#bit rusty this morning but she was a nice warmup!

[jerich0two]

could you draw Emily of Hazbin Hotel?

Order up! /lhj

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 3

Word Count: 2,340

POV: Reader than switches to Sid

Warnings: Language

Notes: I had planned on this being a bit longer but with everything that happened I didn’t get to write as much as I want. Also this was kind of unplanned, but since everyone wanted a prank included I decided to write it in. Hope you guys enjoy!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

You stood there wracking your brain trying to figure out what you had done or said that first night you met Sidney Crosby. He'd done a full one-eighty in twenty-four hours on you. When you'd left the party you actually thought, that there was quite possibly something between the two of you, but since then it was painfully obvious that he'd changed his mind. It was never more evident than in this moment right now when he clearly could've cared less about the snacks and extras that you'd had delivered to his room, let alone the book you'd left. His simple, 'oh yeah, thanks,' made it evident that he just tolerated you and your job with the team.

 You knew it was going to be hard with him. It was part of the reason why you added the book on Egyptian history for him, hoping that it would sort of be a peace offering, or at least some common ground for you both. If he didn't appreciate that, he was surely going to hate the one on ancient Rome that would be waiting for him in D.C. It was too late now, you weren't going to not send it. If anything it only strengthened your resolve to somehow get yourself and Sid to at least be friends, since there would obviously never be anything more.

 The following morning you headed on the bus with the team to the arena for morning skate, where everything went great. You began to see why the guys took naps in the afternoon, as their schedule was super demanding. As you headed back on the bus, for the game, you didn't expect Tanger, to grab the seat next to you. "So, how are things going so far?"

 "Really good I think." It was true all the guys had been super nice and so receptive to all that you'd been doing for the team, well everyone except Sid. You chose not to get into that with Tanger though, so instead, you added. "Unless you've heard something different?" It seemed like a smart way to see about Sid's indifference, without flat out asking him how Sidney felt about your new role.

 "God, no. Everyone loves you. You really outdid yourself with the little care packages. We all appreciated them." Well, not everyone.

 "Just trying to do my part and make the trip a little easier for you guys."

 "Speaking of that. I was wondering if I could ask a favor." He ran a hand through his hair as if he was nervous, which seemed silly since you'd known Tanger for a while now.

 "Sure, that's my job you know. I'm here to be helpful."

 "Well, this is kind of personal. Alex's birthday is coming up and…well Catherine always does the shopping and comes up with something over the top for him. I was hoping that this time, maybe I'd have some great suggestion to give her. Obviously, I suck though, because I can't think of a damn thing."

 "Oh, I can totally help with that." You took out your phone as the bus pulled into the arena, everyone filing out to get ready for the game. "Let me see what I can come up with and I'll get back to you."

 "Yeah, that would be great." You followed Tanger off the bus, then went about a few odds and ends that you started helping the staff with. It was probably about forty-five minutes later that he found you again.

 "Hey (Y/N), I had this awesome idea about Alex's birthday present."

 "Oh yeah, what were you thinking." You asked as you made your way over to the locker room where Tanger was standing. He opened the door for you to come in. You tended to avoid going into the room unless it was necessary, not that you couldn't. Social media was in there all the time filming things, so it wouldn't be like you were the only female in there. It just seemed like a line you weren't ready to cross yet; though at the moment you had no choice but to follow him.

 As you gazed around the room, you had to appreciate the way Dana Heinze and his guys made the locker room feel more like home. Each stall had a nameplate on it, and the Pens emblem was placed throughout the room. Most of the guys were in there, prepping for the game. They didn't even take notice that you were there. "Tanger, you're up." Hollered Chris, one of the team trainers.

 "Shit, can you grab my phone out of my bag. I saved it in there." You wandered over to where his bag sat. It still amazed you how they lugged all this equipment around. You had a feeling it was going to be a challenge to find a cell phone in the damn thing with how big it was. Crouching down, you pulled the zipper back the whole way to shed some light into the black piece of luggage. That's when Marc-Andre popped out with a loud roar.

 "Jesus Christ!" You screamed stumbling back, as your heel caught on some random piece of equipment on the floor. You would've landed flat on your ass if it hadn't been for someone grabbing you around the waist and holding you tight against their body. Even though you'd literally just been scared half to death, you somehow felt safe in this person's arms; like nothing bad could happen to you as long as he was around. It was a bad feeling to have considering this was a new job, and you didn't need to be developing feelings for a player. You took another minute to just absorb the feeling of being in this person's arms, as well as catch your breath.

