sock hockey

anonymous asked:

Can we hear more stories? Because your stories are the best.


So first things first if you want to know how to say “SACABAH” out loud, go out and find a Culver’s, get a triple bacon deluxe, eat a full tray of pot brownies, wait half an hour, try to shove that entire goddamn burger in your mouth at once, then try to scream “SOCK COMBAT” at the top of your lungs with your mouth full. This is how Josh came up with the idea of SACABAH and it was our last resort for settling roommate disputes.

Basically in the hell pit that was our apartment, we would sprint through a short list of solutions and discussions to solve any problems between us before we arrived at SACABAH.

  1. If one of the disputers was that week’s King of the Cock (determined by a weekly tournament in a randomly selected EA Sports game and designated by the possession of a giant pink dildo glued to the end of a walking stick), they were automatically right
  2. Talk it out like the adults we regularly told our parents we were.
  3. Compromise.
  4. Roommate vote, incredibly ineffective because there was an even number of us

If none of these steps led to a solution we moved on to SACABAH which also had a lot of rules, mainly because of previous instances of SACABAH where we didn’t have some of these rules.

  1. Combat was held in the living room. If you left the living room you forfeit.
  2. Combatants must wear protective headgear, a mouth guard, and a cup. Gloves are optional, but recommended, and additional protective gear will be allowed on the basis of how cool it looks.
  3. Combatants are allowed one sock of their choosing, filled with a substance of their choosing.
  4. The sock can be attached to the end of a pole or stick to increase range, but each time you strike your opponent with your pole it is a foul. 4 fouls and you forfeit.
  5. You may bring 2 items from your room to place strategically in the living room as either cover or as a hazard.
  6. No using noncombatants as shields.
  7. No condoms. This was instituted after Josh put on a condom and tried to cock slap Paul for 25 minutes. Fun fact, it’s pretty hard to stay hard when you’re trying to cock slap someone as they swing a sock full of marbles at you, so Josh was also furiously masturbating for those 25 minutes.
  8. No putting the socks over your own body. This was made surprisingly not after the cock slap incident but after Josh bought thigh highs so that he could literally kick the shit out of Eric.
  9. All weapons have to be approved by at least 2 of the noncombatant roommates. This was because of the cock slap incident as well.
  10. No going full Canadian. This was instituted after I filled a hockey sock with pucks and tied it to the end of a hockey stick and became unstoppable for two weeks. Every time I participated in SACABAH I tried to go full Canadian again but I was shot down, except for one time, and that’s what this story is about.
  11. One song played on loop until the fight ended. This was our original song choice until THIS came out and we decided to alternate between the two match by match, technically three if you include the Gaeilge version.
  12. No grabbing your opponent by the balls. That’s an automatic forfeit.
  13. Fights go until someone forfeits, someone surrenders, or 3 of 4 judges declare a combatant unable to continue.

So in like March, Eric and I had a pretty significant issue with each other because of some incorrect relationship decisions he had made. He was dating one of my exes, which normally for us wasn’t a big deal, but she had cheated on me twice and then dumped me when I called her on it, so there was pretty significant animosity between the two of us. The issue between Eric and I wasn’t about if he should date her or not; he’s a grown ass adult and is allowed to make his own terrible decisions. The issue was that I declared that she wasn’t allowed over ever because I never wanted to see her again and I didn’t trust her in my house, even with other people there. He thought I was overreacting, and I thought he was being an inconsiderate fuck. This led to the initiation of our dispute system which didn’t go well. Paul won our Madden tournament that week, so we had to actually compromise, which neither of us were willing to do, so we moved on to the vote. Kyle and Paul sided with me in the vote, but Brad thought this girl was nice, and Josh just wanted to watch us fight so we split the vote.

So two days after the vote, Eric and I gear up and meet in the living room where we all discover that he is literally the smartest one of all of us because he has two pool balls in a pair of stockings. He had made SACABAH nunchucks and it was fucking awesome.

So I had attempted to go full Canadian again, because obviously why not and Josh and Kyle argued that if we were to allow fucking nunchucks I should be allowed to use my favorite. Plus, Josh pointed out that if Eric got within 3 feet of me I was basically fucked because I wasn’t allowed to hit him with the stick, which was something that literally none of the guys had thought of before that moment.

