#KALE SALAD STOP

[1d1195]

A MOVIE 😭 Thank you Monica!!! 💕

Pucking Rookie II

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: sloooooowwwwww burrrrrrrnnnnnnnn

Warnings: angsty, fluffy, douchey ex-boyfriend, a little violent

Summary: Harry is one of the most annoying people she's ever met. It's unfair he's talented, hot, and way nicer than her ex.

“So getting to the side of the ice before the puck is there is offsides?” Marc asked.

She nodded watching the Warriors center faceoff against the Bears on her TV screen. They were in the third period with only five minutes to go and the defenseman from the Bears was in the penalty box for a foul against the center. She thought it was a death sentence. “Correct.”

“They have that in other sports,” he sounded like a child remembering a fact from preschool. She smirked.

“Yes,” she laughed. “Are you sure you want to date this guy?”

“I want to date his dick,” Marc shrugged. She snorted and shook her head.

“Fair enough.”

Her phone lit with a message from Kael. He wanted to see her when she was in town with The Chargers. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it would have been nice to get some of her stuff back. If he kept it.

“Are you speaking to Harry again?” Marc asked.

It was impossible to keep the smile from growing on her face. She rubbed a hand over her mouth to hide it. “Yeah...” she nodded. “It’s kind of hard not to talk to anyone on the team.”

“The fact you went a whole week without talking to that hot as hell man is beyond me. You’re a better woman than me.”

She snorted. They were coming down to the final two minutes and the goalie skated to the bench and another player glided across the ice. “So, when the team is down by a goal or two, they send the goalie off the ice so they can get another scorer in position. But it leaves the goal open. It’s risky.”

“You are seriously doing that team a disservice by not dating them,” he murmured. “If I was into women I wouldn’t let you out in public. You’re so perfect.”

She laughed. “I am not perfect.”

“Babe, you are stunning, you know hockey, and you make the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”

“It’s not enough,” she told him sipping her water and standing up. But sure enough, The Warriors scored without their goalie in the next. She had to get to the rink for the night game. She smirked, wiggled eyebrows at Marc, and turned off her TV.

“You should bet money on these things.”

She put on her regular outfit for a night of taking pictures at the rink. Her hands had to be free (and yes, they would freeze) but she wore a thick sweatshirt below the jersey. It had Niall’s name on the back. She figured he was the least likely to make a big deal of wearing someone’s name on her back. She honestly hoped no one noticed that she picked it. She didn’t want to make it seem like she had a favorite on the team. Because she didn’t. And it definitely wasn’t Harry Styles.  

Truthfully, she stole Niall’s old jersey out of the bin in the locker room. It got ripped in a game where someone got a little too irritated with Niall’s good goal tending. There was a significant tear along the seam because Harry was the first one to get to Niall when the incident occurred. Harry accidentally tore at it while trying to get his hands on the opponent and wound up in the penalty box for two minutes because of it.

She spent part of the following evening sewing it carefully back together while watching a movie on Netflix.

Once her winter boots were on, she slipped her camera bag and press pass over her shoulder and neck respectively. She was ready for the evening. Marc walked her down to her car. They both waved at Michael who was pacing outside while smoking a cigarette. “Hey Sweetheart,” he called. Michael was about five years younger than her and way too grumpy for his own good. But he often perked up on her behalf. “Good luck to the team.”

“Thanks!” She smiled as if she had any responsibility for how well they did.

Marc made sure she got in the car safely and winced when her car took two turns to start because of the cold. Once assured her car would remain running, Marc went to Michael’s side and bummed a cigarette from him as she pulled out of the lot in front of the building. What a weird little family she was creating in a weird part of town.

Her car seemed angry that it was being asked to do its job, and she worried that one day it was going to die on her way there. If it did, she was nervous it would be a thing and Uncle Charlie would be pissed. She could see it now. But instead, she listened to her music, stopped to splurge for a coffee made by someone else, and headed to the rink.

At the very least, she was happier than she had been in a very long time. There was no weight around her worrying she wasn’t the perfect girlfriend, the perfect arm candy for her hockey boyfriend. She didn’t worry about looking weird or awkward. She felt more like herself behind the lens, at the rink, and at The Locker Room, and at her apartment with her new friends than she had in years.

Maybe she didn’t need any of her stuff back from Kael. If she never spoke to him again, then she would be okay.

*

“Niall you lucky motherfucker!” Asher yelled.

She wasn’t paying much attention as the boys finally arrived for their game. She was in the middle of a conversation with Uncle Charlie as she went over the pictures she was planning to submit to the news outlets, looking over the tiny screen in her hands. She showed off her non-athletic photography skills. This included the senior pictures she took of her cousin (Charlie’s daughter), and she told him which ones she thought were best. This naturally led to discussing the holidays. Her hope was he was willing to carpool to her parents’ house. It was selfish, mainly because she didn’t think her car would make it the three-hour drive out of the city. Not that she was going to tell him that.

But the boys interrupted before she could get that far. She turned, smiled brightly at her team of restless twenty-something-year-old puppies. She set her coffee on the ledge of the window of an office for one of the team assistants and gave the boys a proper wave. “Are you all ready for gameday?” She asked.

But no one was paying any attention to her greeting. Instead, their gazes were focused on the number on her body. The black-and-silver-lettering and logo was riveting it seemed even though it was on all their own jerseys as well.

So much for it not being a thing. “Sweetheart, I’m honored,” Niall chuckled. Were his cheeks pink in embarrassment? That was cute—he looked so nervous. Niall was adorable. She could see why Harry was so protective of him. In the time she had gotten to know him, she seriously didn’t know how someone so sweet and nice could be roped into a rough and tumble sport like hockey.

“What?” She asked curiously, hoping that if she acted confused, they wouldn’t make it a bigger deal than it needed to be.

It seemed there was little chance of such a thing. “You’re wearing my jersey,” his grin remained shy and so, so adorable.

Well, maybe she could use it to her advantage. “Well, don’t tell the others but you’re my favorite,” she winked.

But it wasn’t quiet and everyone heard it. The gasps and scoffs of disbelief echoed loudly as they entered the locker room to drop some of their stuff. First there would be game day entrance photos, the boys looking dressed in not quite formal but not so casual attire. The stuff that made hearts throb to look at them (and other organs throb if she was honest). They would pose as if they hadn’t already walked in, and no one would know except for them.

Niall turned a shade redder and headed in. “Don’t break my goalie,” Charlie warned.

“I would never break Niall!” She pouted petulantly at her uncle. “Why are they all up and arms about the jersey? It was free and I fixed it. Is it not allowed?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart,” he chuckled. “It’s just a dumb hockey-guy thing,” he patted her on the back and headed into the locker room.

“Harry’s running late,” Lang said as he returned with just a duffle bag and an overpriced water bottle that was part of his sponsorship deal. “Hit some traffic or something. So, you might not get his game day entrance,” he told her with a shrug.

She nodded. “That’s fine,” she shrugged and snapped a picture of him while he wasn’t really focused, testing the lighting and frame once more now that she had a subject. “There’s enough of you guys to suffice as eye candy for the day we probably won’t need everyone’s picture.”

Lang laughed, covering his mouth. “Sweetheart, please say that in front of Harry while I’m around and you’re wearing that jersey,” he begged. She frowned unsure what he meant by that specifically. Instead, she shook her head and began ordering the captain and his teammates around to get the first part of her evening’s tasks done.

*

Harry showed up just as she took the last shot of the team walking into the locker room. He was pouring the last bit of his protein shake into his mouth while she examined her camera once more and sipped her coffee that she left on the ledge of the window. There was so much more activity back by the locker room as game time approached. There were team doctors, athletic trainers, assistants, and more milling around.

Harry hated being late. It messed with his pre-game rituals. But there wasn’t anything he could do about traffic. Plus, Hayden lived on the exact opposite side of the city. He really shouldn’t have bothered with trying to sneak a quick hook-up in before the game. But he needed something to take the edge off and nothing was working.

Granted the hook-up left him feeling unsatisfied as well. Although it wasn’t Hayden’s fault. She was lovely, truly. It was all Harry’s brain. Something was off and he couldn’t quite place it.

But one look at the pretty photographer wearing the number thirty-one on her body reminded him that he was much more aware of the issue than he was willing to admit. He blinked hoping his eyes were mistaken. But no, the name Horan was on her back.

“Rookie!” He called.

What the fuck was he going to say? It didn’t even make sense for him to be mad. She didn’t do anything wrong. God, Harry was an idiot. She was off limits. For all he knew she had one of everyone’s jersey and was going to rotate through.

It was probably not a good sign that she looked up when she heard that nickname, right? It wasn’t good to get used to knowing it was Harry calling her the moment she heard his teasing. But right then, Harry didn’t look teasing. His gaze was laser-focused on her torso (and not the way she would expect him to be focused on her chest). “Hi Harry,” she smiled, sweetly; hoping vehemently that this wasn’t about the jersey. “Do you want a game day photo?” She asked gently holding her camera up.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He snapped.

This hoping thing ain’t shit. She thought. Glancing down at her outfit once more, she frowned. “I thought I looked cute,” she pouted.

Harry was all but half a foot in front of her. “You’re wearing Niall’s jersey.”

“It’s from the locker room, it was going to get thrown out, so I just sewed it,” she shrugged. “Is that not allowed? No one said anything.”

He seemed to bristle but settled at the same time. She really didn’t get what the big deal was. “S’fine,” he grumbled. “Y’do look cute. You always look cute,” he rolled his eyes and pushed the locker room door open with a little too much power. She shook her head and heard laughter from behind the door.

“Boys are weird,” she sighed and headed for the tunnel to get to the ice.

*

She texted Michael from her car when she got back to the apartment at one in the morning. It was dark, cold, and she had a weird feeling as she pulled into the small lot. He hurried out yawning as he did. He was wearing only shorts, a t-shirt, and slippers. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she frowned and hurried to the front of the building. He waited patiently for her to lock her car.

“S’fine, Sweetheart,” he shrugged and yawned.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. She really needed to find a new place, so she didn’t have to bother them. But she swore she could feel someone’s eyes following her as she closed the entry door to her building. Michael headed down the first-floor hall to his place without another word. She stopped at her small little mailbox, locked on the inside. Only a slit in the wall from the outside to get in. It was all junk and bills. She didn’t give her address to anyone. Not even Uncle Charlie had her real address. She mentioned some apartment complex on the good side of town. But when pressed, she immediately diverted and asked if he would be okay with shipping her Amazon packages to his house. It did the trick, fortunately. Her parents didn’t think much of it either because they knew Charlie was keeping an eye on her.

It was all she could afford after not working much because of Kael and his weird obsession with making sure she played the proper part of picture-perfect hockey girlfriend. This was a sketchy part of town, and she knew it and didn’t like living here either. But what could she really do? Making friends with Michael and Marc was easy and she was lucky. So very lucky to have people keep an eye out for her when she got home late and felt like she was being followed.

So, when she turned to the stairwell behind the little mail room and saw the very angry hockey player outside the door of her building peering through the glass, she practically jumped back a foot and immediately and nearly screamed.

She clamped a hand over her mouth and pressed the other one to her heart, dropping her mail in the process. “What the fuck are you doing?!” She whisper-screamed opening the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry hissed stepping inside. He gathered up her mail handing it to her. He continued glaring as he took in the run-down place. “Do you live here?”

“Yes!”

“Rookie, this is not a safe area. Why are y’living here?”

“Because I can afford it? What kind of fucking question is that?”

Harry looked so good having just played a grueling game that included overtime and a shootout. His hair was still damp from his shower. His face glowing that way he managed to do in the dead of winter that was so unfair to her. He smelled good—too good. He wore a black hoodie, black pants, and black sneakers. Like he was trying to blend in with the night. The only not good-looking thing about him at the moment was the sour expression on his otherwise extremely pretty features. The furrow between his eyebrows looked angry. The green of his eyes appeared darker, almost black to match his clothes. His mouth was pressed in a flat line.

But even angry, Harry looked hot. He had been angry all evening. Since he set foot in the arena. He didn’t relax when they all went to The Locker Room either. He hardly spoke to Niall and barely acknowledged his good goal tending. “Does coach know you live here?”

She shook her head. “Harry, shut the fuck up. Why did you follow me home like a creep!?”

“Because s’one in the morning and y’said y’were exhausted and that your car was a piece of shit! I was making sure y’made it home. I didn’t know home was even scarier!”

“Hey babe, everything alright? Michael texted you would be on your way up and to keep an ear out.” Marc called as he approached them descending the stairs.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she whispered and rubbed her temples.

“Holy shit,” Marc gaped.

“Harry, this is Marc,” she introduced the pair, but lacked any enthusiasm. “He’s my neighbor.”

Harry glared at him—even though he didn’t deserve it. “Hi,” he said curtly.

“I’m fine,” she told Marc. “Harry followed me home.”

“Great game today, man,” he looked awestruck; no longer concerned about her well-being at all and entirely concerned about the beautiful man in front of him. “That was a bogus penalty in the second period.”

“I said the same thing,” she nodded in agreement hoping it would remind Harry that she made her own little place here and he didn’t need to worry. That he was her friend.

Harry softened just a little. His shoulders untensed ever so slightly. “Thanks,” he nodded curtly, trying to remain polite to a fan when he wanted to shake the sweet photographer. “Rookie, show me your place,” he ordered.

“Michael and I keep an eye on her,” Marc offered sensing there was a deeper issue.

Harry eyed him up and down and then turned back to her. “Show me your place,” he repeated.

“No!”

“Jesus, babe, show the hot man your apartment!”

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and slid them down her nose and over her lips as she spoke. “Marc,” she sighed. “Go away.”

“Huge fan,” he held his hands up in surrender and made his way upstairs.

Harry was staring at her in disbelief. “You’re not living here.”

“Harry,” she sighed.

“I’ve had a shit day, Rookie. Don’t fucking test it,” he snapped and headed up the stairs figuring he would find it on his own because he would just know? She shook her head.

“Third floor,” she mumbled following behind him. He sighed with relief from ahead of her.

“Take that stupid fucking shirt off,” he said once the door was shut.

“Why are you so angry today?” She shed her camera carefully setting it on the small table. Then her badge. She dropped her keys on the table too. Quickly, before he could get angrier, she rid herself of the jersey and her hoodie.

Harry sighed again, relieved it seemed of what she didn’t know. Without broiling in irritation over his friend’s name all over the girl he had a massive crush on, he was able to focus a little more. Glancing around he inspected the small place. It was cute, adorable even. Just like her.

She bent to take her shoes off. “Do you want water or something? You’re so keyed up... Maybe you want a sedative?” She rolled her eyes at him.

He snorted. “Pass,” he continued looking around. “S’nice, really,” he murmured

“It is,” she agreed. “I don’t plan on staying here forever, but it’s what’s affordable right now. Not all of us make seven figures a year for their talent.”

He ignored her and wandered around the little rooms she had. On all of her walls were more photos she had clearly taken. It didn’t take much for him to figure out her style. It was natural and lovely. “S’cold in here.”

“Heat’s expensive,” she remarked. “Do you want some tea?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, thank you, Rookie,” he mumbled relaxing more as he inhaled deeply. Everything was so intoxicatingly her in this room. It smelled so good. She smelled so good. “Is Marc in love with you?” He asked offhandedly.

“Not unless I identify as a man, which I don’t.”

He smirked, unable to hide the amusement. She was so funny, it was unfair. Beautiful, talented, kind, and funny. She was made in a lab and meant to tempt every one of Harry’s desires. “What ‘bout the guy that walked y’in?” He picked up the book that was on her coffee table and read the back of it, wondering what kind of books she was into and if she liked the same things as him. He set the book down carefully.

“Michael? No. He’s a baby.”

“He’s taller than you,” he murmured.

“He’s not in love with me. Well, actually, I do make him cookies. So maybe,” she shrugged.

He shook his head wishing he could focus on his own questions. But she was too quick and Harry was too tired.

On the wall of her living room was an array of small frames. Probably fifteen or so four by six photos that his mom would have put in a photo album. He recognized Charlie and Ray. A man he could only assume was Charlie’s brother and her dad as they looked like twins with different hair and eye coloring. Girls in their teens, a dog that never seemed to age even though the family around it did, and her gorgeous smile.

There was also a stupid fucking picture of Niall on her wall beside a team photo which made him want to yank it down and stomp on it like a psychopath.

Poor Niall did nothing to deserve Harry’s wrath. The team teased him the moment he went into the locker room telling him all about how she said Niall was his favorite. It wasn’t surprising. Niall was nice and sweet. He didn’t hook up with a bunch of girls nor did he go from city to city hoping to be entertained by a different girl. He was a nice guy. Probably the kind of guy she did deserve. Especially after whatever it was that Kael did to arguably ruin his life by losing her. He barely congratulated him on his saves in the game. Didn’t even buy him a drink at the bar either. To Niall’s credit, he didn’t take it too harshly. Merely smirked at him as he glared. Knowing it really had nothing to do with him at the heart of it.

But the picture of his best friend on her wall just made him grumpier all over again. It didn’t help that Harry was exhausted. He dreaded having to drive home this late. Especially when he was mad on top of everything else. But having seen where she lived, he was glad he followed her home. Didn’t care that it was creepy. It would have made him insane to know she wasn’t safe.

There wasn’t much he could do but turn his attention to her kitchen so he could avoid the stupid picture of his stupid friend who he didn’t like very much at present.

Right there on the fridge door was one of her family photos—clearly taken at a wedding or something. A quick glance showed she wasn’t in it which made him sad. How often was she left out of pictures because she was always the one taking them? Beside her family was the side-by-side duo picture of herself that he saw on her website. A photo of her parents’ dog next to that. A couple landscapes of the ocean and sun.

