live the life they both truly deserved and with his daughter next in line for the company he had to give his son something.

A certain Sunday afternoon at the Y/L house gave him the idea.

After your time with Yangyang that Sunday, you missed brunch with your friends, you had to attend a small brunch your parents were hosting before they left for Bejing on business. They invited a few friends, Jeno's parents being on the guest list.

And with your luck, Jeno was already on your list.

So you set the bait. During your parent's brunch, you pulled him aside. Leading him down a hallway of your childhood home. Sneaking off into your old bedroom. You shut the door after pushing him inside. He stood confused but intrigued unable to wipe the smile off his lips. You locked your bedroom door your feet not having a chance to sink into the memories of your soft carpet. You pushed Jeno onto your bed straddling. He shocked held onto your waist so you wouldn't fall. Leaning down you placed a kiss on his lips grinding against him.

He pulled away eyes wide but still holding his grip on your waist. His lips are already hot and red. A million questions flowed through his head. You had never shown any interest in him. What made you change your mind? Was it physics? He thought or maybe his cologne.

" Y/n what are you doing?" he asked chest heaving up and down. You sat back hands placed on his firm chest a small pout forming on your lips. "You don't want to?" you asked a hint of sadness in your tone. He sat up shaking his head holding you tight, close to him. "No I do its just not when your parents and my parents are in the other room," he said. You sighed lifting your leg up from his waist. You stood up, Jeno sitting up legs spread fixing his blue blazer.

"Fine," you pouted fixing yourself. Jeno stood up wanting to see me in your presence. Grabbing your arm he pulled you in his direction guiding you to your bed. He laid you down and picked up your brown flowy Prada dress that hugged your curves perfectly. He kissed his way up or thigh his action catching you by surprise. His kisses are warm and wet, the heat from his lips on your skin making your panties pool.

You sat up watching his head disappear into your dress. "Jeno I thought…our parents," you said softly eyes beginning to shut as Jeno inched closer. He lifted his head lips wet from his own drool. "I know what I said baby but you clearly need my help and I can't just let you leave when you're in pain. Does it hurt baby?" he asked and you nodded with a pout. He picked himself up with a slight nod followed by a pout placing a wet kiss on your lips.

"See baby I can leave you in pain. So let me do this okay? Let me make it better," he said kissing your jaw. You nodded handing reaching up to his hair and eyes shutting. "Okay but what will I do when it hurts again?" you asked playing along. He kissed under your ear and down your neck. Licking and sucking on the beauty mark just below your ear. "Call me and I'll help you," he said placing a kiss on your lips. You nodded turning your head to fully engulf him with your lips.

His hand glides down your body hands bunching up the cloth of your dress, hicking it, and ruffling up at your waist. His fingers slipped past your lilac panties spreading your wet folds between his cool lengthy fingers. You leaned your head back on his chest eyelids fluttering shut. Your lips parted air pushing through and fanning his skin. His fingers crept around your clit swirling the bud in small circles.

You let out an airy moan still being mindful of where you were. Jeno smirked eyes peeling from his hand that disappeared under your brown dress to your face. "That's right baby girl take it," he whispered into your ears warm breath tickling your neck. You shuddered hand reaching to grab his thigh. The faster his fingers circled your clit the higher your hand slid up his thigh gripping on his slacks, your nails digging into his skin.

"Fuck," you cursed feeling your moan get caught in your throat. He looked up checking the door. Seeing it closed the door still locked shut he looked back down with a smirk. He used his other hand to grab hold of your chin yanking your face to meet his looking deep into your eyes. "Awww," he cooed speeding up his fingers. Your lips formed a pout his eyes mocking you.

"Baby girl, are you close?" he asked darkly. You nodded your hand inching closer to his clothed cock. You nodded a knot in your stomach quickly forming but something in your gut told you there was something off about Jeno Demnor.

His hand suddenly slowed. "I'll let you cum if you answer my question," he said you huffed annoyed he brought you so close yet took it away. You rolled your eyes your hand hovering over his dick. You flicked your eyes back up to him. "Fine," you said lips forming a tight line.

"Did you fuck Si Cheng?" he asked slowly circling your clit.

You shook your head staring into his eyes.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said yes," you responded.

He smirked leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. You turned your head his kiss landing on the corner of your mouth. You dropped your hand grabbing onto his cock and squeezing it feeling how hard he was in your hand. "But don't get in the middle baby. I know your secret," you said picking your head up. You stood up to walk away but he followed grabbing hold of your waist and throwing you onto your bed,

Your legs spread apart. Jeno flopped onto the bed laying in front of you crawling to rest in between your legs. You raised yourself on your elbows watching with a villainous smirk on your lips. Jeno grabbed hold of your thighs spreading your legs apart your dress spilling onto your waist. He ripped your panties off throwing them to the other end of your room. His cool fingers spread your fold, hot mouth engulfing your clit. His tongue flicked the bundle of nerves.

You chuckled watching him devour you.

He wasted no time abusing your clit and sucking every inch of your pussy with his wet lips. Eating you like a starved man. You felt the knot in your stomach form again. He looked up your hands spreading your thighs apart still. Your bottom lip in between your teeth stared back into his dark orbs head falling back as you spilled into his mouth. He groaned eyes shutting as she swallowed your juices coaxing his throat.

"Jeno! Y/n!" you heard your mother called. Jeno panicked letting you go. He stood up adjusting himself while you took your time licking your lips as you walked up to the anxious man. You patted his shoulder stealing his attention.

"Come see me again," you said. He smiled hand resting on your waist.

"Y/n," he began successfully hiding his boner. "I know what you're doing. I know what you've done with my friends," he said hand pulling you closer to him.

You raised a brow heart skipping a beat. Your breathing had quickened as you tried to focus on his eyes. "What do you mean?" you asked hiding the nerves in your tone.

"I know you didn't fuck Si Cheng. You would never, not even out of pity," he chuckled dark hair dusting his forehead. "But I know you Y/n, I know you have a knack for revenge," he said darkly. You pushed him off angrily. "You don't know me-"

"Yes I do," he said calmly. "I know you are planning something," he said with a step towards you. "I may not know what," he said stepping closer and closer to you, your back hitting the dresser. He hovered over you. "But I know it involves them," he said glaring into your eyes. Your chest rose up and down trying to find the words to speak. Your mind flowed with questions. How was he able to read you so well? There so no way out of the entire friend group he would figure it out.

You couldn't let him win. You couldn't let them win. You weren't even halfway and he was seconds from destroying everything. The worry on your face sparked even more of his flames.

"And if I find out what you're doing. I will destroy you," he said a hitch in your throat. You gulped fear flowing through your veins. "So for now," he helped you up taking your arm in his. "You will be my obedient and pleasant girlfriend and if you refuse I'll have my private investigator search every inch of your life and find out what you're doing," he said an unpleasant smile on his lips. "Do you understand?" he asked guiding you to your bathroom door. You nodded walking with him. He opened the door allowing you to step inside.

"Great. Now get yourself cleaned up. I'll meet you in the living room," he said with a smile as he shut the door. The minute the door shut you felt the tension in your body fade. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. You instantly grabbed your phone and dialed the number of your private investigator thinking only one thing in your head.

Jisung better not have opened his fucking mouth.

———

Once Jeno took off onto the rink you rolled your eyes removing his sweater from your body and placing it on the bench. You would rather be cold than wear his sweater.

After the team took a break you decided to leave. There was a certain boy you had to find. You stood up grabbing your purse. Jeno skated his way to you opening the door to the rink and coming to your side concerned.

“Your leaving? Why so soon?” He asked nicely turning to see if his friends were watching. They were so when he turned back to you he frowned. You sighed forming an apologetic smile on your lips. “I’m sorry. I really have to go. I have an exam tomorrow and I really need to study,” you said moving to walk past him but he stopped you grabbing hold of your arm. He leaned close to your ear lips grazing over your skin.

“You better not be running off to work on your little revenge plan. Because if I remember correctly on a certain Sunday brunch in your childhood bedroom I warned you what would happen if I find out you doing anything you not supposed to be,” he warned. You yanked your arm away looking him in his dark eyes.

“I said I was studying. And besides Jeno do you really want to warn me so out in your open? Where anyone can see you or hear you. Look that them,” you leaned in taking his chin in your hands and pointing his head in the direction of his friends all watching the two of you.

“One wrong move. One slip and I’ll make sure everyone here believes you hurt me got it?” You asked a smile on your tongue. He scoffed stepping back from you. “You know what you’re right, you should probably go. I have some things I need to take care of,” he said as he walked back to the rink skating with his friends. You brushed off his comment making your way out of the rink.

Once the door closed you instantly made your way down the hallway. Students seeing the glare in your eyes and nostrils that flared stepped aside saving themselves from your wraith. You turned a corner spotting a certain friend of Jisung’s speaking with a fellow classmate. You walked over to him nudging his friend to the side and grabbing onto the other guy's shirt.

“Where is Jisung?” You asked him eyes glaring into his. He put his hands up shaking his head glasses shifting.

“I don’t know-“

“Don’t like to me Doyoung. Where is he?” You asked narrowing your eyes. Your brows furrowed as he scrambled his words. “Why?” He asked nervously fumbling with the straps on his book bag.

“He owes me something. Now tell me!” You demanded Doyoung’s friend running off. Doyoung shook in your grasp looking at every else but your eyes. You shook him again heels clanking on your floor. He put his hand up in defense. He always dreamed of you approaching him but not like this.

“In the library-“ he finally said through pants. You let him go causing him to stumble but he didn’t fall. He adjusted his glasses and fixed his button-up as he watched your hips sway down the hallway to the library. His nerdy friend came back patting Doyoung’s shoulder.

“Was it everything you hoped?” He asked jokingly. Doyoung shrugged him off. “Oh, you didn’t run away?” He spat back. The boy just shook his head sucking his teeth.

The trip to the library, while on the other side of the building, was rather quick. You practically flew there with how quickly your legs took you there. You opened the doors head already doing circles around the seemingly crowded space. You swiped your ID gaining access to the space and moving past a group of girls who were just walking into the space. You walked farther in not seeing him at a desk on the main floor. So you went upstairs a disappointed huff leaving your lips when you failed to find him again. After an unsuccessful trip upstairs you began checking the aisles.

He wasn’t in Fiction.

Or Mystery.

Or Romance.

Nor was he in Si-Fi.

You were about to give up until you reached historical fiction where you found the boy in the grey hoodie sitting on the floor, reading a nonfiction book and headphones in his ear. You smiled walking over to him. When you stood tall above him he still hadn’t noticed your presence. You sighed bending down to his level knees touching your chest. You leaned forward grabbing one of the headphones and removing it from his ear.

“Hi,” you said quietly. He turned to your neutral lips forming a smile. “Oh hey,” he said taking off his other headphone. You smile nose scrunching in the process. Jisung smiled back but it slowly started to fade when he realized you were pissed. He immediately grabbed his bookbag stuffing his books in his bag. His headphones fell to the ground dragging on the floor as he ran around the corner. You turned walking the other way reaching the opposite end of the large book shelf. Jisung stopped in his tracks turning the other way.

He ran to the back of the shelves with nowhere to turn but the way he came. He calmed his breathing placing his hand on his chest. He checked the path seeing it empty. With a sigh of relief, he picked his headphones up stuffing them in his bookbag. You could see him scrambling around his bag.

You appeared from the shadows brown-heeled boots silent against the navy blue carpet. You stepped closer to the carpet doing you the favor and keeping the clink in your shoes quiet. You stepped closer to him, still not taking notice of your presence. Until he saw your boots, then your legs. His eyes scanned your frame upwards passing your waist and collarbone soon meeting your eyes.

He went to take off but you grabbed the strap of his bookbag yanking him back causing him to stumble onto a bookshelf. His back lay flat and his legs wide holding his balance. He looked up at you worried expression on his face. His book bad starting to fall from his shoulders. You wasted no time trapping him arms holding onto the bookshelf behind him closing him in. You stared deep into his eyes a huff leaving your lips.

"What did you tell Jeno?" you asked chewing on the side of your mouth. Jisung shook his head bringing his hands up in defense.

"Nothing. I swear," he said anxiously his eyes doing their best to maintain contact with yours. You grabbed onto the collar of his hoodie bringing him closer to you. His bookbag fell to the ground in the process. You glared into his eyes nostrils flaring.

"Don't lie to me Jisung. I know you said something. How else would he start to catch on?" you said growing impatient. You didn't want to confront him this way but if Jisung really did tell Jeno anything what choice did you have to get the truth?

He shook his head again. "Y/n I swear I did nothing," he said. Your lips form a tight line. You looked closely into his eyes searching for any sight of hesitation. When you couldn't find anything you let him go letting him hit the book shelf again. You viciously picked his bookbag from the floor placing it on his shoulder. When it touched his shoulder you leaned closer meeting his ear.

"I find out your lying to me I will ruin you," you warned letting the strap fall on his skin. Once it landed you turned around and walked away leaving Jisung alone, in the dark part of the library.

"Do you think he really could have something to do with it?" Wendy asked you as she walked beside you towards a bench at the hockey game. You were no stranger to these games, being Ten is on the team. People knew you were coming to the game. They even created a seat close up just for you. It also drove in a larger crowd. Most people come to see you, maybe even talk to you if they have the chance to.

However, after Si Cheng's little lie, people started to look at you differently. Si Cheng based on the universities ranking was bars below you. If you could pick someone to beneath you then what made you different from them?

This hockey game would be your first public appearance after you decided to not attend the Halloween party. People were waiting to see what you'd do next. They knew you were not one to be played with which is why they kept gossip short and only talked when they had left campus. Most people lost the respect they had for you when the rumors came out. Others fought to not believe such rumors, you'd never choose someone like him to take over your father's business.

Jeno made his way over to you as you made your way to your seat. When you went to sit down there was another girl in your seat. Wendy went up to her tapping her shoulder. "Uh you are in her seat," she commented blankly. The girl turned looking you up and down before she turned back to her friends scoffing, flipping her hair, and laughing with her friends. Wendy gasped a surprised look on her face. She went to launch herself at the girl but you stopped her.

"Wait," you told suddenly pointing at Jeno.

"Let her have the seat," you said loud enough for the girl to her. She turned to her friends sitting beside her ready to defend her. She turned crossing her arms over her chest a small tilt in her head and a smirk on her pink glossed lips. "It's just a chair," you said with a sly smirk feeling Jeno come up behind you.

Jeno would be your ticket back to the top. If you wanted to destroy Yuta, Jaehyun, and Johnny you had to retake your place. Getting the lesser like Doyoung, Mark and the other friends they have would be easier than Jaemin, Haechan, and Yangyang combined. But Jeno, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Yuta were held high at your school. The only way you can get them is if you make it to the top and Jeno was your ticket.

So you'd let him have his fun. Let him think he was controlling you, turning you into his obedient, pretty little girlfriend. Let him think he would be the man you married after university so your father's company would be his. You smirked feeling his hands wrap around your waist and the girls in front of you watching with wide eyes.

Jeno's downfall would be your greatest.

The girl perked up standing in front of the bench. She cleaned the seat with her hands. "I was just keeping it warm for you," she said quietly a fake smile on her lips. She and her friends rushed away. You smiled turning to place a kiss on Jeno's lips catching everyone's attention. Everyone Oooed and cheered for the two of you. When you pulled away you saw how surprised and red Jeno was. Some guy even patted Jeno's back proud of the captain.

You smiled stepping away to take your seat.

"I know your secret," you whispered to Jeno who laid in between your legs. You had left the hockey game once it finished. The Dinosaurs had yet another game this season. Jeno drove you back to your apartment. You invited him upstairs letting him stay for a while. After all, he did want to celebrate your first public appearance, not only for you but for the two of you being a couple.

"What's that?" he asked laying his cheek on your exposed thigh. You let your hand in his hair slowly detangle from his skin.

"You're a virgin," you said softly. You removed your hand from his hair feeling his cheek grow warm on your skin. His eyes widened as he sat up using his arms as balance. He scoffed turning away from you. "I'm not," he protested. You smirked letting out a chuckle and crawling over to him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he couldn't help but let his hands roam your bare skin. Molding at your plush thighs for comfort.

"Don't lie baby I know," you said in his ear using one of your hands to wrap around his chest and the other to softly play with his hair. He relaxed under your touch shutting his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp. "How?" he hushed your nails putting him in a trance.

"I overheard a few girls. Just talk," you whispered into his ear. He hummed laying his back on your chest. Your hand that wrapped around his body made its way to the hem of his shirt. You played with it silently asking for him to take it off. He listened leaning forward for a moment allowing you to remove his t-shirt. He laid back on your front bare chest rising up and down. His sculpted frame is hot under your touch.

"I can fix that," you whispered in his ear placing a small kiss on his lobe. Your hand glided down his firm chest reaching the waistband of his sweatpants. You pulled back the cloth watching both his face and your hand disappear into his pants. He groaned loudly bucking his hips into your hand. You squeezed his bare cock feeling it get harder into your hand. His hands that gripped your thighs held on tighter his nails digging into your skin. You squeezed him again cupping him in your hand.

He bit his lip becoming fully hard in your palm. "Fuck," he cursed once your hand wrapped around his dick. Fingers gathering his precum and spreading it around his shaft. His slick in your hand coaxing his veiny, thick cock. He let his head fall back in your embrace mouth falling open as you jerked him.

"Fuck baby girl just like that," he moaned biting his lip. You smirked seeing him get all worked up and ready to take you. He let his bottom lip free when you jerked your hand even faster gripping onto the base of his cock to the tip. He rutted his hips into your fist using one of his hands to lower down his pants freeing his dick from its restrains.

"Fuck baby girl I'm gonna cum," he moaned a pornographic moan. Never in his life did a hand job feel so good. You could feel him twitch in your hand making you stop. He groaned frustrated so close to his release all for it to be stolen away by you. His eyes fluttered open readjusting to the light in your dimly lit bedroom.

"Jeno baby," you teased rubbing his shoulder. Again he relaxed into your touch rolling his neck as you rubbed and molded the most tense parts of his body. You leaned into his ear your breath fanning his neck. "Yes," he responded eyelashes dusting his cheeks.

"Let me fix your problem. I know you think about it," you teased with a lick of your teeth. You wrapped yourself around him tighter drawing him back into your embrace. "I know you touch yourself thinking about what it must feel like to be inside a warm, wet, and tight cunt," you kissed his neck feathering his skin with your lashes. He shuddered at the feeling his whole body tense for a moment.

"And I want to give that to you, especially now that I'm your girlfriend, you whispered lips leaving his skin. You pulled your whole body away removing your top completely as we as your bra throwing both pieces of clothing to the side. You laid on your pillows using them to rest on the small of your back. Jeno turned to you lips parted seeing only half of your naked frame on display.

"I want to give you everything," you said slowly spreading your legs apart for him. His jaw dropped instantly falling onto your bed becoming eye level with your glistening pussy. He went to lean forward, just to taste but two of your fingers stopped it pushing his forehead away. You shook your head a slight purse in your lips.

"Not tonight," you said watching him start to feel nervous. Overall Jeno came off as a confident guy. A man with some much to lose but a care in the world. He knows exactly what he wants and knows exactly how he's going to get it. This was something he had always wanted, he just couldn't believe he was going to get it.

After all, he may solely want you because of your father's company but it was still you he'd sleep with. He had to be memorable.

He licked his lips completely removing his sweatpants and boxers both falling off the bed. As he removed his clothes you pulled a condom out from your dresser handing it to him. You ripped it open allowing him to remove it from the package. He placed it around his angry red cock still starved of pleasure and aligned it at your entrance.

You smiled taking his dick in your hands and pushing it inch by inch past your tight hole. You kept yourself together but on the inside your pussy was screaming. Jeno was not only veiny but thick, you felt like your walls would bust. But the stretch was so deliciously amazing you wouldn't even mind it. You could hear your wetness squish agasint the base of his cock that slide inside you. Weighing inside of your body you moved further down just so he'd fit deeper inside you.

Once he rested himself inside you, you tapped his thigh so he could start moving. He did, slowly building up his own pace. His mind blank only thinking of how you felt and his own pleasure. He wanted to move faster completely lose his mind in your tight cunt but he saw the look on your face when he pushed himself fully inside. You winced feeling slight pain by the stretch. So he moved slowly until you said you were ready.

When you gave him the okay he sped up his pace. "Fuck baby," you moaned feeling his cock graze your velvet walls. Your wetness coating his dick, slipping in and out of you. Leaning forward he captured your lips with his. He moaned into your mouth feeling you clench around him. You were still getting used to him being inside you.

You pulled away from his lips head falling back in bliss releasing out an earthy groan erupting from your chest. You felt tingles down to your toes with the reach he had in you. He gripped onto your waist biceps flexing when he quickly rutted his hips into you. His pelvis rubbing against your clit. "Fuck baby girl I'm not gonna last long," He groaned slipping more cursed from his plumped lips. He whimpered feeling you squeeze around him again.

"Cum baby it's okay," you said easing him through his first time. His shut and mouth fell open as he released a series of groans slipping into the condom. You are not too far behind drowning his cock in your slick release. He pulled out slowly. You gasped inhaling for the first time since his entire dick was inside you. He chuckled hair falling onto his forehead body drenched in sweat.

Your body is covered in sweat too. He removed the condom throwing it in the trash. He went to place a kiss on your cheek but you stopped him. You turned to him grabbing his cheek and forcing him to look at you. You smirked a vile look in your eyes.

"Now I own you," you said darkly. He raised a brow trying to break free from your grip. He raised a brow hand coming up to your arm to remove him but it was no use most of his strength drained. "What?" he managed to ask through breaths. "I own you remember?" he told you.

You shook your head sitting up slowly. "You seem to not understand so let me explain it to you," you began.

"You think you know me so well. I'm a spoiled girl whose only purpose in life is to use people for her entertainment. But you're wrong," you say letting him go and throwing his chin. He flexed his jaw hearing a small crack. He turned to you watching you disappear into the bathroom. He waited for a moment seeing you left. He went to open the door but you beat him opening the door wearing one of your red laced robes.

"My father is one of the most powerful men in the world currently and your father is nothing but one of his more accomplished workers with a few gold medals under his belt. But he's nothing like my dad and while that doesn't bother me and could care less about the power, you do," you said eyeing him. You walked over to a small wooden cabinet in the far corner of your room pulling out a small bottle of wine and pouring two cups. You handed Jeno one seeing while you were away he put only his pants back on.

You sipped it and placed it down on your vanity. Jeno held his glass in his hand only bringing it to his lips when you did.

"So?" he commented. "I know your secrets. I could ruin you," he reported defensively.

"And I know your wants," you said calmly with a perk of your brow. "I know what you so truly desire. I also know everything you got to lose how even threatening me is risky for you," you took a pause crossing your arms over your chest. "You like to believe you are at my status but in reality, you are just a boy like your sister and some of your friends who just living off Daddy's money. You not different from us, from me," you said picking up your glass and taking a sip.

"And I know how much that money means to you. Don't make me take it away," you said this time less calm and more stern. You had to drill it in this man's brain that you were serious about this. No way would you let Lee Jeno ruin everything you were walking towards because he had some said rich boy fantasy about becoming even more powerful than he already was.

"What do you want then? For us to break up?" he asked setting his glass down knuckles finally turning back from white to their original color. You shook your head. "No. That remains the same. The only thing I ask is for you to be my pretty, noncurious, little obedient boyfriend," you said with a chuckle. He huffed lips forming a tight line.

"Understand?" you asked. He chewed the inside of his mouth rolling his eyes. He nodded walking over to grab his shirt. "Oh, my lovely," you called back seeing him now fully dressed. "What?" he asked a gruff in his voice.

"Don't tell anyone," you warned nicely. He brushed you off leaving you alone but listened to your demand. You hummed hearing your door lock on the way back to your room. Your dog jumped onto your bed as you put on a movie watching it as you finished your wine. Eyes glued to the screen for about ten minutes before you heard your doorbell ring. You walked over to your front door your dog by your side.

You checked the peephole seeing a familiar boy standing outside your door. You sighed opening the door to a sad Jisung. Your dog almost immediately jumps to greet him at the door. She made him smile for a brief moment before his eyes met yours. He refused to let his eyes wander around your frame only concealed by a red laced robe.

He had more important things to tell you.

You leaned against your front door poking the inside of your mouth with your tongue. "What?" you asked him. He sighed eyes shifting to your eyes.

"I know who's been talking to Jeno. I also know who he plans on spilling to next," he said in a rush. You widened your eyes taking his hand and pulling him inside your apartment the door locking behind him.

Time was slowly starting to run out for you.

Looks like Mark wouldn't have to wait as long as you hoped.

To Be Continued...

I hope you all enjoyed part 5 of my 10-part series Easy A! I wanted to change things up in this part to give Y/n a little scare lol. Overall thank you so much for reading and see you all in Part 6.

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Tags: @hengicumdump @sexygrass @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @ethelia @notevenheretbh1 @scarfac3 @toroufriteh @renyoungrecs @yumekowhore

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Vaincre

part v

cw: homophobic encounter.

November

November shadows,

shade November change

November spells sweet memory,

the season blue remains

“Lo!” Finn called. “Guess who just got traded to the Rags.”

Cool dread spun its way into Logan’s chest at full force. He felt the point of one of his hips knock against the counter. “Quoi?”

“Marshy and Morgs!” Finn said, and the appeared around the corner into the kitchen, red hair a mess. “Like, together. Like us.”

“These were Harvard teammates, yeah?” Leo asked, spooning sugar into Logan’s coffee.

“Like us?” Logan said. “They’re dating?”

“Oh, no,” Finn laughed. “I just meant together, like, at the same time. Around the same time, I guess I should say.”

“Wow,” Logan nodded, which prompted Finn to imitate the way he said wow, drawing out the W’s. Logan smiled, lifting his cup to his mouth. “We could visit them over the next free weekend maybe.”

“Damn, that’d be a blast to the past.”

“What are they like?” Leo asked, leaning into Logan’s side.

“You’d love Will. Will Morgan, Morgs,” Logan said. “Really level-headed, probably the nicest person I know. Marshy…”

“Percy Marshall is one crazy motherfucker,” Finn said, and poured his own cup of coffee, black.

Logan leaned into mock-whisper to Leo. “And Finn gets insane when they’re together.”

Finn shot him a look, but continued. “Best way to say it. He’ll party until the sun, he’s crazy superstitious—worse than Cap and Loops combined—and he’s also,” Finn slid onto a stool. “One of the hardest working guys you’ll ever met. Probably the hardest working.” Finn’s smile was one Logan’s favorite one, made even more so by the fact that he got to see it directed at Leo. “Until I met you, that is, Nut.”

Leo let out a pleased laugh and let Logan brush a hand through his hair. “Well, they’re in our division now. I’ll get to meet them.”

“Oh, man, we’re in for a fucking treat when we play New York next,” Finn grinned. “Gonna hit the town hard.”

Leo snorted. “You guys might.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I know everyone we need to know.”

“And I can finally tell you,” Logan began. “That the first time you dragged me around New York knowing ever person you saw, I loved you.”

Finn blushed a little and let Leo pull him to settle in the V of his legs from where he was leaning back against the counter. “Well, it’ll be nice to see them.”

Logan nodded, but part of his chest pulled. He cleared his throat. “Ouais. Also…”

When he paused, Leo tapped their socked toes together encouragingly.

Logan shrugged and looked down into his coffee. He thought of Finn’s quick breaths when they took the Cup back to Harvard. He thought of kissing him in their old room. He thought of everything before. Percy and Will were a part of all of that. Not directly, maybe, but Logan knew what seeing them again would do.

“Memories,” Finn said, and Leo nudged him.

“Don’t say it for him.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Memories,” Logan agreed. “Good and bad.”

Remus missed the net three times in fifteen minutes, and only barely managed to keep himself from breaking his stick against the boards. He would be embarrassed afterwards if he had, but could it really be so much worse than the way that he felt now?

He accepted Thomas’ fist bump as he passed him going into the locker room and sat down heavily in his stall. The game had been close, but the Devils had won out in the end. He glanced at some of the assistant coaches, who were murmuring together. There was no guarantee it was about him, but it still felt as thought it was. Sirius was talking with Evgeni, Evgeni’s loud laugh warming up the room. Remus stripped out of his sweaty uniform quickly and was headed for the showers with a towel around his waist when someone slapped him on the back.

“It’s decided,” Logan’s accent came from beside him. He wasn’t bothering with his towel, which was slung over his bare shoulder. The fleur-de-lis tattoo on his hip—and everything else—was on full display. “Me and Talker are taking you out tonight.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean exactly?”