I lived with geniuses.

So we go to our corners in the living room and Brad reminds us of the rules and we begin our fight. We both come out of our corners and immediately I wind up and swing as hard as I possibly can at Eric’s knees, because 1 I am an asshole and 2 I genuinely wanted to hurt him.

I catch him on the inside of his left knee and his leg literally snaps out from underneath him. I took him out in one swing, and he had been talking for three days about how he was going to fuck me up.

Anyways, Eric is on the ground crying because I just destroyed his leg with a sock full of pucks and I’m parading around the apartment roaring at the top of my lungs because I won and that means I needed to celly and after like 20 minutes of me gloating like a fuck we load him into Paul’s truck and drive him to the hospital and he gets a big ass cast on his leg because I broke his femur and we get back home at like 12:45 and he left his phone in the apartment and he has like a dozen texts from this girl.

She was talking about how he was a great guy and she was having fun but she didn’t like his friends (read: me) and she knew that if she told him to choose between her and us that he would always pick us so she was “making the decision for him” and breaking up with him and she sent him all of this literally an hour after we got to the hospital.

That was literally 4 years ago and Josh and I still to this day regularly ask him if he remembers the time I broke his leg over a girl that dumped him two hours later.

We’re a bunch of fucking savages.

Race ya

Not requested, but a quick little ice skating imagine with some fluff.


You’re back in Toronto with Shawn for the weekend, and you two decided to pick Aaliyah up from hockey practice.The cool air hits you as soon as you enter the rink. Shawn’s warm hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as he leads you toward the bleachers. You take a seat beside him, immediately searching the ice for Aaliyah, but in their gear, all the girls look the same. You still watch in awe, completely entertained by watching them scrimmage. Shawn lets go of your hand only to wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to himself and sharing his warmth with you. As the practice comes to an end, Shawn impulsively says to you, “Let’s skate." 

You look at him for a moment, checking to see if he’s really serious. You had planned to just come and pick up Aaliyah and then take her out to dinner with the two of you. Skating was never part of the plan. "The rink isn’t even open to the public right now.” You respond.

“I used to play hockey here all the time. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. The rink is usually empty for twenty minutes after practices before they resurface.” He confidently responds.

You used to love going to the ice rink near your house growing up. You’ve never skated with Shawn before, but suddenly it’s something you realize want to do. “Okay, if they don’t mind.” You shrug.

“Perfect, I’ll be right back.” He says with a grin before jogging down to the bottom of the bleachers and heading toward the front of the rink in search of someone who works here.

He’s back in less than ten minutes with two pairs of socks and hockey skates and the biggest smile on his face. “They said we have fifteen minutes before the Zamboni comes out.” He says, handing over the smaller skates. You pull the socks on, then put the skates on. As you’re lacing them up, you ask, “How did you know what size to get me?”

He just gives you this look, almost like he’s offended by the question, “Babe, i know your shoe size.” He tells you like there’s no way he wouldn’t.

“Oh, thanks. I didn’t know you knew it.” Because you haven’t been dating very long, and you’re almost positive you’ve never told him. He’s a lot more observant than you’ve given him credit for.

You’re both on the ice a couple of minutes later. You know Shawn played hockey, but you weren’t a stranger to ice skating growing up either, and you’re glad for that. Shawn grabs your hand in his before the leading you onto the ice. He’s pretty steady immediately, but it takes about half of a lap around for you to get the hang of it. After the first lap, you start picking up speed, and you catch the surprised look on his face before laughing and speeding up even more.

Once you reach the far end of the rink, you turn to Shawn, “Race ya,” You tell him, taking off before he has a chance to respond.

Of course, he catches up to you and wins, reaching the opposite end of the rink first, but when you get there a second later, he says, “Hey, you’re pretty good.”

“You have no faith in me.” You respond, purposely teasing him.

“I just didn’t know you skated.” He defends himself.

“Wanted me to have to lean on you for support.” You accuse.