Right in the middle of all her photos was a picture of Harry.

He swore time stopped. All his anger towards Niall disappeared. Why was he on her fridge? It was the picture of when he scored a goal, from one of the first games she photographed this year. The one she sent him the first time she texted him. “Why’s this on the fridge?” He asked, straightening it alongside the others it. There was a magnet on the back and Harry felt his chest constrict a bit knowing he wasn’t on the wall, but he was in her house. She cared in some way enough to put him among her pictures of family and friends.

She shrugged. “I put all of my favorite pictures on the fridge,” she said it so simply. It wasn’t a big deal to her. The pictures belonged there and that was it. It just was.

His heart sincerely skipped a beat. Like if he were a cartoon, a graphic of a little heart monitor would appear in a cloud bubble, and it would show an irregular rhythm representing the way she made him feel. His gaze flickered to her briefly, but he was worried he would stare and never look away. He cleared his throat and looked toward her wall of photos. “What ‘bout the wall over there?”

“Those are nice pictures too, but I don’t really look at the wall much. It’s behind me when I sit on the couch, you know...? The fridge however,” she had a smile in her voice. “I love snacks and cooking and baking. So, I’m in the kitchen a lot. So, I like to look at my favorites.”

Harry felt softer. Relieved. Less mad and annoyed than he’d been in hours. Maybe even days if he was honest. Harry was one of her favorites. Even if she didn’t mean he was her favorite and merely the photo.

“Bunny?” He asked softly staring at the other half dozen or so of her favorites.

She didn’t miss a beat answering to the nickname that she didn’t really like. But she did really like the way it sounded when Harry said it. “Yeah?”

“Would y’ever wear my jersey?” His voice was quiet, he felt stupid for asking. The question wouldn’t leave his brain until he said it. Whatever the answer was, he had to ask it.

She frowned and sighed. Harry hated that. It seemed like a terrible question, and he was dreading her answer immediately. “I hate to say it, Harry, but I can’t afford a Styles jersey.”

He rolled his eyes. “Would y’wear it?”

“Of course I would, Harry. You’re my friend just like Niall is. And Asher, Callie, and Lang. I really only wore it because you guys were throwing it out.”

Harry rubbed a hand on the side of his face. He could live with that. “Alright.”

“Did I miss something?” She asked. But he knew how perceptive she was. She had to know how much it bothered him that she wore his friend’s name and number on her body today and not his. She had to know he had a crush on her. Even if he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Nope,” he shook his head not wanting to get into it further.

“Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” She asked again. “You seem really out of sorts...maybe you need something without alcohol?”

“Sure,” he sighed. She could give him whatever she wanted. She wouldn’t be able to tell, but he was relieved now. He didn’t need anything else. “Tea would be nice...” She nodded, gently nudging him out of the way to get a pitcher of water from her fridge. “Can I stay here?”

“You want to stay in my crappy little apartment? After you went on and on about how unsafe it is?” She questioned filling the kettle on her stove.

Fair point, Bunny. “M’exhausted, Rookie. I told you I had a bad day.”

“I see that,” she pouted and scanned him up and down. “Of course you can. You have to take my bed though; the couch is too small for you.”

He shook his head. “M’not kicking y’out of your bed when I barged in.”

“Well... it was... kind of nice that you made sure I got home safely. I’m glad it was you, but I was pretty nervous... so if it wasn’t you...” she shook her head and looked at her hands wringing them awkwardly. “I’m sorry you got stuck here,” she pouted.

More of him softened somehow. It seemed impossible that she could make him feel any softer. He was certain he never felt softer than when she said that his picture was one of her favorites. The way she spoke was so gentle.

“I fall asleep most nights on the sofa anyway,” she shrugged, unaware of the thoughts rolling through Harry’s head. She probably hadn’t a clue how she made him imagine her adorable body curled into the small sofa with a blanket around her. What it would be like for him to come home from a game and find her snuggled into a sweatshirt with his cologne on it, the TV playing the post-game highlights, and her hands tucked under her cheek. Did she snore? Harry ached to know.

God he was fucked. How did she walk into the arena and do that? Harry thought of nothing but hockey and hookups. Now he wondered if she snored at night.

She carefully poured the hot water into a mug with The Charger’s logo on the outside and dipped the tea bag in and out a few times letting the water do its thing. She slid it across the small counter before she poured her own mug. They stood silently for a moment, sipping tea.

“I might have something of Kael’s for you to sleep in.”

“I’d rather die than sleep in that piece of shit’s clothes.”

She smirked around the edge of her mug and shook her head. “Are you cold?” She asked.

He shook his head. It was cold but he wasn’t cold. He would be fine with a few blankets. A warm body beside him would be good too, but he wasn’t sure he could convince her.

She put her mug in the sink and went to the bathroom without warning. After a few minutes, she returned. Her face was washed of makeup, her hair pulled back, and she wore a pair of sweatpants instead. She grabbed a pillow off her bed. “Normally I’d change your sheets, but... It’s too late. I hope you don’t mind.”

Wrapped up in sheets, blankets, and pillows that smelled like her? Fine by him. “S’fine, Rookie. Thank you.”

She grabbed more blankets from under her sofa cushion; a space for storage hiding in plain sight. She placed them at the end of her bed and then went to the sofa. “Make yourself at home,” she offered. “Night, Harry,” she yawned and settled into her pillow and blanket, nuzzling into the warmth just as he imagined, her hands tucked under her cheek.

“Night, Rookie,” he mumbled and climbed into her bed. He was practically asleep before he was fully settled.

*

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours later—it was still very dark out. Her bed was warm, soft, and smelled so fucking good he thought he might sew himself into the sheets just so he never had to leave. But it was undeniably cold. Even in his hoodie and sweats.

He glanced across the room and could barely make out the shadow of his pretty crush curled into the sofa. She looked chilled and Harry felt so immensely guilty. He got out of bed, his feet nearly stinging on the cold floor. Without more thought he scooped her up. His arms looping around the back of her knees and the other around her waist. He tried to move her without jostling her too much. Her head fell toward him, pressing into his chest as he carried her back to the bed. He settled her under her sheets and blankets. He wanted nothing more than to cozy up to her, but he wasn’t going to ruin the progress he made that night. Instead, he slipped between the sheet and blanket, draped the pair of them in the other blankets.

She sighed loudly in her sleep. Like she was comfortable.

Harry didn’t think there was anyone cuter than her.

*

Harry woke up to her burrowed into his side. He didn’t dare move. If she wanted out, she would have to make the move. There wasn’t anything that would get Harry to remove himself from her warm body in the same bed as him. It was almost too warm, but well worth it.

“Jesus,” she whispered suddenly and scooched back in the bed. “Harry!” She hissed.

He smirked. “Good morning, Rookie,” he yawned. “Sleep well?”

“How did I get here?”

“Y’must have tucked yourself in with me,” he smiled.

She rolled her eyes, shook her head. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

“Y’jus’ looked cold,” he shrugged. “S’plenty of room.”

She sighed. “Well thanks, it was cozy,” her cheeks turned red. “Do you want something to eat?” She asked, immediately pivoting from their little late-night cuddle.

“Y’make breakfast too?”

“It’s actually my favorite meal...” she trailed off pushing the covers off. “I love going out to breakfast,” she got out of bed and grabbed a sweatshirt from her dresser. Harry sensed there was more to that, but as soon as he saw her sweatshirt, all previous thoughts left his mind.

Niall’s number and name on her body made him mad.

The words Glacier Wolves across the front in it’s hideous font was going to send him to an early grave.

“No,” he shook his head immediately. “Take it off.”

“You’re awfully bossy about my outfits, Harry,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s cold. I need a sweatshirt.”

Harry pulled the one he was wearing off. “Here.”

For a moment she eyed it. Harry couldn’t figure out her expression or the pause that lasted as she examined it. “Harry it’s like ten degrees out,” she pulled the hem down and walked toward her bathroom again.

He pouted, grumbling to himself as he put his clothing back on. “M’burning that,” he mumbled.

“I heard that!”

*

Harry left after breakfast. He didn’t bug her about her sweatshirt. But he did beg her to turn the heat on for a little bit. He helped her with dishes and not once did the conversation feel forced, awkward, or like there was a lull that lasted too long. He watched her take pictures of her food, then the way the light streamed in through the window, so it hit her coffee table just so. She adjusted her book to an open page and set a hot cup of tea beside it.

With a couple of snaps, Harry watched her while biting into his toast. “Can I see?” He asked.

“It’s nothing special. I just take random pictures sometimes for practice,” she explained.

He wiped his hand on his leg and held it out expectantly for the priceless equipment. It felt weird, awkward. Tentatively, she handed it to him. Not only had she captured the beauty of the early morning in her little place, she took another picture of Harry drinking tea in between bites.

He smiled. “Aw, Rookie, me?” He teased. She didn’t say anything, looked anywhere but him while her pink cheeks spoke for the emotions she was feeling. “M’not sure why but m’still really impressed,” he tabbed through the pictures she took on the little screen.

She must have faced the camera backwards because her pretty smiling face with the ice rink as back drop behind her illuminated the screen. Harry loved everything about the photo. It had her and his beloved hockey rink. “Can I have this one?” He asked.

“I was going to delete that,” she blushed. Harry frowned.

“No way, Rookie, y’look adorable. Let me have it, y’got me on your fridge.”

She looked away shyly, nodded silently. “I’ll text it to you.”

Harry was unbelievably talented and attractive. He could outthink his opponents on the ice and he was sweet enough to make sure she got home safe. Carried her to bed in the middle of the night to keep her warm.

It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have him. Even if it was her own doing.

Around ten or so, Harry had to head out and she hated to admit it, but she really missed him almost the moment he left.

*

The following day she headed to practice taking pictures for the team’s social media posts. Ray and Charlie were at the center of the ice waiting for the team to file out of the locker room. She took a picture of her uncle and surrogate uncle. Then she setup for some detail shots while waiting. The score book and pen on the bench. A stick propped up behind the bench. She laid flat on the ice and got a shot of the coach’s shoes on the center of the ice.

“Hey Sweetheart!” Callie called from across the rink—first one on the ice. Ray threw a puck at him, and he shot it into the net. Charlie threw another and he pushed the puck back and forth near him. “Laying down on the job?”

She snorted, shook her head with a smile. “Come here!” He glided over and stopped in front of her without getting ice all over her and her equipment. “Put your stick flat on the ground,” she ordered. She reached out and touched the puck and pushed it in front of the slight bend at the end of his stick. “Take your helmet off, and your gloves.”

“You gonna tell me to take more of my uniform off, Sweetheart?” He teased but followed her directions.

“You wish.”

“I do wish, Sweetheart, I do.”

She shook her head while centering her view on the shot she wanted. “Don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am,” he sighed dreamily. He was enjoying her bossing him around too much and she couldn’t help but smile while she clicked the shutter taking several of the same photo.

“Okay, thank you,” she carefully maneuvered so she would flop awkwardly back on the ice. Callie immediately grabbed her camera and then took hold of her arm to help her up. Once righted, she brushed the ice off the front of her body. She was quite chilled from lying on the ground for so long. Plus her apartment was cold, naturally her car’s heater was chilly, and it felt like she never quite got out of the cold ever because of it.

“Can I see?” He said excitedly.

She turned the camera to show him. Her teeth chattered a little more than usual. Callie put an arm around her shoulders to add some warmth. He was tall and lean like most other hockey players. And undoubtedly attractive too. “You’re pushing it, Kian,” she shook her head but didn’t mind how warm he felt.

“No one calls me Kian except my mother, Sweetheart,” he reminded her. “You’re cold. Don’t read into it,” he took the camera from her and thumbed through the photos pressing the buttons beside the screen to view them. “Wow,” he murmured. “That’s so cool, Sweetheart. It looks really beautiful.”

She blushed with pride and ducked her face. “Thank you.”

“You know... I’m not sure what he did, but Kael is an idiot to lose you,” he affirmed clicking through more of the photos. “Can we take one?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she turned the camera around and pointed where Callie needed to look. He squeezed around her a little tighter as she clicked the shutter. He immediately took the camera back and examined the photo. “Cute, Sweetheart,” he grinned and continued flipping through all her photos. Including the ones from her breakfast with Harry the day before. “Ooh... what’s this?” He cooed. “Did you and Styles have a sleepover?!” He gaped.

She took her camera back. “No,” she didn’t even blush. It wasn’t his business. She didn’t want Charlie to hear.

And she definitely didn’t want Harry to hear.

Harry slid onto the ice his eyes zeroing in on his teammate’s arm wrapped around her almost immediately. She felt a little awkward knowing that he seemed to be a bit territorial about her even though it wasn’t really within his right. He glowered at the puck that Charlie tossed to him, and it sailed almost immediately into the net from where he stood. “I can’t compete with him, Sweetheart,” Callie frowned. “Please tell me you don’t actually like Styles.”

“I like all of you, Kian,” she rolled her eyes, tearing her eyes away from his broody skating.

“But you like me most, right?” Asher appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“She likes you least,” Lang said assuredly skating by just as quick. She laughed and shook her head.

“I like you all equally,” she promised.

“Bull shit, you can’t sell a twenty-way-tie!” Asher frowned.

She loved her little family away from her real one. This team made her feel more loved and appreciated than Kael ever did. It was eye-opening in so many ways. Was it just because she took pictures on the team? Would they behave this way if she was just a girlfriend? Or the coach’s niece without special treatment? She got special treatment from the other girlfriends and wives of the Glacier Wolves simply because she was Kael’s girlfriend.

At about the same time she started to feel drained by her relationship (the last six months before it ended), she overheard two of the significant others talking about her in the bathroom. While she was using the bathroom... They said Kael was an idiot to stay with her. She was a leech and nothing more. For three years she had been nothing but a good girlfriend. She attended every game, catered to Kael’s workout schedules, practice schedules. She monitored his calendar and made sure his stunning, penthouse apartment was cleaned. She hosted parties for his teammates. For three years post-graduation she didn’t take photography gigs, skipped family parties, and let her degree sit on a shelf unused to it’s full potential.

Maybe The Chargers boys were just being kind because she was the coach’s niece. Maybe her skill really was subpar. Wasn’t she really just a leech in a new way now? Her uncle got her this job and they didn’t really need her.

Kael fucked her up good. Made her feel worthless. He didn’t value her skill and made her believe she wasn’t good enough in any part of her life. “Hey Sweetheart?” Callie asked, giving her a squeeze, bringing her mind back to the present. “You good?”

She nodded. “Sorry, just daydreaming.”

“About me?!” Asher grinned. She smiled. At least for now, this family she had was sweet. She wanted to believe they valued her for her and savor it for however long she could.

*

While the boys practiced, she went to the locker room and tidied up, brought the dirty uniform hamper to the laundry room, and brought the clean laundry back. She took more detail shots without the boys around. It was fun to get them in the shots, like the ones she took with Callie. But ever-like puppies, it was easier to get pictures without them milling around eagerly. She took some really nice shots of their locker space. With the right lighting, it would look like they were ready for battle—she could see it in her head, and she couldn’t wait to get the shots of their numbers alongside equipment on her computer to play with the settings.

But after about an hour of that, she ran out of things to do. She sauntered back to the rink and watched from the bench. Ray and Charlie stood at the center dictating where they should go and what to do next. It was mesmerizing. The beauty and graceful agility these tall, lean, padded men exuded was incredible.

“Take a picture it will last longer!”

The team burst into laughter as Callie called out to her. She shook her head but certainly did just that.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Niall grinned coming over during another break. “Heard you had Harry over. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

She smiled. “No, he was good,” she assured him. “It was nice he followed me home. To make sure I was safe.”

“Yeah, he’s decent like that. His sister Gemma made him a real gentleman,” he agreed. “He didn’t like you wearing my jersey,” he told her.

“I’m well aware.”

“I won’t say no if you wear it again.”

She laughed. “Will do.”

“Want to make him madder taking a picture?”

“Maybe tomorrow, Kian made him pretty mad today with that one already.”

“Who?” Niall furrowed his eyebrows. She shook her head and silently laughed. “Is that what the silent treatment was for?” Niall asked with a laugh and skated off to rejoin his team.

*

At the end of practice, she took shots of them leaving the ice, the empty net. In her head she had a series of photos. The sequence of a hockey game and maybe she would put it into motion one day. She sat on the bench looking at her camera screen and sifted through some of the multiples she didn’t need.

“Hey Rookie,” Harry said softly.

She looked up and smiled. “Hi, Harry.”

Dangling from his fingers were a pair of figure skates. All white, pink guards, pink anterior cushioning, and pink laces.

“I got you these.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“To practice.”

“Harry, I cannot accept that. I know how much ice skates cost. Those have to be close to 400 dollars.”

He shrugged. “That’s what a good pair cost.”

“Harry, I can’t even stand on the ice. Return them. I’m not taking a 400-dollar pair to ruin because I can’t even stand still while wearing them... And they’re practically giving me blisters from just looking at them. I don’t have the right socks..." Harry looked disappointed and he frowned. "But... that... that was very sweet of you,” she added. Because she hadn’t said thank you yet, and it was sweet. It was extremely thoughtful of him. “Thank you,” she added gratefully. “That was so nice of you.”

“Do you like Callie?” He blurted.

“Do you think I’m in love with every man I meet?” She countered.

“You two looked cozy,” he mumbled.

