#fuck the superstitions. i'm so lucky for seeing this little guy

[existencebringsonlypain]

CAT AT THERAPY OFFICE

THERAPY CAT

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Charmed

Simon knows how it started. This...superstition that leads to his men feeling safe. It involves you. Of course, it does. You have crept into every other aspect of his life, as slowly as squash vines fingering their way up bushes and houses. He doubts you even know you've done it, infiltrated his peace.

Johnny, in his ineffable suaveness, kissed you on the cheek one time as he said his goodbyes before a mission. The man got blown clear through a wall with nary a scratch. The only thing different he could remember doing had been kissing you. Bastard couldn't keep his mouth shut about it. None of the other guys had met you yet. Ghost knew that would change. Johnny wouldn't shut the fuck up about how he had to test this again, to see if a kiss from you turned out to be a lucky charm.

Military men were more in tune with spirits, vibes, cosmic entities than most religious leaders, witches, or charlatans combined. They had to be. There were no atheists in foxholes after all.

They did meet you, Price, then Gaz, then Roach. Ah, Roach. Always the last to be let into a new dynamic. A capable solider, a solid member of the 141, but still a guarded, protected member, to those on the outside. You welcomed him with a warm smile and a surprise knowledge of sign language.

"This is Roach," Gaz clapped him on the shoulder. "He doesn't speak."

Roach had glared at Kyle over his shoulder. The heat in the stare had been clear even behind his sunglasses and surgical mask.

You squinted up at Kyle from your place at the coffee table, mid-game of cribbage with Johnny. (This was the only game he had a chance of winning since luck could sway a hand in either direction).

"Does he not speak or does he not communicate with you because you're kinda an asshole?"

Kyle's nose scrunched down at you. Price laughed into his drink and Simon wouldn't help a small chuckle. He opened his mouth to defend himself but you turned to look at Roach. You moved your hands quickly, one brow lifted in question. Simon recognized only one of your moves as sign language.

Roach did a little head shake before replying, hands flying as fast as yours did.

You laugh at whatever he signs, "I am not calling you roach. My friends will not let me live it down if I make another friend with a weird name."

You glare at Johnny who grins in reply.

Roach signs more as Kyle slips into the kitchen for a drink for everyone.

"My brother is deaf. I learned to sign before I could speak, my mom taught me by virtue of signing with my brother." You sign along as you speak, telling everyone your half of the conversation at least. "We still talk regularly even though he moved to Australia to be a professor at one of their colleges."

You and Roach had hit it off, becoming fast friends. Signs flew back and forth. At one point Simon watched your brows draw together before snapping to glare at Johnny and then back to Roach. Simon watched it all with a slight fascination. Roach had never taken to anyone so fast, let alone a woman. You slid into the dynamic of the 141 as if you were molded for it.

When the guys had readied themselves to leave you ducked under Johnny's attempt to plant a kiss on you again. Instead, you dragged Roach off to the bathroom and sent him out askew. Sunglasses pushed into his hair, mask sitting wonky on his face, and several kiss marks in pink lipstick covering from ear to ear. Several were only half covered by his mask.

Johnny glared at him for getting kisses that he needed to test for luck. Gaz clapped him on the shoulder.

"Guess I'm not the only asshole here today. Better luck next time Soap. But at least we know that if Roach comes through an impossible situation then she is definitely a good luck charm."

Everyone laughed as they trailed out of the building. Simon had seen you, leaning on the railing on the top of the stairs. You sent him a two-fingered salute, he nodded and shut the door behind him.

Roach had taken a shot to the side, missing his liver by millimeters. That had confirmed it for the team, you were a good luck charm. That is why Simon had popped back to the flat, for a smidge of that luck.

He found you asleep on the couch. Peaceful. The couch would hurt you if you stayed on it too long. Simon knew from experience. He slid a hand under your knees and upper back, lifting you into his arms. You blinked sleepily up at him.

"Hi Ghost. Why are you carrying me?"

"Can't sleep on the couch," he grunted back.

"Oh," came your sleepy little reply. "Do you need a kiss?"

Only the training of years and years kept him from freezing up at your question. He pushed into your room through the cracked door, sitting you upright in your bed. He knelt on one knee at your feet. You rubbed your eyes as you looked at him.

"Yes."

He had a solo mission. This one scared him. Something in his bones told him that he wouldn't make it home in one piece.

You lift both hands to his masked face. Leaning forward you place two gentle kisses over the eyeblack of his eyelids. It wasn't enough. Ghost shifted the mask up to sit over his nose. He watched your gaze flick over his scars, moving like a dragonfly.