He reaches for your hand, and you don’t protest, “Nah babe, I know you can support yourself.” He says, bringing up how independent you are and always have been. He pulls you a little closer, though, wrapping his arms around you. You hug him briefly before untangling yourself from his arms and grabbing onto one of his hands. You skate hand in hand, before letting go. You let him skate first and follow closely behind him, doing everything he does for a little while. He shows you crossovers and tries to teach you to skate backwards. It doesn’t work and you give up after a minute. “Shawn?” You ask, and he shoots you a questioning look. “Can you pull me?”

He laughs and shakes his head, but holds tight to your hand and starts pulling you along the ice for a while before eventually pulling you and letting go so you’d glide ahead. You laugh and playfully chase each other around the ice until you spot Aaliyah walk out from the locker room with a few of her teammates. She stops at the edge of the ice, saying goodbye to her teammates as they head for the exit. You check the time, and regretfully say, “I guess it’s time to go.” As you wave to Aaliyah, who just gives you and Shawn a confused look.

“One more lap,” Shawn says with a smile, before taking your hand and pulling you along at a leisurely pace.

Mad - Evgeni Malkin (PT Diaries, Episode 5)

Requested by anon: Saludations!! I was thinking about the PT Diaries series and I was wondering if we could make requests/give ideas for future chapters because I would really like to read a chapters in which the Pens are playing against Minnesota and after an ugly hit, (y/n) has to treat urgently Zach Parise and after that he is flirty and Geno and the team are having it. Tbh I just hope you continue it soon! Have a good weekend beautiful

A/N: I’m so so so so sorry, I suck at being consistent and I know you requested this a hundred years ago. I hope you like it though. I know, big cliff hanger, sorry not sorry. 

And thank you so much for all the support I’ve been getting, it’s amazing and I love you!

Word count: 1359

Warnings: none (actually yes. A swear word).

Episode 1  Episode 2  Episode 3  Episode 4

Master list

Originally posted by puckducky

I’m standing on the hall that connects the bench and the ice, looking at the game. The Pens were playing the Minnesota Wild and the game has been tough to say the least; there have been three fights in the first period and it doesn’t seem like the second is going to be softer for the players.

I take my eyes off the eyes for a second and when I turn my head the only thing I can see is a huge fight going on and a player dressed in green is laying on the ice, not moving. The refs have a hard time putting distance between the players and I’m jump on the ice the second I’m allowed to, running between hockey players. I kneel next where Zach Parise, the man lying on the ice, is.

“Hi, Zach? Can you hear me?” I say, leaning in close to his head so I can hear his answer.

He doesn’t speak, but nods and I feel myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Are you hurting?” I ask.

“My leg.” His answer is short and I can tell that he is in a lot of pain; the hit must have been nasty. He needs to be taken out of the ice.

“What about your neck or back? Do they hurt? Do you feel both your arms and legs?” I wonder, trying to figure out if he is going to need a stretcher or not.

“It is just my thigh.” He says, prompting himself up on his elbows.

“Alright, let’s go and get it checked out.” I stand up and a couple guys from his team help him up and out of the ice, straight to the therapy room.

I’m quick to get everything ready but the time they come in. The room is extremely warm compared with the ice, so I rip my coat off my body and throw it on the floor. The boys leave Zack lying on the massage table and go right back to the ice.

“Let’s take your equipment off.” I say, standing next to where he is lying and starting to unlace his skates, taking them off. “Can you sit?”

“Yeah, of course.” He answers, sitting down slowly, grunting.

I take his helmet off and grab the hem of his jersey, tugging it a little to ask for permission. He just lifts his arms with a smile and I take his jersey off; thanks God, he is wearing a sports shirt under his pads. I take those off next, and then his hockey socks and leg protections. His pants are left and I help him up so he can take them off as well. He hops back on the table, wearing the shirt, compression boxers and socks.

“If I knew that a pretty lady was going to undress me today I’d have put more conditioner on, maybe a little more cologne as well.” He jokes and I smile, checking on his thigh.

It was bruising, badly, his thigh colored in a nasty shade of purple and black and green. I touch the area softly and he hisses, but doesn’t jerk away. It looks like a muscle injury, but it doesn’t seem like his bones are broken.

“I’m sure that you are going to be sore, but it is just a bruise.” I tell him, walking towards the freezer and grabbing an ice pack and walking back to him. “A huge nasty one, but just a bruise nonetheless.”