“I was cold,” she admitted. “He offered his jersey, but I didn’t want a repeat of the other night,” she quipped. Harry smirked and looked away from her. “I’m not dating hockey players, remember?” She grabbed her camera and bag ready to leave the rink.

“Yeah...” he sighed, rubbed the back of his head. “I know, Rookie.”

*

There was a knock on her door later that evening. She assumed it was Michael asking if she had baked anything after feeling a bit on the munchier side of life. It probably wasn’t Marc because he had a date with the hockey lover. But maybe it was an early night for them, so who knew.

Instead, Harry was there. A pair of skates dangling from his fingers once more. The guards were still pink, there were scuffs on the toes and heels. The interior was cushioning was a light brown. “They’re a good brand. Used, so they didn’t cost a lot. But full disclosure, they were the most expensive used pair I could find because m’not gonna let y’skirt on the quality because of the cost. They won’t hurt your feet with blisters being brand new.”

Harry, with used ice skates, was the last person she expected to see. There was a tug in her chest where her heart would have melted for Kael to do something as kind as that. But she couldn’t fall in love with Harry. It was just a bad idea. He was a celebrity. There were millions of women he could choose from.

“Have you had it with dragging me around the ice or something?” She asked.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, but... I want t’help you, Rookie. Y’should know how t’skate. Think of the pictures y’could take even if y’jus’ learn t’skate a little,” he shrugged.

That tug in her chest felt an awful lot like Harry worming his way into the center of her universe. But she didn’t want to do that again. Not really. She didn’t want to dote on Harry the way she did only for it to backfire on her. She still had a lot of time, but she felt behind. Kael made it so she didn’t have tons of money. She ‘didn’t have to worry about it’ because he made plenty. But it wasn’t about money. It was about her independence and now she felt like she literally paid the price. “I got y’some socks too,” Harry added.

Goddammit.

She was going to fall in love with him.

--

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[blanketorghost]

Nah I refuse to believe Azul's cooking is MEDIOCRE that man has been cooking without fire for YEARS I know he would make a smashing ceviche

[thbstvrdthmtlbndndntn]

My boyfriend and I made dinner together for his parents since im staying with them for 9 days over the holidays and there were some hairy spots but we did really well together and I have to say. I freaked it

[kaleschmidt]

OHHHH I MIGHT EXPLODE ACTUALLY (THINKING ABT MAETHA LIVES AU)

[luveline]

oh my god Jade I love coworker James!!! can we please see Remus and Sirius actually catching them !:)))

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.3k

James Potter is eating his lunch in peace when you find him in the staff kitchen. It was nice to eat in silence —he won’t get any of that now. 

“Hi, lovely,” he says. 

“Stop,” you say instantly, pulling the fridge door open to extract your lunch. James watches the curve of your shoulder, your arm, even your leg as you bend to grab your Tupperware before straightening out. 

“What are you having?” 

“Can’t we eat in mutual, agreeable silence?” you ask. 

James thinks about it, but when you’re around he can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. “No, maybe tomorrow, though.” 

“Brilliant.” 

You sit down —in the chair next to his, he’d like to point out, and not the one opposite— and open your Tupperware. You have a salad with what looks like diced tofu, grilled and honeyed, salt and pepper cracked over dressed leaves of kale and lettuce. 

“That looks good.” 

“You’re so healthy, I thought I’d outdo you,” you say, popping your foldable fork from the Tupperware lid. 

“You’ve managed it.” James is eating chicken katsu in wraps with a chilli sauce, lettuce, and finely sliced tomato. For his afters, he has three bags of crisps and a tangerine he’s going to share with you, two slices to one.

For a little bit, you both chew and say nothing. After a few minutes he reaches under the table to hold your thigh. A few minutes more and you’re letting your leg fall against him, smiling around bites of salad. 

“Do you wanna come over tonight?” he asks. 

“Maybe you should come to mine?” you ask, a shade of timid. “I know you’ve never been, it’s not nice as yours is, but at least Sirius won’t walk in on us.” 

James wonders if that means what he thinks it does, or if you’re just sick of being kissed and then shot away from. If it means the first thing, he really needs to ask if you want to be his girlfriend. Like, today. He’s worried you’re gonna say no, but he doesn’t want you thinking that intimacy from him is casual, because it really won’t be. 

“We can get dinner first?” he suggests, feeling along your knee gently. 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“Where do you want to, pretty girl?” 

You shift ever so slightly in your chair. “I don’t know. Where’s somewhere nice? Or do you want casual, like, the Chinese buffet by the cinema? It’s quite nice in there.” 

“I wanna go wherever you fancy,” he says. He’s flirting, or not flirting but affectionate, his voice velveteen as he ducks his head. He wants to find your hand and kiss it. He loves kissing the tips of your fingers, but it’s a sure fire way to get you to lean away from him. He knows you like it, evidenced by your smile, and by your willingness to give him your hand again the next time. “Do you think we can just–” he shouldn’t ask here, should he? He does it anyhow. “I want it to be a date. Like, a proper, actual date we own up to.” 

“Like we tell everyone we went?” 

“Not right now, not if you don’t want to. Just between us then. It’s a real date.” 

Something moves in your neck. You bite your lip but let it fall back into place as you say, “Yeah, okay. A real date.” 

“Okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah, okay,” you repeat. “I’d really like to.” 

“You would?” he asks softly. 

You turn in your seat to check the door, before leaning into his lap, and pressing a quick, careful kiss to lips, just a little to the side and up, your mouth aligned to the corner of his and the skin beneath his nose. 

“So, somewhere nice, then,” you say as you sit in your seat properly. 

James hooks his ankle behind the leg of your chair and drags you as close as he can possibly get you without yanking you into his lap. “I genuinely don’t care where we go, I just wanna go with you.” He gestures for you to come back, his hand rising to your shoulder. “I could kiss you stupid right here, I hope you know.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, laughing despite yourself. 

He wasn’t making a joke, but he supposes he’s coming on strong. “I could, but I won’t. I’m too nice and you probably taste like kale anyways, which would be a punishment for me I don’t deserve.”

“Not the most flavourful vegetable, is it?” 

He laughs softly against your lips. One second he’s not going to kiss you here, and the next it’s as though his body decided all on its own. He smiles too much to kiss you properly, but a kiss is a kiss. Kissing you is like electric and fireworks, and honey and sugar, and all manner of cliche things. It’s like a long day ending. It’s like your heart and his are the same, for just those few seconds together. 

“You don’t taste so bad,” he murmurs. 

“You could’ve let me have a drink first.” 

“Where’s the fun in that? Come on, kiss me again.” 

“No, no, ‘cos I don’t like that spicy sauce you put on your wraps and–”

He laughs again, you’re laughing just as loudly, tipping your head to the side as he wades in from the other. 

The kitchen door opens with a whack. You spring apart from one another guiltily, too little too late as the man in the door makes his shock known. 

“Where you just–” Sirius grins like a Cheshire Cat. “You were kissing! I knew it! I can’t–”

“Well you didn’t know it, did you?” Remus asks, giving Sirius a dirty look. “I’ve only tried to tell you ten times that I think there’s something going on with them, they’ve been holding hands. But no, Sirius Black knows everything about James Potter, like I didn’t grow up with you both too.” Remus gives his boyfriend a good glower and makes his way to the fridge.

You immediately fluster, bringing a hand to your eyes as though that might undo what’s been done. 

“We weren’t kissing,” James says. 

“No, then what were you doing, James?” Sirius asks. 

“She was checking my teeth for sesame seeds?” 

“With her tongue,” Sirius says smugly. 

“Sirius, don’t.” Remus pulls his vitamin water from the fridge and remembers himself. “Sorry, Y/N. I’m not trying to embarrass you, and neither is Sirius.” 

“Well, she has nothing to be embarrassed about,” James says, laying his hand on your arm. 

“We really weren’t kissing,” you insist. Then, sighing in defeat. “If anything, James was kissing me and I was letting him.” 

“Yes, because you so often just let me do things to you,” he says, stroking the crook of your elbow with his thumb.

“I knew it,” Sirius says happily, smirking like a fiend as Remus forces the vitamin water into his arms. 

“You did not.” 

“I was just trying to throw you off of the scent, Moony.” 

James meets your eyes, still wide with surprise. “I’m sorry. Uh… They won’t tell?” 

You tip your head. “Someone would’ve found out eventually, right?” 

Right? As in, we would’ve kept going, we’re going to keep dating, and eventually more than that? James will have to buy you a very big bouquet of flowers tonight, lest you not believe him. 

“I’m afraid so. At least that’s out of the way,” he says. 

You bring his hand to your chin. You don’t kiss it, but the action alone has butterflies like hornets bouncing around his stomach. Massive bouquet, he thinks. 

—

more coworker James

[jockdumboy]

How to get dumb bro

alright bro so like u wanna get dumb? like real dumb? like meathead jock vibes? aight bro here’s how u do it. it’s easy af.

step 1: dont think too much

thinking is for nerds bro. u dont need that. just focus on, idk, liftin weights n stuff. if u start thinkin too hard, just like stop, u kno? do pushups instead or flex in the mirror.

step 2: big words r stupid

like why say “confident” when u can just say “yeah bro i’m cool.” keep it simple. smart words make ur brain tired.

step 3: eat gym food only

chicken, rice, protein shakes. thas all u need bro. oh and eggs. lotsa eggs. smart ppl probly eat salads n kale but nah bro we don’t need that green stuff.

step 4: don’t read

books? nah bro. they’re boring. unless it’s got like pics of huge dudes flexin or sick cars, u don’t need it.

step 5: watch movies with muscles

u don’t need no complicated stuff like, idk, “dramas.” just watch action movies where dudes blow stuff up. think fast & furious or like… rocky.

step 6: be confident always even if ur wrong

doesn’t matter if ur wrong bro. just say it loud n proud.

• nerd: “how tall is the eiffel tower?”

• u: “uhhhh like 10 feet or sumthin idk.”

then flex. flexing makes u right.

step 7: workout instead of talkin

if someone tries to ask u smart stuff like “what’s the capital of canada” or somethin, just be like “idk bro but check my biceps” and hit em with a bicep curl right there.

step 8: dont sleep on naps

brains thinkin all day? nah bro. sleep. sleep is like a reset for ur brain. wake up, eat, lift, repeat.

yea bro that’s it. u don’t need smarts when u got gains. just be chill, flex a lot, and say “idk bro” to anything hard. keep it simple. keep it swole.

[mistyshane30]

You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 4)

Synopsis: A night of laughter, drinks, and unexpected tensions—what starts as a simple trip to a comedy bar takes a turn neither of you saw coming. You brace yourself for the stand-up routine, but the real punchline comes when the comedian mistakes you and Agatha for a couple. It’s just a joke… right? 

Word count: 3.2k 

Warnings: Mild language, Mention of alcohol consumption, Mentions of harassment, Physical confrontation, Lingering tension, Unresolved emotions, Subtle angst 

The van rolled to a stop in front of the dimly lit comedy bar, the neon sign casting a soft glow against the pavement. The motion of the sudden halt stirred Agatha, who blinked awake, momentarily disoriented. 

Then she realized. 

She had been sleeping—leaning—on your shoulder the entire ride. 

Agatha’s body stiffened, her breath hitching for just a second before she masked it with a nonchalant stretch. You, having felt the exact moment of her realization, stole a glance in her direction. The way she recovered, shifting seamlessly from surprise to indifference, almost made you smirk. Almost. 

Instead, you shrugged it off and pulled your earbuds out, tucking them into your bag as Jennifer nudged Agatha’s arm. “Come on, sleepyhead. We’re here.” 

The group filed out of the van, stretching from the long ride. The crisp evening air carried a hint of laughter from inside the venue, setting the atmosphere for the night. The comedy bar was a modest yet lively spot, buzzing with energy as people gathered around tables, drinks in hand, ready to be entertained. 

Jennifer took the lead, approaching the front desk where a receptionist greeted her with a warm smile. “Reservation under Jennifer Kale,” she stated. 

The receptionist scanned the list, then nodded. “Ah, yes. Party of six. Right this way.” 

Following her through the crowded space, the group was led to a table directly in front of the stage—center, prime seating. You exchanged a glance with Wanda, who grinned knowingly. “Front row, huh? Guess we’re getting roasted tonight.” 

Alice chuckled as she took her seat. “Better us than someone else.” 

You slid into your seat, and—once again—Agatha ended up beside you. Coincidence? You weren’t so sure. A quick glance around the table caught Wanda and Jennifer exchanging a knowing look, their little smirks barely concealed. Your irritation flared, but you masked it with practiced ease, feigning indifference. 

Agatha, on the other hand, acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary. She adjusted her posture, reached for her phone, and began scrolling—calm, composed. Or at least, that’s the image she wanted to maintain. 

The show hadn't started yet, so they decided to order some food and drinks first. A waiter approached the table, notebook in hand. "Good evening! Can I start you off with some drinks and appetizers?" 

You barely glanced up from your phone. "Animal fries, classic American cheeseburger, and a classic cocktail." 

Agatha set her menu down neatly. "Greek salad and a Black Magic martini." 

Alice grinned. "I’ll take the buffalo wings and a Skinny Grapefruit Moscow Mule." 

Lilia tapped a finger against the menu before nodding. "Truffle fries and a white sangria for me." 

Jennifer hummed in thought before closing her menu. "Just a charcuterie board and a glass of merlot." 

Wanda smirked. "Nachos and an old fashioned." 

The waiter jotted everything down quickly. "Sounds great. I’ll get these started for you right away." 

Once the waiter left, conversation naturally lulled. Wanda and Alice fell into easy chatter, while the rest of the group—including you—busied themselves with their phones, scrolling mindlessly as they waited for their food and drinks. 

After a few minutes, the waiter returned, balancing a tray loaded with plates and glasses. One by one, the dishes were set in front of each of you, the enticing aroma immediately filling the air. 

Jennifer let out an appreciative whistle. "Now this is what I call a pre-show meal." 

As you picked up a fry, Wanda nudged you with a teasing smirk. "Damn, Y/N. You planning to feed an army or just yourself?" 

Alice laughed. "You practically ordered enough for two people." 

You rolled your eyes, unfazed. "I'm starving. That hour-long ride drained me." You took a deliberate bite of your burger. "And besides, I need fuel to survive whatever tonight has in store." 

Lilia snorted. "Yeah, like dodging the comedians’ jokes?" 

"Exactly," you said, pointing a fry at her before popping it into your mouth. 

Jennifer chuckled, raising her whiskey sour. "Well, here's to surviving the night." 

Everyone lifted their glasses in a small toast—except Agatha. She quietly picked at her salad, absentmindedly stabbing at a piece of lettuce while keeping her focus on her plate. Her silence was noticeable, but no one commented on it. You, however, were hyper-aware of her presence beside you—the slight tension in her posture, the way she avoided looking at you, as if she was deliberately shutting out the energy at the table. 

Wanda, catching on, smirked and leaned over. "You good, Agatha? You're a little too quiet for someone about to witness live stand-up." 

Agatha barely looked up, offering a dismissive, "Just eating." 

Wanda raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Jennifer, but let it go. The conversation continued, flowing with laughter and playful jabs, though your mind remained half-distracted by Agatha's odd distance. 

Alice wiped her hands on a napkin and grinned. "Alright, so predictions—who's most likely to get roasted by the comedian first?" 

"Y/N," Lilia said immediately, smirking at you. "It's always the quiet ones in the front row." 

You groaned, tossing a fry at her. "You all better back me up if they come for me." 

"No promises," Jennifer said, smirking as she sipped her drink. 

As the laughter continued, Agatha finally lifted her glass, taking a slow sip of her martini before setting it down. Still detached, still reserved. 

You exhaled softly, pushing down the slight irritation that crept in. Fine. If she wanted to pretend like nothing existed outside of her meal, so be it. 

After a few minutes, the host finally took the stage, a bright grin on their face as they welcomed the audience. "Good evening, everyone! Hope you're all ready for a night of laughs!" The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the atmosphere immediately shifting into excitement. 

The host's eyes scanned the audience before landing on Jennifer, their smirk widening. "Well, well, well—looks like we have a bride-to-be in the house!" They gestured toward her, prompting a round of chuckles from the table. "Congratulations! You ready for some pre-wedding roasting tonight?" 

Jennifer laughed, raising her glass. "Bring it on!" 

"That's the spirit! Nothing like some good ol' public humiliation to kick off the countdown to your big day." The host winked, earning more laughter before they smoothly transitioned into warming up the rest of the audience with lighthearted jokes. 

The energy in the room grew as the host playfully interacted with different tables, cracking jokes, calling out unsuspecting guests, and setting the stage for the night's lineup of comedians. The anticipation buzzed in the air, infectious and electric. 

The group carried on eating, exchanging knowing glances between bites. The conversation flowed naturally, mingling with the laughter echoing across the venue. You took another sip of your drink, bracing yourself for whatever chaos the comedians had in store. 

After that, the opening act for stand-up comedy starts, followed by the middle act. The whole thing is hilarious, and the group bursts into laughter at the comedian’s jokes. You find yourself stealing glances at Agatha when she’s not looking, catching fleeting expressions you can’t quite read. 

By the time the middle act wraps up, your group has finished eating, leaving only drinks on the table. With a few rounds in, the alcohol is starting to take effect—laughter is louder, smiles last a little longer, and conversations flow more freely. Everyone is slightly tipsy, but the real fun begins when the headliner takes the stage for the roast segment. 

The headliner is ruthless in the best way, roasting the crowd left and right. Your table isn’t spared either. The comedian’s eyes land on you, and a slow grin spreads across their face. “Oh, now look at this one,” they say, gesturing toward you. “This is power. This is money. This is—hold on, let me get it right—‘I don’t have time for your nonsense, and I will fire you before lunch break.’” 