Logan just smiled. “No boyfriends. No hockey. We have a day off tomorrow, so no pressure. Just some drinks.”

“And some pool, maybe,” Thomas said, coming up to Remus’ other side. “What do you say, Loops? Fun, eh?”

“Okay, one of you is butt-naked right now and the other is in a three-piece suit. I’m going to say yes and shower, all right?”

Thomas gave a whoop, and Remus couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he dropped his towel in the change room and turned on the hot water. He felt like a sling-shot lately, being catapulted one way, and then in the opposite direction. He guessed he should feel thankful that his friends could pick him up like that, and he did, but another part of him caved in beneath the sheer affection.

I’m letting you down.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, and looked over his shoulder when he felt a gentle, quick kiss against the back of his neck.

“Bonsoir,” Sirius said with a soft smile, and went to the shower head beside him.

“Hi,” Remus smiled back. “Beautiful goal tonight.”

He watched the water lace over Sirius’ tan skin, darkening his hair further as he pushed it back, away from his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Olli,” Finn called across the showers, making Olli look over at him. “You’re fucking beautiful, man.”

Olli just squeezed shampoo into his palm. “I know that, Harzy.”

Sirius’ laugh echoed through the showers, joined by others, and Remus let it warm around him like the steam.

“Apparently Tremz and Talkie are taking me out tonight,” he said to Sirius as they walked back into the locker room.

“Tremz,” Sirius called over to him. “Ouch.”

“Pas de capitaines,” Logan waved him off and went back to looking at whatever Leo was showing him on his phone. Sirius laughed and looked back to Remus.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Wake me up when you come in if I’m asleep.”

“And go to bed without a kiss?” Remus glanced down at the towel slung low across Sirius’ hips, then back up to his bright silver eyes. “I’d never.”

Sirius smiled and kissed him, but Remus felt the unspoken settling between them. Sirius had stopped bringing up wanting to help with Remus’ shortcomings on the ice. Remus knew he had brought that upon himself with refusals after refusals to talk about it, but now it felt more like a thing. An object. An ugly vase in the corner of the room.

Maybe he really did need to go out tonight.

Thomas settled in his stall beside Remus. “We’re gonna go to Red’s, yeah?”

Remus nodded as he pulled his gray t-shirt over his head. He held up his dark jeans. “I can wear this, right?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m not wearing this thing,” Thomas picked at the lapel of his suit. “Noelle already screen shotted the snapchat I sent her. Why keep it on now?”

Remus just laughed. “All right, Talkie. Lead the way.”

Red’s bar was shoved up against the side of a larger block of buildings in Gryffindor. Remus glanced up, one or two stars were poking through the increasingly cooling loud cover. Inside it was warm, though. Foggy in the way some rooms get when there are lots of happy people in them. Logan had chosen a long-sleeved, dark gray cotton shirt, so thin that Remus could see each ridge of his defined muscles and his necklace, too.

“What the fuck happens when that thing gets wet?” Remus snorted, plucking at it as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I’ll pretend we had a fight,” Thomas said. “Throw a drink on you, find out.”

Logan just eyed them suspiciously as they leaned against the bar. “You guys are strange.”

Thomas just flagged the bartender, stretching the white material of his thin knit sweater. He ordered a whiskey, Logan a rum and coke, and Remus opted for a lighter gin and tonic. They still had a game on barely 72 hours. Not that anyone was that much of a light weight, but he didn’t want any assumptions being made, any photographs taken that could put him in a worse light than he already was.

“I know what this is, you know,” he said after Logan and Thomas’ intense COD debate had gone on too long. They both looked over at him, the picture of innocence. Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Media’s a bitch,” Thomas said. “That’s all this is. Hockey’s hard. You can’t help that you live with Cap, who makes it all look like a piece of cake.”

Logan laughed. “I think Cap would disagree. He stinks after games, mon dieu.”

Remus and Thomas shared a look. “And you don’t?”

“Finn likes it,” Logan smirked. “Gets him going.”

“Are you sure its the stench and not the muscles?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Logan waved him off. “I’m not talking about this with you two. We’re here for Loops.”

Remus groaned. “Guys…it’s not…I mean every player goes through this, right?”

They both nodded.

“Sure,” Thomas said. “But it doesn’t help that some people—“

“Assholes,” Logan amended.

“Right. It doesn’t help that some assholes don’t think you deserve to be here.”

Remus tilted his glass towards him. “Yeah.”

“We just think…” Logan began uncertainly, tongue poking out to wet his full bottom lip. “Look, I love Cap. He’s like a brother. But he’s intense. For him…sometimes hockey solves hockey.”

Remus wavered. “Yes and no.”

“We just thought you might want some other ears,” Thomas offered a smile. “I mean we can’t offer a feel good night of lovin’ to make you feel better…”

Remus snorted. “Right. You know, Talkie, that’s exactly what Sirius calls it.”

Thomas cracked up, too. “But we can offer drinks. And, you know…”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Ears?”

“Right,” Thomas nodded. “Look at Tremzy over here, finishing my sentences.”

Remus let his smile die down a little. “I…thanks, guys. I mean, I love talking to Sirius, but I also…he is the Captain. He’s a representation of all of us. I feel a little…” Remus took a slow breath, not sure if he was even ready for the words to come out of his mouth. “I feel a little like I’m letting him, and you all, down sometimes.”

“Aw, Loops,” Thomas said, voice softened.

“I know,” Remus sighed. “It’s just…it creeps in sometimes.”

Remus watched Logan swallow. “I get it. If there’s anything I can understand it’s guilt.”

“Tremz,” Remus said comfortingly. “I guess I should listen to my own advice here, but it’s not your fault. I can be ears, too, you know.”

“Is this…” Thomas said quietly. “Carrot?”

They both stared at him. “Carrot?”

“Code names,” Thomas whispered, even though the tables were noisy and the bar was somewhat empty.

Logan laughed a little, and nodded.

Remus waited. Logan gathered thoughts slowly, carefully. Interrupting, he’d learned while talking with Leo, tended to scatter them. He was also happy that the spotlight wasn’t entirely on him anymore.

“I found him at Harvard,” Logan began, swallowing dryly despite the drink in his hand. “And I was a mess. And then we spent that year apart, and I was a mess. And then I found him again, in Gryffindor, and I was a mess. I fell in love with Leo and I was a mess.” He looked at them, eyes pleading, then back down at his drink. “I am so, so happy now. It worked out. I can’t believe my luck. I wake up so fucking happy every morning. Every little look at them, my life with them, is incredible.”

Remus and Thomas waited some more. Thomas sent Remus a half smile across him, then leaned his cheek on his fist.

Finally, Logan finished. “But I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t a mess without them.” He closed his eyes, exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it really does. Tremz, I get it.” He tilted his glass, making his ice cubes stir the liquid inside. “You’re someone when you’re with who you love. But you gotta be your own someone, too.”

“Ouais,” Logan was already nodded. “Right, like…Re, you’re you, no matter what. Leo, he’s the same way. Finn, too.”

Remus sighed. “I’m not so sure right now. But I think what you’re saying makes sense. Tremz, you’re allowed to want that for yourself. It’s not a slight to the boys. At all.”

Logan laughed, still laced with frustration. He rubbed at his eyes. “But I don’t even know what I’m asking for.”

Remus smiled. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve got a pretty level-headed duo in your corner. I mean, Finn’s Finn.”

Thomas snorted. “Might take him a second.”

Logan smiled and it was fond. “Yeah.”

“But Leo…” Remus snapped his fingers. “He’ll get it. They both will.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at the bar. “I’m not asking for space. I don’t want space. I don’t want anything to change I just want to stop feeling like I’ll crash and burn by myself.”

“Me too,” Remus admitted. “Maybe in a different way, but…me too.”

“I don’t know if I feel like I’m gonna crash,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “But hey, life’s tough sometimes.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Friends.”

They clinked their glasses together, laughing, the conversation turning to organizing a pick-up game in the park that weekend—if it didn’t snow.

“Gotta use the big WC, gents,” Thomas said after a while, picking up his crutches. “Then pool?”

“Who the hell calls it that?” Remus snorted.

“Me,” Thomas called over his shoulder, politely excusing his way through the crowd with his charming smile and causing a few longing looks to follow him at his back.

Logan drained the last of his rum and coke. “You don’t feel like Cap’s putting pressure on you, do you?”

Remus looked at him, eyes widening for a moment. “God, no. No, he’s been nothing but supportive. It’s mostly me, I think. He even wants to talk about it. Sometimes I just…can’t.”

Logan nodded. “Good. No, good, I just thought I’d ask. When I first met him, he’d get like that with me sometimes. Wanting to run extra drills or talk through tape. I snapped at him for it a bit. This was before he was really who he is now.”

“Parents were lingering in him,” Remus nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

A man came to lean against the bar beside Remus, then, and Remus shot him a smile that he hoped looked friendly rather than uneasy. The guy was really in his space. He shared a look with Logan, who’s shoulders were rounded a little in alert, green eyes narrowed in on the guy.

“You’re Lupin, eh?” the man said.

Remus sighed softly, looking down at his now watery drink. He should’ve known.

“Yep,” he replied, and looked at the man. He had two friends, hovering a little ways back.

“What’s going on this season, huh?”

The worst part was that the man was smiling, as if he thought this conversation was going to go well.

“I mean, I know you’re with the Captain and all,” the man said. “But, I mean…come on. Some of us care about how the team does.”

“Excuse me?” Remus replied.

The man tilted his head, looking mockingly regretful. “It’s not just about you.”

“Okay,” Remus said, keeping his voice flat.

“What he do to get you there?” the man asked, leaning in like they were friends. “I mean, like…some type of reward, or does he already give you those at home?”

Remus flushed. “I think we’re done talking.”

At least his friends had the decency to look a little nervous.

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m just saying.”

“Fuck off, man,” Logan said in a low tone.

“What,” he sneered. “You got yourself a boyfriend, too, Tremblay?”

Logan was on his feet then, stools screeching back, taller than the man, stronger. Remus’ arm shot out against his chest, keeping him and his balled fists back. The man’s friend stepped forward, too.

“Whoa, Mike,” one of the friends said, hesitating. “That’s not why we…that’s not what this is.”

“Oh,” Thomas scoffed, announcing himself as he made his way back to them. He somehow made his crutches and boot look threatening. “Wrong type of harassment for you, my guy?”

The fans’ eyes went large. “Talker…”

Thomas just stared at them, and Remus watched him go from Thomas Walker with his friends to Thomas Walker on the ice, defensemen. Enforcer. “Only my friends call me that. Sit down at your own table or get out.”

Thomas shouldered through them, one crutch landing briefly on Mike’s shoe, who only just bit back a groan. Thomas was all bright, sharp grin as he sat down, leaning his crutches against the bar again. He waved the bartender over, then looked at Mike who was still standing there.

“Do I have say it again for you?” Logan snarled. “Trust me, you don’t want me to.”

Logan sat down slowly as the three men backed up and turned away. Remus pressed a thankful hand to his shoulder, also meant to calm him down a bit.

“Well, that was fun,” Thomas sighed. “Jesus. We take you out to forget about it and those three show up.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said, though his heart was pounding. “I’m surprised that was the first time it happened. Had a close call at the grocery store the other day.”

“Another round?” Logan asked. “Then pool?”

“Ouais,” Remus smiled, in his best impression of Sirius.

Most of November passed without change. Remus felt the stagnant ball of frustration in his stomach. He and Sirius cooked together, slowly mastering more and more recipes. Remus lived for the triumphant look on Sirius’ face when a dish came out just right. He went out with Logan and Thomas, with James and Sirius, Finn and Jackson and Kasey. He never felt more at home than when he was tucked against Sirius’ side at a team dinner, watching Logan toss food into Finn’s mouth from across the table, hollering when he caught it and then ruffling an embarrassed Leo’s hair, who was shushing them.

The weather had officially turned to Gryffindor winter, biting harsher and harsher with each night. It got to the point where Marlene started bugging them all about the Christmas video—for the fans, she kept insisting. Come on guys, it’ll be fun!

Evgeni seemed to be the only one who was truly game for it.

Remus wasn’t unhappy, but the media was growing more and more aggravated with him, the fans’ patience was running thin like ice, and now Arthur had started sending him glancing looks until, finally, he pulled Remus into his office as the boys were packing up.

The ball rolled around Remus’ ribs, fighting for space with his heart, and he sat in the leather chair across from Arthur’s desk.

Arthur took off his glasses, which was a bad sign. He didn’t say anything for a long time and Remus didn’t have the courage to make him.

“I know,” Remus finally said, and then his throat choked up. “I’m…”

“I don’t want any apologies,” Arthur said. “And, God, Lupin, I didn’t bring you in here to yell at your so get that look off your face.”

Remus blinked through the scarce relief and looked down at his hands.

“Media’s being real tough, I know,” Arthur sighed. “I know. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. “I’m just…it’s not connecting, I…I don’t know. Maybe I could put in more time one-on-one with one of the coaches. Or ground work with the trainers. I know we’re about to go on the road. Maybe tomorrow morning before practice.”

Arthur hesitated, then nodded. “If you’d like. But overworking yourself isn’t gonna help if that’s not the issue. Frankly, I don’t think skill is the issue. You’re a beautiful skater out there. You’re wicked fast and can misdirect hits like I’ve never seen. But…”

“No net,” Remus mumbled.

Arthur looked regretful. “No net.”

Remus nodded. “I’m working on it. I’m doing everything I can.”

“I don’t doubt that, Remus. Really. Don’t think I do. I’ll be seeing you at the Dumais Thanksgiving, yeah?” Arthur asked.

Remus nodded, spared a smile. “Of course.”

Arthur smiled back and rose. He clapped Remus on the back as he opened the door to his office again. “Good. Try and relax over the break, okay? I know it’s short, but sometimes its less work that pays off. It doesn’t always have to be more.” He looked up. “Ah, another young rascal I’ve had to say that to.”

Remus looked up to see Sirius’ smile, his dark hair curling against his neck, but otherwise tucked under a thick black winter hat. Every muscle in Remus’ body eased at the sight of him. He wanted to wrap himself up in Sirius, tuck himself inside of his winter coat and never leave.

“Cap,” Arthur gave him a nod. “See you for Turkey. Who you’ve got for the big game?”

Sirius just shrugged. “American football. Who cares?”

Arthur made a wounded noise—and another one came from Leo and Thomas down the hall as they were bundling up for the cold. Evgeni was holding Thomas’ crutches for him as Jackson helped him into his coat. Remus cracked up and took the warm palm Sirius held out. They walked down the hallway that smelled familiar and warm, under toned by the scent of carpet and cleaner that, had it been any stronger, would have been unpleasant, but it just added to the familiarity.

The garage door rattled shut behind them as Sirius unlocked their back door, letting them into their warm kitchen. Remus shook out of his coat, hanging it in the closet and rubbing his hands together. With his coat and bag, he tried to drop everything else at the door. This was his and Sirius’ space. This wasn’t a rink, or a locker room, or the press room. Theirs. The word was warmer than the heat Sirius had set to come on a half hour before they got home.

“I’m starving,” he said. “What do you feel like? I maybe want pasta.”

“I feel like you,” came the reply from behind him.

Remus’ smile was slow and he turned to see a glint in Sirius’ eye. “What is it, the cold weather? You’ve been all riled up after games lately.”

Sirius just grinned, hands squeezing Remus’ hips. “I love watching you out there.” He pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek, his neck and his nose, between each phrase. “I love your face, I love your feet, I love your shoulders, and the way you bite the finger of your glove while you watch the game between shifts.” The kisses got considerably more heavy, lingering and accompanied by the the brush of a tongue and teeth. “I love the way you cradle a puck and the way you tape your stick. The way your hair sticks to your neck.”

Remus just smiled, eyes closed. “I’ve been playing like shit.”

“Nu-uh,” Sirius said, and Remus whined a little at the next nip, letting Sirius rock him back against the kitchen counter. “Slumps are normal. You play amazing. Just no points. Shit and slumps,” Sirius said, and Remus’ mouth went dry as he was lowering himself to his knees. “Shit and slumps are different.”

Remus let out a laugh. “Aren’t those the words to turn a guy on.”

Sirius just grinned and bit at his pants zipper. “I love you.”

“Better choice.”

Sirius carefully pulled Remus’ zipper down. “Can I? Here?”

Remus only reply was tugging Sirius’ hat free to get at his hair, the thick strands weaving between his fingers. He could already feel himself getting interested, pressing against the slip of his boxers by Sirius’ proximity alone.

“Sirius Black,” Remus sighed as Sirius nuzzled against him. He stroked over his hair, overwhelmed with how much every part of Sirius meant to him. “I love you.”

Sirius took one of the hands Remus had in his hair by and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Remus let Sirius’ mouth fuzz his mind out, moaning softly at his hollowed out cheeks, laughing at the gentle nips to his hips and thighs. After, Sirius kissed him against the counter until both of their stomachs growled. Remus pressed his mouth against Sirius’ flushed hot cheek.

“I feel like a million bucks, thanks, baby.”

Sirius just smiled, tucking himself away.

It was true. Remus felt home. Settled. Almost as if he could forget the conversation today. Maybe even like he wanted to go down the the basement rink, just for fun, which he hadn’t felt like in a while.

“D’accord,” Remus sing-songed. “We have pasta or chicken or both.”

Sirius grinned. “Both.”

They were mostly quiet as they cooked, bumping hips, iPhone playing softly through their speakers. Remus watched the way Sirius kept his fingers carefully curled away from the knife, like Remus’ mom had taught him that summer. His tongue peaked out of the corner of his mouth, the same way it did when he was carrying a puck up the ice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sirius asked softly as Remus minced garlic.

Remus glanced over at him, then kept his eyes on his fingers, so close to the sharp blade. “Um. Coach says it’s not my fault. He says I’m playing well. It’s just…pointless.”

“C’est pas—”

“No, not like pointless, like, pointless. Like I’m not getting net.”

“Ah.”

They smiled at each other, Remus’ a little shakier.

“Yeah.”

I feel like I’m letting you down.

“I feel…” Remus began, and the words caught. “Um. I mean, it’ll get better. It has to.”

Sirius’ expression flickered, but he nodded. “Mhm.”

“Do you feel like a white sauce?” Remus asked, turning to the refrigerator. “Go well with the chicken.”

“Sure,” Sirius nodded. “Sounds perfect, mon loup.”

Remus took a long breath as he opened the refrigerator doors, maybe taking longer than necessary to find the half & half. He was angry at himself. He didn’t know why the words were sticking to the back of his throat. He didn’t want pity, he supposed. He didn’t want Sirius to feel like he had to comfort him. Remus closed his eyes.

He’d do better.

Leo and Finn had their shoulders pressed together, each with their own book in their hands, when Logan opened the apartment door.

“Got the cream,” Logan raised the shopping back, and Leo all but leapt from the cushions.

“Yeah you do,” Finn said without looking up.

“Thank you,” Leo slid on his socks in his rush to get to Logan. He pressed his palms to Logan’s cold cheeks, kissing him in a quick burst. “Thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Logan smiled as Leo scurried back into the kitchen to finish making his part of the the American Thanksgiving dinner Pascal was hosting.

“I can’t believe I ran out,” Leo said, stirring something on the stove.

“It’s fine, Le,” Logan said, shrugging out of his jacket and following him in. “Happy to get you whatever you need.”

Leo turned, a touched pout on his face, and Logan beat him to it this time with a slower kiss of his own. Leo tasted like the caramel he had had them all taste test earlier and Logan licked into his mouth eagerly.

“I love you, too,” Logan mumbled.

Leo’s expression softened in the way it always did when one of them said that. Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck.

“Want to peel sweet potatoes?” Leo asked with a hopeful grin, and Logan laughed.

“Sure, soleil.”

Finn gasped from the couch, eyes on his book, glasses on his nose. “They kissed. I fucking knew they would.”

Leo gasped, too. “No. Harzy, spoilers, you’re faster than me.”

Logan looked between them. “Are you guys reading the same book again, like, next to each other?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, but he was gripping the book like another secret might spill out. “And yes.”

Leo pressed a peeler into his hands with another kiss, this one fast and skittering across his cheekbone.

“I love both of you,” Logan sighed as he picked up the first potato. “You’re weird.”

Finn closed his book without marking his place and heaved himself up with a groan, cracking his back. He came to sit at the bar counter across from where Logan was peeling.

“Thanks for the help, Harz,” Logan said.

“I don’t like it when my hands smell like potato.”

Leo laughed. “Sweetheart, how’d you ever survive on your own?”

“Take out,” Finn and Logan answered at the same time.

“And catering,” Finn added. “I think the NHL is used to boys who can’t cook. Marlene just slid the caterer’s card into my hand without a word.”

Leo just shook his head. “She tried the same thing on me. Honey, please.”

Logan and Finn shared a smile, both turning to gaze at Leo’s back.

“How much time do we have?” Leo asked.

“Like, two hours, babe, you’re good,” Finn said.

“Do I have time to ravish you in your glasses?” Logan asked.

Finn raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, these old things? You want to wear them?”

Logan dropped his peeler and walked around the counter. He spun Finn to face him on the stool and Finn’s feet hooked around his calves, holding him there. “Non.”

Finn smiled, leaning forward to nip at Logan’s bottom lip and pull.

“Tremblay, potatoes.”

Logan groaned and Finn gave his butt a firm slap as he pulled away. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“Uh, hey dad,” Cole cleared his throat. “It’s me. I just um. I’m in Pascal Dumais’ house. Can you believe that? Uh, I just wanted to say…you know, happy Thanksgiving, and all that. Maybe you can come out to a game soon? Yeah…let me know, I can get you tickets. Okay. Okay, see you. Merry—or happy Thanksgiving. Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Cole sighed as he put his phone down and looked around the Dumais’ sitting room. It was tidy, with food laid out every table, ready for guests. Cole, after that phone call, already felt tired.

There was a knock on the doorframe and he turned to see Layla, smiling at him hesitantly. She held out a glass of a deep colored wine. “I thought maybe you’d want some.”

“Oh, I can’t, uh…” Cole began.

Layla snorted. “Me neither, but…” she glanced around the tall-ceilinged living room. “Who’s gonna tell? Dumo? Please.”

Cole laughed a little and took the thin stem from her fingers. “Thank you.”

Layla nodded, bending for a cheese and cracker. “That sounded a little tough. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Cole pocketed his phone. “It’s not really. Well…maybe now it is. But I don’t think of him that way, of this that way. He’s a good father.”

He sounded defensive even to himself and sighed. “When he decides to be.”

“He hard on you?” Layla asked. She took a seat on the couch and Cole glanced around before settling on the ottoman of one of the fat leather chairs. “About all this?”

“Hockey?” Cole said, then laughed. “No. No way, he doesn’t give a shit about ice hockey. My mom got me into hockey. My dad still hopes I’ll be, like, I don’t know…I don’t know what.”

Layla frowned. “It’s not like you could’ve been a money-bags doctor and chose to paint watercolors instead?”

Cole cracked a smile. “Yeah…Yeah, he sort of skipped around a lot before I actually started getting good.”

“Oh,” Layla said softly.

The doorbell rang. And then rang again and again, like someone was jamming their finger into it repeatedly.

“Tremzy!” he heard Katie shriek a moment later.

Warm voices filled the hall.

Cole rose and, after a moment, offered Layla a hand. She smiled, letting him pull her up. “It’s not as sob-story as it sounds.”

“I get it,” Layla nodded. “My older sister skipped altogether when I was little. Still don’t know why. I know it’s not the same but…”

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

Layla just smiled, one of her bright ones, and wrapped her hand—gold rings and all—around his arm. “Come on. Shit’s about to get wild.”

“And delicious,” Cole said, turning towards the smells coming from the kitchen.

Layla laughed, and Cole wanted to hear that sound twenty more times.

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sastrugie · 4 years

Text

john entwistle biography review

ok so first: I didnt really like the biography because I thought it would focus on totally different aspects. John was a musical virtuoso and that hardly ever gets mentioned in the book. But we get exact axccounts on how much money he spent on what day and in which pub he bought which champagne. like wow thanks. The other personal stuff is basic who knowledge you can read in any other Who biography. His autobiographical bits were joy and fun! Maybe the only reason to buy the book in my opinion. He writes totally different than the author...