 He must have heard or felt your deep intake of breath, for the next thing you knew he was saying. "It's ok. I got you." You knew that voice, well you honestly knew all the guys' voices; you just weren't used to be held in their embrace. When you looked back, Sid's brown eyes were staring into yours. They were filled with concern, and well something else, desire. You could see it in his eyes as much as you were sure that yours reflected the same. It was dangerous territory and there was no exploring it as the whole team had their eyes on you.

 "Thanks," you said righting yourself. You turned your full attention to Flower than. "What the hell, Flower! You just scared the crap out of me." You were laughing along with the rest of the room now, and Marc-Andre had the biggest smile on his face.

 "Welcome to the team." He said coming over and giving you a big hug. "You're not an official member until we prank you."

 "Oh my god, you should've seen your face." Horny came up and embraced you as well. "It was priceless."

 "I got it all on video too," Tanger said holding his phone up, that you were suppose to be looking for.

 "Wait…you guys were all in on this?" You looked around the room and about half the guys were nodding their head.

 "We do it to all the new guys. Couldn't leave you out." Most of the guys came over and gave you a hug, saying that you were a good sport about things.

 "You do realize I know where all of you sleep right? And I will get you back." You shot back with a little laugh before exiting the locker room. "Now get your asses ready or we'll see who scared of who." The moment you shut the door, you leaned against it heavily to stop your racing heart. To anyone else, it would look as though you were still recovering from having the wits scared out of you, but what you couldn't get over was the feeling of being held in Sidney's arms and the look in his eyes.

 All this time you thought he was indifferent to you, but that look told you otherwise. You could still feel his hands wrapped around; it was like an imprint that couldn't be wiped away. There were so many things going through your brain at the moment, and yet this wasn't the place or time to think about it. You pushed away from the door, just as it opened; startling you once again.

 "Hey (Y/N)," thankfully it was Tanger's voice and not the man who was at the forefront of your mind. "I don't need that present for Alex, Catherine has it covered." You rolled your eyes at him, you should've known that was part of the prank. He just shrugged his shoulders at you. "I had to sell it, didn't I?" You took a towel and threw in his face before, heading down the hallway to get back to work.

 SID'S POV

 What the hell had just happened? No one had told him they were going to prank (Y/N), for if they had he would've advised against it, but damn had the timing been right for her to literally fall in your arms. When she'd walked into the locker room, you couldn't breathe. It seemed like every time there was a game, the woman dressed in something to tantalize your dreams. There was nothing left to do but walk out of the locker room and get some air. That's when you had the misfortune or fortune as it were, to be in the perfect spot to catch her as Marc-Andre scared her.

 Her body fit perfectly to yours, as your arms came around her mid-section to steady her. Your forearm had brushed the underside of her breast and just that small contact alone had you yearning for more. There was an undeniable spark between the two of you at that moment, and when she turned to look at you; you knew she felt it too. At least she had the sense to recover because right now you didn't give a damn that there was a game to be played in an hour. You wanted nothing more than to haul her off to some dark secluded corner and kiss her senseless.

 The thoughts running through your head were pure madness. You shouldn't be thinking about the things you wanted to do to her body or how you wanted to know what she felt like under those layers of clothing. You needed to pull yourself together, you had sixty minutes of hockey and a team that needed your attention. So, when Rusty called out to see if you were playing soccer that's what you decided you needed to do to get your mind off of (Y/N).

 Three hits into the warmup ritual, you were still thinking about her. Only this time it was about the last game and how she'd touched your hat and brought you good luck. That superstitious side of yours, kept an eye out for her so that you could do it again. However, this time she was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, with both yourself and your irrational tendencies, you headed into the locker room and tried to focus on the game ahead.

 The first period you played like shit and Ottawa was up one to nothing. You were beginning to wish that you would have just asked (Y/N) to touch your hat, for it felt like you were now being cursed or maybe that was happening because you'd held her a little too close to your body earlier and your bad game was some form of punishment. By the middle of the second, you were sure it was the latter, for the Senators were up, three zip. Thankfully Horny was at least able to get you on the board with one goal shortly thereafter. You'd just spent a particularly long shift out on the ice and were skating back to the bench when you saw her on the ramp, nervously watching the game with such intensity as if by sheer will alone, she would have one of you to score a goal.

 As you sat on the bench, something in you shifted and you stopped thinking about your silly superstitions and decided that if (Y/N) seemed to have that much faith in the team so were you. As you skated out on your next shift, the puck somehow found your stick on a pass from Horny. A spin to the left and a fake on your opponent and you tapped the puck into the back of the net, cutting the other teams lead to only one. As your teammates crowded you, it wasn't words of celebration you shared but ones of motivation. And when you made your way back to the bench, there she was smiling brighter than the sun. It was contagious and you could help but smile back when she caught your eye.