The group erupts into laughter, even you can’t hold back a smirk. The comedian squints dramatically. “Seriously, you walked in here looking like the CEO of an evil tech empire. I mean, damn. This is some full-on Miranda Priestly realness. I bet you don’t even blink when you say ‘You’re fired.’” 

You shake your head, chuckling. “I am not that scary.” 

“Oh no, honey, you terrify me,” the comedian teases, making an exaggerated shudder. “I feel like if I asked you for a raise, you’d just stare at me until I reconsidered my entire life.” 

The laughter continues, and as you glance toward Agatha, you catch it—the small, quiet giggle she tries to hide. It’s brief, but it’s there. Your chest tightens, though you quickly compose yourself and turn back to the stage. 

But then, the comedian isn’t done. Their gaze flickers between you and Agatha, a knowing smirk forming. “Oh, and look at this—CEO Boss Bitch and the mysterious, brooding one sitting next to her. There’s a story here, I just know it.” 

The table hollers, except for you and Agatha. 

The comedian crosses their arms, tilting their head. “Okay, tell me the truth. How long have you two been together?” 

You nearly choke on your drink. Agatha visibly stiffens beside you. 

“We’re not,” you say quickly, shaking your head. 

Agatha clears her throat, “Definitely not.” 

The comedian raises their hands in surrender. “Ohhh, my bad! My bad! I just saw the tension. I mean, come on, the energy between you two is practically a Netflix slow-burn romance waiting to happen.” 

The laughter from your friends doesn’t help, and you shoot a glare toward Wanda and Jen, who both look way too amused. The comedian moves on, roasting Jen, Alice, Wanda, and Lilia in turn, making sure no one escapes unscathed. 

By the end of the set, everyone is still giggling, finishing off their drinks as the host returns for some closing remarks. The show is officially over, but the night isn’t. The group decides to linger for a bit, chatting among themselves. Agatha is engaged in conversation with the others, purposefully keeping her back toward you. And you? You’re doing the exact same thing—pretending not to notice her. 

But somehow, despite the distance, the weight of her presence refuses to fade. 

After some time, you excuse yourself from the group to use the bathroom. Standing up, you weave through the tables, scanning the dimly lit space for the restroom sign. It takes a moment, but you finally spot it near the back of the bar. Just as you’re about to walk toward it, a figure steps into your path, blocking the way. 

It’s a man. 

"Hey there, gorgeous," he says, his voice slurred with alcohol. "Haven’t seen you around here before." 

You immediately tense up. "I’m just heading to the bathroom," you say firmly, trying to sidestep him, but he moves with you, cutting you off. 

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. No need to rush," he grins. "Maybe I can keep you company. You look like you could use some fun." 

Your patience wears thin, but you keep your composure. "I’m not interested. Please move." 

The man chuckles, undeterred. "Playing hard to get, huh? I like that." 

And then, before you can react, his hand lands on your shoulder. 

A cold shiver runs down your spine. Your instincts scream at you to get away. You step back, trying to shake him off, but he steps forward, closing the space between you. The overwhelming stench of alcohol clings to him, making your stomach churn. 

"Don’t touch me," you say sharply, your voice laced with warning. 

He ignores you. "Come on, don’t be like that," he slurs, his grip tightening as he leans in. "Just one drink with me." 

Your pulse spikes. The weight of his touch, the suffocating closeness—it triggers something deep and visceral within you. Anger surges up like wildfire. 

"Fuck off!" you snap, shoving him hard. 

The man stumbles back, his drunken daze breaking for a second before it twists into something darker. His face hardens, and before you can take another step, his hand latches onto your arm, yanking you back and slamming you against the wall. 

Panic grips you as you struggle against his hold. He’s strong—stronger than you expected. His breath, reeking of whiskey, fans against your face as he leans in, an unsettling grin curling on his lips. 

"You’re feisty," he murmurs. "I like that." 

Your stomach twists with disgust. You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. Your heart pounds. You need to get out of this— 

Then suddenly, the weight disappears. 

The man is wrenched away from you, shoved back so hard that he nearly stumbles onto the floor. A blur of movement, and then a familiar voice, sharp and full of venom— 

"Back the hell off." 

Agatha. 

The man regains his balance, glaring at her. "And who the fuck are you?" 

Agatha tilts her head, a cold smirk tugging at her lips. "Your worst nightmare." 

Something in her tone—calm, deadly—makes even the drunk man hesitate. But his bravado is short-lived. He scoffs and lunges toward her, raising a fist. 

Big mistake. 

Agatha moves fast. Too fast. In one swift motion, she sidesteps his attack, grabs his wrist, and twists it behind his back, forcing him down with an effortless grace that speaks of experience. The man yelps in pain, his other hand scrambling for balance against the wall. 

"I’d think really hard about your next move," Agatha warns, her voice eerily composed. "Because I promise you, if you touch her again, you won’t be walking out of here with all your teeth." 

The man grits his teeth, writhing in her grip, but ultimately, he knows he’s lost. With a frustrated grunt, he yanks himself free and stumbles back, cradling his wrist. 

"Crazy bitch," he mutters before staggering away into the crowd. 

Agatha watches him go, her posture still tense, like she’s ready to chase him down if he so much as looks back. When she finally turns to you, her expression softens just a fraction. 

"Are you okay?" she asks, scanning your face. "Did he do anything else?" 

You take a shaky breath, still feeling the phantom weight of the man’s grip on your arm. "I’m okay now. Thanks to you." 

Agatha exhales, nodding. "Good." 

You hesitate, then add, "I mean it. Thank you, Agatha. Even with… everything between us right now, you still—" 

Agatha shrugs, cutting you off. "I’m still pissed at you," she admits bluntly. "But you’re still my friend. And when someone messes with you, I’m not gonna stand by and let it happen. No second thoughts." 

Something in her words tugs at your chest. Maybe it’s the sincerity, maybe it’s the way she doesn’t hesitate—like protecting you was never a choice but a given. 

The weight of the past few days settles between you, and suddenly, you don’t want to let the moment slip away. You take a deep breath and finally say it— 

"I’m sorry, Agatha." 

She blinks, surprised. 

You continue, "I went too far with what I said about Ralph. I was out of line, and I hurt you. I just… I was worried about you, but that doesn’t excuse what I said." 

Agatha studies you for a long moment, then sighs. "Yeah. You were an ass." 

You huff out a small laugh. "I know." 

She crosses her arms but nods. "But… I get it. And I appreciate the apology. I forgive you." 

A weight lifts from your chest. The tension between you both eases, just a little. 

You shift on your feet before glancing back at the hallway. "What were you even doing here anyway?" 

"I was going to the bathroom too," Agatha replies casually. "Good timing, huh?" 

You let out a small chuckle. "Yeah. I guess I owe you one." 

She smirks. "Big time." 

Remembering your original mission, you nod toward the door. "Well, I still need to go, so…" 

Agatha gestures toward it. "After you." 

With that, the two of you head inside the bathroom, the lingering weight of what just happened still settling between you. But for the first time in days, something between you and Agatha feels… okay. 

After finishing up in the bathroom, you and Agatha walk back to the table where the rest of the group is gathered. The air between you feels a little lighter now, the weight of past tensions momentarily set aside. 

Alice is the first to notice, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. She nudges Lilia in the elbow, not so subtly. Lilia, catching on, smirks before whispering something to Wanda, who raises an eyebrow and glances your way. Soon, the entire table is looking at the two of you as you approach, their expressions ranging from amused to outright smug. 

You immediately sense the teasing before it even starts. 

"Ohhh, look at this!" Alice grins, crossing her arms. "The storm has passed, huh?" 

Lilia chuckles. "Yeah, look at them. Walking side by side like nothing happened." 

Jen sighs dramatically. "Ah, young love—" 

"Shut up," you cut in, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. 

Wanda, who has been watching this unfold with thinly veiled amusement, leans forward. "So… did you finally apologize?" 

You groan. "Why do you sound so invested in this?" 

"Because," Wanda says, smirking, "we’ve seen this same cycle a hundred times. You piss her off, she ignores you, then you both get over it and pretend it never happened. Rinse and repeat." 

Agatha shakes her head, sighing. "You all seriously have nothing better to do?" 

Jen grins. "Nope." 

You huff, deciding to just get it over with. "Fine, yes, I apologized. Happy now?" 

Wanda claps her hands together. "Extremely." 

Alice leans forward, eyes twinkling. "Wait, wait, wait—there’s more to this story, isn’t there?" She gestures between you and Agatha. "You two weren’t gone that long, so what happened?" 

The teasing simmers slightly when you decide to tell them. You recount the incident near the bathroom—how the man had cornered you, how Agatha had stepped in, and how she had taken him down effortlessly. The table listens intently, the laughter from before dying down. 

"Wait, hold on," Jen says, brows furrowing. "Some drunk creep actually grabbed you?" 

You nod. "Yeah. I tried to push him away, but he was strong. Then Agatha showed up." 

Alice turns to Agatha, jaw dropping. "And you took him down?" 

Agatha shrugs nonchalantly, sipping her drink. "It wasn’t that hard. He was too wasted to even put up a real fight." 

Lilia grins, nudging Alice. "See? All that self-defense training finally paid off." 

Alice whistles. "Damn, Governor Harkness out here protecting citizens firsthand. Maybe you should start patrolling the streets." 

Agatha scoffs. "Please. One idiot at a time." 

The group chuckles, but there’s a mutual understanding that lingers—gratitude for Agatha stepping in, concern over what could have happened, and the unspoken relief that it ended the way it did. 

As the conversation shifts back to lighter topics, you glance at Agatha. Tonight, for the first time in a while, you choose not to tease her. Not because you don’t want to, but because—for just this night—you’re simply grateful she was there. 

The drinks keep flowing, and the group chatters and laughs late into the night. But tomorrow?

That’s another story. 

Taglist: @6stolenangel9 @charlottelinlin1 @milflovers4 @claramelooo @loveshineslikethesky @kaymariesworld @marcelinaceciliarose @misskassycollins @greyella @theothersideofthescreen @whitelotus00 @agathaallalongg @psychickryptonitebouquet @sweetmidnights @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose

[fishfooddude]

I Hate New York.

Part 3 of the Would you still love me if I was a worm? series

MDNI 18+

The Bear Masterlist

Directory

Part 2

“So she’s keeping the baby… and you’re moving in together… in New York?” Natalie asked slowly, trying to make sense of the info dump Carmy had given everyone at The Bear during family service that evening. Carmy nodded; he’d had this stupid love-struck smile plastered on his face since you had your conversation a few weeks ago. 

“Yeah, she got this big promotion. I’m proud of her and wanna be with her and my kid, so we’re going to New York next week,” Carmy confirmed. Natalie wanted to be happy for you and Carmy, but she had this gut feeling that something would happen. She didn’t know how to explain it, but since becoming a mother herself, she could just sense when something would go down. 

“I’m just- I’m just worried, Carmy. You two are moving fast. I just want to ensure you’re sure you want this.” Carmy shook his head at Natalie’s words. Ever since the two of you had decided to keep the baby and move in together- in New York, everyone seemed to share the opinion of the two of you moving ‘too quickly.’

“Sugar, I’m happy. Like- really happy. I never thought I’d have this… I love Y/N, and I know we haven’t been together all that long, but this feels right.” Carmy explained as he leaned against the wall of Natalie’s kitchen. She sighed in reply, but before she could say anything, cries came from the baby monitor. “Saved by the cryin’ baby.”

Natalie laughed, “Well, since you’re so ready to be a Dad, why don’t you go check on your niece?”

~

“Okay, here we have oven-roasted sweet potatoes with sauteed corn and squash. Then there's a kale salad with pumpkin seeds and lentils-” 

“Carmy, I swear to god. You need to stop making me eat all these damn vegetables,” you whined as you slumped back on the couch. You heard him chuckle from the kitchen before joining you. Carmy squeezed your knee and stomped your feet as you pushed your hands through your hair. Carmy heartily laughed and leaned over to gently kiss your ever-growing baby bump. 

“My love, I want that baby to come out all happy and healthy. You’re doin’ all the work in growin’ the baby and keepin’ her all safe and cozy- feeding you everything that little girl needs to be all nice and healthy is all I can do.” Carmy cooed as he rubbed soft, slow circles against your bump and lovingly gazed up at you. You laughed and pushed his hair out of his face.

“Let me eat a freakin’ donut. And some hot chips.” you groaned, “I am a hard-workin’ lady, and I can’t have a damn glass of wine or go to the Coral Omakase dinner my boss is throwing… don’t make me eat more vegetables.” Carmy laughed at your explanation and rested his cheek on your bump. You glared at him and pouted, “Are you really going to deny your pregnant girlfriend a donut? …And maybe some Sour Patch Kids…” 

“I just want you and our baby girl to be healthy. All the books-”

“Carmy, I just want one donut.” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy dog expression. 

Carmy groaned and moved to bury his face in your cleavage. “She’s gonna be able to do that too, huh? That look? She’s gonna have me wrapped around her little finger.”

You laughed and glanced at the clock, “I gotta go, babe. Thank you for making me lunch- even if it’s 90% vegetables.” Carmy rolled his eyes as he helped you get up from the couch. “Only a couple more weeks until you don’t have to help me up from the couch.” 

“Well, in six weeks, I’ll be helpin’ ya with other stuff.” Carmy added before kissing your cheek, “Have a good day, and make sure you drink enough water.”

“You got it, Dr. Berzatto, my unofficial OBGYN.” you saluted and gave him a short side hug. Carmy laughed, and you walked out of the living room. He watched as you grabbed your bag from the floor and your lunch box from the counter. “I love you. See you tonight.” you smiled as you exited the apartment.

“Bye, baby,” Carmy called as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He rocked on his heels before walking into the kitchen to do the dishes. Carmy had a routine since the two of you moved to New York. He did what he could for The Bear, mostly ordering and menu ideas. It never felt like enough, but Carmy couldn’t work at a New York restaurant again with the baby on the way. He was anxious enough about his impending paternity to ever work in a New York kitchen again; the idea of it made his ulcers flair up.

Carmy spent his days reading books about pregnancy and parenting. He became a regular at the local bookshop and library, getting his hands on everything he could. Being a Dad was unknown territory to him, and he didn’t have many fond memories of his father. He remembered overhearing his mom and dad fighting before his dad left and inevitably got arrested. Uncle Jimmy and Mikey were the closet things he’d had to a father figure, and with Mikey being gone, Uncle Jimmy was the best he could, and there was still a certain level of difficulty for the emotional side of ‘father figuring’ that Jimmy couldn’t fulfill for Carmy. 

Carmy refused to let that cycle continue. Although he didn’t always understand his emotions, he was trying to do better for his daughter. That afternoon, after doing the laundry, he decided to tackle the last few things he needed to do in the nursery.

Soft pastel yellow walls were still bare, furniture needed to be assembled, and things needed to be organized. Walking into the nursery always brought a wave of peace over Carmy. Sweet stuffed animals sat on a shelf by the window with a collection of children's books and a basket of other baby needs. The box containing the crib leaned against the wall, along with a collection of paintings Carmy had done but hadn’t hung yet. In the corner was a vintage rocking chair the two of you had found at a flea market when you’d first moved. Carmy stood in the center of the room and couldn’t help but smile. 

~

“Hey, I’m home,” you called as you entered the apartment that evening. “Carm?” you called when you saw he wasn’t in the living room or kitchen. You walked down the hall and saw the nursery door was askew. “Carm?” you asked as you nudged the door open. 

“Oh my god.” you gasped as you saw the completed nursery before you, “You- Carmy.”

He looked over his shoulder and shot you a smile, “Hi, baby.” 

“You finished the nursery?” 

He nodded in response, “You like it, baby? I can change-”

“Carmy, I love it.” you cut him off as you fully entered the nursery. As you looked around the room, noticing all the small details, you’d absentmindedly started rubbing your bump. Carmy smiled and got up from the floor, placing his hands over yours after closing the small gap between you. You smiled up at him, “Thank you, Carmy.”

Carmy shrugged, “I just wanna be a good dad.”

“You are.” you smiled as you tip-toed up to kiss his nose. Carmy chuckled and shifted his hands from yours and around your sides to rest on your lower back. He laced his fingers together before pulling you as close as your bump allowed. 

“I just wanna be different.” Carmy sighed, “My Dad wasn’t around much… people haven’t been the most supportive of all this, but I wanna be good for her.” Carmy put his chin on your shoulder as he spoke. “I want her to feel safe and loved… wanted.”

You wrapped your arms around Carmy’s neck as he spoke, “She will, Carm. She will.”

~~

“You’re gorgeous.” Carmy complimented as he leaned against the bathroom doorframe. You rolled your eyes and continued curling your hair. He clicked his tongue and entered the bathroom, “Hey, you are.” 

You giggled as Carmy hopped onto the bathroom counter and leaned against the mirror with his arms folded across his chest as he lovingly watched you. “You’re just sayin’ that. I’m freakin’ huge.” 

“Yeah. With MY baby…” Carmy smirked as his eyes roamed your body. You felt a blush coming over your face as you shook your head. He chuckled and watched you finish your hair. As you unplugged your curling wand, he hopped down from the counter and came up behind you. You smiled at him in the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder and rubbed your bump through your oversized t-shirt. “Pregnant with my baby…” he muttered as he turned his head to nip at your neck. 