ANYWAYS: here my fav facts from the book that you probably didnt know before

this is the face of a man who -when his father gave him driving lessons for his 21st birthday as a present- decided driving wasnt really his thing and he spent the money on clothes and parties instead. He never had a drivers license ever and also never desired to have one

the hospital he was born in, was bombarded and destructed one day after his birth

as a child he was really weak and thin and had basically every disease that existed

his family was poor af

his father left the family early and held contact with his son, but soon disappeared with a new family

his stepdad, Gordon, disliked John alot and would ignore him, hated everything John did or said and he let his bad moods out on Johns mother, which caused John to be very silent and observative around the house so that there wouldnt be any trouble

he did everything to please Queenie (his mom) so that there was no fighting, according to Alison

loved drawing and playing but usually alone since he had no friends apart from their dog

he heard a trumpet solo once from a trad jazz band when he was 6 or so and decided he wanted to learn the trumpet

my fav line of the book probably: “despite his own expectations, he passed the exams to go to grammar school” like same

at school he was bullied from the older boys but soon left alone by them because he would fight back with badass comments

he applied for the school band for the trumpet but the tallest guy in the year was chosen (he was the 2nd tallest) which made John mad, but he discovered the french horn

soon he found a friend, mickey brown, at last and he gave him the nickname “ent”

he was so terrible in P.E that he was dismissed with other pupils to play somehwere else, they were called “the hockey misfits” and guess who was among them: Pete Townshend.

yeah as you might know they became besties because they loved music and black humour.

he found himself a gf (alison) and Pete & a school gang (like 4 ppl) and his life seemed to finally get where it should.

his worst subjects were geography and german like wow (im a german geography student lmao)

once they played in a pub and johns stepdad was there and was super angry and gave john a list with his fav pubs and told him “these are the places I never want to hear your fucking music playing”.

after walking home pete decided to switch the guitar and john wanted to become a musician more than ever

Roger found him and John kind of convinced him (it took months apparently) to get Pete into the band and then it all started

he judged the beatles because John Lennons harmonica was “out of tune” in love me do, wow ok you nerd

john started smoking with 20 and was the last one to quit his job for the band and he was against drugs at first (bc he had a “civilized” job) but then decided to give a shit, dyed his hair black, bought cigarettes, smoked dope with pete and did speed too

he wanted to step out of himself and feel good about himself and he was always a fashionnerd so he started buying and trading and selling clothes (he once was dismissed from school bc he wore the school uniform incorrectly)

with 18 or so he was still living at home, had a toy soldier collection and a pet budgie

pete and his college friends made fun of john bc he wasnt a student and still lived at home, although john could have gone to college too and he wanted to, but his stepdad again said no and he had no choice.

he was very awkward and introverted but could open up with his music

he was really into pop art (esp pop art clothes)

was a pseudo mod bc he only liked the fancy clothes and motown music

with the who he found a purpose in his life and finally could be different than ordinary ppl

hated when people touched his hair, he literally hated it

would fuss much about his hair in general

once after a concert they were starving and the room service was alreday home so they had to look on used plates and food wagons and John found a shrimp and said: “who wants to dine with me tonight?” (idk that really made me laugh)

keith moon was john entwistles soulmate and they were the cutest, most iconic and funniest duo ever end of discussion

his amps would soon be called little manhatten bc he had so many bc he wanted to be loud

he actually went to sing at church once when he was like 24 and the band made fun of him then he stopped

in the late 60s he bought a house with alison in a normal neighbourhood and went walking the dogs on sundays and stuff

but he was a party animal and always the last to go

he was really sensitive and cried often according to Alison but only in front of certain people

he would totally step out of his way to please people

when they played at the monterey pop festival they didnt bring their own amps along and john was furious bc he said the american amps are shit and kit was like “no” and john didnt talk to him for the whole festival until their perfomance was over and they had sounded like shit to tell kit “I TOLD YOU SO” thats how extra he was

when he got money he would spend it bc he was so used to being poor that he thought it wouldnt last long and he had to enjoy it NOW

he was always calm and everyone respected him and kit told a story where he entered the room and roger was at keiths throat and and pete was screaming something and john was sitting in the corner cleaning his nails. thats who energy

liked to dance at parties

his fav drink was rémy cognac with 40% and he would drink like 1 bottle alone everyday in his later years...wow dude

he was also gentlemanTM and once paid taxis for girls from london to brighton after a party

once at a wedding the free drinks were out and John just gave the barkeeper his creditcard and said he will pay for all the drinks of the night for everyone (it wasnt his wedding)

Roger once said: “John made smartass comments that deserved a punch in the face” sounds like him yes

he didnt really care about money and always wanted to pay and never told anyone how much things had cost and brought gifts for everyone

soon that ended in a shopping addiction tho and he bought ridiculous things for ridiculous amounts of money

when the who was inactive he sank into depression :(

held the band together during who by numbers & who are you

wrote and played all the quadrophenia horn parts himself

never lost his passion for art and always drawed alot, said Alison

cried when Christopher was born aww

once he saw their manager in an art museum and how he wanted to buy a painting but couldnt afford it, so John bought it secretly and shipped it to said managers home as a gift

We all know John was a huge collector. His most treasured collection was .. wait for it: teapots.

he tried to save Keith from being arrested once and ended up being arrested too lol

wanted to write a scifi concept album but desorted the idea and gave some songs to the who (905) or Pete

was a good cook apparently

When he gave a hug HE was the one who decided when to let go sdfghjk

hated confrontation and would hire other people to tell someone bad news

he spent so much money on dumb shit like wtf

but didnt really care either

probably the master in picking up and seducing girls

he let his stepdad live in the quarwood mansion when he wasnt there but Gordon was still an asshole wtf

the contact to his real dad was really sporadic

when the who ended, it hit him really hard and he didnt know what to do besides partying and buying stuff/hording stuff

was very insecure and selfconscious in the 80s according to Maxene :(

he actually took pete breaking up the who really personal and was sad 24/7

was that kind of guy that said bad stuff about the who but when you said bad stuff he would try to kill you on spot

with cocaine he felt really confident and still like the 60s/70s rockstar he once was but he didnt understand that these times were over and he needed to move on

sometimes went into random pubs with friends and made jam sessions for the guests

he still was generous and loving until he died and tried to play with other bands but it was not the same

he really liked Kenney and hung out with him more than with his wife at some point lmao

was a total giver and people who worked at quarwood would steal money from him but when someone pointed that out he got angry with that person for even suggesting that

was a real softieee (and a huge nerd)

all his friends said that he was shy at first but once you got to know him he would come totally out of himself, was very funny, loved to tell stories, was very very loyal and would try evertyhing to make you laugh aww

all in all a glorious story with a sad ending and he did destroy himself completely, but lets remember that Pete Townshend described old John still as "wonderful, mature and elegant” so lets cling on to that :)

#the who #John Entwistle #band #literature #the ox #mine #pete and rog didnt participate in the bio maybe thats why its hit #*shit #not hit #also you can see: no info about his musical inspiration or werdegang #can not recommend #althought this post might look fun these are the filtered cool stories from like 330 pages #classic rock

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jungshookz · 4 years

Text

nice try, nerd; knj

🤓pairing: kim namjoon x reader

🤓 genre: spooktober day (7/7); librarian!namjoonieverse!!!! namjoon and y/n are adorable as per usual what more do u want

🤓 wordcount: 1.4k

🤓 note: i was originally going to write a werewolf!namjoon drabble but thEN i stumbled across this picture (here’s the source!) and was immediately inspired to do something with librarian!namjoon!!! also i know it’s a hockey jersey in the picture but for the sake of the drabble let’s all agree that it’s a football jersey lol

◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤

“you know that thing that people say, about how the longer you date someone for, the more and more the two of you become the same person?” jimin purses his lips in thought as he watches you touch up your makeup using your little compact mirror

“mhm” you hum absentmindedly and frown when you notice the little dot of mascara on the bridge of your nose

whOops

the two of you are at min yoongi’s annual halloween party and as per usual, jimin was put in charge of drinks (because he genuinely is a greAt bartender) and uh

you don’t know anyone else at this party so obviously you’re going to stick by jimin’s side

aND you get drinks on the house which is great

namjoon’s also supposed to be here but he ended up picking up a late shift at the library which is why he isn’t here yet

you really wanted to do a couple’s costume this year because you’ve never ever had someone to do a couple’s costume with!!! and you had a buNCh of super fun ideas!!

you wanted to keep it pretty basic and you know that namjoon doesn’t like to draw too much attention to himself so you thought it’d be a great idea if the two of you did a nerd x cheerleader kinda thing

obviously it’s the cheesiest thing in the entire world (the moment you suggested it you unconsciously rolled your eyes) but at the same time the cliche is kind of adorable!!!!!

aND most of the time it’s a nerdy girl with a popular guy

so you thought it was sPicy to switch it to nerdy guY with a popular girl

when you talked to namjoon about it he didn’t seem that into it and told you that he was probably just going to roll up wearing his usual clothes since he’s going to be coming to the party straight from the library anD his normal clothes can definitely be categorised into the geekier side of things

and sure, you were a little disappointed at first but you figured out a way to still do a matching couple’s costume

all you had to do was borrow one of namjoon’s cardigans and order a pair of non-prescription thick-framed glasses off amazon and bAM

a couple of nerds! still adorable and still matching!

namjoon was deFinitely more into that idea

plus it probably would’ve taken too much effort to play the bad girl role

red lipstick is tricky to put on

and leather jackets always make you sweAt

and considering the number of people here your leather jacket probably would’ve felt like a portable sauna if you were wearing it

namjoon’s cardigan is making you feel a little toasty but the mojito that jimin just made for you should cool you off

you snap your compact shut before sliding it into your mini backpack and looking over at jimin “why?”

side note

you weRe going to use your actual schoolbag but it was too bulky so you ended up using one of your smaller backpacks

it’s yellow and it’s plaid!!!!

and it goes with the nice, neutral brown of namjoon’s cardigan

jimin raises a brow as he looks over your outfit again “…no reason.”

let’s break down your outfit

a freshly pressed white button-up with namjoon’s brown cardigan over that

the shirt is tucked into a pair of sensible black jeans

you’re wearing a pair of shiny oxfords and you pulled your hair up into a neat ponytail

coincidentally enough the scrunchie is aLso yellow and plaid

so basically

you’re namjoon’s perfect match and the two of you are going to look SO cute when he eventually gets here

you know he wore a dark brown sweater to work today so you think you did a pretty good job picking out this cardigan

“when’s namjoon getting here, anyways?” jimin hums as he takes a sip of his own drink

you give a little shrug before checking the time on your watch

it’s already 9:45

namjoon’s shift ended around 9:30 and it doesn’t take that long to get to yoongi’s place from the lib-

“oh, you have got to be shitting me.” your mouth falls open in shock when you finally spot namjoon walk through the doors

and lo and behold

he’s not wearing his usual outfit

this feels like deja vu

in fact this is literally deja vu!!!!!!

don’t you remember??

that one time you didn’t wear your usual party clothes because you didn’t want to scare namjoon off but hE ended up flipping the script and he showed up to the party looking like the kING of the fuckboys

and now it’s happening to you again except this time it’s halloween-themed so namjoon is dressed like the captain of a damn football team

…you will admit that he looks very nice wearing the uniform though

the shoulder pads

the jersey

the thigh pads over his already muscular thighs

all of it is working

is it possible to have a crush on someone you’re already dating

“hey, look at you!” is the first thing namjoon says when he eventually makes his way over to you and jimin

you don’t even bother giving him a proper greeting because you are just BEFUDDLED

“hey, jimin.” namjoon smiles and sits down on the stool next to you before setting his helmet onto the countertop

“namjoon! you look… wow. you look like you could beat me up. and i’d probably let you.”

the vibe that is radiating off of namjoon right now is most definitely ‘girls want to sleep with me and guys want to be me’ and even thouGH you’ve seen this version of namjoon before..,., the halloween edition just seems a lot more intense

it takes a second for you to stOp gawking but you eventually pull yourself together

“i can’t believe you- you did it again! you did this to me laST time and you did it to me again!!!!” you scoff before holding your hand out to keep namjoon from coming any closer

you know for a fact he’s expecting his hello kiss but he’s going to have to find it from sOMEONE else because you don’t kiss traitors

“i honestly can’t believe you fell for it again.” namjoon snorts and gives your outfit a little up-down look “…if it makes you feel any better, you look adorable, my little bookworm-“ he coos and reaches over to pinch your cheek - vERY similar to what you used to do to him when you guys hadn’t gotten together yet and you just liked teasing him - and you immediately reach up to swat his hand away

so this is what a taste of your own medicine is like

you don’t like it

it tastes biTTER

“why are you upset? you said you wanted to do the clichE couple thing-“

“i’m uPSET because u look hot and i look like… let’s be real, i look like an old man right now.” you whine and reach up to take your glasses off

namjoon’s hand shoOTs out to stop you from taking the glasses off and that’s when u remember he… quite likes when you wear his glasses

okay fiNE you’ll keep them on

“come on…” namjoon leans forward and places his hands on both of your knees and you snort when he gives you his signature smile “can’t a super-hot, super-popular, super-not-nerdy football player just give his super-dorky, four-eyed, e=mc squared girlfriend a kiss??“

“you are ridiculous-“

“you shouldn’t have expected me to roll over and automatically play the nerd-“

okay that’s fAIR you deserve that one

you lean forward to give namjoon a quick peck before you’re leaning back and looking at his costume again

you unconsciously reach out to place your hand over his chest and your brows furrow in confusion

“are you wearing a chest plate?” for some reason his chest looks bigGer when he’s wearing a jersey

“nope.”

huh

interesting

you swallow thickly and give his broad chest a couple pats

“also, if you stain my cardigan, i’m… gonna kill you.”

spooktober masterlist // main masterlist

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madlori · 5 years

Text

Unveiled - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Epilogue

by MadLori Word Count: 2800 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Read it on AO3

No sex in this chapter, sorry. Next time!

-----

The Duke and Duchess of New Scotland arrived at Zhenya’s drawing room at the arranged time, the day after the wedding. Zhenya shook their hands and invited them to sit in what Sasha called the “conversation area.” Tea was ordered, and Zhenya tried to look as responsible and respectable as he could for these people who had just entrusted their son to him. He watched them as the footman served their tea, trying not to be too obvious about searching for clues to his consort’s appearance in their faces. They were both perfectly nice-looking people. The Duke seemed athletic, the Duchess was well turned-out.

“I’m so glad to finally have the chance to talk with you,” Zhenya said. They had met, just long enough to shake hands, when they’d arrived, but no more than that.

“So are we, Your Royal Highness,” the Duke said.

“Please. Call me Zhenya.”

“We would have been glad to meet with you before the wedding,” the Duchess said.

Zhenya shifted in his chair. “I’m new to embargoes, but I was advised that given how little time you have with your son before his marriage, such intrusion on my part wasn’t -- polite?”

The Duchess nodded, looking a little sad. “We appreciated having those days with him.”

“Has he has been pleased with his stay here so far?” Zhenya asked, cautiously.

“Oh yes,” the Duchess said. “It’s so much grander here than at home. New Scotland is a modest dukedom.”

“Ah, but grander doesn’t always mean better.”

“That is so. But everyone has been very welcoming.”

“I hope he wasn’t frightened, coming so far to a strange place.”

“I think you’ll find that not much frightens our son,” the Duchess said, pride beaming from her face.

“I look forward to the chance to learn about him. As long as the embargo is in place, I will have to rely on third party accounts, and even those are frowned upon.”

The Duke nodded. “He is prepared for the realities.”

Zhenya shifted. “When my parents began their search for a consort for me, I made it very clear that I would not accept a spouse who had been coerced, or who accepted marriage to me under duress. My father has assured me that he did not. I will ask you to make me the same assurance.”

They both looked shocked at the very idea of their son having been forced. “Oh, not at all,” the Duchess said. “Our son has ambitions to help others and be an active part of a responsible government, and given our relatively modest position, his best chance was to marry into such a situation. He had a number of offers, and he found your parents’ proposition appealing, so he accepted.”

“He had many offers?”

There was the pride again on the Duchess’s face. “Our son is very…” she began, but then the Duke put a gentle hand on her arm and she stopped.

“He has long been considered a very desirable prospect,” the Duke finished.

Zhenya nodded. “It seems I have gotten the better end of our arrangement.”

“Oh no, sir. We did our homework, and so did our son. We all felt that you were an honorable man, kind-hearted. So far, nothing here has made us think we were mistaken.” She leaned in a little, as if sharing a secret. “Our guards and valets have talked to the palace staff -- we know that’s the way to find out the truth. They all speak highly of you.”

“That’s very gratifying to hear,” Zhenya said. “We are committed to treating our staff fairly and respectfully.”

The Duchess winked at him. “I would be lying if I didn’t say that our son found your height and your, uh, general form to be pleasing.”

Zhenya felt absurdly fluttery to hear that his consort found him attractive. “As I’m sure I will his,” he said, thinking back to the one part of his consort’s body that he had seen. If that were any indication, “pleasing” would be a wild understatement. “I am conscious of what it must mean to you to deliver your son to a stranger for marriage, and to leave him, and hopefully your grandchild, in the care of others. I will do my best to deserve his trust,” he said, hoping they could hear the sincerity in his voice. “And yours.”

----------

“So you think it took?” was Sasha’s first question when Zhenya met him at the stables for their lunchtime ride. “The consummation, I mean.”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t you have a divine intuition or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, so far I’d say you got lucky. That guy’s got the juiciest ass I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s my husband you’re talking about, fucker.”

“Like you didn’t notice. You had a half-chub going the second you laid eyes on it.”

“You like women.”

“That doesn’t make me blind.”

“I’m trying not to objectify him.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of embargo?”

“Not to me.” Zhenya hesitated. “What do you know about the offers he had, other than mine?”

“Just what I hear, you know, round the lamppost.”

“Which is?”

“Apparently there was some oil billionaire from Texas who was very keen. Kept sending him cars and horses and such. One of his guards told me that the guy came to visit twice, and the second time, he got his hand on the consort’s ass one time too many and ended up in a chokehold.”

“The guards put him in a chokehold?”

Sasha grinned. “Your consort did.”

“Oh,” Zhenya said, blinking. “So he could have married very well without having to go through an embargo.”

“Yeah, seems like. You weren’t the only crown royal, either. Word around the campfire is that Princess Amaruq made him an offer.”

“He was accepting offers from women?”

“According to one of the Duchess’s maids, he prefers men but was willing to consider women. Amaruq’s lovely, and she’s really sporty, which apparently he likes.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to live in Fairbanks.”

Sasha was eyeing him. “Why all these questions?”

“Just...his mother was talking about how he’d had a lot of offers, and she started to say something like ‘Our son is very…’ and then the Duke cut her off.”

Sasha gave him a dry look. “Sounds like your consort’s a snack.”

“You think?”

“Well, what else was she about to say, other than he’s very attractive? Do you think he had a lot of offers because he was very well-read or very punctual?”

“Some people value punctuality.”

“Yeah, but the Duke wouldn’t have stopped her from saying that.”

“Well, no matter what, I won’t find out for at least three months, so there’s no use wondering. There’s more to a marriage than that.”

Sasha shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt, though.”

They rode out on their usual route, out around the lake and through the orchards, skirting the gardens behind the palace as they returned. Zhenya’s hat flew off and he drew his horse up short, handing the reins to Sasha and hopping off to run back and retrieve it. “Zhenya,” Sasha muttered, jerking his head toward the garden.

He looked and saw his consort walking in the garden with his guards, five of them. One walked abreast and seemed to be talking to him, then two in front, two behind. The guard walking alongside wore extra decoration on his uniform; must be the captain, Zhenya thought. Now that the wedding was over, the consort was wearing less elaborate daily-wear veils; they fell only to mid-thigh, flowing over his face and torso. Zhenya could discern nothing of his face or body. Zhenya recognized three of the guards from the ceremony yesterday. The captain had been inside the bonding chamber, and two of the others had been outside. The other two were new to him -- of course, he thought, they can’t all be on duty at once. He must have a rotation. One was a strong-looking woman with a blond ponytail, the other was a square, bow-legged man with one of the handsomest faces Zhenya had ever seen. If he’d met him in a club, he’d have sidled on up and tried to find out which way he swung, for certain.

Zhenya looked away and chastised himself. He was a married man; he shouldn't be ogling his husband’s good-looking guards.

When he looked again, the head guard was watching him and directing the consort’s attention to where Zhenya and Sasha were, on the far side of the garden. Caught off-guard, Zhenya lifted his hand in a lame little wave; the consort inclined his head in acknowledgment. The group kept moving and were soon out of sight.

“Wow,” Sasha said. “I’m going to report you for violating embargo with that embarrassing display of excess.”

Zhenya rolled his eyes. “Just trying to be civil.”

---------

Soon after returning to his office, Zhenya’s private secretary, Alex, poked his head in. “Sir, the head of the consort’s guard wishes to speak with you. Shall I tell him to make an appointment?”

“No, I have time. Please show him in.” Zhenya got up and straightened his waistcoat, overcome with the desire to impress this man. Which was ridiculous -- he was the crown Prince -- but it couldn’t be denied.

The guard entered, hat under his arm, and saluted him smartly. “Your Royal Highness,” he said. It was the same man he’d seen earlier with the consort, who he’d deduced to be the captain. He was slender and handsome in a sharp-featured way. All the men in the guard seemed to be handsome. Zhenya wondered if that was by design.

“Please, come in, have a seat.”

The guard looked like he might prefer to stand, but after a brief hesitation he moved to the chair Zhenya indicated and perched ramrod-straight on the edge. “Thank you for seeing me, sir. My name is Fleury, I am the captain of His Highness’s guard. I thought it appropriate that we should meet.”

“I agree, Captain Fleury. I would have sent for you myself, but I didn’t think it my place.”

“Correct.”

Zhenya blinked. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

Fleury smiled; Zhenya detected a mischievous twinkle in the man’s eye. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk about. It’s already come up a few times so I thought I ought to make sure everyone here is aware that my guards and I do not work for you or the Palace. We work for His Highness, and we answer to nobody else. Our loyalty and obedience are to him and him alone.”

Zhenya nodded. This was, indeed, a good point to clarify. “Understood, Captain. I will make this clear to all the Palace staff, including my own guards.”

“Once the embargo is lifted, His Highness will be under the protection of your guard just as you are and our jobs will be complete, but until that time, he is our responsibility.”

“Thank you for taking that responsibility seriously.”

“I take it very seriously.” Fleury cleared his throat. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but His Highness and I are longtime friends and he is very dear to me, and to my guards. So we take his safety and well-being personally.”

“Good.” Zhenya held the man’s gaze. He did not acknowledge the implied threat to himself in that statement but he heard it clearly, and Fleury obviously knew that he’d heard it clearly. They understood each other.

Fleury gave a little nod, as if to close the topic. “Okay. Onto the practical stuff.” He pulled out a notebook and a pen. Zhenya half-wished he had the same; he felt like he ought to be taking notes. “His Highness wants to know what time of day you prefer for sex.”

Zhenya blinked. He hadn’t expected such frankness, but it was a relief to hear it. “Um...I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“He likes to maintain a routine, if that’s okay with you.”

“If he prefers that, I’m happy to go along.” He thought for a moment. “Would midafternoon suit him? Evenings are so often taken up with state functions, and I am usually tired afterwards.”

Fleury smiled, and Zhenya sensed that he’d passed some kind of unannounced test. “That sounds good. Let’s set a daily appointment at 3:00 pm, with a confirmation by messenger at 2:30 and an option to postpone, but no later than 4:00 pm.”

Zhenya nodded. “Your master is very organized.”

Fleury chuckled quietly. “Oh, you’re going to find out.” He looked up at him. “He also wanted me to tell you that he really appreciated your gesture at the consummation, when you asked him for consent? It surprised him and put him at ease.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It was important to me and continues to be.”

“He thought so. So he’s got an idea for that, going forward. For -- intimate moments. If he makes this gesture…” Fleury held out his hand in a thumbs-down…”that means he wants you to stop whatever it is you’re doing. If he does not make that gesture, you may assume you have his consent to proceed. And you should use that signal for yourself, too.”

Zhenya hadn’t really known what to expect of his new husband, but it certainly hadn’t been this. “He would seem to be a thoughtful man of foresight.”

Fleury nodded. “He is, sir. Does that work for you?”

“It does. Please thank him for giving me a way to know how he’s feeling.”

“I will.” He hesitated. “And look, just -- thanks. From me, and the rest of us who care about him. I didn’t know what to expect of you. We did our research and you seem like a decent man, but many highborn people, even decent ones, when presented with a consort, would often take the opportunity to do as they liked with no thought for the consort’s wishes.”

“I am not such a man,” Zhenya said, firmly.

“I can see that. And so does he.” Fleury seemed about to go on, then harrumphed and checked his notes. “His Highness is very interested in contributing to the good of the kingdom. He knows that he can’t start up any charitable works or civic responsibilities under the embargo. So he would like to ask if there is anything he can do to help either here in the palace, or in such a way that he would remain anonymous.”

“If there were, my knowing about it would be a violation of the embargo.”

“Correct. Is there someone we could go to in your stead on this matter?”

“Yes, I think so. My executive secretary, Mr. Gonchar, is often my representative in matters of this nature; I’m sure he can find a way for His Highness to contribute without my knowledge or anyone else’s. You may tell him that both he and His Highness have my permission to undertake whatever projects they deem appropriate.”

“Very good. We will consult with him.” Fleury rose to his feet. “That’s all I have for now, Your Royal Highness. Thank you for being open to my comments.”

Zhenya rose. “I…” He sighed and looked at his feet. “Please tell my husband that my greatest wish is that he be comfortable and content here, and that our embargo may be brief.”

Fleury’s eyes narrowed. “That’s pushing embargo, don’t you think?”

“Probably.”

His gaze warmed a little. “Even if I can’t pass your words on to him, I have heard them myself. That isn’t nothing.” He winked, then turned and took his leave.

Cheeky, Zhenya thought. But he liked him.

-----

Fleury had not been gone half an hour when a messenger appeared with a card. “From His Highness,” the messenger said. “He awaits your reply.” He stood back while Zhenya opened the card, glancing at the clock. Sure enough, it was 2:30 on the dot. The card was a quaint touch, but a necessary one -- the embargo forbid them from texting or phoning each other, so this was all they had.

Your confirmation is requested for today’s scheduled appointment with the Prince Consort at 3:00 p.m. in the Royal Bedchamber. Please indicate your response below.

____ Accepted

____Cancelled

____Postponement to _____ o’clock requested

Yours very sincerely, The Prince Consort

Zhenya stared at the card with its neat lettering and multiple-choice responses, feeling an absurd lump rise in his throat. He could fall in love with this man and his endearing routines without ever having seen his face or heard his voice, embargo be damned.

He placed a check mark next to “Accepted” and sent the messenger back, then headed to his own chambers. He wanted to shower before his appointment.

Next Chapter

#unveiled #sidgeno #sidgeno fic #hockey rpf #my writing #unveiled chapters

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rosecolouredash · 5 years

Text

Duality ; Rival Hockey!Cashton

Pairing: Captain!Ashton x fem!OC x Captain!Calum

Summary: A tale of two captains and their childhood love.

Warnings: Ash being a grade A jerk™️ like serious big cocky flirt energy, Calum being a soft smoosh, me being an indecisive bitch.

Notes: When new tattoos fuel your creativity, you have to take advantage of it — which I did. Thanks to everyone who continuously loves on my lil hockey!au. I love YOU.

For as long as Liza Morales has known them, there was constant conflict between the two hockey captains — a war of emotions that diverged off of the ice they competed on. It was something deeper than the cheap shots to the boards and the harsh chirps they exchanged when meeting one another at the face-off circle. After all, their fight over athletic awards and hockey championship titles meant nothing compared to their fight over a childhood love.

Ashton Irwin, the captain of the Vipers, was alluring and cunning like the creature that represented his team. Whether it was during practice or an official game, he was always out for blood — a true believer in “no pain, no gain.” If he made an absurd play on the ice, as long as it benefited his team, he’d do it.

His school still fawned over him for it.

Calum Hood, on the other hand, was all dark stares and pouty lips as the leader of the neighbouring university hockey team — the Knights. He was naturally fair and encouraging on the ice but his brooding attitude deemed him as unapproachable and standoffish by most of the student body.

The former could flirt with an unsuspecting spectator at one of his games even after just coming out of a scuffle with a rival player — his knuckles bloodied and not a single hair out of place while the latter could strike complete and utter fear, without meaning to, in a teammate with a single narrowed glance.

They were two sides of the same coin.

Charming smiles and profound scowls.

Conspicuous behaviours and deep insecurity.

Bright eyes and dark curls and somehow, Liza found them vying for her love.

—

The three childhood friends lived next door to each other in the same cul-de-sac. Liza was closer in age to Calum so they shared many of the same classes growing up. Ashton, who was a couple of years older, took the advanced classes at their local school.

Even as children, the two boys bickered often.

Ashton reveled in antagonizing Calum, especially when it came to hockey. Ashton was a known prodigy at the sport and he was sure to remind Calum of that every chance that he could. The juvenile banter fueled the younger boy’s want to excel and surpass his friend and rival with pure finesse and raw skill in the rink.

There were days when, as the three would hang out together, that Ashton would feel particularly petty. He’d slink his arm around the black-haired beauty, drawing her body against his. He’d tut his tongue at Calum, complaining that he never got to hang out with Liza alone — that Calum took up too much of her precious time.

“You see each other in class all day but what about me?” Ashton would ask with a small pout, his tone at the borderline of joking and being dead serious.

As the coiffed brunet pulled her from the Hood’s front porch to his own, Liza missed the burning glare directed at the older boy and the wicked glint in Ashton’s eyes as he thanked Calum for his hospitality. At the time, the young teen still had the decency to stay tight-lipped; at the respect for his senior.

In the end, the dark-haired boy had the last laugh since Liza had decided to study medicine at Calum’s university rather than Ashton’s. What was worse, at least in the Viper captain’s eyes, was that she was also part of the enemy team — as the student physician — which meant she and Calum spent more time together, nowadays.

Sometimes, in intimate and close quarters.

—

Liza wasn’t blind to their advances. How Ashton’s flirty smiles always softened whenever they were directed at her. Or how at games at his university, he’d use his sharp tongue, that usually quipped at Calum and the Knights she stood behind, to compliment her with devilishly sweet words.

Calum too, made his feelings obvious through gentle conversations shared in the halls of their university — in-between seminars — and the way he seemed to keep the girl tucked by his side, his hand pressed at the small of her back, during crowded victory parties.

Liza’s mind often wandered to her two captain friends. There was no point in denying her attraction to both. They had so much history.

Childhood sleepovers where she was the last to fall asleep; her mind racing about the future. Even at a tender young age, she knew what she wanted in life and Ashton and Calum would listen to her rambles with expressions of complete endearment.

Pinky promises were made during those nights; claiming that they’d be together forever.

If only she knew of the war that would wage between the two boys over her affection.

Liza was so certain about many aspects of her life and for the first time: she was indecisive.

She doubted that she could ever choose between Ashton and Calum and so, she focused on what she could control. Liza put all of her energy in her studies and on being the Knights hockey team’s glorified healer — much to both the boys’ dismay.

They too, tried to busy themselves on honing their own skills as athletes. Frustrations caused by the matter were taken out on each other when they met on the ice.

Until one day, it wasn’t enough.

—

Liza received a text message from Calum, requesting her immediate presence at the university’s training rink. Fearing it was injury-related, she rushed over. Luckily, her classes were finished for the day.

She expected to find a crowd of rowdy Knights when in reality, Liza was only met by one — the captain and he was on the ice with the Snake King, himself.

Though they were older, they were still childish which was clear when Liza realized that the two boys thought that duking it out in a one-on-one hockey game could settle things.

If only wading through emotions was that simple.

They were clad in their respective uniforms — the letter “C” ever present on their chests.

Calum was calm; wrapped in black and silver. His every move was calculated.

From each glide of his skate to the flick of his wrist — hockey stick pointed at the Viper’s net. The dark-haired boy had the resolve but Ashton, clad in bright red, was simply the better athlete. The older captain was always two steps ahead and it made Calum furious.

It was easy to see that they wore their hearts on the sleeve of their hockey jerseys.

Liza watched, after making her way to the home team’s bench, as they etched into the ice. Their skates were heavy with every powerful stride they took on the frozen surface.

Since the rink was empty, safe for the three childhood friends, the boys’ conversation rang clear in Liza’s ears.

When he stole the puck, Ashton chirped, “you may as well give up now, Cal.”