“(y/n).” I answer his unsaid question and he smiles. His smile fades when I press the icepack over his muscle.

“That’s a pretty name for a even prettier lady.” He compliments me and I laugh.

“That was sooooo cliché, Parise.” I say. “Hold this.”

He does what I say and I start picking up all his clothes and equipment and folding them nicely on a chair. He stares at me while I’m doing it, but he doesn’t say a word.

When I’m done, I grab an anti-inflammatory ointment from one of the cabinets and walk back to the table, where Zach is sitting holding the icepack.

“Can I?” I ask and he nods, putting the ice down.

The bruise is even bigger and blacker. I chew on my bottom lip while massaging the cream on his leg. He hisses again, his skin being too sensitive under my touch.

“Sorry.” I apologize and he shakes his head.

“Not your fault…” He just says, casually. “It was a dirty ass hit by Malkin.”

I raise my brows when he says that, but I don’t say anything back. I know Geno and I don’t think that he would ever do something to hurt someone on purpose; but I guess that he is not the same person on the ice that he is while I’m sticking needles on his knees.

I’m about to tell him that he can go to the locker room when the horn that indicates the end of the second period goes off.

“I should go.” He says, hopping off the table and walking towards his stuff.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll send someone to get it for you.” I say, walking him to the door.

The therapy room is located on the hall that goes to the Penguins locker room so when we walk out the players dressed in black are walking down the hallway.

“Hi, (y/n).” Conor Sheary waves at me and I smile.

“I better get going.” Zach says, leaning on the doorframe. “Thank you, beautiful.”

“Anytime.” I say and he takes off after leaning in and kissing my cheek.

I can feel myself blushing and I can’t help it but to smile. I’m about to get back inside when I see Geno standing there, looking at me. We stare at each other for what it seems like forever before he breaks eye contact and walks away.


Geno is going on a rampage, spending fifteen of the twenty minutes of the third period in the penalty box. Coach isn’t happy about it. Assistants are not happy about it. Flower isn’t happy about it. Even Sidney, who always defends Geno, is not happy about it. Hell, I’m even pissed at him.

The Penguins lose three to one and the main reason is because they have been in the power kill for most of the third period. I walk towards the hall and stand with the rest of the stuff, as we always do. The players walk down the hall, straight to the locker room, handing over sticks and gloves to the guys on the door. Only Sid and Geno are left when we hear a broken sound. Geno has broken his stick, hitting it against the wall. I roll my eyes and walk back into my office.

I’m about to leave when there is a knock on my door.

“Come in.” I say, leaving my coat back on the hook.

The door opens and Sidney comes in, pulling Geno with him. Sidney looks concerned and Geno looks pissed.

“What can I do for you, guys?” I ask politely, sitting back on my chair.

“Talk to this goon.” Sidney pushes Geno down on the chair in front on my desk and leaves the room without saying a word.

I blink repeatedly, not really getting what’s going on. Geno is looking to his hands on his lap and he doesn’t seem to have anything to say.

“Well… how can I help you, Evgeni?” I ask and he is quick to lift his head and look straight at my eyes.

“Evgeni? Why?” He sounds almost hurt.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” I say, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.

“Why?” He doesn’t seem to understand.

“Why did you decide that it was a good day to practice boxing?” I wonder and he drops his head again.

“I is… mad.” He struggles with his English, but I’m not having it.

“Why?” I keep pushing him.

“Because… because…” He struggles again. “Der’mo*.”

“Evgeni… I want to lea…” He cuts me off before I can finish my sentence.

“Because you can’t like other players.” He pretty much yells.

* - Shit

pb&j post specifically for @bisexualdinahlance, who put wonderful tags on this post, saying that Bitty should go pro and play on the same line as Jack and Parse… which would be… amazing…