“Carmy…” you giggled, “I gotta go to work…”

“Be late…” he snickered as he trailed kisses up your neck to the pulse point below your ear. You bit your lip at the feeling of his teeth graze over the sensitive skin. “Let me take care of you… you’re so fuckin’ sensitive; I’ll make you cum fast.”

You leaned against Carmy’s body and let your head fall to the side, giving him more access to your neck. Carmy left a trail of gentle, wet kisses on your neck before turning you in his arms and kissing your lips. A whiny moan escaped your throat as Carmy’s hands traveled down your back. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth as his hands slid over your butt and hooked under your thighs. You squealed as Carmy lifted you onto the bathroom counter. He chuckled and broke the kiss, leaving you desperate for more, “You are incredible.” he smiled, running a thumb over his cheekbone.

Carmy looked at you as he moved his hands to your knees and slowly spread them as he lustfully gazed into your eyes, making you melt. His hands traveled up your thighs toward your hips. As he hooked his thumbs in the band of your sleep shorts, you felt a tingle surge through your body. You leaned back on your palms and lifted your hips, making it easier for Carmy to pull them down. After dropping the shorts on the floor, Carmy’s hands were back on your hips. He gently pulled you to the edge of the counter, giving him easier access to your exposed pussy. You felt your cheek get hot as he sank to his knees. 

“What baby? You nervous?” he chuckled as he stared up at you. You shook your head and bit your lip, “Then what is it?” he asked as he softly kissed your inner thigh. Your body jolted at the sudden sensation, making Carmy smirk against your skin before placing another kiss higher than the last. 

“I haven’t-” You paused your sentence with a soft whine as Carmy pushed your thighs farther apart and kissed higher. “I haven’t shaved in a while…” 

Carmy shook his head as his lips finally reached your center, “I don’t care, baby.” he spoke softly. Before you could protest, he kissed your lips, making you twitch. Carmy inhaled your scent as he slowly ran his tongue up the length of your core, flicking his tongue when he reached your clit. You moaned softly and struggled to look over your bump to watch as Carmy devoured your core.

~

“Carmy!” you gasped, sitting up suddenly in bed that evening. He shifted half-asleep, mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out. “Carmy!” you urged, smacking his shoulder, causing him to shoot up.

“Is the baby coming?” he scrambled to find the switch on his bedside table as he spoke. As light filled the room, he saw you protectively holding your bump. “Baby? What’s wrong?” he worried.

“Somethings wrong…”

[asexualsinner]

More Ghoul Headcanons: Kitchen Edition

Mountain

Hides his snacks on the top shelf to avoid the others stealing them

Has to use a recipe when cooking

Likes hearty meals like stews

Is an excellent shadow, will assist any of the other ghouls or Copia when asked.

Likes to just be in the kitchen

Is the embodiment of a pioneer woman mom

Loves to bake

CanNOT handle spice

Thinks cayenne is spicy

Favorite food is chili and drink is tea

Favorite snacks are fig newtons (yes he knows that they're made with wasps, he thinks it's funny)

Carries epi pens on him for the others

Rain

Is obsessed with making smoothies

Isn't allowed to use the stove after using water on a grease fire

Nearly burned half the abbey down

It's fine, he prefers salads anyway

Do not trust this ghoul with a knife he will find a way to hurt himself by accident

Is just a disaster when in the kitchen

Favorite food is smoked salmon thanks to Dew

Fancy ✨bitch✨ that puts mint and fruits in his water

Is the only ghoul to like Kale

Has a high spice tolerance

Takes forever to do the dishes bc he'll play in the water instead

Dew/Sodo

Favorite snacks are seaweed sheets and Takis

His taste buds went "weird" after his transition

He can't decide what he likes anymore, spicy? Fish? So he decided on both. Sometimes neither

Loves to smoke foods, begs Mountain for dried wood flavors for it

Dew learning to smoke properly was heavy trial and error, some things were edible some were very much not

His favorite changes weekly, but ATM it's smoked veggies and tofu

Is a big garbage ghoul, will throw everything together on a plate and eat it

Drinks coffee but doesn't like energy drinks

Has moderate spice tolerance

Will try anything once

Surprisingly one of the better cooks in the pack

Is lactose intolerant. No this doesn't stop him. Why would it?

Doesn't need a recipe, cooks from memory or guesswork

Has everything labeled and dated

Swiss

NO spice tolerance

Tries to compete with Dew, Cumulus and Rain and it never ends well

Loves comfort food!!! Give this ghoul Macncheese or pierogies and he's happy

Can follow boxed instructions or strict recipes but tries to "improve" them

Survives off of Redbull

Doesn't know the difference between a chef's knife and a paring knife

Thinks bc he's a multi ghoul he can pull pans out of the oven without mitts - has been treated for burns multiple times

Hates doing the dishes

His go to snacks are gummy worms or jerky

Will eat expired food thinking it'll be fine - it never is

Is a 3am fridge raider

Phantom/Aeon

Loves pancakes, absolute favorite food though is fettuccine Alfredo. Has to be fettuccine noodles, spaghetti isn't the same

Has texture issues with food

Absolutely hates ground meats, the texture is bad

Has a sweet tooth

Is a surprisingly decent cook, can manage without recipes

Baking is beyond him

Mistook baking soda for sugar once and Mountain banned him from baking ever again

Doesn't like eggs

Is allergic to peanut butter

Favorite snacks are Oreos or rice crackers

Enjoys cranberry juice

Can't have caffeine - gives him headaches

Aether

One of the better cooks in the pack

Is one of the only ones that can finish the dishes without distractions

Is allergic to citrus fruits

Has an app on his phone to scan packages for ingredients

Will practically drink soy sauce he loves it so much

Favorite snack is cucumbers and Italian dressing

Prefers strawberry jam over grape jelly

Doesn't like seafood

Favorite food is deer chili - shares this with Mountain

Wears gloves when cooking to avoid cross contamination

Cumulus

SPICE QUEEN

Has done every spice challenge possible, downs it like it's nothing

Like Swiss, can read box instructions but don't trust her past that

Has burnt frozen pizza before

Favorite snacks are tortillas and ghost pepper salsa

Eats jalapenos like candy

Needless to say she terrifies others

Favorite food is homemade ramen - she begs the others to make it for her

Package ramen isn't the same

Likes to do the dishes and help out in the kitchen

Does need a step stool however

Favorite drink is hazelnut coffee

Aurora

Junk food junkie

Favorite snacks are Skittles and kettle cooked potato chips

Prefers vitamin water over regular water

Likes to make quick easy meals like grilled cheese etc

Eats at the oddest times, breakfast is 2pm and dinner has been at 4am for her

Leaves her dishes in the sink like a gremlin

Has been banned from eating in the living room

Gets easily distracted while cooking

If she puts her mind to it, can make really elaborate dishes for the pack

However she makes a huge mess of the kitchen when doing so

Cirrus

Can identify spices/ingredients after tasting things once

Is also lactose intolerant, takes lactaid frequently

Loves Korean BBQ

Likes differing temperatures (cold food that's spicy, mints, etc)

Loves blackberries and celery

Is a very good cook, can make most things after trying them once

Her favorite drink is bubble tea

Has medium spice tolerance, like spicy flavor rather than the heat

Would rather dry and put away the dishes than wash them

Has a massive sweet tooth like phantom

[munchymuchy]

Don’t rib the kish

..Gggrrrruuoowww..

Here you are in a tiny bathroom stall sitting on the toilet but you weren’t using the bathroom you were gonna be used as a bathroom. Your front view was filled with the most famous ass in wrestling and that was rikishi. His ass blocked your whole view of everything, his stomach gurgling like a volcano made the situation scarier. The only thing you were hoping in that moment that he didn’t pull his thong down, thankfully he still had it on and between those fat cheeks of his.

He looks back at you with a smug look on his face. Seeing that you’re looking very nervous but also curios on what’s gonna happen. “Don’t worry little dude this gonna be breeze…just remember this is what happens if ya hide food that’s mine hgnn”. Yep, This whole situation your in came from you hiding his food from him as a rib. You started to open your mouth to yell weight but a gust of wind filled it instead.

Frrt!?

Broootttt!

FrrrbbbBbTtRtRt!!?

Brorott!

It sounded like his farts weren’t gonna stop and the sounded of you coughing really made him giggle. This was basically him doing his pre-match ritual to you as a “get back” to your rib, “man his farts are rank, what’d this dude eat” you thought to yourself as you covered your nose and turned your face. However his gargantuan ass was a mere inch from your face making it harder to get away from the blast zone.

“Whew..that feels good been holding these in for a while. Had a pretty big bean salad before you wanted to go and try and rib me. Gonna have plenty of fuel for a while” Rikishi said wiggle his ass side to side making small poots come out more.

“Fuck cough cough.. i won’t hide your food, I won’t rib you anymore Jesus” He continued to wiggle his booty and turned his head to look at you. “Uh uh uuh, face your punishment. No point in trying to get away from this ass”

BBbbrrbrbtbrbrtbtbtbtbtb??!

Sprtrtrbrtrbrbtbrtttt?!!

These farts he was releasing now sounded wet, veerrrryyy wet. It even took rikishi by surprise by their squelchy sound and the rotten smell. Kishi started to do a fanning motion near his butt and playful tease you. “Damn that stinks, smells like straight shit.” He could tell it look like you were gonna pass out so before you could do that he pushed his butt right into your face. This caused you to snap in a more alert state when your nose was attacked by old fart smell along with man musk.

“Hang in there bud, imma let you go in one second” with that being said he started to move his hips side to side for good ol stinkface. Your nose was deep in his clothed crack and your mouth was half way open to get a somewhat taste of his ass. It tasted salty almost like a cracker but also bitter like kale or something. It felt like forever until he got off, your head practically popped out of his ass in a cartoonish manner.

Rikishi grabbed your face to face him. You felt so tired and your whole body smelled awful inside and out. “God dayum you smell just like ass! But hey at least you know not to rib me anymore right?” He said squeezing your face tighter making you nod in agreement. “Good~….now get outta here all this farting made my bowels full unless you wanna stay for that too?” He said with a voice filled with anticipation. You quickly get up and rush out, you really didn’t wanna stay in there while he pooped since you already know what his farts smelt like. Fresh air was the only thing on your mind…..but you could feel yourselves wanting more after getting out…more of that chunky ass.

[1d1195]

Except Kael 😭

Pucking Rookie III

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: oops, more slow burn

Warnings: I have a feeling you will all be requesting a much FASTER update. Angst, fluff, shitty ex-boyfriend, the usual. Some violence which could b triggering. Please be kind to your mind.

Summary: Harry hates Kael. To be fair, most everyone hates him.

“Did y’bring your skates?” Harry asked. He was taking shots into the net for about an hour and a half at the time she had arrived. She was just a little over half an hour early to their practice. He paused to skate over to her. She was putting water bottles into place, clipboards, and other things that her uncle needed for a successful practice. Once everything was where it was supposed to be, she took her camera and took a practice shot of the ice behind Harry littered with pucks.

She frowned and looked away at her camera using it to divert his attention ever so slightly. Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “They’re in my car...”

Her unease wasn’t lost on Harry. “Do y’want t’go get them and I’ll help y’for a bit before practice?” He asked, leaning on his stick propped against the board.

She shook her head. “No thank you.”

He tilted his head at her. “C’mon, Rookie. You’re not going t’learn if y’don’t try.”

She sighed. “It’s not that... it’s just...” she looked up at him. “I’m still pretty embarrassed about it and I don’t want to do it here in front of everyone and everyone try to help...” She explained. “Like Uncle Charlie will give his two cents and honestly, I’ll be overwhelmed and I’m already nervous about it. The whole team watching would be even worse.”

Harry hadn’t really thought of that. But he wished he had because that meant that he could have a private lesson with her. One-on-one time with her was easily his new favorite thing. It happened a little more frequently since the night he followed her home. When he brought the used skates to her, she ordered pizza, and they played several rounds of Cribbage together. On a morning off from practice, he happened to be going by her place (of course going out of his way to be nearby) he did yoga with her before ordering breakfast to be delivered to her. Evenings where she worked at Louis’ he placed himself at his regular table and smiled at her as she came and went from kitchen to fluttering around the room waiting on everyone.

But on game days, whether they were home or away, she stayed her distance. He suspected she knew about his habits and his hookups. Which made him feel bad in a way he hadn’t worried about in ages. Harry was very comfortable with his sexuality. He liked having sex. He enjoyed making someone else come and yeah, he enjoyed that aspect for himself too.

But since he met the pretty photographer, he didn’t like it as much. Didn’t find it nearly as satisfying. Even though he wanted to.

Harry had a pond out behind his house. A pond that was very frozen in this chilly winter air. She hadn’t been to his place yet. Her pretty being all over his house seemed like a brilliant idea. It made him want her more.

Harry never wanted a girl the way he wanted her. For him it was always a one-night stand at their place, so he had the freedom to leave. They knew what they signed up for. But she invaded every little part of his mind. Thoughts of camera flashes and smiles. His picture on her fridge. The picture she texted him of herself that he saved as her contact photo. Her wearing Niall’s jersey. The cookies she made for her neighbors. Her rundown car. Her piece of shit ex.

“Would y’want t’come t’my place? I’ve got a pond out back.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Harry,” she admitted. Her voice was quiet, but she made direct eye contact with him. She always did, even if the conversation was difficult.

He frowned. “Why?” He asked.

“Because... you’re... you.”

“What’s that mean?” His eyebrows pulled forward as he tried to think through her logic before she said it.

“It means...” she looked at the ceiling like the answer would appear there. “I am not going to be seen with you at your place when you’ve never brought a girl home.”

He blinked. “How do y’know that?” She shrugged but busied herself with her camera taking pictures of the bench. She took Harry’s gloves from him and put them in a specific place. He felt utterly annoyed when he realized why she might have known. The frustration came over him before he could stop it. “Did your stupid ex tell you ‘bout m’reputation or something? Is that it? S’why y’don’t let me in fully? Y’think m’a piece of shit too?” He asked quietly. It sounded a little too accusing. He didn’t mean to. But it was unfair. Plus, he thought they were friends. The kind of friends like he was with Niall.

Because honestly, Harry didn’t think he could be good enough for her. Maybe he was projecting what he felt. She deserved a good boyfriend who would be able to devote all his time to her. She didn’t deserve someone that got a crummy five months to be in a relationship who had to worry allthe time about him because he had never had a steady girlfriend before.

She brought the camera from her face down to rest against her stomach on the strap around her neck. Once more, she looked him straight on. It was intoxicating. Brave. Beautiful, of course, always.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit, Harry Styles,” she said very clearly.

He blinked. “You don’t?”

“Why would I think that? Because you sleep with women who clearly want to sleep with you? You’re entitled to whatever you want with whomever you want as long as they fully consent, Harry. I don’t really give a shit. I just refuse to date a hockey player because an actual piece of shit cheated on me for who knows how long which I did not consent to. It’s obvious you’re charming, talented, intelligent, and very handsome,” she paused briefly, took a deep breath. “Any girl would be lucky to have you, Harry Styles. I just won’t be her.”

She brought her camera back to her face. She seemed unaffected by his stunned expression. He swallowed and it felt like a rock was in his throat. “That was an awful lot of compliments, Bunny,” he hummed. She continued taking pictures, but Harry saw the way her cheeks turned another shade of red under his gaze. He leaned closer towards her. “You think m’handsome?” he teased.

“A blind person would know you’re handsome, Harry. Don’t be a dick about it.”

“Charming?”

“Are you getting off on this or something? Is your ego not big enough?”

“I just didn’t know you thought that ‘bout me. I thought y’jus’ kinda tolerated me and m’overbearing presence.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why would I hate you?”

“No reason.”

But he answered too quickly. It was the reason that hung in the air over and over. She turned from her camera and caught his gaze again. “You’re nothing like Kael, Harry. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel that you were,” her voice was extremely gentle, like she was speaking to someone with a baby napping in the room. It made him feel all over. Every cell in his body vibrating with emotion.

The breath he released was more relieved than when he found out he was being drafted to the Chargers. Harry wanted her all over his house. Wanted her in his room and not even for sexual reasons. He just wanted to see her there after any game. Wanted her to wear his jersey. Teach her to skate better. Hang any of her photographs in his house like a museum paying tribute to her talent. More than that he wanted pictures of her in his house—so many pictures of her.

*

On nights when the team had curfew because of early morning practice or a game the next day, she did not of course. Harry broke curfew almost every single day after learning where she lived. He asked her to move in almost every time he followed her home ensuring she got home safely in her crappy car.

You shouldn’t break curfew. You’ll get a big fine. Marc and Michael keep an eye on my arrival.

It’s fine. I have the money.

Harry was territorial about her and especially her safety.

Look, I don’t want to be weird, but we’re friends... Evander said you... had plans tonight with someone...

Harry wanted to kill his teammate. Who? He tried for the funny remark so he wouldn’t lose his fucking mind at the thought of her thinking about his late night hook up.

You’re ridiculous.

Making sure you get home safe is more important than having an orgasm.

...

Sorry, FRIEND. Thought we could talk about orgasms.

R I D I C U L O U S

😇

Go puck yourself Harry.

God, you’re hilarious Rookie.

Good night, Harry. Thanks for worrying about me. It’s... actually kind of nice.

Yeah, of course. Good night, Rookie.

Harry didn’t have plans that night. Not unless pining over his coach’s niece in the privacy of his own bed was a plan.

*

Charlie was currently taking his anger out on the guys, which was extremely unfair because they had no idea it was because of her. She wished she could have been surprised. Instead, she quietly took pictures, feeling bad for their poor lungs. They were breathing hard and heavy as they struggled with the conditioning drill.