As Calum skated after him, Ashton continued, “you’re a good player but that doesn’t mean you’d be a good boyfriend.”

Guiding his hockey stick, Calum tipped the puck out of Ashton’s possession. He sent the captain of the Vipers a mischievous grin as he pivoted away. “What do you know?”

They went back and forth for a while.

The frown on Liza’s face deepening with each quip they spat at each other. There was a time when she believed her boys could get along. She was sure they could be the best of friends — if only they tried.

The intensity of the match continued to grow as the boys physically crashed into one another. Liza was ready for one or the other to shatter on impact. It was one particular hit to the board — Calum to Ashton — that she was reminded how tough they could be. The older of the two kept his composure, even after being slammed hard. Without skipping a beat, Ashton continued to goad on the Knight who was beginning to lose his form on the ice.

It was with one final puck to Calum’s net that Ashton watched with a triumphant smirk as the captain of the Knights gripped at his hockey stick with such force that it snapped in half.

They had decided at the start: first to five would win their little match.

The score was 5-4, in favour of Ashton.

The Viper removed his helmet, his cocky demeanor now serious. “How many times will you have to lose to me, Calum?”

From where she stood at the bench, Liza could see the twitch of Calum’s upper lip — his expression darkening.

Calum fists were still clenched and his broken stick was long forgotten on the ice. He didn’t bother to reply and skated straight for the exit; never once sparing a glance towards Liza, as he passed the bench in shame.

Her heart broke to see Calum so dejected.

To Ashton’s surprise, Liza chased after the younger captain, almost slipping on the ice in doing so because of improper footwear.

She could hear Ashton’s desperate protests as they echoed from the rink but she didn’t stop.

—

Liza was halfway down the hall that led to the locker rooms when she caught up to Calum. She looked to the side to find his helmet lying on the cement floor, its visor cracked; most likely from being thrown away in frustration.

“Cal?”

He turned to face her, his grimace prominent. If Liza hadn’t grown up with the boy, she would have flinched at his expression.

Calum was still in his skates so he was a couple of inches taller than usual. He looked down at his childhood love.

She couldn’t read him. “What is it?”

Words were never his strong suit, whether he had to communicate or receive them. Knowing this, Liza reached out to embrace him — the only form of comfort that she could really offer at the moment. Almost immediately, he latched onto her frame. His face buried into the crook of her neck.

“I’ll—” he began.

His breath ghosted her skin.

“I’ll be better,” he finished, voice filled with determination.

Liza pulled back slightly, “but Calum, you’re great as you are.”

She’s seen his growth as a demure defenseman into a confident captain.

“You’ve worked so hard and you continue to work so hard—for yourself, for the team. It’s what I love about you.”

Love. Was it contradictory to offer such affection when she harboured the same feelings for his rival?

At that comment, his expression became contemplative. Calum’s gaze was suddenly fixated on her and only her. Her warm eyes. Her round cheeks. Her thin lips.

“Calum?”

His gloved hands moved to cup her face.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology was the last thing spoken before he dipped his head and Calum’s lips met hers. Though the contact was rushed, the action itself was gentle. A gratifying sigh escaped the two.

Aside from kisses to the cheek and her forehead exchanged with both, this was Liza’s first real kiss. Not even Ashton had made the move. Though he was self-assured that he’d know when the time was right.

But now he was too late.

The Viper captain watched as they broke apart — eyes wide. His pompous facade shattered in an instant as he made his way down the hall towards the two.

Glaring vengefully at Calum, he hissed out while giving the younger boy a shove. “How dare you?”

Ashton with his composure lost was a true force to be reckoned with. She recognized his state immediately and so Liza placed herself in-between the two boys. “Ash, please.”

With pleading eyes, she continued, “that’s enough.”

“So you’re just going to let him kiss you?” Ashton questioned in heartache. “Are you choosing him?”

Calum instinctively moved to her side, ready to defend her, if necessary. Liza shook her head at the older boy, “I haven’t chosen anybody.”

She then let out an exasperated sigh, “and it’s unfair of you to expect me to choose between you two.”

The boys would never intentionally force her to pick. They had too much respect and adoration for Liza to do so but maybe they had not thought their plan through.

Now visibly frustrated, Liza positioned herself so that she could address both captains at the same time, “or allow a stupid little hockey game to decide for me.”

The boys were left speechless and too surprised to stop her from walking away.

—

That was the first time they had directly confronted their odd circumstances of emotions. Liza had avoided the two boys since; even going as far as asking the head coach of the Knights if she could step down from her position as the team’s student physician for the time being. Coach Sveinson let her go, almost reluctantly but she reassured him that she just had some things to work through — he could only wish her the best.

It was sometime after that the three childhood friends would face their feelings, head on, once more.

Liza sat at the desk in her bedroom — notes and multi-coloured pens scattered across the wooden surface. She was home alone and deep into studying for exams when she noticed movement outside of her window. Curious, she looked through the glass to find Ashton and Calum having a conversation in front of her house.

When they reached the Morales’ front door, Ashton made the gesture to knock but Liza appeared at the entrance before he had the chance.

She let them in.

They stood in the foyer, in silence. Surprisingly, it was Calum who was the first to speak.

“We came to apologize,” he started, the sentiment written on his face. “What we did—it wasn’t fair to you and we’re sorry.”

Liza kept her stance with arms crossed. She didn’t know what to say so Ashton took the opportunity to continue.

“We really do love you, Liz—” her breath hitched at the pure honesty in Ashton’s voice. “—and love makes you do ridiculous things.”

She gave her boys a small smile. “I have to admit. What’s going on between us—it’s complicated, isn’t it?”

Even the two rival captains could agree on that.

“Yeah but, if it makes you want to avoid us than it’s not worth it.”

Calum let out a breath, “the boys miss you.”

Liza admitted she missed the Knights hockey team too.

“As do we.” Ashton gestured to himself and Calum. Her heart swelled at that since she most definitely missed her boys.

Liza Morales wasn’t sure what would happen now but it was a start and that’s all she really could hope for.

Tagged: @irwinkitten @calpops @rosecoloredash @lilbabycalum @gorgeouslygrace @rainingcalum @cashton-dolan @lockthisheartinchains @americanhorrorstudies @lovableah

BONUS: Her study notes were hard to recall at this point. Liza’s mind was in a blissful haze.

When they said they had a way of making it up to her she hadn’t expected this.

Ashton opened her bedroom window — the temperature in her room too high. When he looked back, he found Calum kneeling at the front of her bed — the tattoo of a dagger glaring back at him on his rival’s arm.

Ashton rejoined Liza on the mattress, placing himself behind her as she reached back to grip at his biceps. Her left hand caressed his snake tattoo.

“Hey Cal,” he started. Calum lifted his head from between her legs.

“First to get her to five, wins?”

Liza almost choked on air.

“You’re on.”

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dxlansfxck · 5 years

Text

Saints & Sins [G.D] - Part 1

Summary: there's nothing that pisses Y/N off more than her own life. her family is highly religious, wealthy and nothing she'd consider fun. her surrounding is boring, but once the new guy, grayson, decides to sit right next to her, Y/N enters a new world filled with romance & fun. little did she know that this kind of fun had his shadow side to it.

Warnings: DRUG ABUSE!, this story is all about drugs, sex & a toxic relationship, if you don’t like stuff like that, you probably shouldn’t read this.

00 - Prologue

„I don’t get it, y/n! What did we do to you? How could you end up like this?”, her mother broke down in tears while looking down at her dirty, probably disgusting smelling self, “You’re the worst that could have happened to our family! Just because you needed to fall in love with this Grayson guy. The devil has sent him to test you, but you failed. You sinned just to receive a bit of pleasure instead of listening to your god!” She’s talking herself into some kind of rage but she isn’t even listening, ignoring her own mother like she did the past few months.

God here, god there. That’s all her family talks about, this weird guy that seems to live in the sky and watches us living. But how could she think him or Jesus when her mind is full of other things. Like her next shot. “Y/N, I can’t believe it! You’re not even listening to your own mother. I need to call the church so they can send father Louis to us, he needs to clean your mind! He needs to get those demons out of your thoughts.”

Suddenly, she starts praying, which Y/N’s opportunity to get out of here. She slowly walks back into her room, ignoring the cold floor on her naked feet, closes the door and smirks at the beautiful boy that’s already laying in her dirty bed. “Took you long, babe. Did your mother tell you I’m the devil’s son again? That I came straight from hell to ruin your life? Why don’t you listen to her, angel? Why won’t you leave me for your own sake?”, his fingers trail over her lips, making her already weak to the bones. Grayson chuckles, his still very muscular chest rising. His voice is full of sarcasm while his lips form the devilish grin that made her fall for him long time ago. Meanwhile, he takes the old, rusty utensils from the nightstand and slowly pours the white powder on top of the spoon. As soon as she sees his actions, her mind goes crazy and her tiny, destroyed body starts to shake from the sudden pain she feels. But Grayson takes his time preparing his own shot, holds the lighter under the spoon painfully slow.

“For fucks sake, hurry!”, her raspy voice breaks, but she bets he understood what she was saying, he just didn’t want to listen. “Gray, I can’t wait anymore!” Her cold hands were starting to shake so badly, that she was sure she couldn’t even prepare her own shot anymore but she knew Grayson, he wouldn’t do it for her, the were far past this point and he didn’t even wanted her to start this anyway. “If you’ve got enough time to prepare it that slowly, hand it over! I need it now! You know that once I’m on turkey I can’t do it myself. GIVE IT TO ME!”, she tries to rip the improvised belt out of his hand, but he just pushes her away with his foot before ramming the needle in his veins. A few seconds later, his eyes were already closing while a soft smile appears on his lips.

“Fucking son of a bitch”, she mostly mutters to herself before pulling the needle out of his arm and starts preparing her own shot of happiness. She didn’t even bother to clean the needle, if they didn’t get ill from sharing by now, it’ll probably never happen.

Her hands won’t stop shaking while cooking the substance on the dirty spoon and it gets even worse while she was trying to get it into the needle. She nearly dropped everything while searching for a good enough vein, trying not to shoot into the scar tissue, but after a few misplaced shots, she finally gets a good one that beams her somewhere else before falling asleep on Grayson’s chest.

01 - Grayson Bailey Dolan

Her life is boring. Not interesting at all. She’s been in this Christian boarding school ever since she was 6. Now she had to change to a Christian college and to be honest: it really fucking sucks.

She needs to take religion classes every day, visit the college church every Sunday and her parents seem to be the most boring humans on earth.

“Y/N, c’mon, we’re coming late to Biology!”

Have I already mentioned that her classmates suck as well? She’s never seen someone coming late to class, it’s always been her and always her. By her, I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Ugh, she knows it could’ve been worse, because there’s a guy sitting in front of her called Thaddeus, I mean… You probably know what I mean.

After lunch – strictly vegetarian, of course – and without any motivation left, she attempted the last class of the day. Her uniform was already loose because she had opened the first two buttons of her blouse, the tie hanging loosely around her neck. Which college had uniforms anyway? This was a fucking cult.

“Ms. Y/L/N, could you please put your feet back on the holy ground instead of the table? Or do you want to clean it afterwards?” Y/N huffs in annoyance, placing her feet back in front of her. Instead of mocking the teacher, she gets interrupted by the door swinging open loudly. None of those fuckers would come late to class, but nobody heard of a new student joining them. The guy that walks in seemed a bit older, he was taller and… built. He was a giant, broad shoulders, thick thighs and you could tell through his uniform shirt, that his chest was phenomenal.

“My lovely students, this is Grayson Bailey Dolan. His parents moved here from New Jersey, please don’t be rude to him! I bet he’d be glad to know all of you. Grayson Bailey, why don’t you tell the class more about yourself?”

Grayson Bailey Dolan, as the teacher told them, didn’t seem to be very affected by anything. He studies every single face, which gives Y/N the opportunity to study his. A mop of bleached hair, narrowed eyebrows and brown eyes that had the same annoyed look as hers. His plump lips were pressed into a line, probably hiding a rude commentary to his introduction.

“It’s Grayson. And I don’t see the point in introducing myself, wouldn’t want to make friends anyway.” His deep voice didn’t surprise her at all, while he begins walking towards the only empty chair – which of course led to be the one next to Y/N. She fought for this place for about two years, she would never share it. Not with him, not with anyone. “I want to sit alone”, she spat. “And I don’t care.”

“Alright, the seat next to Ms Y/L/N is empty as you already saw. Now, tell us about your hobbies, your favorite book, don’t be shy!”, their teacher still tries to make him talk, but Grayson just huffs in annoyance. “No hobbies, I don’t read, just look at the pictures, and for that I prefer the dirty ones, you know?”

“Oh, okay, well… Anyways, we’re going to start with our next topic which will be DNS and genetics. I’ll show you a little short film and you have to take some notes so we can discuss it later on. Have fun with our little friend Geni!”

With that, the teacher started some stupid clip of an alien called Geni that wants to teach genetics while being funny. Didn’t work out that well.

“Hey, is she always like that? She seems to be a bit sick in the head.” Grayson’s voice drags Y/N out of her thoughts, and she was surprised that he decided to talk to her. She shrugs her shoulders while muttering a quick “dunno”. She feels his eyes burning through her body while he was obviously checking her out, so she kept starring at him. “Is there something interesting to see? You should focus on Geni, our little friend, not my unbuttoned blouse.” With that, she continued studying his face, his jawline was very strong in contrast to his hallowed cheeks. His eyes seem to be tired because they’ve always been kind of closed while his gaze is starring somewhere else.

Just in the moment he was about to open his mouth, the teacher screams “Well that was fun! Never been so amused while learning important lections! Ha, Geni is a genius. I hoped you wrote down anything important so we can discuss them in the next lesson. Have a night evening and I hope everyone will be there to cheer on our hockey team, they have their first official match today!”

Soon, the classroom is empty, and everyone is inside their dorms. Y/N changed into something more comfy before sitting down on her desk while painting with her new oil colors.

“Wow, damn! This is sick! Looks like some kind of a trip. Do you draw often? I mean, of course you do, it looks so fucking good!” Y/N got so terrified that she nearly fell out of her chair, then she realized it was Grayson standing right next to her, his eyes on the piece of paper in front of her.

“Ehm, hi Grayson? Nice to see you, I guess, but that’s my room?” “Hi, cool room. I like your style, fits mine”, he points to her pair of joggers while opening and unbuttoning his shirt. Then he sits down on the bed which hasn’t had an owner. Yet.

“Anyways, this college sucks. I mean, it really bloody sucks. Teacher and students. Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, but you know how it is. Everyone seems to be manipulated by god, it’s really scary. Well, I live here now, but I gotta go. See you later, alligator.”

He was soon gone and Y/N was more than confused. She was a girl, living in a dorm, not knowing there was any chance to have a boy as a roommate. Of course, sometimes boyfriend and girlfriend were able to share a room, but most of the time, it was strictly separated. Shrugging the thought off, Y/N prepared her stuff for a quick shower, still thinking about Grayson Bailey Dolan and the impact he’s going to have on her life.

The next morning already starts with a surprise, it seems like Grayson Dolan hasn’t been in there the entire night. His suitcase and most of his clothes are still spread across his bed. This boy was such a mystery.

Not even an hour later, Y/N finds herself in the first class of the day, not listening to what the teacher said, drawing in her notebook again. “Do you always draw that stuff? I mean, yesterday, today, literally all the time. Not that it bothers me, I really like it. But I wanna know what’s in your head.” She was kinda pissed about Grayson’s presence that she couldn’t ever answer his question. “Oh c’mon, don’t act like you’re listening to that bullshit this nun is talking about. And since you’re a student here, you should be drawing churches or the holy ghost or I don’t even know. But for sure not that”, he points to the burning people she drew, burning in the purgatory and her cheeks got instant red.

“Where were you last night? When I woke up I found your suitcase on your bed, just like you left it yesterday. Listen, those professors are so fucking strict, I don’t want to lose this place, okay? And one of their simplest punishments is scrubbing the church floor – which I don’t want to do either because there will be 20 Jesus figures watching you. And..” “Y/L/N, Dolan! This lesson is more precious than your conversation, seems like I have to inform both of your parents. Detention, both of you!” Their fat, disusting teacher interrupts them.

After 4 more hours of maths and religion, Y/N practically runs into her room, Grayson Dolan right behind her. “Y/N, why aren’t you talking to me? Are you angry ‘cause of the detention? Listen, I’m kinda sorry, but it’ll be just two hours of sitting there, it could be worse. And why is the ugly rat calling our parents? Y/L/N are you even listening?” She feels Grayson’s large hand on her shoulder, but shrugs it off. “Hm? Yeah, sure I am.” “You’re weird, but oh well. Are you hungry? Should we head out to Subway or McDonalds? We still have a bit of time left before detention starts and I’m starving.”

The girl is looking up to him, confusion written on her face. “Leaving? The only time you’re allowed to leave is between 3 and 7. Lunch is in the canteen, but the food is vegetarian.”

Grayson’s eyes widen in shock. “Vegetarian? Seriously? Dude, this is torture! How are you even alive?” “Dunno, never had meat, never wanted to, it’s dead animals. That’s disgusting. There’s plants for a reason, y’know?” “Sick”, Grayson nods. “Hey, Y/N! Why can’t ants go to church? ‘cause they’re insects. In-sects! Understand?”, he laughs so hard that he needed to sit down on his bed, holding his stomach. Y/N on the other hand opened the bible on her desk. “Haha, funny”, she mumbled and began to write down the daily phrases they needed to hand in the next day.

“Have you ever drunk alcohol? Or smoked? Oh, you hesitated, you’re a literal virgin. In everything! We need to change that, but first: lunch!” He drags her by her tiny hands and almost runs into the dining hall. “What’s that smell?”, he scrunches his nose, looking confused. “I don’t even know, it always smells like cabbage, but there’s never cabbage in the meals. You need to get the vegetable burger, but never the vegetable sausages. Everything with noodles or potatoes is fine, salad is okay but the soups are disgusting, got it? We can go to the city later on and find something better for you.” They both decided on getting the burger and while Y/N bites into it, Grayson takes a bite of the fries, then scrunches his nose again and adds half a bottle of ketchup onto them.

“I can show you around then, but there aren’t any cool stores to buy clothes, I usually order them once I’m home”, Y/N managed to speak while chewing her last bite of burger. “You’re pretty cool, angel. Never thought I could meet someone I’d like in here.”

#grayson dolan #graysondolan #dolan twins #Grayson Dolan fanfiction #Grayson Dolan smut #masterlist #smut

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haledamage · 4 years

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OC Interview: Liv Ramsey

a slightly more different interview with Liv XD @captainofthefallen open tagged and I didn’t need any much encouragement, so here you go. Gonna put most of it under a cut because it got really long.

I want to do this with Kira, too, but I couldn’t decide which romance route, and since some of the answers would obviously be different depending, I decided not to. (if someone wants to reply to this and tell me which Bravo Boy you want to see Kira awkwardly pretend she isn’t attracted to, I’ll do this for her as well :))

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same I was gonna say I’m not tagging anyone, but I’m gonna actually tag @queen-scribbles for one of her Wayhaven Detectives because I love them :3

1. What is your name?

“Raphael.” She grins playfully, as sharp and bright as a blade. She’s fidgeting restlessly with what looks to be a 9mm bullet. You’re unsure if it’s meant to be a threat or if she just needs something to do with her hands. “Okay, not really. I’m Liv. Olivia Ramsey. Charmed, I’m sure.”

2. Do you know why are you named that?

“I don’t know for a fact that I am named that. It’s just what they called me, and I decided to keep it.” She slips the bullet into some hidden pocket in the simple, well-tailored black suit she’s wearing and leans back, picking absently at her chipped blood-red nail polish. “As for Raphael, that’s my rank. Like a callsign, you could say. Or a nickname. I’ve got pretty attached to it in the last month or so.”

3. Are you single or taken?

She scowls. “I never liked to phrase it that way. ‘Taken,’ like I’ve been kidnapped or somethin’.” She pauses, studying your face like she’s trying to figure out how much to tell you. “But I assume you’re askin’ if I’m in a relationship, and I guess I am. Sorta. I’m pretty sure.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh. “I am in love with a man who is also in love with me and that I sometimes share a bed with. That I share a lot of things with. He’s also technically my boss, and if anyone knew about it, they’d try to use me to get to him. I’d be tortured and killed and that’s if I’m lucky. So it’s, y’know, a bit complicated.”

She leans forward in her chair suddenly, all the kindness draining from her face. “This stays between us, right, sweetheart? I’m not gonna let you put Gabriel in any danger over this.” She sits back and just like that her smile is back. “And before you ask, no. I haven’t seen his face. Everyone always asks me that. It’s not safe yet. No tellin’ who else might be watching.” Her smile softens into something fond, almost sweet. “I can wait. He’s worth it.”

4. Have any abilities or powers?

“I’m a good sweet-talker. Good at gettin’ people to tell me things or makin’ ‘em listen. I prefer to do it with a smile, but,” she pauses, a shadow of something very dangerous in her pale eyes, “well, sometimes people are stubborn. I got other ways to make ‘em talk, too.”

“Besides that, I move fast, I can be real quiet when I need to… or real loud, if that’s what’s called for instead. Pretty good at patching up wounds. Less good at causing them, but hey, no one’s perfect.” She shrugs one shoulder.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

She laughs, loud and joyful and maybe a little unhinged. “Oh, I fuckin’ wish. You know what’d I’d do if I had super powers and shit?” Her laughter quiets, but she keeps chuckling. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t.”

6. What’s your eye color?

“Blue. Not much to say about it, really. Lotsa people have blue eyes.”

7. How about your hair color?

She tugs on a strand of her long hair, currently falling loosely around her shoulders and down her back. “It’s red, right now. I change it sometimes, when the mood strikes, but I like red. I think only Mouse and Gabriel know my natural hair color, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.” She taps her index finger on her thigh, thinking. "Maybe Michael knows. I dunno how much Gabriel tells him. I don't think he'd really care about somethin’ like that. Bigger fish to fry and all."

8. Have any family members?

“I mean, I’ve got the Archangels. Beyond them, no. Don’t need anyone else.”

9. Oh? How about pets?

She brightens suddenly. “I have a kitten! Her name’s Ruby. Here, I think I have a picture.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and scrolls through it for a moment before holding it out to you. On the screen is a picture of a kitten, about three or four months old, with fluffy gray fur and curious blue eyes. It seems to be laying on what looks like a black hockey mask. “Raquel’s probably still a little pissed at me for keeping her, but… well, it did kinda save her life.”

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now, tell me something you don’t like?

“I don’t like being shot at,” she says dryly, then she smirks. “I don’t like when people threaten my friends. If I had a dime for every time someone threatened to hurt Mouse in order to get me to talk, I could retire somewhere tropical.” She laughs to herself, one quick, amused ‘ha!’. “I’d like to see them try. He may be little, and quiet, but I don’t recommend underestimating him. It’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“I’m an artist. You’ve probably seen some of my work, if you’ve ever been to Manhattan. A couple of them were even done legally.” Her smile is warm, and there’s still laughter in her eyes. “I’m a painter. I mean, when I have time. I got lots of sketchbooks I fill up when I don’t have the time to put things on canvas or concrete. I’m also a pretty good chess player.” Her smile turns a little wicked. “Ask Rook how good I am at it. I wonder if he’s still sore about losin’ to me. I don’t think Bishop’s ever gonna let him live it down.”

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

“Are you kidding me?” She laughs. “I have hurt people in any way you can imagine and several ways you probably can’t. I don’t like to do it… well, just between you and me, sometimes I do like it.” She straightens the light blue tie she wears. “But either way, it’s part of the job. And I'm very good at my job.”

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Oh yeah. Plenty of them.” She shrugs, like she’s not bothered at all by it, but she won’t quite meet your eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, they were bad people. Probably. Most of them were, at least.” She smiles warmly at you, the tension in her expression gone like it was never there. “Don’t worry, we don’t kill innocents or civilians. Even nosy ones.”

14. What kind of animal are you?

“I dunno. Probably like a coyote or somethin’. One of those animals that can survive in almost any environment. The ones that stubbornly refuse to die.”

15. Name your worst habits?

“I run off at the mouth, especially if I’m scared or hurt or nervous. Not, like--” she pauses, as if looking for the right words “I don’t give away information or anything like that. I’m not a snitch. I just… I’m a bit of a smartass, and a bit of a flirt, and in situations where I should probably not be talking, I’m doin’ one of those instead. Michael says it’ll get me killed one day. Sometimes he says he’ll be the one to do it.” She grins. “He doesn’t mean it. He adores me. Don’t let him tell you different.”

She slouches back in her chair, crossing her legs at the knee. “Besides that, I can’t sit still worth shit and I always forget to do the dishes. Also, don’t hand me any important paperwork because I will draw on it.”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Nope. Never really had anyone to look up to. Well, maybe…” she pauses, her eyes distant. “Maybe Kaidan. Never had anyone take a chance on me before he did. He’s the reason I’m here now. The reason I’m an Archangel. He’s kinda my… mentor, in a way.” She smiles to herself. “Him and Gabriel. But I can’t exactly say I look up to Gabriel, y’know? That gets into weird territories, when you consider my relationship with him.”

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

“Are those my only choices? ‘Cause those are not the only sexual orientations out there, sweetheart. I’m pansexual.” She spreads her arms out in an inviting way. “I’m an equal opportunity gal.”

18. Did you attend school?

“Sure. New York public schools. I even graduated. For Mouse, more than for myself. If I dropped out, he woulda done so too, and I didn’t want to drag him down with me.” She looks down, sadness in her eyes for a moment. “Guess I did anyway. Some best friend I turned out to be.”

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I don’t really care one way or the other about marriage, but if I ever have kids they’ll be adopted. I wanna give some kid the kind of home, the kind of family, that I never got to have. Unconditional and all that shit.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“Obviously.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder dramatically, then laughs. “Nah. If people know who I am, I’m not doin’ my job right, and if people are out there bein’ fans of the Archangels, then it’s Michael and Gabriel they’re swooning over, not Raphael.”

21. What are you most afraid of?

Her face goes abruptly blank and cold. “Being abandoned. Being alone. I’ve been there before… before Mouse, before the Archangels. I’ll burn this whole fuckin’ city to the ground if that’s what it takes to keep them safe. I’m not ever going back to that. Not ever.”

22. What do you usually wear?

“Usually?” She looks down at herself. “Oh, you’re askin’ about the suit! It’s standard Archangel uniform. Black suit, blue tie, mask.” She pulls a hockey mask out of the inside pocket of her suit jacket. It’s black and has what appears to be a cascade of red roses down the right side of it. “You like it? I designed it myself.”

She puts the mask back away. “When I’m not working, I like layers. Tank tops and flannel shirts and leather jackets. Skinny jeans or leggings or skirts and tights. Dresses short enough to stop traffic. Red and pink and yellow and black. A bit of Archangel blue sometimes, too, these days.” She tugs on her light blue tie again. “Rook told me I looked like a ‘punk rock supermodel’ once. Nicest thing he’s ever said to me.”

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

“Gabriel bakes the best fuckin’ cookies you will ever eat. There is a small chance I fell for those cookies before I fell for him.”

24. Am I annoying you?

She waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. I’ll take any excuse to talk about myself.”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

She smiles that knife-sharp grin again and runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “So when do I get to ask you questions, sweetheart? I’ll make it worth your time.”

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

She tilts her head to one side thoughtfully. “Y’know, I have no fuckin’ idea. I live in a pretty swanky apartment right now, but I don’t own it. I have a decent amount of money squirreled away, but most of it’s stolen. All of the above, I guess. I’m a homeless kid who lives in the penthouse suite.”

27. How many friends do you have?

She stops to think for a second. “Fourteen.” She looks surprised and clearly is counting them again in her head. “Wow. Fourteen. Huh. You know, two months ago the answer to that question was ‘one.’ Even if we’re just talking close friends, the answer’s still eight. I’m not… I got no idea what to say to that.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“I prefer cake, but I don’t mind pie either. Just don’t ask me to bake one. And if I do, I don’t recommend you eat it.”

29. Favorite drink?

“Tea with milk and sugar. Pretty sure it’s Mouse’s fault. That’s how it works, right? Blame your tea-drinking habits on your British friends.” She laughs lightly. “I’ve got too many fuckin’ British friends.”