  • It’s the Falcs, because lbr everyone wants the Zimms/Parse dream team but George is the only one to crack the code
    • Because she’s smart
    • And she can spot talent where other people brush it aside
    • And, hey, she had to watch some Samwell games when she was trying to recruit Jack and you can’t tell me she didn’t notice a certain tiny blond lightning bolt
  • The Aeros get to him first, which was annoying but ended up helping george out. Because now Bitty knows that she doesn’t just want him for his boyfriends
    • I mean sure, that’s part of it
    • But Bitty is so goddamned fast
    • (and also his pies are delicious)
  • So Bitty’s meeting with the Aeros people and saying “gosh” a lot and generally being surprised like the clueless sweetheart he is and all George has to do is show up like “do you know what would be a better team?” and Bitty is fucking sold
  • Parse is so proud of Bits and he loves skyping them together but now he’s stuck on one side of the country with his boyfriends on the other and shitty schedules between them. so George is like “I got a solution” and the Aces are like “YOU’RE NOT HAVING PARSON” and George is like “fucking watch me”
    • Kent looks good in blue
    • He’s just a cute, lovesick professional hockey player who wants to live in the same house with his boys and also still remembers those great times in the Q and knows how much better it could be with the three of them
    • But he mostly tells people it’s because he looks good in blue
  • None of the boys are big on fighting in hockey and they’re used to chirping so when the other side pisses them off they don’t drop gloves, but you know who does? Snowy the Goalie
    • He fights in all his goalie pads and stuff it’s like being assassinated by an angry marshmellow
    • Plus if Snowy’s fighting so is Tater
  • The SNOW in Providence though. Kenny’s all “what the ever-loving fuck” and Bitty’s like “ikr” and Jack’s like “stop”. 
    • They never stop
    • There are a lot of snowball fights
  • Kent is also fast okay. Bitty is faster, but Kenny is fast. Jack sometimes takes the responsibility to get the puck off the other side and sneak it to one of his boys. They’ll be up the other end in a flash, no one but the goalie to stop them
  • Bitty is the NHL king of assists tbh. He’s fast, small, unpredictable, and always has two of the best scorers nearby. Parse and Zimms have never had an easier job
  • The Falcs start calling Jack “Zimms” instead of “Zimmboni”. It’s an accident every time but when even Tater starts doing it, they give in and rename him
  • World cup though. Bitty missed Team North America which I’m sad about but!!! Team USA!Parse and Bitty and Team Canada!Jack
    • Jack’s doing it for his country
    • Bitty and Parse are in it to obnoxiously chant “U! S! A! U! S! A!” and buy too many american flag themed items for their house
  • Jack and Parse each pick up one main habit from their Bitty. Jack say’s “y’all” all the time. Parse learns figure skating
  • They win the Stanley Cup so many times. Listen, Bitty’s great at hockey and Jack and Parse are canonically amazing. I’m picturing the Falcs as the hockey equivalent of the All Blacks and you can’t convince me otherwise
  • Indoor hockey on their polished wooden floors in thick socks. Kit Purrson hissing at them from the bookshelves
    • Teaching the children they eventually have how to play indoor sock hockey with the little ones all in helmets in case they fall over
  • They may be on the same team but they all support different NWHL teams and get really passionate
    • Bitty supports the Pride, because Boston.
    • Jack automatically dislikes yellow Boston-based hockey teams as part of his Montreal heritage. He supports the Whale because Connecticut is closer
    • Parse ends up supporting the Riveters because he’s from New York State but doesn’t want to support the Beauts because Shitty’s already claimed them. Literally only because they’re called the Beauts. He’s from Boston what is he even doing
  • They’re all happy and in love


A Bellarke High School AU where Clarke is a figure skater and Bellamy is a hockey player and they are both fighting to use the rink.

Bellamy sucked in a deep breath and pushed himself forward.  He cut through an array of pylons and ignored the burning in his calves. He jerked his head up and slapped the ice with his stick, demanding the puck. He pulled down the pass easily and flicked the puck into the net, sending it sailing over the goalie’s shoulder. He collected the puck and skated back to the end of the line, urging the boys on as he did. 

“PUSH,” he called out. “Dig deep, boys- last minute!”

He leaned on his stick and watched the boys skate through the circuit.

“C’mon,” he shouted. “Keep the intensity up! Remember, practice how you play!”

He was just about to call time when he heard a high-pitched whistle from behind him. He turned around to see Clarke standing at centre-ice.


…or read on here: 

Keep reading

Hockey Luke (Chapter Sixteen)

next chapter, wooo.

hope everyone enjoys!

