mccallofthewild

Dreams had came true for Jackson Whittemore. After spending most of his middle school and high school career playing Lacrosse, he earned a full scholarship to play with the CalBears at University of California. It was an opportunity of a lifetime and he couldn’t see himself doing anything else even though his father, David, still urged him to take up law school. But for Jackson, sports was what he was good at, lacrosse especially.

Bringing him to his first day of practice, they were set to do conditioning drills. It was a trial of sorts, testing each players abilities, especially the newcomers. Going from cone box, pro agility shuttle, speed squats and his personal favorite, suicide runs, there was nothing he couldn’t get through, being one of the few to finish before the any of the others. Now, it was just a matter of being noticed and he hoped he was.

“Alright, bring it in! Great work, all of you!”

The entire team huddled towards the left of the field around the infamous Tanner Emerson, one of the best coaches in the state. Word was that he had planned to eventually retire and this might be his last year. This only gave Jackson more incentive to prove himself. 

“Welcome! Now, I don’t need to tell you that all of you are the best of the best. Last year, my scouter Eli worked hard searching for you and I have to admit, I’m quite impressed. I think this is gonna be a great year! As always.” Tanner clapped his hands before taking a step back and gesturing to a man behind him. Obviously younger than Tanner, but he also had a quite a few years on Jackson himself. “This is Scott McCall by the way. My assistant coach. I look forward to seeing him be your coach next year, great player and a great man.“ Tanner nods approvingly before he pulls out his cell. "For just today, he’ll be taking over. I have personal stuff to attend to. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Not Jeallous

@mccallofthewild Continued from x.

Jackson feels uncomfortable with Scott’s arm on him, but the shocked look on the girls face at Jackson’s abrupt intrusion makes it more than worth it.

Still, he’s relieved when Scott slips off him a few steps away.

“Really, McCall?” he says as they head into the locker room. “A sophomore? You couldn’t figure out how to get rid of her?”

“How about you start with something like, ‘Hey, you’re a sophomore and I’m a senior/co-captain of the lacrosse team, so yeah this” he gestures to Scott and then at himself, as if he’s Scott and Scott is the girl in question. “’…probably not gonna be a good fit.’”

“You can’t be flirting with B-list chicks.” he adds, turning the combination on his locker. “As much as I loath to say this, you and I occupy a much closer social status than we once did so you doing that makes me look bad.”

There. He knew there was a reason that the scene had made him angry. That was definitely the reason.

@mccallofthewild

Austin smiled as he entered the locker room after the big lacrosse game. He wasn’t on the team, but as the only male cheerleader, he had to share the locker room with the players. Not that he was complaining.

“Good game, Scotty.” He said to the other Alpha as the other arrived at the adjacent locker.

@mccallofthewild

It took Isaac a full ten minutes at least to hit the submit button on Craigslist, a post titled ‘Help me lose my virguynity’. A part of him was maybe doing this as a joke, or maybe it was out of boredom, or even..desperation. Either way, his dad would be gone all night, it was a Friday and that was the day he’d always go and get smashed somewhere and not come back until the next day. Deciding it would be best to keep his actual name out of the post, he didn’t think about changing anything else. Including his favorite food, favorite music, movies, and sports. Information that was clearing describing himself..along with his actual phone number. Sighing once the post had been live for a few minutes, he shrugs and sit back, “This should be interesting..”

mccallofthewild  asked:

"Can I kiss you?"

              lips pull tight into a smile and eyes fill with a warmth that he holds only for scott.   his best friend and his boyfriend all rolled into one.   it never failed to gain a reaction when scott would   ASK  these things instead of just   doing   them.

         “   it’s not going to happen with you all the way over there.     he states, gesturing at the space between them, despite how small it actually is.   “   get over here,  you idiot.   you know i’d   never   say no to that.   “

mccallofthewild  asked:

Scotty just really needs to pet Albert's cheek. So he does, right in front of everyone. He doesn't care how awkward it might seem.

            “   so you all know what you’re doing, rig—-      albert’s words are cut short from the small tap he feels against his cheek.  brows raise as he eyes scott who is standing beside him, eyes filled with warm adoration.  

albert clears his throat. 

  scott,   sweetheart.   i’m talking.   “ 

mccallofthewild replied to your post: �� /nando

“I know I should’ve forced you to work on your coordination instead of getting so distracted by the way you do those sit ups. It’s my fault, really.”

“Trust me, this isn’t a coordination problem.” He blushes lightly. He doesn’t want to admit that the reason he’d tripped is because he was so busy staring at Scott’s ass in front of him.

Wild Run

@mccallofthewild

Philip just wanted to run. It felt good, stretching his legs and trying to move as fast as he could. He would turn back later, he couldn’t miss the curfew or Kane would be furious, but he had some time. He could keep running. 

Philip tripped, rolling along his side with the speed he’d been running. It took time, the haze of falling clouding his mind until he could pick himself back up, sitting on his knees. “Shit.”

It wasn’t that he hurt himself, a skinned forearm that would be completely healed in a few days. It was more the smell of Alpha- it was no root or rock that tripped him. But the smell. He turned on his toes, brown eyes wide as he looked. 

“Who’s there?”

@mccallofthewild answered your ask:

Scott arched his brow at the other boy’s suggestion. He wasn’t used to him approaching him. Or speaking in general, so it was surprise when he approached him and asked for them to work together. Scott smirked at Philip, giving a nod. “Yeah, sure. You can do sit ups, right? You look pretty thin.”

Philip pursed his lip. So he wasn’t as buff as some as the guys on the lacrosse team, but back in The Projects when he lived with his mother, he had fit right in. Still, his chest fluttered, the idea that Scott - McCall- had noticed his frame excited him. “I might be slow to start but I can do it. And you?

A Little Fall of Red

@mccallofthewild

He had his binder in his lap. Philip liked pretending to do homework, while the teachers watched. It was nice that they left him alone, like hell this kid was trying. But his mind raced too much, he couldn’t focus on his freaking remedial maths. It was useless. He could do tip, that was all that he needed. For now, his mind busy, eyes racing over the streets.

He knew those guys. He’d asked Scott- McCall- before, he said not to call 911 when he was dropped off at the fosters, but now they were back. Big ass guns, big ass muscles, and Philip was freaking out. How could Scott just approach them?

Like what they were was nothing. Like he was some invincible shit head and he could handle this?

He couldn’t. And Philip hated being proved right. The scream tore his throat, an aching dry mess as he bolted across the street. 

“Scott. Scott, look at me!” Philip pressed his hands against Scott’s abdomen, truly freaking out. All he saw was red. Red, red red. Turning brown as Scott’s shirt absorbed the mess. “Holy shit, Scott.”

@mccallofthewild

Was kidnapping a thing someone could get used to?

Everything seemed far away. An oxygen match was strapped around his head, he had a feeling that’s the reason everything, everyone sounded far away. Someone had snapped his picture, or was it a video, the sleeve of his hoodie torn off but he didn’t have the will to do more than roll his head and stare at them. 

He remembered a struggle. A car drove him and his bike off road, and he struggled to get away.

Someone talked about Scott McCall, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was just a really strange hospital- they had him down on an itchy bed, hand cuffed to the metal frame. That was useless. He sat and waited, maybe they’d diagnose him or something. He noticed the odd yelling, the sound of concrete scratching, but he stared. 

Maybe it was just a really shitty hospital.