30. What’s your favorite place?

“I like Father Murdock’s. I like the juxtaposition of it all. Church upstairs, black market downstairs. Nuns carrying AKs. It’s just ridiculous enough that it almost doesn’t seem real.” She sighs and her smile slips a little. “Favorite place used to be the Mill, but I guess we can’t go back there now. Gotta find a new base of operations.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

“Why, you hopin' you got a shot?” She looks you over slowly, a playful smirk spreading across her face. “I mean, you've already asked me if I was 'taken'. Since I am, it obviously means I'm interested in someone. Or are you asking if I'm interested in someone else?”

She stops to really think about it. “These days, I'm surrounded by a lot of gorgeous, interesting people. People that, in a different situation, I’d probably be real interested in. But if Gabriel's in the room, the rest of the world may as well not exist. He’s magnetic. It doesn’t make sense for a man to be so goddamn attractive when the only part of him not covered is his eyes and even that’s only sometimes, but I know I’m not the only one drawn to him. I’m just the lucky one.” She chuckles, and that fond smile is back, the same one she wore last time she spoke about Gabriel. “I always thought that 'I only have eyes for you' thing was a bit sappy, but damn if it isn't true.”

32. That was a stupid question…

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” She waves it off like she’s already forgotten about it, then smirks at you again. “If you’re actually interested, though, I got a few friends I could introduce you to. We can talk about it later.”

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“Ugh. I hate swimming. I’m not really a, uh, outdoorsy type.” She taps a fingernail against her bottom lip, thinking. “I guess a lake, if I had to choose. Less sharks and shit.”

34. What’s your type?

“You sure are askin’ a lot of questions about my love life, sweetheart. I guess it’s lucky for you that you caught me at a time I actually have one.” She chuckles and sits back in her chair, staring at the ceiling while she thinks.

She’s quiet for a long moment, then leans forward suddenly, her pale blue eyes intense. “You know what’s the most attractive thing a person can have, regardless of gender? Competence. There is nothing sexier than someone who knows their shit and does it well. That confidence someone has when they’re really good at something and they know it.”

She sits back again, some of that intensity draining away. “I’ve never had anything specific physically that draws my attention. Lucky for Gabriel, I guess, since I was already long in love with him before I really saw any of him. He’s got real good shoulders, though, y’know? Broad. Strong. Stubborn.” She laughs at the last one.

35. Any fetishes?

“Dunno. Most of my sexual experience has been pretty vanilla so far. Might be fun to find out.”

36. Camping or outdoors?

“No thanks. I did enough sleepin’ outside when I was homeless for a few months. No way in hell I'm sleeping outside on purpose. I’d prefer a roof over my head, if it’s all the same to you.”

She waits for you to ask another question, but when you don’t she just nods. “All right, good talk. This was fun.” She stands from her chair and straightens out her suit, then offers you a hand to shake. Her handshake is strong and confident, her skin warm. “You need to find me again, go see Father Murdock. Tell Greg you’re lookin’ for Raphael. He knows how to get in touch.” She walks away, steps fast and purposeful and almost silent, and you follow her outside.

She pulls a black ski mask out of her pocket and puts it on, covering her face except for her eyes and mouth and tucking her hair underneath it, then pulls that hockey mask out again and puts it on over it. She takes out a pair of black leather gloves and pulls them on too. When she looks back at you, there’s no sign of the woman underneath except for the pale blue eyes; if you hadn’t just been talking with her, you’re not sure you’d even know she was a woman, the suit and masks erasing any signs of personality or identity.

She waves jovially. “If I were you, I’d find someplace to lay low for a little while,” she says, and even her voice is different: colder, harder, her slight New York accent gone like it had never been there. “It’s not safe around here at this time of day. All kinds of dangerous people around.”

As if on cue, a black SUV pulls up nearby. The passenger-side front window rolls down and the back door opens. Inside, there are four other people wearing the same black suit and blue tie, their faces all covered by hockey masks. There seems to be no theme or color scheme among the masks. You wonder if any of them are the Gabriel that she spoke so highly of.

“Heya, boss,” a friendly, Welsh-accented voice calls from the front passenger seat. “You get what ya needed?”

Liv doesn’t reply, instead just pulling herself smoothly into the open seat in the back next to one very large man in body armor with a shotgun in his lap and one very small man with an open laptop in his. They both nod at her as she sits down, and she puts a friendly hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. He must be Mouse, you assume.

The driver calls out to you, and he also has a Welsh accent. “Might be best to forget you ever saw us.”

“And ya best hope you never see us again,” says the front passenger. Her accent and cadence of speaking are so similar to the driver’s you’re pretty sure they’re related.

Liv nods to you once more, then closes her door. You see the large man hand her what you’re pretty sure is some type of submachine gun. The driver gives you a jaunty salute and then they drive away.

You stare into the space where the SUV had been for a long moment. You should probably ask your boss for a raise; there’s no way you’re getting paid enough to interview Archangels.

#olivia ramsey #I ended up with a little bit of a fic at the end just because I like the idea of this being a Real Interview #with one of the most dangerous people in a vigilante crime syndicate #where you just casually ask her about her relationship with the Archangel's second in command #who may ACTUALLY be the most dangerous person in the city if not the country and maybe even surrounding countries #like the 3rd street saints in SRTT level of PR #(none of the people in the car were Gabriel btw in case anyone's curious)#(it's Mouse Kaz Anna and Charlie because that's Liv's crew)#also everyone should go play breach: the archangel job so I have people to talk about it with

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Episode 1, Part 3

Madoka is escorting Homura to the Nurse’s Office as pretty much every student ignores their lessons and watches them through the glass walls. I would say taking her there, but all Madoka’s doing is walking behind and nervously asking how the Mysterious Student knew she was the Nurse’s Aide. Homura just says the teacher told her and continues to lead the way. Clearly she doesn’t need Madoka to guide her, so what’s the deal?

And would you stop with the creepy chime music?! Seriously, if I saw this happening in a movie and they were two guys I’d be screaming at the follower to run away from the obvious serial killer. I mean it, the two keep passing fewer and fewer students, and now I’m looking at Homura in shadow with some sort of scowl on her face. But then she tells Madoka to call her Homura instead of ‘Miss Akemi’? Madoka tries to make conversation about how ‘unique’ Homura’s name is (as I don’t know Japanese I can’t comment one way or the other). And yep that’s a scowl, Mysterious Student is pissed. Yeah, super pissed as Madoka stammers on. And now she’s spun around in an (empty) corridor to face Madoka. Sudden dramatic zoom-pan as Homura asks Madoka if she considers her family and friends to be precious. (That's not ominous at all!) Madoka of course says yes. Shadowy Homura accepts this, and says if that is really the case then she wouldn’t try to change the person she currently is. Because if she does, she will end up losing all of those things.

Ok, am I reading this right? Did the Mysterious Transfer Student just threaten Madoka’s friends and family if she takes up the Protagonist Mantle? Because that’s what I’m getting. Madoka is very confused as Homura says she should stay the same, leaves her in a surprisingly dark hallway, given all of the glass what is with this building? Sorry, just a little unnerved by the creepiness of the last scene. What the hell is going on here? Sudden flute music as we get a montage of Homura dominating math and athletics, filling a board with dense equations and arcing over a high jump still with a completely neutral face, to the shock and awe of everyone around her. And still the most emotion she shows is the occasional glance at Madoka, now that there are witnesses. Whoa what. Sudden Rabbit-Thing in a tree watching. After school in a massive, fancy mall (what city is this set in? A real one, or standard Anime City?) Madoka apparently told Hitomi and Blue Hair about the hallway confrontation, Blue Hair bemoans that the smart and pretty looking student is some sort of weirdo. Hitomi asks if Madoka has ever met the Mysterious Stranger before, she… huh, you’re telling them about your dream/vision/thing from last night? Title drop! And Blue Hair laughs about how Madoka is acting like an anime character, teases that it must be from a previous life or something. Hitomi asks some more questions, and makes a rather sensible suggestion that they actually did meet before, this is her subconscious bringing out a minor memory in the form of a weird dream. Huh. But given Homura’s rather extreme and specific reactions to Madoka, you’d think that she’d recognize her better. So what’s the deal? Hitomi has to run to one of her many lessons, Blue Hair asks if she and Madoka can visit a music store on the way home. A CD for Kamijo? Have we met them yet?

Hey, it’s Rabbit-Thing! Running through a dark alley while barely dodging busts of light. Oof, got hit there, but it’s back up and running. What’s attacking it? Oh, there’s Homura! Or at least I think that’s her, given the shadows. Are you chasing whatever’s chasing the familiar? Cut to ok time out. When is this show set, in a post-scarcity world or something? Because I have seen music stores here in America, and they are not that fancy and open. And if I know anything about Japan is that space is at a premium there, a music store this large in America would be pushing it, let alone this presumably-Japanese Mitikihara. And from the looks of it it doesn't even have CD's on display, just kiosks to browse the selection and headphones to listen. A cool design, and one that would need maybe half the space I can see. Why is it so large?! Sorry, the show just irked my business-management side there. Back to the show. Blue Hair (Sayaka) and Madoka are listening to headphones (hey, isn't that the opening theme I hear? Nice touch!) when the lyrics take a dark turn. Or rather, Rabbit-Thing telepaths for help and Madoka's Protagonist Senses pick it up. Madoka wanders off into an area that frankly looks more like a mansion than a mall, with old-style lamps and a white-and-black checkered floor- Huh. White and black checkered. Like the dream-thing earlier. Coincidence? Madoka follows the Call To Adventure^TM to this floor (apparently closed for remodeling because it wasn't fancy enough yet), creeps into a dark construction area and proves she has never seen a horror movie by calling out "Where are you?". This is just asking for Hockey-Mask McMurder to come jumping out. Guh, the ceiling's shaking! And wow an extremely beat up Rabbit-Thing just fell down. Madoka swoops in and grabs it. But if something's been chasing it, maybe you should leave Madoka (and I) are startled by a chain falling and hey Homura's here! She's been creepy about Madoka before, but maybe she can get over that and help against whatever "Get away from that thing." Um. What. Wait. Homura was the one attacking Rabbit-Thing? Homura. Homura what are you doing. Why were you attacking the show's familiar and why are you now staring down after Madoka said she could hear it? PFFFAHAHAHAHA! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I'm sitting here getting all invested in this tense standoff and wondering just what the heck Homura is up to, when Suddenly Fire-Extinguisher. Sayaka apparently followed and provided a distraction, outright chucking the emptied extinguisher at the Mysterious Student. Now the two are running away as Homura dissipates the could with a hand-wave and what. What is going on? 2D butterflies and sudden trippy music and what is happening? Have you seen this before, Homura? Madoka and Sayaka are running, the latter wondering about Homura's outfit (huh, it is different, similar enough to the school uniform I didn't notice at first), Madoka's focusing on getting Rabbit-Thing some help. Uh, but it looks like the trippy environment is catching up to them, now they're stuck without an exit. "There's something wrong with this place." Yeah, no Kidding Madoka, the animation is all screwy! The girls are rightly freaking out as twitchy puffballs... with mustaches... look, I'm trying my best to describe what I'm seeing but there's so much going on, this is insane. So creepy Monarchs and Puffballs are dancing around the girls with creepy child chanting, strange symbols are flashing over everything, now there are scissors and thorns and JEBUS the Puffballs have blank eyeholes and twitchy mouths Finally! Some chains broke and landed around them in a circle as the creeps get blasted away. Took you long enough Homura, now stop being spooky for five minutes and help out the mundanes. Wait, that's not Homura. It's Blondie from the poster! Apparently she knows Rabbit-Thing (Kyubey) and thanks them for rescuing it (him, actually). Madoka says she heard a voice in her head, and Blondie says "I see". Like Homura did? Blondie's confirmed to be a Mitakihara Middle School student too, and is about to introduce herself when the creeps come back. Transformation time! Blondie tosses her gold egg-thing into the air and does a little jig (with some rather graceful yet driving music) as she gains a rather European outfit, complete with beret. The Puffballs scatter as she WHOA WHAT Ok, Blondie just summoned what looks to be a platoon's worth of rifles. Um. Listen, I started this with only the most basic of 'magical girl' knowledge. One thing I accepted as a given was that MGs used things like wands or tiaras to fight with, I definitely never heard of Sailor Moon pulling a gun on the Week's Monster! If MGs can actually use weapons in this show, then things just got very interesting. Seen here as Blondie unleashes an absolute storm of exploding bullets on the Puffballs. Somewhere out there an Ork feels like he's missing something wonderful. Literally seconds later, Blondie lands among the flaming wreckage, and the trippy background skedaddles. Homura finally shows up to look down at the other three (I'm sensing a pattern here), Blondie informs her that the 'witch' escaped and says she should hurry along to finish it off, she'll 'let' her take it this time. So they know each other? Partners? Um, no. Not partners, as Blondie says she'll "overlook what you did this time." I'm guessing she means attacking Kyubey (for some reason)? So if Homura was attacking Kyubey and Blondie considers him a friend... Am I looking at two factions here? What's with the disagreement over the familiar? Homura's not happy about Blondie standing against her (want to note that Blondie has kept this peaceful half-smile up this entire time), ultimately turns around and leaves to Madoka and Sayaka's relief. Blondie's doing some magic girl mojo on Kybey to heal him, we get a name of Mami as he wakes up. He thanks her for the healing and the other girls for rescuing him, and confirms it was his voice that Madoka heard. And he knows their full names. Which he knows because he has a request for the two: make a contract with him and become magical girls! Aaand credits! We've got a drawing of Hitomi, Madoka and Sayaka with some light guitar as a singer does Generic Anime Credits Song #527, not much to add here. After-credits picture of all four poster girls (Homura and Mami in magical girl outfits, Sayaka and Madoka in school uniforms) with Kyubey in the center, and the familiar saying "I will grant you one wish - any wish you desire!" And in response to the girls questioning, "Anything you want. I can grant you even the most impossible of miracles!" Wow. That was a very, very impressive first episode. Will put up my general thoughts after I've had some time to process this last part, I'm looking forward to the next one!

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm 1.3

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harringrovegals · 5 years

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Plant Your Feet

There was a basketball team for the girls, but it wasn’t very popular. Field hockey had somehow become the sport of choice for the girls of Hawkins High. It was so popular that cheerleading practice had long since been adapted to allow for the girls who wanted to, to participate in both activities, and since there was nothing better to do, Stevie Harrington had become one of those girls.

Field hockey practice had once been a highlight of her day. That day had started out no different. Stevie took out her frustrations on the field. Every one of Nate’s words that weekend spurred her to run faster, inspired her to hit a bit harder. Everything was going great until they were paired off for drills. Stevie found herself once again staring into Billie’s ridiculously blue eyes.

Billie grinned back, just as amused with Stevie as she had been at the party. Her blonde curls were pulled back into a ponytail that swung wildly with each move she made. She had claimed it was too hot to wear the usual practice outfit and instead stripped down to her sports bra and shorts showing off her toned stomach and golden tan. Stevie could see the goosebumps popping up on Billie’s arms. So it was a pride thing then, but how the hell did she not have tan lines? Did she just go naked in California or something?

Besides stripping off her shirt, Billie had also taken off her rings for practice. Her pendant still hung around her neck. It swayed in front of her chest, and Stevie couldn’t keep her eyes from following its path.

“I know. They’re impressive,” Billie whispered before letting out a breathy laugh. “Don’t be too jealous. Yours are perky enough.”

Heat flushed up Stevie’s neck and face. “I wasn’t... I was just looking at your pendant. Sure you want to keep that on during practice? It could break.”

Billie smirked. “Thanks for the concern. Now tell me, do you prefer passing or receiving? Cause personally, I like both” She tossed the ball up and down. When Stevie didn’t immediately answer, Billie tossed the ball her way. “How about you try passing first then?”

She stretched herself up to her full height and moved back a bit to prepare for the drill. “So, Stevie, let’s see if you live up to that reputation of yours.” Her voice was loud at that time, drawing the attention of a few of their teammates.

Their coach blew the whistle, and Stevie sent the ball sailing. Billie easily returned it, and they fell into an easy pattern. Each time they both brought a little more, trying to see what the other could handle. Stevie was actually enjoying it. Then a familiar headful of brown hair caught her gaze off the sidelines. Nate. She realized a second too late that Billie had already sent the ball her way. She cursed under her breath and turned, trying to receive the pass before it was too late. Her feet twisted, and she went down hard on the grass.

Billie’s skipped (she literally skipped) her way over and leaned over her with a grin and a helping hand that Stevie found herself grasping instinctively. Billie leaned in real close, close enough that Stevie could tell that unlike 75% of the girls in her grade, Billie did not wear the Love’s Baby Soft perfume but something much more natural and addictive.

“Harrington,” Billie’s voice was syrupy-sweet. “You may have a bit of built-in padding there, but it’s not going to protect that head of yours. Pay attention to your feet. Plant them. If you’re going to just fall over on your own, then what’s going to happen when something actually charges at you?”

Stevie nearly snorted. She knew exactly what she would do if something charged at her, scream and swing her bat. Okay. That maybe wasn’t the best thing, and maybe Billie’s advice was reasonable. She wasn't about to admit that though.

For a moment it felt as if Billie was going to drop her back onto the grass, but then she pulled upwards. “Don’t worry too much. I doubt the coach will bench you this soon.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

Billie stepped forward under the pretense of helping Stevie brush grass off the front of her uniform. “Only when there’s something better for my mouth to do.”

#fem!Steve Harrington #fem! billy hargrove #fem! harringrove #harringrove

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years

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For a Good Cause (1/2)

Emma wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t worried. She was maybe, kind of, sort of ridiculously excited. And just a hint anxious. Because she’d spent years watching Killian play on Garden ice and was almost getting used to Matt playing on Garden ice, but the thought of them playing together on Garden ice was enough to leave her heart beating just a hint faster than usual.

Add into the mix absurd trash talk and ridiculous bets and handmade signs and Emma wasn’t sure she was going to get through the day without setting some kind of record for sighing dramatically.

At least it was for a good cause.

Rating: T. They banter. They kiss. They scandalize their kids by flirting. AN: HAPPY HOCKEY SEASON EVERYONE, LET’S HOPE THE RANGERS AREN’T HORRENDOUS THIS YEAR! It’s time for me to get overly invested in the success of this ridiculous team and that, by extension, means it’s time to start posting an absurd number of words about the fictional version of the New York Rangers and this world that, seemingly, will not end. So, over the summer Zucc and Henrik hosted a charity hockey game and drafted their friends and it was as ridiculous as that sounds and both @optomisticgirl and @alicerubyfloyd were like “What if they did this in Blue Line?” And several thousand words later, here’s this. Time-wise, it’s July 2041, which makes Roland 31, Lizzie 24, Matt 22, Peggy 19 and Chris 13. Killian’s POV on Sunday.

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll.

“Sit.” “I can’t. Everyone is late.” “Wandering around this arena is not going to help.” “I don’t care.” “Swan.” “Killian.” Emma spun on the spot, pulled out of her pace mid-pace by several fingers around her wrist and the overwhelmingly effective smirk on Killian’s face and it wasn’t, technically, in the arena. He didn’t mention that. He probably knew it’d stress her out.

And that wasn’t even really the right word for it.

She wasn’t stressed out. She’d barely planned anything, was so used to doing events like these now she could probably come up with the schedule in her sleep and Merida had done most of it anyway. Emma had just agreed to do some Garden of Dreams promo and make sure the banners got to Chase Square on time and call someone in facilities about getting actual podiums set up.

That had been the most difficult part.

Stressed wasn’t the right word.

And it wasn’t worried either. She’d watched Killian play hockey for the better part of the last three decades and watched Roland play and Matt play and every single person that was, eventually, going to show up and stand by those absolutely absurd podiums was incredibly good at what they did.

They got paid millions for it.

Emma wasn’t really sure what emotion she was – unless it was generically annoyed because everyone was seriously late and Merida looked like she wanted to throw her phone at the will-call window behind her – but it might have just been some strange mix of nervous and excited and, well, mostly, nervous because she’d watched them all play hockey, but she’d never watched them play hockey together.

And she wasn’t sure she could handle her husband and her kid playing on the same ice at the same time.

“Swan, I can’t actually tug you down, it’s going to hurt my arm,” Killian muttered, and they both knew it was a great, big, enormous lie because he was probably in as good a shape as he’d been when he was playing. Maybe better. Well, no, maybe not that, but he still ran through Riverside three times a week and Emma was having more and more trouble thinking when she kept noticing new flecks of silver in his hair and--

“You’re trying to distract me,” she accused.

He nodded. “Yes, I am. Is it working?” “Not really, everyone is late.” “Or we’re just impossibly early.” “Is that really the word you were looking for?” Emma asked, hating whatever her voice was doing because his thumb had started tapping against the back of her wrist and she was ninety-two percent positive he didn’t mean to do it.

She didn’t think he even realized.

“I’m not really worried about the specifics of my sentence structure,” Killian said. “This is going to be fine.” “Of course it is.” He blinked. And his lips twisted, eyebrows pulled low when his eyes flashed up towards hers and Emma tried to make sure her smile looked as confident as she felt. That was one of the emotions she was feeling, she was certain.

She was confident. It was a great idea and it was going to be great and Garden of Dreams was going to make a shit ton of money for an anniversary thing that definitely deserved a charity hockey game with Rangers legends and some of the biggest names in the league today.

That’s what the e-mail blast had said.

Emma wrote it herself.

The whole thing had been her idea. She was pretty positive that was the only reason she wasn't freaking out. And she was having a lot of thoughts about Killian in uniform again. That were probably not appropriate for a game that also included her kid and her friends and Roland Locksley.

“Wait, what?” Killian asked, and Emma’s smile widened.

“Yeah, didn’t expect that at all, did you?” “I have no idea what the hell is going on now, love. Can you honestly sit down though, you’re going to do damage to the ground.” “The stone ground?” “Yes. Sit, Swan.” She rolled her eyes, but let him pull her towards him and she probably should have expected it – there was, after all, several decades worth of experience to all of this, but Emma wasn’t entirely sure if they’d ever made out in Chase Square and she gasped when Killian tugged her onto his legs. “That can’t be safe, pre-game,” she mumbled, appreciating whatever sound he made when she tried to get more comfortable.

“You’re going to make me think you don’t think I’m game ready.” “You were the one going on about the state of your arm,” Emma challenged. She twisted again, slinging an arm around his shoulders so her fingers could find the back of his hair and they really were there impossibly early.

“Ah, but we agreed that was a distraction. And this conversation makes no sense.” “Slow on the uptake, Cap.” He arched an eyebrow, letting his head fall forward so his lips landed on the curve of her shoulder and Emma’s emotions settled into something that felt a hell of a lot like flirting. Merida was going to throw her phone at them.

“I’m still waiting on that explanation, love,” Killian muttered. “The game’s going to be fun. We raise some money, we score some goals, we impress loved ones.” “Loved ones?” “I am consistently and only ever trying to impress you. Who I love. Quite a bit in fact.” “Is this still part of the distraction?”

He made a contradictory noise, mouth still pressed against her skin and there hadn’t been much argument about naming him captain of one of the teams. Emma wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever really stopped being captain of the New York Rangers. Or would. Any tense, really.

There’d been some discussion about the other team and it took, exactly, ten minutes for Robin to sigh dramatically and agree to Merida’s request – possibly because Regina had turned towards him and her eyebrows didn’t move at all when she glared. It was incredibly intimidating.

“It’ll be good for TV,” Merida promised. “Plus don’t you want to brag to Cap when you come up with a different team?” “Wait, what?” Robin balked.

“I mean...you’re going to have to stage a draft.” A draft. For a charity game. On Garden ice. In the offseason. With all proceeds going to a very good cause and an absurd amount of signed merch that was piled in Emma’s office and had recently migrated a bit to Matt’s old room because there was so much and Chris had only argued a little bit about helping.

He was thirteen he argued about everything.

There’d been more talking after Merida’s announcement, more planning and way too much trash talk amongst a group of former and current athletes than Emma entirely expected, but they were all way too competitive and it was only a matter of time before someone made a bet about something.

Or several things.

There’d probably be multiple bets.

“Swan,” Killian said, drawing out her name and pulling her out of memories and she startled against his chest. It was enough to work another groan out of him. “Look who’s being incredibly distracting now.” “You’re going to scandalize Mer.” “She’s way too busy trying to figure out who hit what traffic and how much she’s got to placate this growing crowd.” He waved his free hand, the one not currently wrapped around her middle, through the air and it was a testament to Emma’s current mental state that she hadn’t noticed the crowd or the media or the, frankly, ridiculous number of twenty jerseys around them.

She was still sitting on Killian’s right thigh.

“You think we scandalized all of them by whatever it was you were doing to my shoulder?” she asked, and she expected his answering laugh.

“Oh, absolutely. That was part of the distraction technique too.” “This is a very involved plan.” “Yeah, well, you were going to do damage to the ground by pacing right through it,” Killian countered. “So it seems to keep getting more and more complex with each passing moment. Also I know you’re worried they’re all going to be weird about this.” “Weird?” “Weird. Strange. Overly competitive. Absolutely refuse to draft Scarlet until the very final pick.” Emma’s jaw cracked when it dropped, fingers still where they’d been tracing patterns on the back of Killian’s neck and she swore his hand tightened around her middle. “Have you been staging secret draft meetings without me, Cap?”

He shook his head, but that felt like a lie too and the smirk was honestly absurd. It shouldn’t get more powerful as the years went on.

Merida had started yelling in the phone. Emma wasn’t entirely sure it was all English.

“No, no, no, no,” Killian stammered, and Emma had to move her eyebrows when she glared. She was never as good as Regina.

“You want to try that again?” “They’re not meetings, really…” “No, they’re, like, battle plans,” Roland said, appearing in front of them with a smile on his face and head-to-toe Flyers gear. Killian groaned against Emma’s shoulder. “Why are you guys sitting on the ground? Don’t we have chairs at this shindig?” “Please don’t call it a shindig in front of Mer,” Emma implored. “She’s stressed enough as it is. And where did you come from?” “And what are you wearing?” Killian added.

Roland crossed his arms. “I play for this team, Hook. It’s not like I’m going to show up in blue merch for this. I don’t care what ice I’m skating on.” “You practice that?” “Several times in the cab cross-town.” “Gina know you took a cab?”

The orange appeared to get stronger or brighter or some other verb that wasn’t possible because it was a shirt and not a sentient being, the longer Roland stood there. His eyes widened and his lips pressed together, and Killian practically cackled into Emma’s arm.

“If you tell Gina that I took a cab from the apartment, she’s never going to let me back into the apartment,” Roland hissed.

“Why didn’t you come with them?” “They were having breakfast when Henry and his kids. Because Henry is staying in a hotel and--” “--Didn’t get guilt tripped by Gina to sleep on the couch when he was home for the weekend,” Emma added, and she wasn’t sure if that was another laugh out of Killian or if he’d just never really stopped, but Roland’s face was almost too red now. “Go stand next to Mer, Rol,” she continued. “I’d like to compare shades of red.”

He stuck his tongue out at her.

“You’re a picture of maturity,” Killian chuckled. “Thirty-year-old man guilt tripped by his mother and then embarrassed by it.” “Ok, I’m not embarrassed by it,” Roland argued. “I just didn’t know it was going to be some kind of point of contention or fodder for trash talk or--” “--Are we trash talking you?” Emma asked, the sound of footsteps moving towards them and it sounded like Merida had finally taken a deep breath. She probably should have helped some more. She was way too busy flirting with Killian.

“Well, yeah. Right, that’s what’s happening? Isn’t it? Also where is everyone?”

“That’s a very good question. We think that’s what Mer is yelling about.” “Trash talking the trash talkers, huh?” Emma shrugged. “I’m fairly positive she’s upset no one is taking this as seriously as they’re supposed to.” “That’s not true at all. Dad and Uncle Will and Hook had some kind of meeting about how they were going to draft. Uncle Will was super pissed they wanted to draft him last and Uncle Liam laughed so loudly the rumors were it was going to do damage to Hook’s phone.” “How do you know that?”

It could not have been safe for Roland’s skin to keep shifting between pale and flushed so quickly. Emma tried not to laugh. Killian absolutely did not.

“Ok, you can’t be annoyed by this,” Roland said, holding both his hands up and Emma widened her eyes. She figured Killian moved his eyebrows – based solely off the blush-type reaction in Roland’s cheeks. “I’m pretty positive Uncle Will told Mattie because he thinks Hook is going to draft Mattie first, which, you know, obviously.” “And that means what, exactly?” Emma asked, only slightly frustrated she hadn’t been involved in any of these pre-draft meetings.

She should not have been surprised that there were pre-draft meetings.

They were all way too competitive for their own good.