IMPORTANT im going to be going away for three weeks, and i wont have as much access to a computer. chapters will be written on my phone (they might not be as good) and whenever i get a chance to use the computer i wall upload a new chapter

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five |  chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen | chapter fourteen | chapter fifteen

So on that day that I was cuddling on the couch with Luke, we had actually lost track of time and he had realized that he had to go home. Although, he had made me forget about the pain that occupied my lower abdomen which I was extremely grateful for.

“Thanks,” I grinned at him as I watched him pull on his shoes, standing up straight and grabbing his hockey bag once he was done. “You actually really helped. And I’m sorry that you had to miss practice.”

He scoffed. “Seriously, don’t worry about. It wasn’t a very important practice.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? Don’t you need to practice? You guys might get kicked out of the playoffs.” I teased. I knew very well that the team would make it.

“I thought you said that I was the best player on the team? Of course, nothing compared to you.” He grinned. I felt myself blush lightly at the compliment. “I said you were one of the best. And still, you need practice. What if someone better comes along?” I grinned; lifting myself off the wall I was leaning against and walking over to him.

“Well,” Luke said, tilting his head down slightly as I neared him. “Then we’ll have a problem.” I kept walking closer to him, feeling a random burst of confidence. “Cal’s better than you.” I said, tilting my head slightly to the side as if teasing him. I wanted to see the reaction this would get out of him.

And if fact, I did get a reaction out of him. His eyes widened slightly at first, and the corner of his lips perked up to a smirk. “No,” He dropped his big hockey back on the floor, landing with a loud bang. His hands now free, he reached forward to grab hold of me. I was close enough for his hands to easily grab at my hips, pulling me flush against him. “I don’t think he is.” He grunted lowly, mouth moving down next to my ear as he nibbled on my earlobe. “And I know you don’t think he is either.”

I moved my head away from the closeness it had to his, looking up to meet his eyes. My hands were still at my sides, making no contact with Luke, but his grip on my hips had pulled our torsos against each other. I bit my lip, smirking up at him. He bowed his head down, our forehead bumping together and leaning down as if to kiss me but I leaned back again, moving away from him.

I heard a small groan leave the back of his throat, making my smirk grow. “What about Mark?” I whispered, and he whipped his head up, meeting my eyes. Luke seemed to get slightly pissed off at my words, clearly tensing up. “Mark’s a piece of shit.”

I had to laugh out loud at his words. I mean, he wasn’t wrong. “Yeah,” I breathed out, once my laughing had died down. “That’s true.” We were standing there; his hands still had a firm grip on me as our hips were pressed up against each other, in silence. I met Luke’s eyes again, and they seemed to be searching my face, flicking between my eyes. “What?” I whispered, talking about the look he was giving.

“I just really want to kiss you.” He whispered, shy smile on his lips. I raised an eyebrow at him, staying at the same distance from him. “Then why don’t you do it?” I tilted my head to side, small smirk playing at my lips.

A small smirk now appeared on his lips as well. “You know very well why. You’re a tease, princess.” I felt my breath hitch in my throat at his words, subconsciously moving myself closer to him.    

That’s all the permission he needed, he leaned down to me once again, nose brushing over mine own as he pressed his lips on mine. We had only kissed that one time when he took me by surprise in the hotel room, and this kiss was much better. Like last time, the first thing I felt was his lipring but as soon as his lips moved on mine, the extra pressure was forgotten.

His lips skimmed over mine at first, the pressure light. But as one of my hands snaked up behind his neck, fingertips playing the hair at the base of his neck, the pressure amplified. It was like something flared up inside of me, igniting an almost burning like sensation inside of me. He pulled back too soon in my opinion, sucking my bottom lip gently between his before releasing it. “I should really get going.” He whispered, lips grazing over mine as he spoke.

I almost wanted to groan out loud, really not wanting him to leave. Of course, I restrained myself. “Okay,” I simply said, although the disappointed my obvious in my tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said, taking my hand off from behind Luke’s neck and taking a step back, his own hands dropping to his sides. He went to grab at his bag again, walking towards the front door. “Yeah,” He said, as I unlocked and opened the door for him.

“See you tomorrow princess.” He grinned, using that name for the second time today. He was probably using it again, noticing the affect it had on me the last time. Still, I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “What’s with the pet names?” I called, before he could leave out of earshot.