 When the third period started the team was on fire, Carl Hagelin scoring shortly into the period to tie the game. There was a feeling deep in your chest that you were going to win this one, and somewhere in your mind, you acknowledged you want to do it for (Y/N). Things changed though, when Beau went down, after a bad hit from Zibanejad. The medical staff was on top of things as they took him back to the locker room and you saw (Y/N) disappear with them. She missed the rest of the game, and also the empty netter you put in sealing your victory. By the time the buzzer sounded, and you headed down the ramp; you could just make out (Y/N) and Beau heading out of the arena. Beau's arm wrapped around her as she helped him out. The rational part of you, told you she was just doing her job and helping him; though it was the irrational one that told you it looked more like a girlfriend tending to her injured man. Unfortunately for you this time, the illogical part of you won out as you found yourself jealous of your teammate the first time in your life.  

[thedivinecommaarbitrage]

Waiting for Lightning - Chp 1

I Remember Days When I Was Younger

AO3

Beauregard Lionett, junior at the University of the Cobalt Soul and star of the track team attended every 6 AM weekend practice hungover. She said it was her secret weapon. The added pain from the pounding headache gave her an edge. (And turned her on a little, though she'd only admitted that to Fjord while quite tipsy.) This morning was no different, except the women's rugby team was practicing on the indoor field the warmup track circled. Beau was mid-stretch, jamming to her tunes, and checking out the women on the field, a state of being she rather enjoyed.

Now Beau considered herself a bit of a Casanova. She had slept her way through most of the girls on the track team, and the soccer team, and half the sorority girls she partied with if she was being honest. So, she was sizing up the rugby team, looking for her next one-night stand when she saw the most striking woman.

Running drills across the field was a Norse goddess. A tall, muscular woman with hair that went from black to white tied back in a loose mess of braids. Beau couldn't see her eyes from this distance, but she had dark makeup all smudged around them. Beau could appreciate that aesthetic since she normally sported day old, messy eyeliner. The mystery woman also had a blue line inked from her lower lip down her chin and neck. Beau bit her lip wondering how far down that line went. Beau was so caught up in ogling the woman that she didn't notice Dairon was behind her until they smacked the backside of her head.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Lionett, and get on the track. It's time for training, not drooling over the other athletes." The assistant coach was already walking away before Beau could react.

"Hey! My head's here in the game, Dairon. I know what I'm doing. I'm the best for a reason, okay. Lay off for a minute, will ya?" Beau said as she stood up and jogged after her coach. Dairon had taken an interest in Beau during her freshman season on the team. They were a total hardass, and Beau would never admit it, but she would have washed out without their help. "I'll do my laps, okay. You don't have to tell me twice." And she took off before Dairon could continue telling her off.

Beau ran her laps, with her music turned up loud enough to compete with the sound of blood pumping in her head. Right now, it was Joan Jett. She kept stealing glances at that woman as she played on the field. Beau didn't know much about rugby, but she could still tell that the woman was good. She hadn't ever had the ball, but she had made successful tackles against most of the players who had possession of the ball. That woman was all muscle and ferocity, taking down opponents left and right. It was really fucking hot.

Unfortunately, the rugby team's practice ended before the track team's. Beau watched the woman quietly gather up her things and head to the locker rooms, not talking with any of the other players. Surprisingly, off the field, the woman seemed demure and reserved, compared to the powerhouse she was on the field. Beau only focused back in on her laps once the woman was fully out of sight.

“Lionett,” Dairon called to Beau as she walked away from the track at the end of practice. “Meet me at 10:00 in the practice room for more training. It’s been awhile, and I’m worried you’ve gotten rusty.” They turned on their heel and marched away before Beau could respond.

“Great, yes, Dairon, that fits perfectly in my schedule. Thanks for asking. You’re such a considerate coach.” Beau said to Dairon’s retreating back. She sighed and continued on to the locker room. She was already feeling the laps in her legs and more training with Dairon would just hurt more.

 When Dairon had first taken an interest in Beau, she had been rather angry and troubled. She was getting into fights with her teammates and was close to being kicked off the team before they stepped in. Dairon had taken her to a small practice room and said, “Take a swing. Try and hit me. Take your anger out here, off the field.” So, Beau took a wild swing. Dairon easily sidestepped, so fast Beau didn’t even notice, and then followed up with a slap to the side of Beau’s head. “You’re sloppy, directionless. You need discipline and order. Again.” Beau swung out again, and Dairon raised their hand in an effortless block. “Better, but you’re still miles away. Try again.” Beau yelled in frustration. Why was her coach doing this? She closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose and took one more wild swing. To her surprise, this one connected with something soft, and she felt a small crack. Beau opened her eyes to see Darion staring back at her in shock, blood gushing from their nose.