Still holding his face you pull him close, angling him for a kiss. The softness of your lips against his rough ones zaps at his soul. He can't help but put both hands on the bed, bracketing your hips, and pushing up into the kiss. Your thumbs slip beneath the edge of the mask, rubbing streaks in the hallows of his face.

Taking the barest part of your lip between his teeth he pulled. You breathed a moan into his mouth before pulling back. Avoiding his eyes you pull the mask down, shifting it to sit just so. Going so far as to tuck it into his hoodie you still avoid his eyes.

When your hands are settled in your lap again you look at him.

"Good luck Ghost, Simon."

He looked at you a moment more before slipping from your room and the flat altogether.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[ariahearthockey]

Love Me, If You Will - Chapter 4

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin

Tags: 2017 NHL Playoffs, Concussion, Memory Loss, Medical Inaccuracies, Unexplained Medical Conditions, Alternate Reality, Time Travel (sort of), Pining, Fluff, Porn With Feelings, Happy Ending (sort of)

Soundtrack: Dancing On My Own - Calum Scott

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Chapter 4

Out of public's knowledge, Sidney has another set of routine being done at home on every game day. It is the routine before the widely known routine that is done at the rink. It consist of an hour nap right after lunch, a shower, followed by a thirty minute meditation and excessive tape watching until he can point out all of the opponent's strengths and weaknesses. But that is just him. He isn't sure if Geno has one and he respects the privacy of one's quirks enough to not ask Geno about it. So basically he doesn't know what Geno does when he leaves the rink after practice.

Of all things Sidney would have guessed, he definitely didn’t see Geno eating himself into a piroshki coma on a game day. After they left the rink, Geno made a stop at one of his favourite Russian restaurant and got himself something of two dozens of them in various fillings.

"Wow, G. That's a lot of—" Sidney has to say something as Geno stuffs the last piece into his mouth.

"Mmm.. Sid have pasta, I'm have piroshki." Geno huffs in between munch, and huffs and Sidney wonders if their nutritionist knew about this.

"Oh no, I'm not judging. I'm just a little concern. Like, are you okay? Do you need someone to rub your belly?"

"Sid need practice. Chirps still terrible."

Sidney stands to get the dirty dishes to the sink, all the while chuckling at Geno.

"So, this is your routine, eh? Or do you have more?

"Not as many as you, for sure. But some we do together."

"Really? So what? After you demolished those piroshki, we burn it out with hot kinky sex marathon?"

He doesn't know why he said that, or does he know anything else because that was one of the very few times when his mouth runs faster than his brain, and he blames it on the concussion. He could easily play it out as some casual chirp that means nothing if he doesn't feel his own cheeks burn. He is sure his blush tells the same level of embarrassment he feels internally when Geno stares at him like he has just spoken the forbidden word. Then it dawns on him.

"Oh. Um, I mean, yeah. We're married and married couple have sex all the time but that doesn't mean we do that as part of our routine, right? I mean, I was just trying to be funny, you know? Because you devoured all those calories and what better way to sweat it all out than some vigorous round of—"

He stops and winces at his choice of word and finds himself get all the more flustered when Geno gives him a sly grin, clearly enjoying seeing Sidney digging himself a hole. "Not that it immediately meant sex. I mean, of course not. There are other forms of workout that two people can do together that doesn't involve taking their clothes off or—"

"We do that many times, Sid."

"Wh—what?"

"Have sex with clothes on. And we have sex before marry too. Many times."

He should not be so flabbergasted at the mention of sex at his age. "Oh wow, okay." Absolutely not. "Um, that's—

"One time we late for practice, I'm give handjob until Sid come in boxers."

"Oh, God."

"Then sometime Sid tease a lot, I'm fuck Sid with pants down over couch."

A wave of arousal crashes over him and he finds himself getting hard in his pants. He should feel ashamed by the sort of response his body has from Geno's implications.

"Okay. So we um—we need to—"

"Sid."

He looks up promptly when he hears his name and is instantly caught in the depths of Geno's brown orbs. How did he get so close so fast?

"Sid think too much, brain not rest." Geno taps a finger to Sidney's temple before he slides his hand down to cup Sidney's flushed face. He leans into Geno's touch when Geno rubs soothing circles onto his heated cheeks. "I'm not force Sid. If Sid not remember, how I'm do?"

Sidney gulps visibly. "But—but if it's the routine—"

"No, Sid. We not fuck before game. You say too much distract from game." Geno moves his free hand down to his neck while murmuring those words in his ear. Sidney gasps softly as the burst of warm breath sends a tingling sensation down his spine.