“Five minutes!” Charlie snarled.

They all collapsed on the ice in their spots. Players on the bench were slumped and moaning in pain and they were already on a rest. She glared at her uncle holding two six-pack water bottle carriers as she stepped onto the ice. She nearly slipped twice. Harry didn’t even move to help her, which meant they were in really tough shape.

“Thanks Sweetheart,” Asher heaved.

“Coach, is something wrong?” Niall asked, chugging his water. Off to the side of the rink Callie was throwing up into a trash can. A quiet ‘pussy’ came from an equally green-looking Lang. Only Niall could get away with asking because he was the nice one of the group. But even still, Uncle Charlie silenced him with a glare.

“He’s mad at me and taking it out on you,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry guys. Uncle Charlie, can you stop punishing all hockey players on my behalf?”

“Sweetheart, don’t,” he shook his head once paying no mind to the team that was half dead on the ice before him.

She sighed heavily. “You’re being mean, Uncle Charlie. It’s not their fault!”

“It’s the reputation they’ve given the game,” Coach Wheeler agreed.

“What reputation?”

“Uncle Charlie is mad he picked me up from my apartment. He’s not keen on where I live.”

“It looks like a meth lab.”

“My apartment is not a meth lab.”

“You have a drug dealer living on the first floor.”

“Michael is super nice! He watches my car and—”

“Jesus,” Niall murmured. “Sweetheart—”

“Don’t even bother, Horan. I tried everything. She is insistent, she doesn’t want a single hand out from anybody. Which is why you’re all paying the price. What kind of asshole makes someone as sweet as her—”

“Uncle Charlie, can we not air my relationship out in front of the whole team?”

“If we’re doing suicide sprints because of fucking Kael Crowe I want to be moved to the Lightning,” Callie groaned referring to the minor team affiliated with the Chargers. “What the hell, Coach!? Take it up with Crowe!”

Exhausted agreements resounded from the ground. “You all better treat women with respect. There is zero tolerance for it,” Coach Wheeler grumbled.

“Sweetheart, do something please,” Lang begged standing to where Callie was previously, vomiting promptly into the trash.

“Uncle Charlie, can you cut them a break? They didn’t cheat on me.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Asher moaned. “Permission to cross-check when we play him?”

“Permission granted,” Uncle Charlie shrugged.

“Jesus,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead. Harry was still breathing hard, but surprisingly didn’t say anything. She was certain he would have something to say about Kael or her stupid choice. Everyone seemed to.

“First one’ll be for you, Sweetheart. Second one’s for me,” Asher winked.

“Why’d he pick y’up?” Harry asked quietly. It was interesting, it was the first thing he said after all the time spent trying to remember how to breathe. It was like he already knew the answer. He also didn’t rat her out for knowing beforehand about where she lived. Although she suspected he knew the punishment would be far worse if Charlie found out that Harry knew where she lived and said nothing.

“Car wouldn’t start,” she shrugged handing him a bottle of water. “It’s a piece of shit, but it’s all I can afford,” she admitted quietly. The conversation was just for the two of them. “I’m on a budget,” she reminded him.

Harry liked how open she was with him. When she told him and Niall that she couldn’t skate and that she got nervous about it, it was vulnerable in a way he didn’t expect. He liked how she said she wouldn’t date him (even though it broke a piece of him) and still managed to compliment him. Each time she mentioned she wasn’t swimming in cash made him feel like she trusted him. He thought of her cold apartment, her used skates, and her broken down car.

It was a shame she wasn’t going to like him as much after her next comment.

“Coach, if I let her borrow one of my cars while hers is in the shop, can we call practice early? I’ll drive her to and from games. Won’t let her out of my sight until she’s safely in the building.”

“I’m not convinced it’s a safe building.”

“Jesus Christ, Sweetheart, where are you living?” Niall sighed.

When Coach said the name of the building and the street just into the bad side of town, everyone moaned again. She shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s the right price and no one bothers me. I use you all as a threat.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Callie groaned. “Coach, we’ll take shifts, anything. Make it stop,” he begged. Lang returned from throwing up in the trash can and took water from her.

“I don’t need shifts of you guys watching me,” she rolled her eyes. “No one bugs me, they know I work for the team and that I could have twenty scary hockey players there in a matter of minutes.”

Harry smirked. It was obvious he liked the sound of that. “Coach?” Harry prompted.

“Harry, I’m not taking your car, for God’s sake!”

“Oh you don’t have a choice, Sweetheart,” he snorted.

“Uncle Charlie! You’re not getting one of your players to babysit me!”

“Then you’re responsible for their lungs bursting.”

She pouted, glared at her uncle, and marched off the ice. Snagging her camera from the bench as she did. It was childish, petty, and made her look like an idiot, but she was too mad to care. Harry sighed. “Coach, she’s a grown woman... y’could have at least asked her if she was okay with that...” Harry reminded him. Charlie leveled Harry with a stare.

“She’s the best person I know,” Charlie explained. “That piece of shit Crowe never deserved her. It kills the whole family that she doesn’t see her own worth. We watched her take care of him and put her life on hold for him. She doesn’t let people take care of her. Maybe because she doesn’t know how,” he shrugged. “So if she needs tough love to do that, then so be it.”

Harry followed her off the ice. He walked slightly awkwardly on his skates but found her outside one of the offices sitting on a bench, putting her items away in her bag. “You’re not giving me your car,” she grumbled.

“Rookie,” he sighed.

“I don’t need you saving me! This is just like when you yelled at Kael.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “We’re friends, right?”

She glanced at him. “...yes,” she said tentatively.

“Y’know how y’always worry ‘bout me drinking water? Making sure I eat dinner? Texting me t’make sure I get home after following y’home?” She didn’t look at him and fiddled with the laces of her boots. “Y’can ignore me all you want, but s’what friends do. We care ‘bout you and want t’do all the nice things y’do for us.”

It looked like she was piecing together what he was saying. But not fully wanting to accept it. “You’re really going to let me borrow your car?”

He smiled.

“I guess I could... have a skating lesson... assuming your car is at your house?”

Somehow, he managed to smile wider. “Yeah, Rookie? Great... I’ll go change and tell Coach. Be out in a minute.”

“Don’t be weird about it, Harry. I don’t want anyone to think you’re my favorite. Because you’re not.”

He chuckled. “Sure thing, Rookie.”

*

Harry hurried to her side of the car and opened the door when they arrived at his house. She grabbed her stuff from the back—it was everything she had to pull out of her car and toss into her uncle’s when he picked her up. Harry grabbed his duffle bag, as well as a small bag of groceries of items she needed to make the hot chocolate she promised after the skating lesson. “M’gonna put this stuff away and sharpen your skates,” he said holding the pair by the laces tied together as he opened the door. “Here’s the key if y’want t’throw your stuff in the car,” he grabbed it off the hook near the doorway and then headed further into the house. With the key in hand, she headed back outside and unlocked an extravagant car she would never be able to afford. Sighing, she put her stuff in the trunk, locked it, and headed back toward the equally luxurious house.

To be fair, it wasn’t a mansion. It was a nice home. It was clear Harry took great care of it—or paid people to take great care of it. Following the sound of something scraping against the blade, she found Harry in his kitchen, sitting on a breakfast bar stool at the island. The kitchen was stunning. Marble countertops, white backsplash, black hanging light fixtures, white cabinets with black hardware. There were green curtains in the window. The appliances were all black. It belonged in a magazine. It was practically pristine.

The only thing she found interesting was Harry’s sink was filled with dishes. The dishwasher looked clean, it was open and completely full as well. How many dishes did a person living by themself have? She spun the key on her finger as she approached him, setting it on the counter. “When’s your birthday?” He asked randomly.

“February eleventh,” she blinked.

Harry smiled that really beautiful way of his. The one that made the dips in his cheeks deepen. His eyes seemed brighter. “S’near mine.”

“I know.”

“You keeping track of me Rookie?” He was full-on beaming.

“No, but I added everyone’s birthday to my calendar after Ray’s. Figured I would make treats if I had the time,” she explained. “I remembered yours because it’s in February like mine.”

“Can’t y’jus’ let me believe y’like me?”

She ignored him. “How do you do it?” She asked pointing to the skate.

He held the little tool out to her—a little rectangle with a space for the blade to slide between. “They don’t sell skates unsharpened, even used ones. So they’re already pretty good, but I feel better doing it myself. I wouldn’t want t’put y’on skates I haven’t ensured were good to go,” he explained and waited until she lined up the blade with the tool. “Jus’ stroke the blade in the same direction a few times. You’ll feel a little resistance. S’how y’know it’s working. The duller the blade the more resistance you’ll feel.”

“Like this?” She asked making sure she didn’t mess up her new skates.

“Yup, that’s good,” he monitored the motion.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly.

“Course, Rookie. S’what friends are for,” he shrugged simply.

But it wasn’t that simple. Kael would never sharpen her skates for her. Wouldn’t even offer. It’s why she basically stopped skating—didn’t bother to continue because he didn’t care. He never asked if he could help teach her. There was no way he would willingly give his car to her either or offer to follow her home from a game. Most of the time they were at the same arena he didn’t go home with her. In case he wanted to go out with friends.

She felt the emotion building in her throat because she knew Harry had plenty of options. But she didn’t want to be an option. It wasn’t Harry’s fault. Honestly, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just wasn’t... the right time. She was too broken and fucked from her ex. Harry was too talented and charming to deal with a steady girlfriend and he shouldn’t have to. He was young, handsome, and had ample time in his career and life to have fun before he settled down.

“Ready?” He asked interrupting her sad thoughts. Harry was sweet—really sweet. The kind of sweet she always wanted Kael to be. She shook her head to rid herself of thoughts of how nice it would be to be Harry Styles’ girlfriend. It wasn’t going to happen. He replaced the guards on her blades. “Pond’s out back,” he told her gesturing to the back slider that led to a porch.

“Your house is beautiful,” she told him.

“Thanks, Rookie, love,” he smiled. “Mum was insistent it be my first investment,” he explained.

“Smart lady.”

“The very best,” he affirmed.

Nope, she wasn’t going to fall for a man who was kind and adored his mother. Not one bit.

The back deck overlooked a decent sized yard, but it was the pond that was by far the feature of it. She could picture beautiful sunsets, and she wished she brought her camera with her. There was a layer of light snow on the ground, the bare branches. It was like a Christmas movie scene. It left her a little breathless and Harry paid no attention to it. Totally used to the beauty of his own yard.

“Y’okay?” He asked over his shoulder. He noticed her pause as he continued walking toward the little pond. Harry kicked his boots off and put on his skates while sitting on a little wooden bench. They weren’t the pair he wore at the rink. These looked a little more worn in and scuffed. Well-loved, was the best description. He laced them quickly and expertly. It must have been second nature to him. With the guards still on his blades, he stood in front of her. “Put these on,” he handed her a pair of socks from his sweatshirt pocket. They weren’t the ones he bought her, which meant they were either his or another set he had bought her just for the occasion.

Nope. Not falling in love with him. Not at all.

“Your backyard is beautiful,” she said. “I wish I had my camera.” She untied her boots and stuck her feet in the skates. Almost immediately, Harry carefully hoisted her left skate between his thighs. He held her foot in her new-used skate (with the guard still in place) and tied the laces tightly.

“I can grab it after the lesson,” he offered and worked on the laces. “S’that feel good?” He asked. “Or is it too tight?”

“No, I don’t like my ankle to move.”

He chuckled. “Y’want it t’move a little, Rookie.”

She shrugged while he tied the other skate. Once done, he pulled the guards off and held his hands out for her to take. She took a deep breath and tried not to think about how large Harry’s hands were and wrapped around hers so easily. They were warm and comforting. He bent and took his own skate guards off. “I know y’can skate a little, so I don’t want t’push you,” he headed for the ice. “Jus’ do what feels comfortable.”

She barely skated at the rink. Skating on a pond seemed like a bad idea. Sitting on that little bench watching Harry? Maybe taking pictures of him as she did? That seemed like a good idea. Comfortable, to his point. “Is the pond deep?” She asked tentatively.

He frowned and waited at the very edge as she stood just off the ice. “Bunny,” he hummed gently. “I would never let y’get hurt, so no,” he promised. “S’not deep. S’very safe,” he assured her. “C’mon,” he held his hand out. Tentatively, she took it. Fortunately, she was used to him holding her elbow while she walked or skated around.

“Harry, I really don’t want to embarrass myself,” she warned.

“M’not going t’make fun of you, Bunny,” his voice didn’t have any teasing in it. Harry was dressed in a pair of black pants and a gray sweatshirt. He looked cozy and pretty as always. His voice was too soft and made her feel safe. Which wasn’t a bad thing except for her heart. “Jus’... take little steps. M’not going t’let you fall.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that it was too late for that.

She listened, taking small steps. Harry skated backwards while facing her, holding his hands out for comfort but not holding onto her. “You’re leaning too far forward, Rookie. Y’want t’keep your weight over your skates while y’step. S’going t’change a bit when y'take your steps but s’what you’re trying to maintain,” he explained. He watched her feet as she adjusted to what he said. “Don’t stare at your feet,” he offered kindly. “I know s’hard, but it’s tough on the balance,” they glided silently for a few minutes. “Y’okay,?” he asked glancing at her face. She nodded. He smiled gently. “Okay,” he took hold of her hands again and tugged her gently. “When y’stop, just tilt your foot inward just a little,” he used his own feet to demonstrate. “You’re doing great, Rookie,” he promised. “Feel easier on the figure skates?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s definitely easier to balance.”

He grinned, excitement covering his features and all she had done was take fifteen little steps or so. “Okay let’s keep going. We’re jus’ going t’focus on keeping y’comfortable today. Getting used to the balance and stopping,” he continued facing her and skating backwards as he pulled her.

“How do you skate backwards?” She asked.

“You gotta walk before y’can run, Rookie,” he chuckled knowingly. She rolled her eyes.

“I meant you, Harry.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been skating m’whole life.”

“Since you were three and before you could walk?” Most every hockey player she knew had the same story. Skating was more important than walking. It was romantic in a way. A first love of sorts. Harry seemed no different in that respect.

He nodded with a shy grin. “Something like that.”

“You’re very graceful.”

“You’re so forthcoming with the compliments today, Bunny. S’nice,” he pulled her toward him. She wasn’t really skating since Harry was just guiding her, but it felt nice to be on the ice without fear of making a fool of herself. “Try stopping.”

“I’m supposed to be skating not stopping Harry.” He smirked and looked at her pointedly. So she executed her little stop and Harry’s smile brightened.

“Lovely, Rookie. Do you want t’try on your own?”

“Sure,” she sighed feeling defeated before starting but it was the only way she’d get better. Harry let go of her hands but stayed the same distance from her (which was no more than five inches away). She took little steps moving at a glacial pace. She really wondered how she could have been using the wrong skates for so long. It felt so much safer and easier to be on the figure skates than it ever had been on hockey skates.

“You’re doing great, Rookie,” he assured her. She felt embarrassed because she was in her late twenties and Harry was treating her like a child. Not his doing, though. It was in her head it felt that way.

But they skated for a while quietly, just listening to the gentle cutting of the blades on the ice. Harry put his hands out just in front of him as a gentle reminder he was there, letting her have the comfort of grabbing him if she needed.

Naturally, her toe hit a divot in the ice at that moment which made her lose her footing. Harry snagged around her waist quickly to keep her upright. “Whoops,” the entire front of his body was pressed to hers. “Y’okay?” She nodded, not wanting to think about how nice Harry was and how warm his body felt. She pulled away as quickly as she could once she regained her footing. “The ice doesn’t get resurfaced like the rink,” he admitted shyly. Like it was his fault.

“You don’t own a Zamboni?” She gaped. “I can’t believe it!”

He chuckled, moving away from her slightly. She couldn’t believe how much colder it felt even though he only held her for no more than forty seconds. “Do y’want t’keep skating?” He asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. Because honestly? She didn’t want to leave just yet.

*

Eventually, they got off his little ice rink. She didn’t fall thanks to Harry catching her two more times around the waist. Each time she sent an electric current right through her heart. He was gentle, kind, and encouraging. Imagining him doing the same thing with his baby niece made her ovaries ache so much she had to think about anything else.

“Did you have a dinner party?” she asked pointing to his sink.

“No,” he sighed. “I jus’ hate dishes,” he shook his head.

“Do you want—”

“Don’t you dare,” he glared at her and headed down the hall toward another room. She smiled and shook her head.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make hot chocolate with a mess in the sink,” she called.

“Don’t make it then!” He sounded far away. She couldn’t believe he stayed at her tiny little apartment when she could hardly hear him from a few rooms away. “We can go out t’get some or we y’can jus’ stuff from the dishwasher, Rookie. But don’t touch the sink!”

She rolled her eyes and shifted, through the clean dishes, pulling a sauce pan from it. Harry returned with a bag. “Can you get me chocolate chips, sugar, and cocoa powder? I don’t want to dig through your cabinets—what’s that?”

He looked at her pointedly. “Y’can go through the cabinets,” he shrugged. But it was starting to feel a little too domestic. Now they were at Harry’s house which meant she was done for. At least when they were at her place, she wasn’t subject to the overwhelmingly intoxicating scent of Harry. He found the ingredients and placed them on the counter. “Open it,” he shrugged.

It was a large bag from the pro shop at the arena. She peered in and then looked up at him. “Harry.”

“S’not a big deal, Rookie. Don’t make it a big deal,” he suggested. “What do y’need for whipped cream?”