Roland sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. It sounded like Merida was growling on the other side of Chase Square. “I’m, like, sixty-seven percent positive Uncle Will thought he could get Mattie to persuade Hook to break the pre-draft agreement and then he wouldn’t be angry about getting drafted last or whatever, but I don’t think Mattie went for it. I’m like ninety-two percent positive about that.” “These percentages are absurd.” “Math’s not his strong suit,” Killian grinned.

Roland kicked at his ankle. “If that’s your form of trash talk you are crazy out of practice, Hook. And I only know because I talked to Mattie yesterday because--” “--You were trash talking?” “I mean if I lie are you actually going to ground me?” “As previously discussed, mate, you are a professional athlete. Who is thirty years old. I don’t think I’ve got that kind of clout anymore.” “Thirty-one. Technically.” “Math’s not his strong suit either,” Emma laughed, leaning back when Killian hooked his chin over her shoulder and there must have been hair in his face. He didn’t seem to mind.

Whoever groaned behind them, however, very clearly minded quite a bit.

And was holding two different signs.

“Aw, c’mon, seriously?” Peggy sighed, flanked by a clearly amused Anna and a slightly disgusted Liam. Elsa didn’t look surprised. Lizzie’s eyes darted towards Roland’s immediately. She was wearing orange too.

“Right?” Roland laughed. He took a step forward, cheeks still far too flushed to be healthy and curls that were far too long because it was the offseason and hockey players were notoriously lazy when there weren’t games to be played.

At least the ones Emma knew.

Her fingers moved back to Killian’s hair.

“You guys know there are chairs here, right?” Peggy asked. Someone laughed. It might have been Elsa. It was definitely Elsa. “Where’s Uncle Robin? Does Dad win by default if Uncle Robin forfeits the draft?” “No one is forfeiting anything,” Emma said evenly, tugging on the hem of Peggy’s shirt when she moved in front of them. It was appropriately team-branded. There wasn’t a C on her shoulder. Elsa was still laughing. “I think that’d actually make Merida start to cry.” “Does Mer know how to cry?” “I’d really rather not find out.” Peggy hummed in agreement, sinking onto the ground without ceremony and letting her elbows rest on her bent knees. “Yeah, that’s fair. She know there’s some crazy accident on the FDR? That’s why we were late.”

“Locksley doesn’t have that excuse,” Killian reasoned. “They’d probably be coming up 10th Avenue anyway.” “You some kind of traffic soothsayer now, KJ?” Elsa asked, Liam’s arm still around her when she moved and Killian was going to do permanent damage to his eyebrows. “How come you aren’t letting Emma sit in a chair?” “He’s worried about the draft,” Liam answered. Killian flipped him off.

“Hey, c’mon, your kid is sitting right there!” “I’m almost twenty, Uncle Liam,” Peggy said, and Emma wasn’t sure what her soul did at that, but she was glad she was perched on Killian’s right leg when it happened. His arm tightened again. “I don’t think that makes me a kid. And Dad’s not worried about the draft.” Sprained eyebrows. Honestly. Emma wondered where Ariel was. Probably stuck in some other part of Midtown. Or the Long Island Expressway.

“Is he not?” Liam asked, and they were all going to be sitting on the ground sooner rather than later.

Peggy shook her head. “Obviously not. You hear about that trash talk he was giving Uncle Robin after he made that mistake on TV?” She let out a low whistle, eyes bright and only a little disconcerting and all of their kids were far too charming for their own good. They knew it too. “Could barely talk about the game without laughing in the middle of his segment. Nah, Dad’s crazy confident in his team already.” “Maybe you’re the soothsayer, little love," Killian said, smile obvious in his voice and Emma groaned when he leaned both of them forward to read the signs in Peggy’s hands. “When’d you make these? And when did you see the segment?” “On the plane. I think the lady next to me thought I was legitimately crazy. You know how expensive markers are in the Eugene airport? Highway robbery, honestly.” “Wouldn’t it be, like, sky robbery?” Lizzie asked, and Peggy rolled her eyes. “You make everybody signs or just people you’re related to and making out with?” Peggy appeared to be trying to melt into the stone ground. Merida stopped talking for half a second. Emma was, at least, ninety-seven and a half percent positive it was because of the look on Killian’s face.

“Thanks a lot, Elizabeth,” Peggy grumbled, and Lizzie didn’t answer, just leaned further against Roland’s side. Peggy didn’t notice. She was far too busy staring at her hands. They were still holding signs. “Ok,” she mumbled. “It’s not really like that…” “What is it like then?” Killian asked. Anna laughed that time.

“Jeez, KJ. That was way too hardcore for whatever it is we’re doing. Where’s your other kids?” “Chris is with Mattie,” Emma explained. She wasn’t entirely sure if Killian could actually answer. Or formulate any thoughts that were not about getting immediate and concrete answers out of Peggy. She bit her lip.

“It’s really not like that,” she said again, glancing up under her lashes and Killian’s whole body sagged against Emma’s. Liam mumbled something that sounded a hell of a lot like overprotective idiot under his breath.

“You do not have a leg to stand on this situation, Liam,” Killian warned. “See if I draft you later.” “Please, I don’t want to play for your garbage team.” “Oh don’t do that,” Anna groaned. “You want to be on KJ’s team, Liam.” “How you figure?” Anna muttered a string of curses, most of them in a language that was neither English nor Norwegian, and something cracked loudly when she leaned back against Peggy’s side. “Ignore that,” she said, a command to the whole lot of them and there was another car door slamming from Seventh Avenue. “Also, you’ve got to be on KJ’s team because otherwise you’re going to have to face off against Matt and that’s going to literally be the single most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you.” “And one time he fell off those rocks in Central Park and nearly sprained his wrist and had to come up with a lie to Mom and Dad about why he couldn’t move his hand without wincing,” Elsa added conspiratorially. Liam gaped at her. “Who’s the guy, Pegs?” Peggy gritted her teeth, glaring daggers at Lizzie. “I didn’t realize it was a secret.” “It’s not an anything,” Peggy shouted. “Margaret,” Killian muttered, and her whole body sagged forward when she exhaled dramatically.

“Who do we not know that’s playing in this game?” Emma asked. She tried to glance up through her skull when a hand landed on her shoulder and David grinned down at her.

“Your eyes are going to get stuck that way,” he said, Ruth plastered to his side and Mary Margaret was absolutely holding some form of baked good. “You know there’s a ton of traffic on the West Side, who decided to do this in the middle of the afternoon on Saturday?” “Ruby?” “God, remind me to yell at her about that, where is she?” “I have no idea,” Emma answered at the same time Peggy said “in her office, yelling at someone about the banners that very clearly aren’t here.” “How do you know that?” Peggy made a noise in the back of her throat. “She wanted to know where we were and if I was with you. And also where MD and Toph were.” “Are they not here yet?” Mary Margaret asked, already holding the Tupperware container out expectantly when Roland all but lunged at it. “And where’s the rest of the draft stock? Shouldn’t Robin be here? And Humbert?” Peggy froze. Liam chuckled.

“I’m not going to draft you solely so I can check you later, Liam,” Killian hissed, but his eyes didn’t move away from Peggy.

Emma reached out slowly, tapping her thumb on her lower lip in an effort to make sure she didn’t bite through it. “We don’t have time to get stitches, babe,” she mumbled. “And your brother will be mad if we steal his spotlight.” “Please,” Peggy countered. “The only brother’s who’s going to be mad about anything is Toph. Literally no one in the world has ever been more excited to see Dad play hockey.” Those emotions Emma was fifty percent certain she’d managed to corral a few minutes before reappeared in full force and the thought had crossed her mind more than anything else, the first and only time Chris would ever see his dad play on Garden ice and it made her heart do something and her pulse do something else and she wanted to scream and shout and jump up and down and one charity game should not be causing her so much personal turmoil.

She might make her own signs.

“Aw, we can’t even trash talk that,” Will said, and Emma wished they’d all stop teleporting to Chase Square. Peggy jumped up, concern over maybe boyfriends and guys who weren’t playing hockey, but had also grown up around hockey, forgotten as soon as Will moved towards them and he grunted when she threw the full force of her weight into his chest. “God, I’m not a hurdle, Margaret,” he mumbled, but there was a note of something in his voice and Peggy looked like she held on tighter. “You don’t have to try and jump over me.” “Shut up, Uncle Will.” “Aye, aye, ma’am.” She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck, and David was only slightly vocal about not getting a reception like that. Will grinned at him over Peggy’s shoulder. “Why are you guys all sitting on the ground? Where’s Locksley?” “Stuck in traffic with Matt and Chris and Graham Humbert’s kid apparently,” Killian said, catching Emma around the wrist before she could swat at his shoulder. Will’s eyes widened.

“Dad,” Peggy whined. “It’s not like that. It’s...the only people who got signs were you and MD.” “Wait, wait, Scarlet and I didn’t get a sign?” Liam asked.

“Liam, I’m seriously going to check you tomorrow,” Killian said. Will’s eyes still had not returned to a size that was correct for a human being.

“And I don’t think Graham’s kid is in the same car as Chris and Mattie,” Emma reasoned. It wasn’t easy to stand up, particularly when Killian’s arm seemed intent on melding into her body, but she managed to shift back to her feet and Peggy scrunched her nose when she pried her away from Will’s chest.

Her hair brushed Emma’s mouth.

“You’re no help at all either,” Peggy grumbled. “And it’s really not like that at all. Jer and I are friends. Lizzie’s just a giant jerk and--”

“--Mattie was the one who told me he thought he had to talk to this guy in person this weekend,” Lizzie interrupted.

“What?”

Lizzie held both her hands up, a rare surrender from anyone with the last name Vankald or Jones. There were more footsteps coming towards them. And heels. It appeared Ruby had descended from her office. “If you tell him that I told you that Margaret Elsa, I will push you in traffic,” Lizzie hissed, Roland clicking his tongue and Will mumbling oh shit in between laughing.

“Why is MD talking to you about this?” “Probably for the same reason we always talk about this. And because he was really mad we accidentally liked that one girls Instagram photo.” There was a chorus of what from the ever-growing peanut gallery and Chris slammed into Killian’s side, barely managing to get up before a thirteen-year-old inadvertently concussed himself on his ribs. “Slow down, kid,” Killian mumbled out of habit, and it didn’t work. It never worked. None of the Jones Line ever learned to control their limbs.

“Dad, seriously, I need you to stop making that face,” Peggy continued, seemingly unperturbed by the arrival of her younger brother when she was so clearly planning the murder of her older brother. “I can make a sign that says Jer and I are just friends if that’d help.” “I mean, it might,” Killian admitted. He flashed her a smile and his eyebrows twisted, tongue pressed into the corner of his mouth in a way that was supposed to be charming, but just left Peggy groaning against Emma’s side with more hair everywhere.

“And,” she added. “That Instagram thing happened literally years ago. MD was like--” “--A sophomore in college,” Matt finished, stepping towards them with Robin and the rest of the Mills-Locksley family close behind and both Emma and Will chuckled when Roland practically jumped to attention.

“Saw that,” she mumbled. He made a face.

“I was a sophomore in college, Margaret,” Matt intoned, hardly flinching when Peggy kicked and punched at him and Emma was going to end up bruised and battered by the end of this inevitable argument. “And that girl thought I was nuts after.” “Should have explained it better,” Peggy said. “And, you know, look at you now. I bet she’s really regretting that decision.” “She wouldn’t have had to if you and Lizzie were normal people!” “Ok, well, that’s just kind of rude, MD.” “Super rude,” Lizzie agreed, digging her chin into Peggy’s shoulder when she took a step closer. “Plus, who freaks out about that? A normal person would have thought you were just interested in--” “--Stalking her,” Chris finished. Matt lunged at him, more laughter ringing in the air and both Killian and Emma sighed, but that was as much reprimand as they were going to get out because they were incredibly behind schedule and their kids were some of the best trash talkers in the Tri-State area.

“We were stalking here a little,” Lizzie admitted, the smile on Chris’ face growing with every passing minute. “You late because you were stuck in traffic or because you were watching film?” Chris stopped laughing. And Matt froze, a picture-perfect impersonation of Killian being caught mid-lie that was absolutely, positively not on purpose. Emma’s emotions could not handle that day. Peggy nearly fell over when she cackled.

“Oh God,” she mumbled, shaking her hair away from her face. “You don’t get to say anything to me for the rest of the weekend, MD. I can’t believe you almost messed up Mom’s event because you were showing off for Toph. That one goal against the Pens was not that impressive, I promise.”

Matt blinked. And it took Emma, approximately, three seconds and one emotion-fueled gasp for everything to click.

Because no one had ever been more excited for Killian Jones to make his return to Garden ice than Christopher Jones – even through all that thirteen-year-old teenage angst.

“Wasn’t me,” Matt muttered. “And that goal was insanely impressive and you know it.” “You flatter yourself.” “Wait until tomorrow. You’re going to be stunned.” “That so?” “Guaranteed.” “Care to place a wager on that?”

Matt’s smile was as wide as the entire goddamn island of Manhattan, eyes flashing and hair falling towards his eyes and Roland was already demanding to get in on that action too, Lizzie rummaging in her bag for a notebook to make sure the rules were properly documented.

Emma moved, fingers lacing with Killian’s on instinct and several other things that would make everyone in a twenty-foot radius groan and gag and Chris had three cookies in one hand. “Slow down kid,” she said. “Didn’t your brother feed you?” Chris nodded, bobbing on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, but then we were watching the film from the first Cup run and he was letting me practice that shot Rook took--”

“--In his apartment?” “Matt doesn’t care about his security deposit. You see his rookie signing bonus?” Emma scoffed, but she couldn’t argue and Chris probably knew more about the contract than Matt did. At least as much as Regina did. “And?” she prompted.

“And that was a really good goal at the end of the game, Dad.” Killian’s hand squeezed Emma’s. “Thanks,” he grinned, wrapping another arm around Chris’ middle and pulling him back to his side and there was the teenage angst, right on schedule in disgruntled noise form. “Nah, nah, you don’t get to compliment me and then try and get out of being properly parented in public.” “That sentence doesn’t even make any sense.” “You want to get on the ice later?” “I mean...obviously, but only so I can figure out how you got enough speed on that breakaway.” “Don’t expect too much out of him, Toph,” Robin said, a kid clinging to his side who did not appear to appreciate the amount of noise the Jones Line was making. “He was running on adrenaline and the end of the game and trying to impress your Mom.” “Gross,” Matt and Peggy yelled in tandem.

“True though,” Will promised. “Almost always for like eons.” “It has not been that long, Scarlet,” Killian objected.

“Hasn’t it? Time flies and keeps on slipping and all that. I got a question for you, Cap.” Killian hummed, caution in the sound and Chris’ eyes darted between the two of them like he was watching a passing exercise. “Who’s going to wear twenty in this game?” Will asked, and it was like someone had pressed pause or pulled all the oxygen out of the entire planet and Emma was not entirely prepared for Ruby to curse as loudly as she did.

“Aw, shit,” she growled, stomping her foot for emphasis. “I didn’t even think about that.” “And you don’t have to,” Killian promised. HIs hand was still a vice around Emma’s though, and Chris appeared to have turned into some kind of stone, the number on his back growing larger with every passing second. Or at least it felt that way.

“Hey, what?” Matt asked sharply. “That’s my number.” Killian shook his head. “That’s my number.”

“Are you kidding me?” “Are you?” “I’m not giving up my number,” Matt said evenly, and Emma wasn’t sure who laughed loudest or longest, but she had to resist the urge to glance at the ceiling because her kid never really tried to sound like Killian, but it usually happened that way more often than not.

Killian didn’t move, didn’t pull his hand away from Emma, but she swore he got taller or more intimidating and Matt’s shoulders slumped slightly. “If I’m going to play in this game, then I’m going to wear my number,” Killian said.

“Captain voice,” Chris mumbled, Matt rolling his whole head in frustration.

“See if I feed you again later, C,” he groaned. “Dad, is this a joke? It’s my number. Currently. I’m going to wear it in a couple of weeks when camp starts.” “Because he’s a professional hockey player now, Hook, you see,” Roland grinned, gaze darting towards Peggy when she couldn’t keep her laugh in her body.

“I’m well aware of what he is, mate. I’m just not entirely understanding why that’s got any bearing on what number he wears for this game.” “I’ve never worn anything except twenty,” Matt cried. “This is insane.” “Nah, I think that’s just you and Dad, MD,” Peggy said. “Also you’re both ridiculously superstitious. That might be the most insane part.” “That’s definitely the most insane part,” Lizzie agreed.

“Ah, that was nice backup. Sorry for you calling you Elizabeth before, it felt weird when I was saying it. I’d like to never do it again.” “I’d like to never hear it again.” “Done.” Peggy shrugged. “Maybe Uncle Liam can just check MD tomorrow instead. It was his fault anyway.” “Consider it done, Pegs,” Liam grinned, Elsa only groaning slightly at the guarantee. It didn’t matter. Emma groaned loudly enough for the both of them.

“You guys can’t check each other,” she said. “It’s a charity game. We’ve had this conversation, I know we have. I was there.” “We don’t know how to play any other way,” Will argued. Ruby was never going to stop cursing. That was probably what the stories would be about. “And I really, really want to check Cap.” “I’m not drafting you, Scarlet, I don’t know how you’re going to check Cap,” Robin said.

Will checked him. Without a stick.

“Scarlet, if you do that again, I will never let you on Garden ice,” Ruby threatened.

“Can you actually do that?” “You want to challenge it?” “I mean, not particularly.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Ruby grinned, but that felt a little threatening too and Merida had finally hung up her phone.

“Are we all here?” she asked. Her hair was in even more disarray than Peggy’s. “Where’s Rook? And Humbert? Why did we invite Humbert?” Several pairs of eyes flashed towards Peggy, color rising in her cheeks and the toe of her shoe digging into the ground. “All of you guys are the worst,” she mumbled. “Can we focus on MD and Dad being crazy people instead? That’s way more fun.” “It is a little crazy, KJ,” Elsa said. “This is your kid. Wearing your number.” Killian narrowed his eyes. “A beacon of support, El. I can’t play on Garden ice if I’m not wearing my number. Peg’s right, it’s way too many superstitions.” “That’s ridiculous.” “You want to be responsible for the broken bones I’ll inevitably endure when Scarlet checks me?” Emma wasn’t sure what noise she made – a groan and gasp and possibly some kind of inhuman growl, but her head collided almost painfully with Killian’s shoulder and the twenty on her back was his twenty and they were arguing over possession of numbers.

“Wait, what?” Merida asked sharply. She looked like she was considering using the clipboard in her hand as a weapon.

“Nothing, nothing, Mer,” Robin promised. Killian’s eyes, somehow, got more narrow. “We’re super behind schedule, right? You look like you want to kill us.” “I don’t want to kill you. I want to know where Rook and Humbert are.” “Hey, hey, hey,” Phillip yelled, one hand in the air and Emma could just make out Canucks colors and Will was going to check Graham before he checked Killian. Before the game started. “We’re here, we’re here, Mer, please don’t curse us or anything. Did you guys start? Humbert was worried Cap was going to start without him so he didn’t have to draft him.” “Ok, I never said I’d do that,” Killian muttered, but that didn't ring quite true either and Peggy was biting her lip again. And doing an absolutely horrible job of avoiding Jeremy Humbert’s very obvious gaze.

“Right, right, God, should I be this out of breath before I’ve got to wreck all of you tomorrow?” “Wow, just starting real early with the trash talk, huh, Rook?” Ruby asked.

“I wanted to make up for lost time. Plus, I’ve got nothing on the Jones Line. Hey Pegs, when’d you land?” Peggy opened her mouth to answer, but Ruby was back to threatening and the media horde was starting to get restless and they really did need to draft a team. Preferably before Killian challenged Jeremy Humbert to one-on-one combat. Or Liam did. Or Will did. Or Matt did.

Peggy pushed her signs into Killian’s chest. “They both say skate fast,” she announced. “Because both you and MD are ridiculously fast and superstitious and I’m not that creative.”

Killian stared at her for a beat, those eons Will was talking about before seemingly passing by them just to prove a point or toy with Emma’s emotions. Peggy didn’t argue when he tugged her forward, brushing a kiss over the crown of her hair like she was a kid and not an even better athlete than her professional athlete brother.

“Thank you, little love,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go draft a team.”

That, however, proved to be more difficult than just standing at those absurd podiums with an absurd number of cameras pointed at them and Chris didn’t appreciate when Emma’s head fell to his shoulder. Peggy’s head was on his other side.

“I’m not actually a pillow person,” Chris hissed, while Ruby explained the rules and one player for every pick and please keep this rated PG and a few fans laughed at that. Robin won the coin toss to pick first. They literally flipped a coin. “God, P, stop digging your elbow into my hip.” “That is not where your hip is, Toph.” “Can you guys relax, please?” Emma asked, but it was drifting dangerously close to begging already and no one had even made a pick yet.

“Toph and MD didn’t invite me to their super cool, super hangout thing,” Peggy said. “That means I can do whatever I want with my elbows.” “I don’t think that’s entirely true, babe.” “And we didn’t know what time you were going to land,” Chris added. “So, like...move your elbow or I’m going to tell Jeremy Humbert you want to marry him.” Peggy jabbed him in the side, drawing a far too loud to be appropriate exclamation out of Chris that also led to him jumping to his feet and a shoulder slamming into Emma’s jaw. Killian’s head snapped up, both hands gripping the side of his podium with a wide-eyed gaze, like he was waiting for the inevitable broken bone or someone to find a stick somewhere and start hitting the other in the ankles.

Emma sighed.

And she almost didn’t hear it at first.

Peggy and Chris stopped arguing immediately.

“What?” Killian rasped, and Robin grinned like he’d already won the entire goddamn game.

“I said, with the first overall pick in whatever we’re calling this--” “--The summer classic, Locksley,” Ruby growled. “God, we’ve been over this.” “Right, right, yeah, that’s not very creative though.” “I’m going to revoke your captaincy, right here.” “Oh my God, Lucas, do it,” Will yelled, Liam shouting his own encouragements and Emma couldn’t actually see Matt anymore. He appeared to have slumped in his seat, Roland trying to pull him back up by the scruff of his own jersey.

“Say that again, Locksley,” Killian challenged. Robin’s expression didn’t change. “I’m drafting your kid, Cap. First overall, so, uh...congrats Matt, even better than your actual draft.”

Emma didn’t remember standing, only that she was and that was kind of a problem because her knees didn’t seem all that interested in functioning like actual parts of her body.

“It’s not like I didn’t get drafted, Uncle Robin,” Matt countered, but Robin shrugged and Ruby was trying to get him to come on stage so he could change jerseys. “Wait, wait, wait,” he sputtered. “This isn’t actually a joke?” “Please don’t call this event a joke, mini-Jones,” Ruby said.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Ru.” “Yeah, sure you didn’t. I really need you to put this jersey on and pose for a photo. Like twenty minutes ago, honestly, but your parents were probably flirting and--” “--Hey,” Killian cut in sharply, and Emma hoped Ruby hadn’t done damage to any of her teeth when she snapped her jaw closed. “Alright, with the second overall pick in whatever the hell we’re calling this ridiculous game, I draft Roland Locksley. And I’m keeping my number, Matthew.”

Robin’s mouth fell open.

“Oh my God,” Ruby mumbled, head in her hands and Merida had dropped her clipboard on the ground. “Mini-Jones, I wasn’t kidding about the photo. That goes for you too now, Rol.” Roland saluted. “Sure thing, Rubes. You see what a better choice the number two overall pick is? Ready and willing to report for duty.” “You’re a kiss-up,” Matt hissed.

“And that’s an insult you came up with when you were eight years old. It still doesn’t make any sense now, Mattie.” “Aw, c’mon.” “Mattie Jones, going to lose more than half his faceoffs tomorrow afternoon.” “You’re a winger, Locksley,” Matt challenged, and Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, her two other kids enthusiastically cheering for whatever against the rules trash talk was preventing Ruby from staying on photo schedule.

“Who’s not going to score any goals tomorrow,” Peggy yelled. “Down with the Flyers! Fly away home, Locksley!” “That was kind of funny, P,” Chris grinned.

“Right? I’ve been waiting to use that forever. Who shows up in orange in New York? You look ridiculous!”

Roland ignored both of them. “True, I am a winger, but you’re some kind of All-Rookie centerman, so that’s free bait to mock.” “That doesn’t make sense either! Yours makes less sense than mine did! At least I was eight, that gives me some more leeway to--” “--Guys, please,” Ruby groused. David was hysterical. The subReddit was probably already talking about this. Emma was pretty positive there was a live stream somewhere. “Locksley you’ve got to make another pick.”

“Of course, Lucas,” Robin said. “I’d like everyone to take notice that my draft pick couldn’t take his picture in a timely fashion because Cap’s draft pick stalled him.” “That’s your kid, Locksley,” Killian yelled.

“No, no, for the next forty-eight hours, that’s your right winger.” “Oh my God. I want Rook on my team.” “Cap, you can’t go out of order,” Ruby yelled, jumping slightly in frustration and Phillip was already standing up.

“Yeah, I don’t care. Rook, c’mere, you know how to take faceoffs?” “Are you kidding me, Killian?” Liam shouted. They were all, apparently, going to stand up now. “You’re going to draft a winger before you draft an actual centerman. Whose rookie record for faceoff wins stood for a very long time.” “He’d like the record to show,” Anna intoned dramatically. Elsa had to put her hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. It didn’t work at all.

“Yeah, how’d that work out for you, Uncle Liam?” Matt asked archly.

Liam crossed his arms. “Don’t get uppity on me, kid. I’m willing to bet at least twenty bucks and some form of food for both you and your constantly hungry brother, if I win more faceoffs than you tomorrow.” “What if we’re on the same team?” “And I’m not always hungry,” Chris objected, a choir of ehhs raining down on him.

“C, you literally ate an entire box of cinnamon LIFE this morning,” Matt sighed, refusing to acknowledge Peggy’s outcry at that. The media horde was going to have a field day with this. “Alright, Uncle Liam, you’re on. No matter what team we’re on. You win more faceoffs than me, I want food, real food, not street cart shit.” “Matthew,” several adults shouted, and both the media and fans laughed loudly.

“You got a deal, kid,” Liam said, finally sitting back down.

Ruby inhaled, shoulders moving with the force of it. “Can we take two seconds to focus on what we’re actually here to do?” she snapped. “Cap, you can have Rook, I honestly do not--” “--Hey, I thought there were rules,” Robin interrupted. He’d definitely done damage to several teeth when Ruby very clearly tried to turn him to stone with the force of her glare. “Fine, fine, fine, then I take Humbert.”

Graham flashed a cautious smile over his shoulder, and Killian groaned, slouching so his forearms rested on the podium.

“Hey, remember that time Humbert punched, Cap?” Will asked brightly. “That was fun. What good memories we’ve got, huh?”

“You’re not doing your draft stock any favors, Scarlet,” Emma chided. He winked at her.

Ruby had sat down at some point. This was going to get its own 30 for 30 based solely on the absurdity of it all. “Alright, Locksley,” she said. “Back to you.”

It went that way for what felt like several increasingly long eternities, Emma tugging Chris back down so she had something to lean on and he didn’t bother arguing when Peggy moved to rest her head on his leg. And Emma couldn't really say she was surprised. Even if she hadn’t known about the pre-draft meetings, she knew both Killian and Robin would absolutely try to pick Will last, but she hadn’t expected it to come down to him and Liam.

There was a considerable amount of cursing going on in Norwegian.

“This is honestly insulting,” Liam announced, not for the first time.

“And embarrassing,” Elsa chipped in. “Babe, you’ve got to sit down. The pacing thing is freaking me out and you’re only playing into KJ’s plan.” “I have no plan, El,” Killian promised, but his eyes flickered towards Emma and his answering smile when she mouthed liar was honestly unfair. “I’m merely weighing my options.” “You’re being a jerk is what you’re being, KJ,” Anna corrected. “Lording your power.” “You think Liam will pull a hamstring from pacing so much? Can’t be healthy or a guy of age.” “Oh screw you, Killian,” Liam seethed, wincing when he realized what he’d said. “Sorry, Lucas. Just like...tell the media not to listen to me or something.” “Yeah, I don’t think it works like that,” Ruby said. She was still perched on the steps leading to the podiums, but she’d coerced Matt next to her some time in between the tenth and eleventh pick and they both looked dangerously close to falling asleep.

Emma wondered how much film had actually been watched the night before.