With his renewed bravery fuelled by his waking arousal, he asks, "Then, what about after?"

Geno grunts and pushes Sidney back until the edge of the kitchen counter is digging into his ass. "I'm try be gentleman but Sid always make hard for me."

"Geno—"

He is cut off when Geno charges forward and kisses him with fervent, with an intensity that he has never known before. It is bruisingly delicious—all the licking and battling of tongues is making Sidney breathless and dizzy with want. And when Geno pulls on his bottom lip in between his teeth and sucks on the plump flesh, Sidney is hit with a strong current of desire that makes his hips buck forward on its own accord. Sidney lets out a broken, whiny noise when his own erection comes in contact with the obvious hard bulge, and it blows Sidney's mind to know that Geno is just as affected by the kiss as he is.

"Geno, do you want—"

Geno breaks their kiss and rears back, leaving a heady Sidney chasing after it. He opens his eyes and sees an equally flustered Geno, gasping for breath.

"Sid, we need to stop." Geno says desperately. His eyes—completely darkened with lust—drop down to Sidney's mouth and his finger comes up to trace the seam of the swollen lip.

"Yeah, we need—we need to stop." Sidney echoes Geno's words in a stutter whilst trying to catch Geno's mouth into another round of head-spinning kiss.

"Mmm, no, Sid. We uh—we can't." Geno grits out and pushes Sidney away with much reluctance. Sidney is confused by the mixed messages and seeing the pained look on Geno's face makes him jump back a little. In a minute window of clarity, he is crushed by the weight of his own stupidity. He chides himself for getting too caught up in his own feeling to see that Geno is trying to let him down easy.

"Oh. Okay. You're right. I'm—I'm sorry. This is probably a bad idea and I'd totally understand if you don't—"

"No, no. Sid. I'm not mean that. I'm want you, but we have game.." Geno let that trail off to its obvious conclusion. As clueless as he is sometimes, the indication is dawning clear and it makes him feel good again.

"Oh. The routine. Right. Superstitions." Sidney bites down on his lips in the hopes of salvaging himself from sounding more like an inarticulate fool. For some reason, that makes Geno dips back down and kisses him with a deep, throaty groan, and once again steals all his breath away.

"Sid drive me crazy. Bite lip and look so beautiful."

Sidney's breath hitches in his throat and his eyes flutter close. "God, you need to stop saying things like that if you don't want to break routine, G."

Geno leans back for the sake of giving both of them some breathing room, and takes long, deep breaths to calm himself. "I'm go out for run now, then shower, then nap. We watch tape after, yes?"

"Yeah," Sidney says, nodding at the same time. "We can do that."

And it is routine and more routine from then on. It becomes a comfortable setting for both of them, each minding their own quirks studiously. As promised, they go to the entertainment room later in the afternoon and binge on their previous games with the Caps, and discuss game plays and strategies like the professionals they are. They flinch when the tape plays the hit on Sidney on repeat, capturing every detail from every angle and the slow motion makes it look ten times worse than it is.

"The guys, they all angry about hit. Want revenge."

There is a moment of silence before Sidney speaks. "Hey, I know you guys are angry about that but focus on what's important, okay? Please don't go around starting stupid shit because you know we're not gonna win the game from the box."

"I'm try but I'm no promise. Hard to control Horny."

Sidney laughs and secretly agrees with Geno. There is no stopping Horny from anything when he is all fired up because he has been proven to runs solely on intensity stemming from his loyalty to his team.

"Just win this one for me, eh?"

"I'm make sure. Score and make Holtby look bad goalie."

"Well, I'd like to see that for a change because in my head, it was a pretty frustrated game. I don't remember like the exact sequence of it, but we were like, outshot the entire time. We're lucky that Shultzy scored a late one in the third, I think it's a power play or something or else we're heading into overtime for sure."

Geno snickers at the mention of overtime because it is no fun and the pressure is too high.

"Oh wait, I think you get an assist from that goal, so there's something."

Geno scoffs at the subtle chirp, "Your head broken. I'm show you hat trick tonight."

Sidney wants nothing more than to kiss the stupid smug look away from Geno's face but he isn't sure if he is capable of stopping once he get started. So, he settles on something else instead.

"Yeah, put your money where your mouth is, G."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

Geno uncaps the new bottle of Gatorade and down half of it in several gulps, and then they are back to tape watching and serious hockey talk until it is time to get to the rink for one interesting game with the Caps, sans a concussed Sidney Crosby.

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