Inside the bag were jerseys. Langford, Calloway, Asher, and Styles. Her heart felt too warm. Her eyes stung a bit over the thoughtfulness yet again. Skates, jerseys, socks. Harry was too sweet. He wasn’t fighting fair. “Sugar, vanilla, and heavy whipping cream...” she mumbled. Swallowing the emotion she felt, she opted for a joke. “No Horan?”

“He already got his turn,” he grumbled slightly bitter.

She looked at the jersey brushing her fingers over his last name. “It’s too much, Harry.”

“I get a discount,” he shrugged. “On behalf of the team, throw out all your Glacier Wolves stuff,” he grabbed the next set of ingredients and eyed her from across the kitchen island. “What?”

“Even the sweatshirt I’ve worn so much I’ve got it to maximum comfort?” He pressed his mouth into a line and stared at her pointedly. “Alright I’ll throw it out, you’re so bossy.”

He smirked and turned to the stove, turning the dial to light the burner. “Okay Rookie, time for my lesson. Show me how t’make hot chocolate.”

*

It felt like Harry was becoming her very best friend, which scared her. Kael took up so much of her life it left her very little room for friends. The friends she did have... ended up not liking her and talking behind her back. “Hey Rookie,” Harry smiled entering the locker room to drop his stuff for game day photos. “Ugh,” he sighed looking at her jersey and the smile melted.

“Hi, Harry,” she waved with an impish grin.

“Hi Sweetheart,” Asher greeted. “You look beautiful today,” he cooed.

“Shut the fuck up, Asher!” Harry yelled from the other side of the door. Asher winked at her and headed inside the locker room.

“He’s so jealous,” Callie shook his head. She smiled, shook her head, but she could feel her cheeks heating up with color. “Nice jersey, Sweetheart!” He shouted, no doubt enjoying his number on her this time. Only she knew that Callie would be more extra about it than Niall ever could be.

“You can shut the fuck up too,” Harry growled from near the door.

“He must not think I look beautiful,” she laughed quietly.

“Oh Jesus,” Lang snorted filing inside.

“What did she say?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Lang chuckled.

“Those are fighting words, Sweetheart,” Niall chuckled heading in after his team.

After the game day pictures were posted to the appropriate social media outlets, she headed inside the arena. She filed down to her spot near the other media. She smiled and waved to people she had been chatting with regularly. They all greeted her as if she was a real media presence and not just the coach’s niece with a camera.

She took a few pictures of the empty ice adding it to her mental portfolio of this sports series she was looking to do. It was peaceful for a moment, the images forming in sequence, her ideal lighting. The way everything would come together to tell a story. It was something she was really excited about—

“Hey, baby.”

She didn’t turn immediately. Surely, she misheard. Her body felt a wave of anxiety run over it. She didn’t flinch, didn’t turn. For several seconds, she focused on her breathing and nothing else. A minute. She just needed a minute to collect herself. Turning slowly, she smiled politely.

“Kael.” His feet were on top of the seat in front of him. Some of his teammates were milling behind, a few rows back of him. He looked relaxed and uncaring of how fucked up it was that he was there. Coming up to her while she was alone. “You guys are in town early,” she stated.

He nodded, standing up and heading to her. She busied herself by inspecting her pictures making sure they looked okay on the screen. Her hands were shaking. Not because she was worried about what Kael might do but because she was angry. Kael was her least favorite person and he made her uneasy because of all the fucked-up things she let him do to her. “Nice jersey. Sleeping with Calloway?” He asked, sweeping his hand across the top of her back. It made her want to crawl out of her skin.

“No,” she clenched her jaw. She wanted to leave as little to the conversation as possible. But she couldn’t. Because Kael didn’t own any part of her privacy anymore. Part of her wished she was sleeping with Callie if only to rub it in his face. But she couldn’t pretend that any more than she could say she didn’t have a crush on Harry. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Right, sure...” he smiled slowly. “You look beautiful, baby. Even in an ugly jersey.”

She loved this jersey so much. The only jersey she would love to wear more than Callie’s, was Harry’s. Not that she would ever say that. “What can I say, orange and blue just wasn’t my color,” she shrugged. “And Kael? Stop calling me baby.”

He put his hands up. “Just wanted to say hi... I’m in the area today... tomorrow and the following day, too... thought you might want to catch up.”

“Sweetheart!” Uncle Charlie called.

She turned looking at her uncle, Ray, Callie, Niall, and a couple of the younger players staring at her from across the ice. “That’s my cue,” she said making her way back the way she came.

“You work for the team?” He asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yup.”

“Good old Uncle Charlie helped you out?” He wondered.

“Uh-huh.”

She walked around the edge of the ice noting every pair of eyes of The Chargers following her.

Kael followed her as well. “Do you want to get dinner, love?” He asked.

“I have to work tonight; thanks though,” she said over her shoulder wishing she could have cut across the ice. It would have been nice if she could have shown him that she could skate a bit now.

No thanks to him.

“What about tomorrow after the game?”

“Working again,” she shrugged.

“Lunch?”

“Busy.”

She was much closer now to her uncle and the guys. Their gazes felt warm on her, so she looked at her camera as she walked.

“C’mon, baby. You’re the one that wanted to talk.”

“To get my stuff back, Kael,” she sighed without looking at him. God she wanted to be done with the conversation. Why couldn’t he take a hint?

“Technically it’s my stuff.”

Ugh. That would do it. She spun on her heel. He was right behind her so now they stood only inches apart. This was the guy she seriously saw herself marrying because they had been together for so long. She was going to have children with him. So many days and nights spent at his arena wearing ugly orange and blue. Taking care of his every need and not asking for anything in return. All the other things that she didn’t even want to think about let alone speak into existence. Putting her life on hold for him because he deemed himself more important than her hobby. Now, he was going to continue holding her stuff hostage? Just for some weird power trip?

No. Not anymore.

“I don’t want anything you bought me, Kael,” her tone was biting. Teeth clenched. “I want my stuff back.”

He snorted. “Then go to lunch with me, baby,” he grinned sweetly.

“Hey Kael, we need her for pre-game pictures,” Charlie came up behind her putting a hand on her shoulder gently. She shrugged it off, she was independent, goddammit. She didn’t need her uncle or a hockey team to defend her in front of Kael. He already thought she was weak. She didn’t need to prove him right.

“I am not negotiating for my stuff,” she told him, her tone still angry.

“Sweetheart,” Charlie grabbed her shoulder a little more securely.

“Hey Charlie, sorry. Just trying to catch up with our girl here,” he smiled charmingly at her uncle. She rolled her eyes and marched around Charlie, toward the tunnel back to the locker room. “Tell Callie he’s a lucky man, baby,” he shouted.

“Fuck you Crowe!” Callie was immediately moving toward him as she pushed past. “You’re a piece of trash!”

“Hey!” Ray yelled. The other players yanked him back and away from one person who could fuck up the simplest of things with just a couple words. Kael smiled walking back the way he came. Like he didn’t cause a scene or anything.

*

Callie got three penalties in the first period. Lang had to talk him down because he wanted four. But that would have been bad for the team, and they weren’t even playing Kael.

Harry was fuming, bouncing his knee as he sat seated in front of his locker. “I hate that stupid prick,” Callie growled. She was seated on a chair outside the locker room looking at her camera. It didn’t seem to bother her much that Kael was around. Or maybe she was just continuing to be brave. It was kind of hot the way she stood up to him outside the ice rink. He wished he had known. He would have loved to have punched Kael. He was lucky Harry didn’t hear until he heard Callie yelling.

They lost the game one to nothing. No one blamed Callie because the goal wasn’t even during his penalties nor when he was on the ice. “I can’t wait for the game tomorrow,” Asher sighed. “Still allowed to cross-check?” He asked looking at Charlie and Ray.

Ray shrugged. “If you must.”

Harry wanted to strangle him. The moment he heard one of the younger players say Crowe’s name, he wanted to run to her, shove her behind him, and punch his stupid fucking face. “Harry?” Niall asked quietly from beside him.

“Yeah?”

“You good?” He asked.

“Yup,” he nodded.

“Look, he’s just trying to get a rise out of her,” he explained. “Maybe you.”

“He doesn’t know I like her,” he mumbled.

“You do like her?” Niall chuckled. “I knew it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Everyone decent?” Her voice called.

Harry perked up hearing the voice of the sweet girl he was falling for rapidly by the second. She entered holding a hand over her eyes. “You’re good, Sweetheart,” Lang assured her.

“Bummer,” she muttered dropping her hand. Harry smirked despite how mad he was as a quiet chuckle sounded throughout the room.

“Gross, Sweetheart. They’re my players,” Charlie shook his head.

“Well, you and I have the same taste in men then, Uncle Charlie.”

Another round of laughter. “You okay?” Charlie asked leaning against his office door.

Harry was staring, Niall beside him staring as well. The whole team was watching to be fair. “Yeah... he was just... hovering, signing autographs and stuff...”

“Fuck him,” Callie growled. She glanced at him briefly. Harry wanted to kill him for getting her attention today in the form of his jersey on her. It shouldn’t have been such a concern for Harry, but it was. He liked her so much and it was so unfair he wasn’t good enough for her. At least he was the one that bought the jersey for her.

“It’s not a big deal,” she shrugged looking anywhere but someone else’s eyes.

But it was a big deal, Harry was fuming in his seat. His leg still bouncing.

“What did he say to you?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head.

“Sweetheart, if—”

“Can someone walk me to my car?” She asked.

“I can!” Callie chirped.

She frowned. “Callie, really, any other day. But... with the jersey—”

He frowned. “I hate Crowe.”

“Join the club,” Charlie said.

She sighed. “I’ll walk you out,” Harry quickly tossed a sweatshirt over his practice shirt and a pair of sweats on over his compression shorts.

They didn’t speak as they walked to her car. Harry’s car. She put her belongings in the back seat. “I took the night off. I’m pretty exhausted,” she told Harry leaning against the driver door. “So you don’t have to worry about me.”

But he did. Because it seemed to be the only thing he did. “Oh. S’nice,” he murmured. “Are you… do y’want company or are y’jus’ going t’bed?”

“Probably just bed,” her voice was tired. “Maybe Marc and I will watch a game so he can study.”

At least there was one man in her life he didn’t have to be jealous of. “Well, we have an early curfew anyway,” he mumbled. “Do y’want me t’follow y’home?”

She shook her head. “No. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Rookie,” he gave her arm a squeeze. “Let me know when you’re home,” Harry ushered her into the car and let her go on her way. He headed back for the arena feeling fairly defeated. But at least she was safe.

*

Eliana lived close by and expected very little of Harry. She was a nice person. She was a nurse at a local hospital and had hours that lined up with Harry’s every so often.

Harry was a fucking mess.

“Are you okay?” She asked

No. He wasn’t. He wanted the pretty photographer. Wanted to know she was home safe. Wanted to go to her apartment and wake Michael and Marc up and murder them for not protecting her when they said they would. Even though she was in all reality probably fine.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “It’s not you.”

She smirked. “I didn’t think so, Harry. I hope you’re alright.”

 “Jury’s out.”

She rolled her eyes, pulled the covers up to her neck. “Just lock behind you please.”

Harry tried calling her. Not even caring how ridiculous he was. He was past the point of caring. He couldn’t even sleep with someone else, and he’d done nothing more than hold her hands or her elbow. He refrained from cuddling her at their sleepover beyond feeling the heat of her body while she slept.

Harry had called her every hour since he walked her to her car. Hopefully she was just asleep. She did say she was exhausted. Maybe if he drove by and saw her car, he would feel better?

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. He couldn’t follow her like that. It was different that first time. He never intended to follow her into her apartment building. His rationality left him because he was so worried about her. Now that he was okay with her living arrangement, he didn’t want to look insane.

A drink. One drink and he would be home by curfew. Something to take the edge off. Make him forget about his worry.

Harry parked in the first available spot at The Locker Room. He waved to the regulars, said hello to some fans, and headed to his usual table. Force of habit. “Hey Harry,” Louis smiled bringing Harry a drink. “Didn’t know you were coming in; she figured you had curfew.”

He tilted his head at Louis, his thumb pausing on her name in his message threads once more. “Hmm?” He hummed. “She’s... here?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Louis pouted slightly. “She’s been here since five,” he hummed like it was obvious.

“Hey, Louis!” She called from the other room. Her voice hitching slightly in alarm.

Why would she lie? Louis raced to the other room. Harry followed quickly because the apprehension in her voice was enough to bring all his worry immediately back to the forefront of his mind and he expected the worst truly. Because she didn’t seem to be very scared of anything. She lived in a seedy part of town and worked with violent hockey players.

So what could be in the main room that would make her sound so worried? A drunk guy who was getting into it with another person? A handsy guy who thought she was pretty? A girl who didn’t like her decision to cut her off?

None of his thoughts had considered it might be Kael. Who had her wrist pinned to the top of a table, his hand wrapped tightly around it keeping her in place.

Harry’s vision turned red.

She gaped meeting Harry’s gaze. “Oh fuck,” she whispered.

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[wet-and-wedgied]

Spencer’s Spicy Salad

Spencer rolled up from underneath the customer’s truck as the clock struck the time for lunch. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaving behind a bit of grease and jumped up to his feet. Spencer was a tall young mechanic who had been left in charge of his boss’s shop for the day. A fit man college student with short curly brown hair, strong arms and defined chest he cut an figure even in his simple mechanic’s get up: a tight white shirt and a pair of well worn grey overalls.

He grabbed a rag and wiped off the excess grease off his hands as he popped into the break room, a tiny little alcove with a water cooler and mini-fridge, putting out the salad he had grabbed earlier before work. It was some kind of spicy Mexican salad he had seen on his feed at some local place and had decided to try it out. It was supposed to be really good for the digestive track and a delicious meal for those looking to stay fit.

Spencer propped his leg up and chowed down. It was way spicer than he had thought, the kale in it practically soaked in some creamy dressing that while delicious kept burning his tongue. Spencer kept refilling his water bottle and chugging the whole thing in order to cool off. Still it was delicious. And filling too. Spencer patted his full stomach satisfied as he tossed the bowl and finished up his lunch and went back to working in the truck.

Spencer was finishing tightened the last bolts in place underneath the truck and he felt his stomach flip. Still on the board on his back, he lifted a leg and ripped a hot fat fart.

PPOPPPFFFBBBRT!

Spencer laughed, patting his stomach as some pressure was lessened, and blew out two more farts

PPFFFERRT

BBRRTFFRRRT!

Spencer slid out from underneath the truck and was greeted with the rancid smell of his own ass. “Damn, I reck. But I really needed that!”

“Well I hope you got it all out of your system then,” said Spencer’s boss. Spencer looked up to see his boss, a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair, holding his nose and fanning the air.

“sir!” Spencer flushed, scrambling to his feet. “My bad. Sorry, I thought you said you’d be gone today.”

“I am, I am, just checking in is all. Making sure you haven’t burned down the place.”

“no sir—” PPfffpppertRRT!

Spencer covered his rear as another fart ripped out him. His stomachgurgled and flipped again. His boss increased his fanning. “Geez. Light a match in here and you just might. What did you eat, son?”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond but was waved off.

“Nevermind, is the truck ready, they should be coming to pick it up soon. I want to make sure you got this on your own, eh.” His boss smirk and tapped Spencer in the stomach and Spencer tense feeling his guts bubble and gurgle protest.

“no problem sir,” Spencer said.

“perfect, Ah look here they come now.”

Spencer turned to see a handsome man a few years older than Spencer with a bright smile and two twin teen boys glued to their phones coming in. “Hey, everything ready? We’re looking forward to going camping!” The truck owner said with high optimism. The two boys each rolled their eyes.

“You’re excited Uncle Daniel,” one of the boys groaned.

“Like a dork,” said the other. “You like being alone in the woods cause it doesn’t sound as bad as being alone in the real world.” The twins high-fived, neither looking up from their phones.

The truck owner— Daniel’s smile flattened but he push onward. “You two really don’t let up, huh. Sorry, is the truck ready? Then we’ll get out of your hair.”

“No worries,” Spencer’s boss said, “Spencer here will take care of you.”

“Right!” Spencer said offering a hand to Daniel. “Spencer. Sorry, you already know that. Um, yes, your truck is ready.”

“Wonderful that is great news.” Daniel took Spencer’s hand, giving it a firm handshake as their eyes.

“I really like camping,” Spencer blurted out. Daniel’s lips curled into a smooth grin.

“really? We’ll maybe we—“

“Ew, Uncle Daniel stop flirting with the mechanic dude,” whined one of the teens.

Spencer felt a flush on his cheeks— only for it to be replaced with a far more intense feeling in his stomach. Any butterflies he felt seemed to be carrying megaton warheads, dropping them in his intestines. An ominous gurgle went through him and Spencer clutched his abdomen. The pressure on his guts was intense. Fuuuck… he needed to shit.

“you okay?” Asked Daniel.

“yeah, yeah,” Spencer said hastily. “I just need you sign some paperwork and I’ll go grab your keys. Spencer hurried out of the garage and into the office, a series of small hot farts squeaking out of him as he went. He hurried over to the papers and

PPPPPFFFFBBBFFRRRTPPPBBBBT!!!

Spencer gasped as a massive fart erupted out of him as he bent to grab the clipboard sign the paperwork on it. He held his stomach. Fuck that spicy salad was messing with his guts. His stomach broiled like an Icelandic mud volcano. Spencer clinched his cheeks. Ahhh. Don’t think about mud volcanoes. He looked to the board where they hung the keys and then to down the hall where the bathroom was. He desperately wanted ti make a mad dash to the bathroom and absolutely destroy the toilet. But his boss and that hit uncle were waiting for him. He groaned. Shit. He could hold it for a few minutes. He grabbed the keys and speed walked back the garage. As he step through the door the water cookie gurgled and suddenly the pressure seemed to shift from. His rear, the pressure subsiding on his packed colon, but only to fall squarely onto his bladder. Spencer tensed as he paused in the garage, pressing his legs together as a lake of hot piss sloshed in his bladder, all those bottles of water lapping against the dam inside him. A dam that desperately wanted to burst.