“Seriously, Cap,” Robin sighed. “It’s not that hard. Pick Scarlet and live with your spotty at best defense.” “What the hell, Locksley?” Will seethed. “Listen, you’re more removed from the game than I am. By, like, actual seasons.” “Four seasons, Scarlet.” “Five, actually. Do you not know how to tell time?” “God, did you really play that long after I retired?” Will nodded quickly, sarcasm practically radiating off the movement. “Yeah, you’re old, Locksley. And you are notoriously terrible in the defensive zone, so maybe you’re the one who needs a defender in this game.” “Where are you trying to get drafted, Scarlet?” Emma asked.

“At this point, I genuinely don’t care. I just want to go before Leader, so I can brag about that for the rest of time and then we can all get some food somewhere.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Ariel said, perched on the same seat as Mary Margaret with what appeared to be cookie crumbs sticking to the pads of her fingers.

Ruby made a noise that was equal parts absurd and impressive. “Did you teleport here?”

“Snuck in during the whole who gets to draft whose child debacle. M’s fed me, but this has honestly taken several lifetimes, right? Did someone feed Chris? He’s probably chewing Emma’s arm off back there.” “He and Pegs went to get pretzels like twenty minutes ago,” Emma explained. “You hit traffic in the tunnel?” “Someday that construction will be over. Hey, Pegs, how was your flight?”

Peggy opened her mouth to answer, but Ruby clicked her tongue and Liam threw his head back and there really weren’t many fans left. They’d exhausted the fans with their nonsense.

“You’ve really got to pick, KJ,” Elsa said, a note of ancient command in her voice that made several next-gen children sit up straighter. “Just take Liam so Anna and I can freak out about it.”

Killian tilted his head, and Emma could almost hear the thoughts and the metaphorical gears, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do if that happened, but the world still didn’t seem to care because--

“I’ll take Liam,” Killian said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big and huge and emotional deal. “Need a centerman anyway.” “Wow, that’s a glorious show of support, little brother,” Liam muttered.

“Younger. And it’ll be easier for you to face off against Matt if you’re actually facing off against Matt.” “Jeez, Dad,” Matt mumbled. “That competitive streak knows no bounds, huh?” “You wouldn’t give me my number.”

“You going to score on a breakaway to impress, Mom?” Killian’s eyes flashed back towards Emma, standing again with an arm around Chris and something fluttering in her chest that might have been her heart or her pulse or the same thing it had done for eons because he still looked at her the same way he had all those same eons ago.

And she knew the answer to the question already.

“Every single time,” Killian grinned. Smirked. It was really a smirk. God, that worked so well.

Peggy gagged. “You better score a breakaway too then, MD. Show off that speed or something.”

“Yeah, well, you made a sign, right, Mar?” he asked. She nodded. “Alright, alright, well, I’ve got a distinct lack of cinnamon LIFE in my apartment now, so what do you say, Dad?” Killian quirked an eyebrow. “To?”

“A wager. Best breakaway has to refill my apartment with food because your kid depleted all my recently purchased groceries and probably will when he stays over again tonight.” “I’m staying over again tonight?” Chris asked, excitement obvious in every letter.

Matt shrugged. “I figured.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah, ok!” “Hey, uh, not to spoil this undeniably adorable and only slightly debaucherous Jones family moment,” Will cut in. “But is anyone going to bother to draft me because it’s garbage you guys are being jerks about this.”

Robin laughed, jumping off the podium with an agility that was only slightly surprising. “Sure thing Scarlet,” he said. “I draft you, and if you let up a single goal, especially a Cap breakaway while you’re on the ice, I will check my own top defenseman, deal?” “Jeez, Locksley, you are insane when given any power. Gina, you know he’s like this?” Regina waved her hands through the air, a grandkid asleep on her shoulder. “I’m refusing to acknowledge any of this. I’m showing up in orange tomorrow, Jones, try and keep me out of the Garden.” “I wouldn’t dare, Gina,” Killian promised. He glanced back at Matt, a smug smile on his face and arms crossed over the twenty that really was both of theirs and Emma was going to hurt her neck shaking her head so often. “Alright, kid,” he said. “We’ve both got to try for breakaways, whoever gets it wins?” “What if you both get it?” Anna asked.

“Mom’ll judge,” Matt shrugged.

“No, no, no,” Emma exclaimed. “I am not doing that. I am not picking sides in any of this. This is absolutely insane and superstitious and I expect goals from both of you.” Killian laughed softly, covering more ground than Emma was entirely ready for and he was in her space almost immediately, lips on hers and a hand on her hip and the entire neighborhood probably groaned at that. “Deal, Swan,” Killian muttered, not bothering to move away from her mouth. “I’m totally going to win, though.” “God, that��s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.” “This doesn’t answer the question though,” Anna pointed out. “If you guys both score on breakaways, then someone’s got to win the bet. Matt can’t be without cinnamon LIFE forever.” “God forbid,” Killian chuckled.

“I’ll do it,” Will said, a note in his voice that refused any questions. “I doubt either of them’ll score because my defense will be that good against Cap and Dr. J absolutely cannot cope with beating Cap, so I’m going to win by default. But I’m more than happy to judge if they manage to try it or whatever.” “Eloquent as always, Scarlet,” Robin murmured.

“Yeah, well you should have drafted me earlier. Can we eat now or should we stick around and scandalize the New York media some more?” “Nah, I think we’ve done more than enough of that,” Ruby said. “I refuse to share a cab with Cap and Emma. They’re going to make eyes at each other.” “Not true,” Emma argued, an arm around her shoulders and kids already groaning before she added. “We’re totally going to make out in the back of the cab, so…” Killian kissed the top of her hair. And hailed a cab. And made out in the backseat.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan #captain swan fic #cs fic #blue line one shots #CHRIS JONES IS REAL EXCITED TO SEE HIS DAD PLAY HOCKEY AND IT'S MESSING WITH EMMA'S EMOTIONS #everyone is a superstitious mess

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lumosinlove · 5 years

Text

Sweater Weather

part iii

Remus didn’t always have too much time for it, but there was nothing he liked more than sitting on the bench and watching Gryffindor City’s Hogwarts Stadium fill up with red and gold. The waves of chatter got louder and the seats filled, and it was a nice balance to the energy in the locker room as he walked back down the tunnel and through the doors, leaning against the wall with Moody. There, in case they were needed, but out of the way.

Even more than watching the fans, he liked watching the boys get ready. Kasey was down on all fours in a butterfly squat, full-pads making his body look huge and his head look tiny. Leo was down the hall some, throwing two balls against the wall and catching them quickly. Remus’ eyes blurred after watching for a minute and he looked away. Which turned out to be a mistake in itself.

Sirius was sitting in his stall, shirtless and knees spread to accommodate the stick he was taping between them. He didn’t have any of his pads on yet, typical Sirius, who always had to get ready at the last minute because he spent so much time on his stretches and sticks. He was just in his underarmour, the tight material leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. He had a Lions’ hat on backwards and stray strands of hair were sticking out of the front, casting shadows on his cheeks. He stuck his tongue out and wound the tape carefully around the blade of his stick, checking for wrinkles and creases every other turn. James was saying something to him with broad hand gestures, probably a play he wanted to get perfect tonight.

They all wanted to get everything perfect tonight. It was the home opener. The crowd would be wild, and the pressure would be on. Remus loved every second of it and he knew the boys did, too.

James let out a loud whoop then, clapping his hands together and and throwing his helmet on even though his pads were still hanging in his stall. “Let’s fucking go, tonight, eh boys? Durmstrang fuckers won’t know what hit them.”

He was met with a series answering shouts of approval, all of which amplified when Coach Weasley appeared through the locker room doors with the large lion on it. He grinned and held up a little slip of paper, tonight’s line up.

“Pots, since you’re already standing, why don’t you do the honors?” Arthur said, handing James the paper.

James hit his helmet on his head. “Alright, let’s see. Starting tonight,” the boys yelled and James dropped down a little, knees bent and voice low like the commentators, “in the cage,” there was another round of shouts and James wound up his arm and then bounded over to Kasey, “we have the man named for the sport of hockey itself, Kasey Winter.”

There were a series of “Yeah, Kase!” and “Be the fucking blizzard!” before James could continue.

“Next we have…on your left, Harzy!��

Harzy looked up from where he was lacing his skates with a little salute to the cheers.

“On your right,” James smiled around at them all, so wide that Remus could see where one of his outer bottom teeth was still missing, just out of sight. He pressed a hand to his own chest, “yours truly.”

“Alright, Potty-mouth!” Kasey shouted the nickname James had earned himself for his relentless chirping on the ice, name-calling and poking fun until the refs eventually had to call him on it.

“Your favorite D-man pairing, Kaner and our resident Finland-man, Olli!”

Timmy Kane and Olli Halla did some strange, complicated handshake.

“And your center tonight…the man, the myth, the one who holds the record for most marriage proposals by teenage girls at the glass,” Remus laughed at that and James ran back over to Sirius, pretending to take his stick just to see him flinch back, and taking his hat instead and placing it on top of his own helmet, “oh captain, my captain, Sirius mother-fucking Black!”

Everyone clapped a little, Arthur shaking his head fondly and Moody letting James run over and touch his leg for good luck, per tradition, and then it was really business time. There was some calmer chatter as everyone got into their gear and laced up, getting into the right headspace for a game.

Remus rifled through his own inventory in his head, making sure he would be prepared on the bench. He had extra blades for everyone, laces, sterile gauze, and a little box for teeth which he’d learned to keep the hard way (Olli Halla spitting a few directly into his open palm). He took one last look around the locker room before heading back to the mouth of the tunnel at the bench where the guys would pass on their way out for their lap-around introductions under the lights and warm ups. He could see some of the Durmstrang equipment guys over on their bench, and they exchanged nods that were friendly enough. Eagles games were always odd, not just for the competition—they had nothing compared to Lion and Snake games—but because their colors were nearly identical, and so the away-team always had to wear their more solid colored third-jerseys. Remus was glad they were on home-ice, so the Eagles would be the ones stuck in their nearly all goldish-yellow uniform, not the Lions.

Remus looked up at the stands, figuring his parents were out there somewhere, trying to keep Julian at bay, who was no doubt in his BLACK jersey and bouncing out of his shoes with excitement. At nine years old, Remus sometimes wondered if his little brother was a bigger Lions fan than even him, despite living halfway across the country from them.

He had a sudden fantasy of bringing Jules back to the locker room and Sirius being there, maybe James, too, and Sirius would give Jules a hockey stick maybe, and then smile at Remus—

“What’s with the face?”

Remus started, looking at Moody who had brought out the fresh bottles of gatorade and water.

“What? What face? Nothing.” Remus reached forward and started to help him line the bench with them. “I wasn’t making a face.”

“Alright, at ease.” Moody laughed a little. “Jeez, Lupin.”

Remus desperately tried to change the subject, “How’s the lucky leg?”

Moody scoffed, giving it a stomp. “It’s been kissed by Harzy, that’s what. Fucking crazy-ass.”

Remus laughed and sat down on the bench, looking up towards the jumbo-screen where they were showing a video of a few of the guys saying what they did that summer. James was on, giving a typically sarcastic answer. Something about hamburgers. When Sirius’ faces came on next there was a positive roar from the crowd and Remus felt flushed with their enthusiasm. Gryffindor loved their Captain, and they were just as eager to avenge him as the team was. It was pretty fucking thrilling to sit and watch it all, but if he could, Remus would be out there on the ice, fighting to get Sirius ever goal and point he could. He pushed that thought down just as the lights shut off and the music stopped, signaling the beginning of the Lions’ entry onto the ice, their first of the season. Remus’ heart pounded.

“Gryffindor!” boomed Frank Longbottom’s voice, one of their beloved announcer. Frank came with the team on the road, along with Marlene McKinnon. Butts and Kinzy were well loved by the team, and, maybe unfortunately for them, the subjects of many pranks, but Remus was sure they loved the boys’ attention as much as he himself did. The crowed boomed back in response and then the jumbo-screen bloomed to life, along with the lights and the lasers that streaked across the crowd and ice.

“Are you ready?” Frank asked the stadium, and then the jumbo-screen started counting down from ten with loud booms that quickly developed into a bass-heavy song.

“Ten…nine…” Remus found himself smiling, mumbling the numbers under his breath.

“Your Gryffindor Lions!” Frank drew out the words and the lights went crazy as the boys appeared down the tunnel.

Kasey came first, goalie mask propped on top of his head as he skated out onto the ice. Then Timmy, Finn, Leo…Olli, Brady, Evgeni, Kris, Tyler…

They all looped around the rink, warming up and pounding on the glass, laughing when the crowd pounded back. Remus liked watching the rookies the most, their eyes alight with the attention and praise.

And finally James, always second to last, and then Sirius, always last. Remus watched him come all the way down the tunnel, just in time for his name to be read out by Frank. Sirius raised his glove and knocked it into a few of the kid’s fists who had made it down by the glass, before scampering back up to their parents, delighted with having received a fist-bump.

Remus didn’t expect Sirius to look back at him, but for the split second between him being beside the bench and him being on the ice, their eyes met. And Sirius dropped a wink. And he was gliding away, dropping to one knee as he went and raising his stick a little, drawing screams from the crowd. They were happy to have him back. Sirius was cocky, and Remus didn’t like to admit that he loved that, but he did.

Sirius belonged on the ice, that much had always been clear, and when he wasn’t there, something was out of gear. Everything felt settled now, ready.

The lights came up after a bit and then Eagles filtered on, too, taking shots at their goalie. Victor Krum crossed center ice and met Sirius where he was talking to James, offering a somewhat stiff hand. Sirius smiled, so Remus guessed he had welcomed him back. The Eagles were good like the Snakes, but they weren’t assholes like they were. Remus watched Sirius pluck at Krum’s shoulder, no doubt chirping him for the bright yellow color, and Krum laughed, nudging him back and skating away.

Kasey was busy nesting his goal, scraping up the crease with his long goalie skate blades and catching the boys’ practice shots. Remus watched him for a minute, always enjoying how specific and protective Kasey was of his goal (he patted his posts whenever a puck got knocked askew by one, for god’s sake), but soon his attention was—predictably—dragged away by Sirius. Sirius had a routine, a strict routine, and there was few things Remus loved more than watching him go through it. Remus wasn’t sure he even knew about all of it, but he wanted to. He knew Sirius had to tape his own sticks, do specific stretches in a specific order, had to put his left skate on first, and during warm-ups he had to trace the Lions logo with a puck. He knew Sirius liked to have two pieces of toast with butter and honey an hour before games. Remus wished he knew more, secretly. He wanted to know how long Sirius’ pre-game nap was and what he looked like when he woke up from it—

“Earth to Remus Lupin.”

Remus’ slowly spiraling fantasy was abruptly cut off by James waving a glove in his face.

“What?” Remus stood up. “Sorry, what’s up, what do you need? James, face-off’s in like two seconds, you’re on first shift.”

“I just want some gatorade and it’s all red.” James practically pouted.

Remus huffed out a laugh and handed him a blue, shifting to the side as the other team members shuffled down the bench, coach Weasley slapping a few of them on the back. “There, now go!”

James whooped and skated off to take his position. Sirius was at center ice, eye to eye with Krum, the ref between them with the puck. They crouched, eyes on the puck, and Remus said a soft prayer to whatever god anyone could believe in.

The ref dropped the puck, and the game began.

Remus was on his feet the entire time. He was meant to be watching for any trip-ups, any hard hits, anything that might need to be looked at. Instead, he kept catching himself just enjoying the game, standing behind the bench. Sirius came careening over the boards, tapping Brady’s butt as he jumped onto the ice to replace him, and sat down heavily in front of Remus. He turned, sweat dripping down his temples.

“iPad,” he said, and one of the assistant coaches held it out to him. Sirius stayed turned, brow intense as he watched a replay of his latest shift, and so Remus got to study his profile. He loved Sirius in the heat of a game, loved how fast he talked. He leaned over to explain something to Olli, who leaned in like if he didn’t catch every word, he’d parish. Everyone on the team tended to listen to Sirius like that, like he was their leader through thick and thin.

“How’m I doing?” Sirius said as he handed the iPad back. Remus assumed he was talking to the coaches until Sirius’ eyes fell on him.

“Me?” Remus asked—stupidly.

Sirius smiled, “You.”

“You look great out there. You know you look great out there.”

James laughed, whacking Remus lightly in the stomach with his glove. “Way to call him on it, Loops.” Then the whole bench leaned back as Brady shoved an Eagles player nearly over the boards and into the bench. The crowd loved it, and James banged his stick on the boards after them. “Way to go, Shady-Brady!”

They were gone shortly after that, Coach calling for short shifts for the end of the first period.

“Keep ‘em coming boys, keep this lead!” he was shouting.

The Lions were up 3-1, and the atmosphere was electric. Remus loved this. It was the closest thing to being on top of the world there was, he thought. Suddenly, Sirius was on a breakaway up the ice off of a clean pass from Harzy. He skirted around number 16, number 3, with hard edges, and then he was nearly at the net—

Krum came out of nowhere, slamming Sirius into the boards.

Remus was on his feet in a second, pressing up behind Tyler and Evgeni on the bench.

It was a clean hit, but it felt like ages before Sirius got up. Remus didn’t even watch Krum take the puck, didn’t watch Kasey miss it, didn’t watch their goal-horn light up, didn’t watch the scoreboard change to read 3-2. He didn’t watch the Eagles celebrate.

He watched Sirius skate towards the bench. It was just for a shift change, but Remus looked over every part of him, checking for a limp, a wince, anything. He looked okay. James was on him in a second, skating shoulder to shoulder and talking to him. Sirius was nodded, even smiling a little, but Remus could tell he was shaken. To have something like that happen in the first game, and when he’d just gotten back…

The stadium filled with booing that felt like it shook the walls.

Sirius took his seat on the bench, but before Remus could get through his teammates and to him, the buzzer signaling the end of the first period was sounding and everyone was filing off the ice and back into the locker room. Good, Remus thought. He’d ask to see Sirius, he’d check him out fully, just to be safe.

Marlene was waiting for Coach at the end of the tunnel.

“Hey Arthur, who can we have for media?” she asked.

“Not Black,” Remus stepped in, “I want to check that hit.”

Coach nodded, “right. You can have Pots, or Kasey, I think.”

Marlene nodded and shot Remus a smile, which he returned tightly as he pushed between them and into the locker room. Sirius looked up at him almost immediately, like he had been waiting.

Remus only had to jerk his head towards the quiet and training rooms, before Sirius was getting up and following him. Remus held the door open to the quiet room. It was technically for concussion testing and protocol, and Remus hadn’t seen Sirius hit his head, but better safe than sorry. Sirius stepped inside and Remus closed the door.

“How do you feel?” Remus asked, then pointed to the padded observation table. “Sit there. I’m going to check your ankle and your head.”

“Loops—”

“Does anything else hurt?”

“Remus.”

Remus looked up.

Sirius loomed over him anyway, but he practically towered over him while wearing skates. Remus nearly had to crane his neck.

“What?” Remus asked, a little breathlessly.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a bad hit.”

“I know. But given your recent history I want to make sure everything’s fine.”

Sirius sat down on the bench and took his helmet off, laying it to the side along with his gloves while Remus bent to start unlacing his skates. Remus’ heart was still pounding, and Sirius’ gray desperate eyes filled his head. He wouldn’t be helpless this time. He’d fixed Sirius’ broken bone, and he wouldn’t let anything go amiss, not now.

“Durmstrang’s always a tough one to call, eh? Sometimes they’re brilliant and sometimes they’re…”

“Angry?” Remus supplied, carefully sliding Sirius’ skates off of his feet before rising.

Sirius laughed a little, “Yeah. For sure, yeah.”

“Look here.” Remus held up a small flashlight and a finger. Sirius looked, but right at Remus, not his finger. A small smile was still lingering on his face. “My finger, Black.”

Sirius laughed again but obeyed this time.

“When’s your birthday?”

“November third.” Sirius supplied easily.

“When is Pots’ birthday?”

“March twenty-seventh. When’s your birthday, Re?”

Remus chest fluttered a little. He clicked off the flashlight, satisfied. “March tenth.”

“Hey, you and James are birthday-buddies.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Raise your arms. Touch your—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sirius obediently brought his fingers to his nose and back out again a few times, then, without prompt, got up and walked in a straight line, toe to heel, and turned and looked at Remus expectantly.

Remus narrowed his eyes at him. “And your ankle? Tell me the truth.”

“Fine.” Sirius smiled and sat down in one of the chairs in the room to start getting his skates back on. “Really, Loops, I’m alright. It probably looked worse than it was.”

“It took you a bit to get up.”

Sirius shrugged down at his laces, digging his heel in to pull them tight, “I’ll admit, I was a little surprised. It’s the first real time I got hit since…you know. Since Snape. But you said it yourself,” He looked up at Remus then, sweat damp hair falling into his eyes a little, cheeks flushed, “can’t let the fear get to me, can I?”

Remus swallowed dryly. “Right. Yeah.” He watched Sirius until he was standing again and pulling his gloves back on, tucking his helmet beneath his arm. “Right, right. Sorry.” He opened the door, “Have a good second period, okay?”

Sirius paused beside him in the doorway, tall as ever with his skates back on and looking down at Remus. “Hey.”

Remus looked up at him. Sirius had a funny expression on his face, something soft and determined.

“Don’t ever say sorry for helping me,” Sirius’ voice was low when he said the words.

Remus caught one last glimpse of the odd expression, and then Sirius was gone, enveloped back into the energetic mass of the team.

They won 5-3, Sirius with three points, two goals and one assist, in the second and third period.

The locker room was ecstatic afterwards, and Remus was kneeling to tape up Kasey’s thigh for him when Arthur came out with the lion head. The lion head was this seasons team token, of sorts, an object that got past around the locker room after every game, depending on who played best that night. For the first game of the season, Coach was the one who handed it out. After that it would go from player to player. This year, the object looked like an overly-furry lion-mane and nose, maybe from some poor, cotton stuffed animal, sewed onto a baseball cap. Remus grimaced just looking at it. He didn’t want to think about how sweaty and disgusting that thing was going to become by the end of the season.

“Great game, boys. Great start to the beginning of the season.” There were some cheering and Arthur smiled, waving his hand, “As you know, it is my pride and joy making our season tokens.”

“What section of the wall is last year’s going on?” James said, making everyone laugh. Arthur’s creation last year had been a monstrous blend between a gladiator helmet that had a yarn lion tale glued to the back of it.

“Front and center, thanks for asking.” Coach said. “This year, we have…”

Kasey started a drumroll which the entire locker room eventually joined in on.

“Lion-cap. Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Arthur held it up. “And tonight…I’ve got to give it to the captain, don’t I?”

“Yeah you do!” James pounded the wall of his stall with his fist.

“Quite a hit, and beauties of goals. Sirius.”

Sirius laughed as he walked forward, just his underarmour on again, and put the hat on, crouching into a ridiculous pose so that James could take a picture. He looked hilarious in it, the mane fluffing out around his ears and the nose resting on the brim.

“Thanks, Coach.” He said, and then handed it off to Remus for safe keeping, per tradition. Remus was always put in charge of bring the token on roadies, and keeping track of who got it when.

Remus felt his phone buzz in his pocket and was pulled abruptly from the bubble of the team when he saw his mom’s name flash up. He slapped a hand to Kasey’s shoulder, telling him he was done, and slipped out of the locker room to answer.

“Hey, mum.”

“Hi, baby. Great game!”

“It was,” Remus smiled. “I’ll be right out to get you guys and we can get ice cream or something. I just have to—”

“Remus?”

Remus pressed the phone to his shoulder, turning on his heel back to the locker room. Sirius was standing there, head poking out and smiling a smile that looked almost—shy.

“Yeah? Hold on, mum—Sorry, can I help?”

“Bring them back,” Sirius said.

“Huh?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Your family. Bring them back, show them the locker room and stuff.”

“Oh.” Remus’ heart beat. He would love that. Julian would freak out. “Oh, I don’t want—”

“C’mon, the boys would love it. We can sign a jersey and stuff, or a stick.”

Remus’ mouth hung open for a minute before he heard himself say, “okay,” and Sirius grinned before retreating. Remus didn’t move until he heard his mom’s voice in his ear. He blinked a few times and raised his phone back up. “Hey, mum, do you want to…would you guys want to come back to the locker room?”

And so here Remus was, his parents and Jules in toe, walking down the all too familiar hallway.

Julian bounced up beside Remus, both hands around his arm. “Are we going to meet Sirius?”

Remus smiled, “probably.”

“Are we going to meet Pots?”

“Yep, him too.”

“Blizzard?”

Remus laughed, “I think you could meet Kasey, sure.”

“Can I take a picture with them?”

“If you say please,” Remus said, because it was definitely what his mom would say. Once they reach the locker room doors, he looked back at his parents. Both were wearing BLACK jerseys, which Remus found unbearably endearing and also slightly embarrassing now that Sirius knew how Remus felt about him as a hockey player. There was no doubt he was going to think Remus had had sway over his parents’ jersey choice. His dad was clutching his phone excitedly to his chest, and Remus couldn’t think why he hadn’t asked to do this sooner. He was glad Sirius had said something, and he’d make sure to tell him thank you later.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready, ready, open the doors!” Julian whisper-yelled.

The sound wave once Remus did hit them like a wall, and Remus heard Jules quiet down a little, maybe with nerves as the reality that this was actually happening set in, and Remus turned around to put a comforting hand on his back. He could see that the media was just leaving out the press door, which Remus was thankful for because it meant that none of the players would be surrounded by cameras. He didn’t want this to look like a photo-op.

He made eye contact with Sirius almost immediately, and tried to smile in a way that didn’t look like he expected Sirius to come over or anything. Sirius had a routine, and that included winding down. He looked like he was about to leave for his twenty minute cool down on one of the stationary bikes, and Remus didn’t want to interrupt that. But then Sirius was grinning and motioning them over.

“Oh.” Julian said softly from beside Remus, and Remus patted his head softly and motioned for his parents to follow him over to Sirius’ stall.

Sirius stood when they got there, grinning warmly.

“Who’s this?” Sirius asked, holding his fist out for a dumbstruck Julian to bump.

“These are my parents, Hope and Lyall, and this is Julian, my brother.” Remus said, smiling a little at Jules’ expression. His heart was pounding. “Say hi, Jules.”

“Hi Padfoot. I mean—” Julian flushed.

Sirius laughed. “You can call me Padfoot if I can call you Jules. You play hockey, bud?”

Julian nodded frantically, “yeah, I’m a center, too.”

“Nice.” Sirius raised his eyes briefly to Remus’ parents and held out his hand for them to shake, “Hi, I’m Sirius.” As if they didn’t know, as if they weren’t wearing his last name on their backs, “Did you all enjoy the game?”

“That was such a nasty hit on you.” Julian said, eyes going from Sirius’ face to his locker to his pads to his stick.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, we hope you’re alright.” Hope said with a very motherly disapproving frown.

Sirius nodded and, to Remus’ surprise, threw an arm around Remus’ shoulder. “Your son took care of me. Remus takes the best care of us, right James?”

James had come over with a protein bar hanging out of his mouth, but took a bite and chewed quickly when he put together who he was speaking to.

“Jesus f—” He looked at Julian whose eyes were practically hearts. “Hi,” James said again, laughing a little at himself, “you must be Loops’ parents.” James looked down at Julian again, “And older brother, I presume? What’s up, man? Here to try out?”

“Yeah.” Julian said softly, clearly barely able to think, and they all laughed.

Remus, on the other hand, was much to pre-occupied with Sirius’ arm which, having slid away from his shoulders, was now briefly a warm, pressing weight between his shoulder blades, before it disappeared completely as he slapped the seat of his stall.

“Well I’m certainly not going to have a spot on this team if you’re playing, so you might as well take a seat. Let’s see, what will he need to be a Lion, Pots?”

James crossed his arms, pretending to think hard. “Jersey, definitely.”

“Oh, two, I’d say.” Sirius added, “And a couple sticks, don’t you think?”

Julian, now seated snuggly in Sirius’ stall, was red-cheeked with happiness.

“On it.” James said, and winked at Remus as he left to get a few of his and Sirius’ jerseys and sticks to sign.

Sirius on the other hand, crouched down to Julian’s level. “Hey, Jules, do you know how awesome your brother is?”

Julian grinned up at Remus, then back at Sirius. “Yeah.”

Sirius nodded back, “He does practically everything for us. Gets us new skate blades, makes sure we have what we need on the road, keeps us healthy.” Then Sirius looked at him with a similarly fond and happy expression that Julian was wearing, and Remus felt a little like he might cry which would be completely and utterly embarrassing. “He’s pretty great.”