“Oh my god, did I break your nose? Fuck, that’s cool. Ah, I mean, shit, fuck. Are you gonna kick me off the team?” Beau’s sudden joy at landing a blow on her coach was crushed as she remembered the reality. She had punched a school official, fuck.

Dairon lightly touched the side of their nose and laughed. “That was good. A little wild, but when you focused, and let your anger slide away, you connected. You have potential, Lionett. And no, I’m not going to kick you off the team. I’m going to teach you to fight, properly, with restraint and focus.”

Beau stood there, shocked. Fighting training? All she had wanted as a kid was for her dad to enroll her in karate or any martial arts, but he had refused on account of it being improper for a girl to learn to fight. “Really? What, that’s so cool! I can’t wait to punch things so good. This is gonna be sick,” Beau said, looking at her fists. She already felt so much cooler.

“It’s not something ‘cool’ or something to be taken lightly. You need control and composure if you’re going to be successful on the team. It’s about discipline. Remember that, Beauregard.” Dairon opened the door to the practice room. “Every day after practice, we will meet for another hour, and you will learn. Now, get out of here.” With that Dairon turned on their heel and walked off down the hall. Beau was left standing, still in shock, feeling like her world had been shifted.

 Beau slammed the door to her dorm open and tossed her gym bag in the general direction of her closet. "Morning, Jessie!" She called as she strode across the room to flip down in her roommate's bean bag.

"Beau, why do you have to be so loud? It's the morning. It's time for sleeping. Do you even sleep, Beau?" Her roommate, Jester, groaned as she rolled away from Beau.

"But, Jess, I brought pastries." Beau held up the paper bag, emblazoned with the emblem of The Slayer's Cake, the most popular bakery in Zadash.

"Pastries?" Jester squealed and snatched the bag out of Beau's hand before leaping back onto her bed. "Beau, you're the best roommate ever. Thank you!" She rummaged through the bag. "And you got my favorite blueberry muffins? You really are the best."

 Ah, it was nothing really. The on-campus store is in between here and the track." It really wasn't, but Beau loved making Jester happy. She was the best friend that Beau had ever had. (Though she would punch out anyone who accused her of being soft like that.) “Come on, eat your sweets, I’ve got to meet Dairon again in a couple hours and we have to study with Fjord before then.”

 Beau had met her wild roommate on move in day freshman year. She'd driven herself to school in her shitty, old Toyota Camry because her parents couldn't be bothered to give a shit about their only kid leaving for college. Her brother was born less than a year later, and Beau stopped wondering why they never gave a shit about her anymore. She had finally made it to her dorm to find a bubbly, little blue tiefling decorating one side of the room in pink, frilly things, and a tall, buff minotaur standing guard, arms folded. “Hey, ummm, I’m Beau. Your roommate, I guess.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Jester. And this is Bluud. He’s harmless. Bluud, get out of her way, so she can unpack. I can’t wait to be the best of friends. I’m an art major. What are you studying?” The tiefling, Jester, bombarded her with even more questions while they set up their room and ran out to get more supplies at the local Target. Beau was sure she was going to hate Jester, but after a few hours, they were good friends. And by the time they went to bed, Jester declared them to be best friends forever. They had been roommates ever since, so for now, Jester’s declaration was holding true. Beau couldn’t picture anyone else putting up with her shit, and no one else could handle Jester’s specific brand of wild.

 “Hey, Jess, I saw this cool chick at track this morning. She was practicing with the rugby team, and I’ve never seen her before. She had this really goth look with black and white hair and a chin tattoo. Have you seen her?” Beau began changing out of her running clothes into a different cut off t-shirt and sweats.

“Oh, I think you’re talking about Molly’s new roommate. She just moved here from another school; I think. Her name is Yasha. I saw her briefly when I was at Molly’s last weekend.” Jester turned back to her vanity to finish putting on her makeup for the day. “She didn’t really talk, but yeah she looks really cool and really strong. Did you see her arms? Like, so nice.”

“Yeah, she was a powerhouse on the field,” Beau turned away from Jester to hide her excited expression. Jester knew who she was, and she was Molly’s friend. Beau and Molly may not always get along, but they still hung out with the same people. Beau would have a chance to meet her, to meet Yasha, then. “Yasha…” Beau murmured. The name was beautiful and strangely fitting for the woman she had watched on the practice field. Beau blushed as she thought about her. Beau was going to talk to her. Get her number. Maybe even court her. That last thought made her laugh; Beau hadn’t ever courted anyone. But that muscular, goth woman made her want to try, and Beau would try anything at least once.