“Spencer, you okay?”

Spencer looked up to see his boss and Daniel both looking at him. He gave them both a nervous smile.

“I-I’m fine.” Spencer said, and straightened. He forced his legs apart and focused on not pissing himself. He could hold it. He could hold it. He could hold it. Spencer repeated the thought in his head as he half walked half shuffle over to Daniel. “Here you go— Ahh!” A leak squirted out of Spencer, dribbles of hot piss splashing into his soft boxers. Spencer bent, his knees pressed together. He held back a whimper as he bounced from foot to foot, his bladder aching. Oh man he didn’t have drunk so much water.

“Are you sure you are okay dude?” Daniel asked.

“He looks like he is doing the pee dance,” snickered one of Daniel’s nephews.

Another leak squirted out of Spencer at the sound of the word ‘pee’. “Ahh!” Spencer cried out as he gave in and wedged his hand between his crotch, desperately holding onto his crotch. Spencer bit his lip and held the truck key’s for Daniel to take, but he was frozen in place.

PPpFfrtt

Spencer gasped as he farted, hot and stenching. His stomach gurgled and he temporarily lost his control on his bladder. Hot piss sprayed out of his cock and into his boxers.

“nNoooOO—Ahh!” Spencer cried out and moaned as he tried and failed to regain control. The dam gates had opened and now the flood came bursting through! Spencer stood frozen as his body let go and he began soaking his boxers, peeing his pants, a dark wet patch blooming at the crotch of his overalls and then spread fast as rivulets of urine ran down his legs and soaked through the fabric. Spencer’s eyes fluttered as he pee, flooding his overalls, sending hot push gushing through the material and over his hand, still desperately gripping his leaking crotch even as Spencer formed a puddle beneath him.

PSsssssSSHH

“oh man! The mechanic is pissing his pants!” Said on the of nephews.

“Dude is soaking them too!” Said the other, holding up his phone to record.

Spencer was helpless as his bladder emptied itself in his boxers and overalls. But that wasn’t the worse part. As his bladder gushed out, his stomach gurgle and shit that had filled him slammed against his rear. His guys bubbled and Spencer knew he wasn’t able to keep control over his bowels.

PPFFFFBBRRT

PPBBBBRFFFFERRTTT

BBBTRRFFF

Spencer bent as he was hit with a series of wet “oh no!” Spencer dropped the keys in Daniel’s hand and turned trying the run back inside, but only made it a few steps before a massive cramp bent him over.

PPPRRRRBFFFF!!!

“Come on, no, no, no,” Spencer said panicking as he fumbled with the clasp on his overalls. If he could at least get out of them, but the clasp was stuck and then it was too late. “No-AaggAAAHHH!”

Spencer moaned as he lost complete control of his bowels, a torrent of hot diarrhea exploding into his already soaked boxers and overalls. It was a volcanic mudslide, thick and soft as it blasted out of him. A massive bugle was instantly forming in his overalls, staining the back as he had the front.

BLLKOOPOOOPPPPFFFT

SPLKTPPPFFFFT

“oh my god!” Spencer’s boss cover his nose as Spencer relentless farted as wave after wave of hot recking shit erupted out of him . The liquid shit overflowed his boxers as he emptied his bowls, diarrhea slide down his legs and splattering against the garage floor. Spencer was helpless as he evacuated the hot muddy brown sewage.

PLSSPPOFFFRRT

PPBBBRRTTPPFFFTSSSTK

Spencer, defeated as another wave hit him, feel to his knees, landing in puddle of his own piss as more diarrhea filled his overalls. The foul stench filled the entirety of the garage, as Spencer could only sit in his disgrace.

“oh man,” snicker one of the twins. “This is going to get a shitload of views!”

Spencer groaned as a final fart marked the end of him shitting and soiling himself. He was never trying spicy salad again

[lilacella]

CW body talk, body trends

Rant incoming

Seeing early 2000s skinniness come back is honestly sickening to me. I hate seeing all the fitness influencers suddenly going from weight training and being crazy about protein (btw. also not necessarily healthy but that's not the point) to doing pilates and eating fucking salads as lunch.

Female bodies (and YES of course that includes transwomen I hope I don't have to point that out??) are incessantly subjected to "trends" that jerk around so harshly it will give you wiplash.

"Have a huge ass but stay skinny and tiny on top - Wait, no actually back muscles are sexy and give you an hourglass shape! - Eww, stop getting bulky and do pilates to get long (??) and toned - Nevermind, did you hear thigh gaps are back in? Make sure you get those super low rise jeans that are back in fashion, but make sure you loose that ass first because otherwise good luck with sitting in these - Oi, where are your tits, why are you so flat? You should eat more?"

And it just keeps on going like that.

Your body is not a trend. If it takes intense effort for you to get into and maintain a certain body shape/figure then that shape is probably not the shape your body is supposed to be in!

Look, I'm not saying that you aren't allowed to want to change your body. Or that you shouldn't try to change your eating or workout habits when you don't feel comfortable. Just watch what it's doing to your mind as well. If going to the gym 5 times a week makes you happy and is fun then do it! If you really like kale salads then by all means dig in!

Work out as much, and the way it feels good for you and is fun, eat the foods that make you feel best and buy the clothes that fit you and make you feel nice. That's it. Don't try to press yourself into a mould that was never meant to fit you. And most importantly, don't let other people dictate what you do with your body. It's frankly none of their buisness.

[4urvalidation]

A CASE OF LIMERENCE | Chapter Two

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

A/N: This was supposed to be a lot longer but I've decided to split it in two because it got too long and well... proof reading is a bitch and it's way too late for me to try and be literate. That being said: hope y'all enjoy this!! Lmk your thoughts, I'd love to hear them 💖

A hotel. 

Rose had sent her to a fucking hotel. 

Three and a half stars. Breakfast included. And just enough to last Leni for the entire summer. 

An avalanche of emotions coarse through her body as she throws herself on the perfectly made queen sized bed. The room is okay. It could be worse and just because she hasn’t decided what to tell her Mom yet, doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. (It will be once she catches wind of the slowly crumbling chaos, but until then Leni will enjoy her time here. And continental breakfast.)

Her stomach rumbles at the thought of fresh omelets and honey covered crepes, but when she reaches over to her phone, the smashed screen makes her lose her entire appetite. The look in Rafe’s eyes; his fingers curled into fists; red knuckles and calloused skin… 

Leni shudders. 

She needs to text Sarah. She needs to text all of her girls.

She needs to have them all gathered there on their table, surrounded by mimosas, avocado toasts and truffle fries. She needs to hold each and every one of them for approximately twenty seconds and then talk about the horrible night she had. 

About all the horrible nights she’s had ever since Simon dumped her back in May. 

About the hole in her chest and the never ending heartache and how she wakes every single day vowing to block his stupid ass, but never goes through with it. 

Maybe tomorrow. 

Yes. Definitely tomorrow. 

Her girls will give her all the courage she needs and afterwards, Leni will finally be able to breathe again. Open Instagram without the fear of stumbling upon his story and seeing him stand there with a pretty girl around his arm. 

A much cooler, smarter, hotter pretty girl around his arm. 

Leni twists. 

The pillows are too hard and the covers are too heavy. 

Her mind is racing a million miles per hour. Every thought is more daunting than the other and she wants to fall asleep; she is desperate to fall asleep, but each time she closes her eyes all she can see is those haunting blues staring back at her. 

When she wakes - startled, skin covered in light sweat - it’s bright outside. The soft North Carolina sun dances around her hotel room,calming her raging heartbeat. She slips from under the covers, looking for her phone. 

“Shit.” She completely forgot to charge it. 

She also forgot to set up an alarm. 

So now she’s running late.

Very late. 

Quickly, quickly she takes the coldest of showers and applies the lightest of make-up. Puts on the first thing she can reach for from her suitcase and once again apologizes to Tess and Polly for being so fucking late. 

When she arrives at the country club the drinks have already been ordered: two iced lattes and a pitcher of ice cold water. 

“Ohmigod hi!” Polly jumps from her seat and straight into Leni’s arms. She smells like lavender oil and vanilla and her hair is no longer a damaged shade of blonde and she’s so so happy to see Leni, she simply can’t stop herself from bouncing like an excited puppy. 

Tess on the other hand is as stoic as usual. With an enviable elegance, she stands from her seat and gives Leni a short, but hard embrace. Then, she insists they all order the avocado toast with kale salad. At least some things haven’t changed.

“So, how are things with that hot boyfriend of yours?” Polly wiggles her brows, grin widening. 

“Oh, we broke up. (“NO!”) Yeah. In May, but… it’s okay. It’s not like it was going to last anyways.” Quoting Simon makes Leni’s throat sting. She swallows. Takes a sip from her matcha. Swallows some more. “What about you? What I’ve missed?” 

Her question breaks open a dam Leni had no intentions of even thinking of. As if on queue Tess and Polly begin their diatribes on all things related to the last two summers she regretfully missed out on. 

“Okay so,” Polly begins, “Sarah and Topper broke up, but this was like ages ago (“So many ages ago”, Tess rolls her eyes.) And then Sarah started hanging out with Kie Carrera - you remember Kie Carrera, right? Her parents own The Wreck… anyways, so - she and Kie start hanging out and last thing we know is she and this guy John B (“Who mind you, isn’t even hot like if you are gonna go for a Pogue at least go for a hot one”) No, Tess, he’s cute.” Polly pouts. Tess shakes her head. “Yes. He is. Maybe with a decent haircut - y’know, nevermind. SO - Sarah and John B, they are together and her dad HATES it (“HATES him”) So much drama. Sarah comes to us and she’s like hey guys can you like cover for me and we were like Sarah no you’re literally fucking a Pogue like (“Topper’s our friend.”) Topper’s our friend. Like, you broke his heart. Like, girl you did that. Next thing we know (“They break up”) THEY BREAK UP! And Topper and Sarah are back together again! (“But there’s a catch.”) She is still actually with John B!” 

“Wait - and how do you know all of this?” 

“Well, they tried running away to Mexico (“Allegedly”) yes - allegedly - they tried to run away to Mexico or something, but they got caught in a storm and everyone thought they had died for like six weeks and then her Dad - Ohmigod Tess!” Polly yelps, her eyes no longer fixed on Leni, but somewhere far, far behind her shoulder. “It’s Rafe! Rafe’s here.” 

“Holy shit.” She hears Tess say under her breath and suddenly all sounds begin to dissipate. The tingling in her fingertips returns and her heart - Jesus Christ her heart is going to jump straight out of her chest. “I didn’t know he got out of rehab.” 

“He was in rehab?” Leni hears herself say coarsely, 

“Yeah… I mean he kinda had to. Fuck he looks good.”

“Hey - how’s my hair?” Polly is sitting pin straight, her boobs practically pooling out of her shirt. “Does it look good? Should I go talk to him?” 

“Please don’t embarrass yourself.” Tess says with a grimace and then turns to Leni, “She and Rafe were hooking for a week after his dad died.”

“He was coked out of his fucking mind but my god - best.sex.ever.” 

All three have now turned to look at him as he saunters among the busy tables and towards the one where Topper, Kelce and a couple more guys Leni doesn’t know the names of are sat at. He’s in a suit again, except this one is light blue - the exact color of his eyes and just when she’s about to look away, Rafe’s gaze falls straight on her. 

Leni swallows and turns her head around so violently, she practically gets whiplash. 

“I’m so jealous you got to spend all those summers with him.” Her eyes meet Polly’s. The knot in her stomach twists. 

“Yeah… Tess, what do you mean he had to go to rehab?” She doesn’t mean to ask the question. To be honest, she doesn’t really care for the answer, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 

“Well from what I’ve heard, his dad left him the company and wouldn’t let him run it or something unless he got clean. (“And boy did he get clean. I wanna sit on his head”)”Polly…” Tess rolls her eyes. “Anyways, it just proves how fucked up this whole thing is. Rafe can barely read and yet there he is, CE-fucking-O.” 

“Don’t be mean. Rafe can read. He can read a lot of things.” 

“Except your texts.”

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

[pinkchampagne]

♡ 365 Soft ♡

Pink Champagne's Personal Development Plan

updated december 6, 2024

this is my version of 75 Hard, modified for a realistic approach to long-term personal development and self-improvement. though i was inspired by the structure of 75 Hard, this isn't a short-term challenge. i've organized this plan as a lifestyle blueprint that can be continued for longer than 75 days.

unlike a crash diet or a challenge intended to be started and stopped over and over again, this set of guidelines can be easily implemented into one's life, and here’s why:

i will not lie and say i don't care about physical appearance, but the focus of this strategy is to feel better and improve overall health. my plan explicitly outlines which foods to gravitate towards and which to cut back on. there are no bad foods; this is just what works for me.

crash diets and workout challenges might produce the superficial results you want, but implementing a health strategy that focuses on the big picture is more beneficial in the long run. i’m easing into it, allowing cheat days, and not setting a 75-day timeline. give yourself grace and celebrate your wins.

i love the basic concept and structure of 75 Hard, however, progress pictures are generally most helpful for those who are trying to improve their physical appearance. since this is a long-term plan prioritizing health over appearance, i replaced this section with one on consistency in general, focusing on routines and habits. i also added a self care section because that’s extremely important to me. i will continue updating this post.

with healthy habits comes a healthy body and mind. take care of yourself and you will reap the benefits, mentally and physically.

🫧 DIET

alcohol:

weekends only

never alone

water between drinks

no shots/shooters/bombs etc.

5 drink limit

be mindful of who you're with; do they encourage good habits/behavior?

cut back on the following significantly:

sugar

dairy

carbs

red meat

processed foods

caffeine

exceptions: feta, parmesan, greek yogurt, kefir, mayo, bacon, honey, matcha, celcius

notes:

begin taking marine collagen and chlorophyll for skin and hygiene

increase fruits and veggies: romaine lettuce, tomatoes, green peppers are my focus right now.

increase protein intake: chickpeas, peanut butter, eggs, black beans.

honorable mentions: oats, blueberries, avocado, sweet potato, carrots, broccoli, spinach, kale, white meat, kombucha

🫧 WATER

100 oz a day. i'm purchasing a brita faucet filter and a new water bottle to encourage this goal.

🫧 WORKOUT ROUTINE

mondays, wednesdays, fridays:

30 donkey kicks, each side

30 fire hydrants, each side

3x

tuesdays & thursdays:

30 second plank

30 second side plank, each side

30 crunches

3x

notes:

sometimes i do my ab workout on saturday or sunday as well to get a third one in.

i plan on working cardio and physical therapy exercises into this routine eventually.

i’m thinking of purchasing a home pilates reformer!

🫧 SELF CARE

skin

wash face twice a day + use zit stickers

rhassoul clay/charcoal/honey face masks

sheet masks

actually use my quartz roller

ice roller, gua sha, steamer

red light therapy!!

body

exfoliating body scrub

first aid beauty kp bump eraser for legs

glycolic acid for legs + under arms

pumice stones for feet

misc.

continue getting hair cut every month and a half

be more consistent with brow waxing

get rid of old clothes + build new wardrobe

🫧 KNOWLEDGE AND GROWTH

daily podcast playlist

personal development podcasts & youtube - listen to at least one ep/vid a day

date yourself instead podcast – lyss boss

hail yes podcast

hailey gamba on youtube

thewizardliz on youtube

tam kaur youtube + self obsessed podcast

books - 30 minutes a day

freedom is a constant struggle - angela davis

a people's history of the united states - howard zinn

i'm taking book and podcast recs!

🫧 CONSISTENCY

follow budget

follow morning, evening, bedtime, and weekend routines

meal prep for weekday lunches: couscous salad with chickpeas, feta, sundried tomatoes and white wine vinegar + lemon juice dressing

create & post content every day ♡

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

🎀30 Day Glow Up Challenge🎀 - day thirteen

♡ Mindset : I deal with seasonal depression and even though I am on anti depressants I’ve made it a habit to walk for 10 minutes in the morning or afternoon today I waited a little to late and I felt myself getting sad. I was going to procrastinate but when I was watching one of my fav lifestyle YouTubers she motivated me to get up and go for my walk. As I walked I read a book and thought about my day and the progress I am making in my glow up journey.

♡ Health : I went grocery shopping yesterday and I bought a sweet cranberry kale salad kit. I loveee this salad kit I usually get it from Costco but I purchased it from ShopRite it was so good I had it for dinner with my rotisserie chicken and I added two serving sizes of feta such a bomb salad. I’ve been creating a Pinterest board for meal ideas and healthy meal plans.

♡ Self Care : when I went on my walk I decided to stop by dollar tree to look for a new journal. I want to start Quran journaling. I didn’t find any good journals sadly but I did pick up a foot mask I’ll be using that tomorrow. I needed that for a fact.

♡ Experience : I loveeee Pinterest so much like I have so many different boards and pins that I love so much and there are so many amazing creators on Pinterest who also have Tumblr pages. So I’ve been working on my Pinterest page for this blog and I can’t wait to share my Pinterest page once everything is done and uploaded.

Sorry I missed yesterdays upload I was a little overwhelmed posting everyday and needed a break. Tell me how you’re doing babes I would love to know my inbox and requests are open<33333