Remus felt his own cheeks flush. “Okay, okay, thanks.”

Hope laughed from beside him, squeezing him in a one armed hug. “Never could take a compliment, could you, Re?”

“That was a lot of compliments.” Remus laughed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stop looking at Sirius and Sirius wasn’t looking away.

Remus felt like he was back in Sirius’ car, unsure what it all meant.

“Hey, did you know I’m your brother’s favorite player?” Sirius asked Jules.

“You’re mine, too! We both have your jersey!”

Remus flushed and had to look away from Sirius and his raised eyebrows then, pretending to watch James come back across the locker room with the gear. He didn’t want to hear what Sirius had to say about that.

James and Sirius were both at Julian’s level for a good fifteen minutes, signing things, taking pictures, and talking hockey. Kasey even came over before leaving to sign the jerseys and offer one of his own sticks. Remus didn’t know how Julian was going to carry it all.

His parents eventually left for their hotel with promises to meet him for breakfast the next morning and their favorite pancake spot—really everyone’s favorite pancake spot—in Gryffindor. Remus watched them walk back to their car until they turned out of view, smiling to himself at Jules’ insistence that he carry all three sticks and wear both jerseys at once.

Remus stopped by the exercise room on his way back to lock up the office for the night and, as expected, Sirius was there. He looked fresh off the bike and was on one of the mats, stressing his fingers towards his toes. Remus knocked lightly.

“Hey,” Sirius said with a grin.

“Hi.” Remus walked in a few more paces and leaned against one of the treadmills, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the floor softly. “I don’t want to interrupt you or anything, but I just wanted to thank you. For earlier. You—You really made my little brother’s life, there. He loves you guys.”

Sirius stood, dusting off his leggings and picked up his water bottle from the floor. “I hope he’s not the only one.”

Remus bit back a smile, and his heart clenched. If only Sirius knew what he was saying.

“Of course,” was all Remus could think of to reply.

“You’re family seems great, Re. Really.”

“They are,” Remus replied before he thought about what that statement probably meant, coming from Sirius. Sirius who didn’t have a family like that. Remus felt guilt and the want to strangle anyone who didn’t love Sirius properly swirl in his chest. Sirius deserved so much. Look what he would do for just one kid who he never even met, for Remus, who he barely knew outside of his work.

“I’m headed out soon.” Sirius said. “Do you need a ride?”

Remus shook his head, “Moody said he’d drive me.”

Even though everything in him was screaming at him to lie and say yes, he didn’t want to explain that to Moody.

“Ah.” Sirius said, nodding. He looked, if not disappointed, something like it. “Okay. Well, let me know, eh? Any time.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Remus was aware of how soft his voice sounded, but there wasn’t much he could do about it with Sirius’ gray eyes on him.

Sirius smiled, a soft and lopsided thing, and Remus’ heart flipped in his chest. As Sirius left for the showers, Remus got back to his desk. On it, was a hat.

It was a Lions hat, red with gold piping and the gold lion. On the bill, in the gold sharpie that the team used for signing, was a messily scrawled message and a signature. Sirius’ signature, complete with the number twelve.

I’m glad I’m your favorite, it read.

(A/N: Ah, slowly but surely....:)

#sweater weather #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #the marauders era #wolfstar au #harry potter au #lumosinlove #writing #hockey au #hockey player!sirius #trainer!remus #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar angst #wolfstar slow burn #slow burn #ahhhh

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ride-a-dolan · 6 years

Text

“I Hate That I Love You” ( E. Dolan Fic) Part 2

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//Hey guys! I hope you’re enjoying this series so far! I will probably be posting 2 parts a day if you guys like it so much! It’s going to be a long series, I figured for my come back to go big or go home lol 😂Alright, Alright, here’s Part 2!!//

Warning: some bullying not much, some swearing

Master List

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Saturday goes by rather quickly. Ashlee just shows me around the school and where my classes are. I don't see Ethan all day which is good. He really makes me angry and to think that just yesterday I thought he was so hot and attractive and now I can't stand to look at him. Why does every guy I think is attractive is a douche?? The rest of Saturday Ashlee and I just spend it in our room talking and getting to know each other a little bit better. I really do think of her as a younger sister that I have never had. We’re so much alike I swear it’s scary as hell.

Sunday goes by quickly too. I just spend it getting all of my school stuff together. My parents call me that day too. They are in India and they said that it was beautiful there. They told me that they were going to bring me something back from each country they go too. They asked me if I had settled in and stuff. I told them that everything is fine and my roommate is super nice and is like my sister already. They asked if I’m having fun and I anxiously tell them yes and make up some story about a pillow fight in the dorms. I don't tell them about the party or Ethan. Lord knows they would kill me if I’m already wrapped up in a guy. My parents don’t take kindly to guys due to the first and last guy I dated got me to send nudes to him and told me that he would never keep them or anything. Boy was I wrong, the day after I sent them, they were sent to the entire football team and then it spread to the entire school. I couldn’t even step into a hallway without getting cat called. Anyways, I told them bye and went on to sleep because tomorrow is my first day. They wished me luck, for all they know I’m going to need it.

——————————————————————————————————————————

I heard my alarm go off. 7 am ugh....my last school didn’t start until 8:45 am. I force myself out of bed and throw on my uniform. The uniform was actually pretty tolerable. Black leggings or jeans with a red or white slimming Nike dry fit shirt with the school’s mascot on it. Shoes were of choice so of course I throw on the white shirt, leggings and my white Nikes. I walk out and so far so good. No one has noticed me yet. I get to Harthrow Hall and get to my hallway. I get to my first class, Chemistry. I hate Chemistry so much it’s so hard! I'm standing outside of my first class. Sadly it's one of the classes Ashlee doesn't have this class with me. I'm nervous about walking in. I know the teacher is going to introduce me as the new student which I honestly hate. I just want to go back to my dorm room and sleep all day. While I'm in the middle of standing there thinking about how to approach walking in, someone walks by me and bumps their shoulder into mine.

"Oops." Ethan says before laughing and walking inside the classroom. Grayson followed in behind him, but he just smiled. Hmmm..odd.. Great I have my first class with them. They’re older than me I think so shouldn't they be in a higher class than me? Ugh anyways might as well get this over with. I walk inside and everyone just stares at me. My eyes lock with Ethan's and he just smirks at me. I shake my head and look at the teacher.

"Oh you must be (Y/N). I'm Mrs. Smith. You can take the seat in front of Ethan and Grayson." She says and points to them.

Oh this day just gets better and better.

"Hello love." Ethan whispers when I sit down. I just ignore him. "Aw come on at least talk to me." He begs.

"Let's see about that. No." I say and turn back around in my seat. I hear a few of the class mates laugh, but Ethan shoots them daggers and they immediately shut up. "You're going to learn real soon that you don't talk to people like that." Ethan growls in my ear.

"Are you going to be the one to teach me it?" I ask innocently. He just looks at me before starting on the work Mrs. Smith gave us. I am really the only person who will stand up to Ethan. I know that he hates it so I will keep doing it. I think that it's quite funny. The bell rings and everyone gets up to leave. I stand up and gather all of my things when someone knocks the books out of my hands.

"Oh sorry about that." Ethan says and keeps walking. I know Mrs. Smith saw what he did but she doesn't say a word. Not a single word. Ethan really does run this school and everyone in it. Well I'm not going to let him run me. No way will I let him control me.

I just sigh and gather my books in my hands, but I’m stopped by someone. I looked up to see Grayson smiling and grabbing my hand to pull me up then grabbing my books. He hands them to me.

“I’m sorry about E, he can be a jerk sometimes. I’m Grayson, but you probably already knew that from class.” He said grabbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Or it’s from me staring at you and your siblings when I was getting registered.” God dammit, why’d I just say that! Now I’ve probably freaked him out. Grayson laughed and smiled. He kind of has a cute smile, not like his brother. He’s different, so much so that I’m getting a weird feeling about him. What is this? I just looked down and smiled awkwardly.

“I knew I recognized you. I recognize every pretty girl. I’ll catch you around, (Y/N).” Grayson rubbed my shoulder and walked away. Holy shit I was not expecting that at all. As he walked away, all I saw was glares from all the girls. Great job (Y/N), way to draw more attention to yourself.

The rest of the day goes by so slowly. I don't see Ethan anymore that day which I'm thankful for. I kind of hoped to see Grayson though. He was so sweet to me. I tell Ashlee about what Ethan said earlier and what Grayson did. She looked at me shocked, but she didn't know what to tell me. We didn’t speak really all day, I did the whole “ Hi, I’m (Y/N). I just moved here...” spill awkwardly each class period and sat quietly and did my work until the end of class.

After school I immediately went to my room and changed out of that uniform. I left the black leggings on and threw on a hoodie and my Ugg boots. Total white girl stereotype outfit, right? Oh well, it’s comfortable and I’m not here to look good for anyone. I’m supposed to meet Ashlee at the hockey rink. There is a guy that she likes and he plays so I decided to go with her to watch the team practice. Only thing holding me back is, Ethan is captain. However, if Ethan plays, Grayson must play too. Guess I’ll have to go and see.

The team skates onto the ice and of course my eyes lock with Ethan once again. He looks at me and just smiles like we are the best of friends. I honestly don't understand Ethan Dolan. He just makes me so frustrated. I see Grayson skate in after him and I instantly locked eyes with him. He smiled and waved causing Ashlee and Ethan to see. Ethan slapped Grayson and said something causing him to look away from me and he skated off. Ethan locked his sight on me as if to make me scared or something.

"Ohhh look at what you started. Brother fight. Don’t tangle with either of them. It’s all bad news. Oh look there he is!" Ashlee says making me pull my eyes away from his.

"Oh he is cute." I comment.

"Nope he is mine back off." Ashlee says jokingly. We continue to sit there and watch the team practice. Ethan is really good at the sport if I do say so myself. He skates up and down the ice keeping the puck away from everyone. I can see why he is the captain.

After about two hours of sitting there watching them practice it's over. Ashlee is going to stay after to talk to this guy that she likes but I decide to go on back to the room. This day has been so long and I just want to sleep. It's dark now so I can't really see anything other than the sidewalk so when I hear someone behind me I get a bit scared.

I turn around and see Ethan. Why is he following me? "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Going back to my dorm what's it look like?" He asks.

"Well if you really want to know it looks like you are following which is very creepy if you didn't already know." I say.

"Like I would follow you."

"Well you might seeing as you are a bit obsessed with me." I fired back.

"Obsessed with you? Yeah ok." He says.

"Well you couldn't seem to focus on your practice because you kept looking at me. Plus you said something to Grayson because he smiled and me. Looks like you’re brother likes me and maybe so do you. Jealousy is a bitch huh?” I say getting all sassy, which is the truth. He really couldn't quit looking at me. Ethan doesn't say anything instead he just walks closer and closer to me making me back up more and more until I am up against a wall of my dorm. He is so close to me now that I have to look up at him which I avoided at all costs until he grabbed me by the chin forcing me to look up at him.

"I am not obsessed with you. I honestly can't stand you and I'm going to make you pay for all of those things you have said since you got to this school. By the time I'm done with you, you will regret every single word you have ever said to me." He says angrily.

"Whatever you say." I say. Ethan doesn't say anything, he just leaves without another word. He is so much worse than Ashlee described him. What kind of guy bullies a girl that they don't even know? He is a bully and one of the worst ones I have ever seen.

I hate Ethan Dolan and everything about him.

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///Part 2, how did you guys like it?? I feel weird writing again so bare with me lol. Also I wanted to say, Ethan is a sweetheart and is in no way a jerk or a bully!! But damn, if he has a bad side I wanna see! Anyways, like and repost it if you like!! I will follow everyone back when I can!///

#ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fanfic #grayson and ethan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #youtuber fanfiction #fanfiction #tunesday

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thelarryficrecplace · 6 years

Note

any fics where Louis has an eating disorder?

Hello! Here you go:

Fading by tothemoonmydear:

Summary: Louis knows about beauty; the combination of qualities that pleases the aesthetic senses. He creates that combination every day in the garments he designs while studying fashion at uni. The cut of the design, the color of the fabric, the intricacy of the stitching; it all comes together to create something beautiful. When the science student with the long legs and dimpled smile agrees to model for him, Louis decides he’s found beauty personified. Harry just thinks Louis needs someone to show him how beautiful he is.

Word count: 202,393

Take me down with you by harrystylesandstuff:

Summary: Louis is fine. He just happens to walk to the suicide bridge of Bristol at least once a week, just happens to be dealing with a lot of anxiety, and just happens to be done with life. But he’s fine.

Everything is just fine until a mysterious guy starts showing up every time he tries to kill himself, and he should be very scared, but he’s somehow very glad to have company. Until he’s not.

AU where Louis tries to kill himself multiple times but he’s not very good at it, Harry keeps showing up out of nowhere, and maybe life isn’t as bad as it looks sometimes.

Word count: 107,872

Black and Blue by alison:

Summary: Louis is a barista who is a bit damaged from a previous relationship. Harry is a musician who is all warmth and light. Rebuilding a life takes time.

Word count: 19,796

Frame of Hearts by sincehewaseighteen:

Summary: The abandoned tree house was something to poke Louis’ curiosity. His secret is kept, until he finds someone else trespassing inhis tree house. or the au where louis is eight and he has tantrums all the time and runs away but one time he runs somewhere and finds a treehouse, then goes back to find harry, then they both share and grow up and fall in love.

Word count: 154,930

Scars, Skin, and Charcoal by kvarcas:

Summary: Louis Tomlinson. 18. He’s got a pierced lip and gauges in his ears, and firm black lines drawn onto his eyelids. He wears what he wants under his school uniform and etches designs into his black notepad while girls try to get his attention. He’s taped a razor edge onto the wall behind his bed frame. But he’s also got this affinity for old style novels and complex, intelligent conversations.

Harry Styles. 17 . The new kid with a dorky streak covered up by his fit body, emerald eyes and curly brown hair. He draws whatever he wants and takes pictures of nice things, just to pin them on his bedroom walls on clothes hooks and black strings. He likes to draw Louis just to see him smile. His head is filled with a dictionary and he likes to speak in riddles and use terms adults blink oddly at.

And you can’t forget Niall, adorable and hilarious and hungry, blind to the lovesick antics of Zayn, striving bad boy who just wants to smoke, and sensible yet silly Liam, who’s trying to both stop and help this matchmaking mess while holding his own.

Then there’s always some drama, because what’s school and a teenage life without some of that unnecessary shit?

Word count: 49,859

You Knocked Me Off The Ground From The Start by sinkingtothebottomofthesea:

Summary: Louis puts his palm against the floor, and takes a shaky breath before picking himself up. When he turns he sees new student Harry Styles motionless at the door, eyes wide and notebook clutched to his chest. Louis’ eyes widen as well, and he backs away quickly, nearly stumbling and falling again.

“Are you alright?” Curly asks, taking a step towards Louis. Louis nods frantically, curling his arms around himself.

“I’m fine, really,”

Word count: 12,820

phosphenes by lumineres:

Summary: Phosphenes n. the stars and colors you see when you rub your eyes.

“I miss you, Lou.” Harry says.

“’M right here.” Louis answers.

Word count: 11,582

In plain sight by fandomsforalwayz:

Summary: A slip of a finger sends Louis on a slippery slope into the world of self hatred. As time goes on, small comments and jokes get taken a little too personally. Louis soon grows an obsession with losing weight, and Harry grows an obsession with Louis.Or the one where Louis takes everything too seriously, Harry falls in love (even though he may not want to), Liam and Zayn are trying to help everyone, and Niall is a bit overprotective.

Word count: 46,545

Behind the Lights by JamieJam93:

Summary: Harry knows that things are not always what they seem.

His reputation is one of them.

When he moved to California to became a famous singer, he didn’t realize that he was setting himself up to have his integrity dragged through the mud, but suddenly, he was Hollywood’s man whore. The magazines said he had a new boyfriend or girlfriend every week. He was thought to be a heart breaker. But that wasn’t who Harry was at all, and so he soon moved back to London to become re-branded in every possible way.

He didn’t realize a re-branding would involve being in a fake relationship, and he definitely didn’t expect to fall in love with his fake boyfriend, who he thought was too damaged to ever love him back.

But what Harry also didn’t realize is that love truly does heal.

Word count: 60,465

The Hockey Player And The Ballerina by larrysbitchx:

Summary: Louis is a 3 time USA IBC gold medalist ballerina and Harry is a hockey player for team Canada.

Louis has a secret that comes with consequences and difficulties.

He wants Harry and Harry wants himBut his secret is the only thing keeping them apart.

(I think the tags and the title pretty much explains it)

Word count: 33,393

#asks #anon #larry #larry fics #larry fic rec #larry fic #larry fic recs #larry au #larry stylinson #larry stylinson fics #fic #fics #fic recs #fic rec #triggers #warning #eating disorder #anorexic louis

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nomorelonelydays · 7 years

Text

Sports AU because Sidney is basically built to be a catcher - anon submission

As the acting captain for the Pittsburgh Penguins for the last ten years, Evgeni Malkin is used to being forced into doing things for the sake of the franchise. Interviews, meet and greets, you name it. In the beginning, he used the excuse of English not being his first language to get out of the post-game media but after two years, the management staff quickly caught on to what he was doing and told him to suck it up.

After their third Cup win and second in a row, Evgeni found himself standing underneath PNC Park in the batting cages getting ready to throw out the first pitch. He was never much of a fan of baseball; games were too long and the amount of fights that broke out were far and few between. Still, when Jennifer from management fixed him with her patented stare and a threat of hours of interviews Evgeni was suddenly a baseball fan.

A few of his teammates are milling around the cages and touching things they probably shouldn’t be. He knows for a fact that the water bottle Jake and Conor are passing around is not full of water but he says nothing. Either he is getting soft in his old age or the still existing hangover is affecting his judgement. Evgeni goes with the second option.

“Hey Geno,” Jake calls from outside of the batting cage. “Do they have baseball in Russia.”

“Have National team.”

“There is only one team? In all of Russia? Isn’t Russia like fucking huge?”

Conor elbows Jake and nods his head at the cameras surrounding them, capturing their every movement. Jake simply shrugs and takes another swig from the water bottle.

“Not need baseball. Hockey best sport and only best for Russia.”

Jake snorts and Evgeni pauses mid-throw to look at him.

“I say funny thing?”

Jake pales visibly at the look on Evgeni’s face. It’s the one that means “if you say the wrong thing, you’ll be skating suicides until you throw up.”

“Um- I mean.”

Geno starts laughing, “I just joking.”

Flower, who entered at the start of the conversation, let’s out a loud laugh. It draws the attention of the camera crew who turn their equipment back on in hopes of catching some interesting footage.

“I’m too drunk for this,” Jake grumbles. It’s evident when he tries to exit the batting cage and gets tangled in the net.

Conor takes the bottle from his hand, “no more for you.”

The two of them leave before they can get into any more trouble.

____________

“Hey G?”

“Everyone want to talk to me. So popular.”

Flower rolls his eyes, “whatever big guy. I just came to tell you that they’re ready for you out there.”

Geno nods and tosses the baseball in his hand into the nearby bucket. He knows that this isn’t that big of a deal but nerves still flutter in his stomach. The worst thing that can happen is that he throws way off his mark and the team will chirp him.

The team has gathered in the tunnel that leads to the field; they part slightly so Evgeni can get to the front. A member of the Pirates’ staff waves them forward and they all file out towards the mound. A few of the Pirates’ players are in the dugout and hive five the Penguins as they pass. Evgeni is ushered by Bones to the center of the mound where the ball is balanced on the rubber. He picks it up and tosses it between his hands while the announcer informs the crowd on exactly who they are; as if anyone in the city of Pittsburgh is unfamiliar with them.

The catcher, equipped with his mask, crouches behind home. This is when Evgeni realizes how much farther away he is than when he was warming up.

Someone behind him coughs in a way that sounds a lot like “don’t mess up.” Geno thinks it’s Phil. He makes a mental reminder to shove Phil when they get back under the stadium but in the meantime he takes a deep breath. Geno raises his left arm and with a step forward, releases the ball in the direction of the catcher’s mitt and prays to every deity that it hits its mark.

There is a distinct thawk that signals the catcher catching the ball and a weight Geno was unaware of, lifts from his shoulders. His teammates all clap him on the back and once again, Bones is ushering him in a direction.

“You’re supposed to shake hands with the catcher,” is Bones’ response to the faces Geno makes at him.

Evgeni turns around and strides down the field towards home plate. The catcher removes his mask and all of Geno’s thoughts stop. Standing in front him, pale skin flushed slightly from the heat, is the most attractive man Evgeni has ever seen. The man tucks his mask under his arm and walks the few feet towards Geno until they are within talking distance.

“I believe this is for you.” The man hands over the ball Evgeni just threw.

Geno blinks a few times and seems to remember where he is. “Thank you.”

“It’s your ball.”

“Not for ball.”

“Then what?”

“Catching ball. Not make me look dumb.”

The man throws his head back and laughs. Geno is once again distracted and misses the man attempting to talk to him.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if your team was staying for the game.”

“You going play?”

This time it’s the other man that is slightly startled. Geno mentally curses his words for not being in sync with his mind. This is not the place to look for a guy.

“I am playing. Catcher, which you probably guessed,” he gestures to his mask. “I also bat fourth.”

Geno nods and intends to ask if that means anything but Flower comes up behind him and pokes his shoulder.

“Time to go G. Sidney has a game to get ready for.”

“Sidney?”

“That’s me,” the man, Sidney, raises his hand. “I’m Sidney.”

Geno sticks his hand out abruptly, “I’m Evgeni. Can call Geno.”

“Yes, I know.”

Flower pushes at Geno’s back, “okay, we really need to go. Good luck Sidney. Kick some ass.”

“Thanks Flower. Will I see you after the game?”

“We should have some time.”

Flower pulls Geno back over to the team for a quick photo op and finally they retreat back under the stadium to be given their seat numbers.

________________

Geno is settling in to his seat in the third row behind home plate when he remembers the conversation down on the field.

“How you know Sidney?” he leans over Kris Letang to ask Flower.

“We met a few years back at a charity function for the Children’s Hospital.”

“How long?”

“Geez G, I don’t know. Maybe four years ago. Why?”

“No reason.”

Geno turns back towards the field to watch the grounds crew put on the final touches.

“He’s been to some of our games.”

“What?”

This time Flower leans over Tanger, “I’ve invited him to some games. Apparently he is a big hockey fan.”

“Why you not introduce?” Geno is struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that he could have met Sidney years ago.

“You hate baseball so it didn’t occur to me to introduce you to a baseball player.”

“I not hate baseball,” Geno waves his arms frantically, nearly hitting Kris in the face.

“Okay that’s it. Flower, switch with me.” Kris stands up and gestures towards his seat.

Flower gets up and takes the seat next to Geno.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know his name.”

“I not like baseball. Not my fault.”

“Ha. So you admit that you don’t like baseball.”

Before Geno can respond, the announcer begins speaking; he calls out the starting lineup for the Colorado Rockies. He then moves to the Pirates. As the players are announced, they run to their position and Geno watches as Sidney stops not even ten feet in front of them. He hadn’t noticed before, but the way his uniform fits him is almost too distracting. It’s not too bad until Sidney crouches down to warm up the pitcher does Geno give up all hope of actually focusing on the game. All these years of maintaining a crouched position have given Sidney thighs of steel that have Geno thinking thoughts not suitable for this family-friendly environment.

The game really does fly by when you have something to pay attention too and soon enough the announcer is shouting about something called the “Seventh Inning Stretch.” Geno stands with the crowd but is painfully unaware with what is going on. Flower disappeared around the end of the sixth inning so he is of no help. Kris just kind of shrugs when Geno asks him about it and continues to stand awkwardly while everyone around him sings a song about something called Cracker Jacks. Eventually the song ends and everyone sits down. Flower reappears just as the batter before Sidney steps up to the plate. He has a plastic bag clutched in his hand and tosses it at Geno.

Inside is a black jersey with yellow lettering, very similar to their own. The biggest difference though is when Geno turns it around and instead of a familiar name or number, it has the name “Crosby” and the number 87.

“What this?“

“Are you kidding me G? He has been standing in front of us all game and you didn’t even notice his jersey number.”

“His eyes haven’t been looking that high,” Jake remarks from behind them.

This gets a loud laugh out of Flower. So loud that it catches Sidney’s attention from the on-deck circle. Flower is trying to muffle his giggles by pressing his face into Geno’s shoulder and normally he’d complain but Sidney is now looking at him so he thinks he can forgive Flower for invading his space.

Before he can stop himself, Evgeni picks up the jersey with the back facing Sidney so he can see before he slips it on over his shirt.

This gets a smile out of Sidney that has Geno mentally vowing to try and repeat any chance he can get. The batter before Sidney gets walked and this time Evgeni tries to actually pay attention to something other than his ass. The game is tied at 1-1 with one out. Sidney watches the first pitch go by and it’s called a strike. The second one he fouls off, making the count 0-2. Geno watches as he takes a deep breath and digs his heels deep into the dirt. The pitch comes and Sidney swings hard. It’s hit high but there is just enough power behind it to carry it over the fence. Evgeni may not know baseball, but he knows this is a good thing so he stands and cheers with the rest of the Pirates’ fans. Sidney crosses home, high fives his teammate and shoots a quick smile in Geno’s direction. Flower elbows his side and Jake grabs his shoulders from behind.

The game wraps up quickly after that with a Pirates’ 5-2 win. The team has about forty-five minutes before they have to board the bus back to the arena which gives Flower and a nervous Geno enough time to talk to Sidney.

Unlike hockey, there aren’t any post-game interviews taking place in the locker room so they’re allowed immediate entrance. Flower seems to know his away around because he makes a beeline for the back corner of the room. There, Sidney is sitting on the bench unlacing his cleats. His hair is plastered down from his mask and uniform is covered in dirt and sweat but he is still the most attractive person Geno has ever seen.

He brightens visibly when he sees the two of them approach and it makes Geno’s heart flutter. Sidney stands and hugs Flower easily and turns to Geno but hesitates slightly as if unsure whether he is allowed to touch him. Geno makes it easier for him and wraps his arms around Sid’s shoulders quickly. They are as broad and muscular as they looked.

Sidney and Flower catch up so Geno tunes out, instead getting distracted by the gold chain that peaks out slightly from under Sidney’s jersey.

Flower pokes him for what must be the twentieth time today.

“What?”

“Did you enjoy the game? Flower said you don’t really like baseball.”

“Flower lies.”

Sidney raises an eyebrow, “so you like baseball?”

“Sid makes fun. Is normally so slow.”

Flower pinches the bridge of his nose like he can’t believe Geno is acting like this.

Sidney just smiles wider. “Well thanks. I try.”

“You come to hockey game now.”

“Didn’t your season just end two days ago?”

Geno shrugs in response. Their season did end exactly two days prior which meant there was a long time before Sidney could watch a game.

“I’ve been to a game before; several.”

“You like?”

“You’re very good.”

“You have Penguin shirt?”

“I have a jersey.”

“Gross Flower jersey?”

Sidney hesitates, “Malkin actually.”

Geno flushes, “really?”

Sidney turns to rummage through his stall and pulls out his phone. With a few taps and swipes, he pulls up a picture of him at PPG Paints Arena. He is wearing a worn Malkin jersey and his arm is around some girl’s shoulders.

Geno’s filter must have taken the day off because he blurts, “is girlfriend?”

“Sister,” is Sidney’s immediate response. “I’m single.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck. “So.”

“Maybe want to hang out?”

Sidney’s eyes search Geno’s face for something and he must be satisfied with what he sees because he smiles and nods. He passes his phone over for Geno to input his number. Flower, who Geno didn’t realize left, reappears just as Evgeni is handing back the phone.

“Time to go G.”

Flower says goodbye to Sidney and hugs him again with promises to get his over to see Vero and the girls.

Evgeni follows Flower out of the locker room and feels his phone buzz as he gets on the bus.

Unknown Number:

Hey it’s Sid.

Sidney.

Sidney Crosby.

Geno smiles down at the three messages. Of course Sidney is the type to make sure he clarified. His phone buzzes again.

It was nice to finally meet you. Maybe we can grab food and see a movie sometime.

Geno types out his response.

Nice to meet. Friday?

Almost instantly there is a reply.

It’s a date.

#anon submission #THE SWEETEST THINGGGG #submission

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