He simply grinned, not giving me a straight answer. “See y’a later, princess.”

My cramps had left by the next day. Usually they were for one or two days, and this time I was lucky with only having them for one. I mean, I haven’t had them yet.

So of course, the school day was much less painful without the cramps. (Still painful though.) Still, after school I headed over the rink just like any other day. I also always ended up doing my homework there. We had to take the bus today; since Ashton wasn’t here to we couldn’t get a ride.

Calum was currently freaking out because he was sure that we were going to be late. “You won’t be late.” I assured, watching as the guys made their way out of the locker room. Calum gave you a skeptical look, as he basically sprinted to the side doors that led to the rink, skates in hand as he sock clad feet glided on the floor. He soon disappeared after turning the corner.

Luke however, took his time. He stood next to me as we walked towards the same doors Cal had just left behind. “You don’t seem as worried as Calum.” I said, striking up a conversation.

“Nah,” Luke said, grin on his lips as he looked down at you. “It’s fine. I bet they haven’t even started warming up yet.” The both of us were nearing the door, but before I could reach forward to pull it open, a hand that grabbed at my arm stopped me.

Luke’s free hand, that wasn’t holding his skates, held onto me, making me turn around to look at him. I raised an eyebrow at him, neither of us speaking. I hadn’t seen him at school today (I usually don’t), and yesterday’s events were fresh in my mind. “Does your stomach still hurt?” I shook my head. “Nope, I haven’t had any cramps all day.”

He nodded; taking a small step closer to me and without warning pressed a chaste kiss on my lips. It lasted about two seconds, lacking the desperation of yesterday’s kiss but still had the same effect on me.  “Sorry,” Luke muttered once he pulled back. “I can’t get enough of you.”

I felt my heart well at his words, and my cheeks blushing once again. I didn’t know what to say, so I simply leaned up, pressing another short kiss against his lips. I stepped back, pulling out of his grip. “You have to go to practice.”

He nodded. “I know. I’ll see you again after practice.” He said, walking away from me towards the entrance that led onto the ice. He didn’t even have his skates on, but I assumed he was going to put them on once on the benches. “Princess.” He added, shooting you a small grin before turning the corner.

I rolled my eyes at the name, heading towards the bleachers where I usually sat myself down to watch and do homework.

So I hadn’t actually been able to do any work, I kept finding myself doodling on the corner of my notes or  zoning out as I started at my blank workbook on my lap. I hadn’t even realized it, but practice had ended, and snapping out of one my many dazes, I stood up to go wait for my friends by the changing room.

Like I had said earlier, Ashton wasn’t here today and since he was the only one with a car, the four of us had to take to bus home. I ended up  on the seat next to Luke’s, since Calum was a little shit and decided to take the seats near the front of the bus with Michael.

The ride was short, and quiet. Calum wanted to stop off at the mall (which was pretty close to the rink) to get some new socks for hockey, since he claimed that all of his disappeared. Since I was an expert procrastinator, I decided to go with him and the guys since I really did not want to get started on my homework.

“You and Luke seemed pretty cozy on the way here.” Calum muttered to me as we made our way through the mall. I rolled my eyes at him, not really wanting to talk about this with him. Of course, he said it loud enough for Michael to hear as well. “What’s happening between you and Luke?” He asked, coming to walk on Calum’s other side. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything, going back to where he was walking next to Luke.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N?” He directed his question to Luke this time. I shot Calum a glare for bringing it up in the first place.

“What?” Luke seemed caught off guard by the question. Even though I was annoyed, I turned around to look at Luke as well. We hadn’t exactly talked about this. Like sure, he knew that I liked him and I knew that he liked me but nothing else really happened past that point. “Apparently you guys are getting cozy?” Michael waggled his eyebrows at Luke, hide meaning very clear.

I saw Luke grin. “We’re just hanging out.” He said easily. I turned around, looking forward again.

Just hanging out? What the hell did that even mean? I was mad at myself for reacting like this. I hated being like this but I couldn’t help but feel a pang when he said that.

Wasn’t he just saying that he “couldn’t get enough of me?” Still, I kept my cool, tight smile on my lips as I change the subject of the conversation among us.