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DAD
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2026-08-23 10:25:07
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PUCKING MY ROOMMATE DAD
CHAPTER 92The car was suffocatingly hot from sitting in the sun, but neither of them turned on the AC immediately. Liam slumped into the passenger seat, his phone vibrating so violently against his thigh it felt like his leg was going numb. Notifications were flying in by the second— X clips, TikTok edits, sports blog headlines, and endless text messages from the rest of the team.‘Lannister pulled up the stats on live TV!’‘Kane got cooked, bro!’‘Captain went full rabid dog!’Liam stared at his screen, his face burning a bright, embarrassed red as an eight-second clip replayed for the fourth time: him, leaning into his microphone, his eyes dark and deadly as he laid out Victor Kane's minus-four rating.Oh god. Look at me. I look like a crazy person. I look like a medieval warlord defending his castle. I'm the Captain! I'm supposed to be calm, composed, and professional! Like Vance was. What happened to my media training? What happened to 'we're just taking it one game at a time, Sa
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE CAMERA FACE OFF
CHAPTER 91The media auditorium was chaotic. Fluorescent lights reflected on the white press table set up on the raised stage, and the dark lenses of a lot of cameras. The room buzzed with the low, frantic energy of sports journalists checking their recorders, testing microphones, and whispering among themselves.The cameras reminded Liam of Aria. He'd call her later.He adjusted the collar of his team polo as he took his seat on the far left.Great. Sitting on cheap folding chairs under heat lamps while over thirty strangers stare at us. My absolute favorite way to spend my day.Raphael pulled out the chair right beside him, completely unbothered, settling his broad frame into the seat with the lazy grace of a cat. On the far right end of the table sat Damian Vance, the new Shadow Reapers Captain, looking stiff and painfully formal in his navy blazer. And right beside Vance was Viktor Kane.Kane was already leaning back in his chair, a smug, punchable grin plastered across his face a
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE VIKTOR KANE IS WAITING
CHAPTER 90The post-practice energy in the locker room was high, loud, and suffocatingly hot. Guys were yelling over each other, throwing towels, and slamming heavy equipment bags onto wooden benches.Liam sat on his bench in his damp compression shirt and shorts, bent double to unlace his skates. Sweat dripped off his nose onto the floorboards. Beside him, Raphael was casually stripping off his elbow pads and tossing them into his stall.Get through practice. Go home. Don't think about Monday. That was the mental script Liam had been reciting to himself all morning.Then the heavy wooden door swung open with a sharp, violent bang against the wall."Lannister! Thorne! In the corridor. Now."Coach didn't even step into the room. He just stood in the doorway, holding the handle with a grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white. The temperature in Liam's blood plummeted instantly. The noise in the locker room dropped by half, several teammates glancing over in sudden curiosity.Liam’s
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE YES CAPTAIN!
CHAPTER 89By eleven o'clock, the suffocating mood from Coach’s office had finally worn off.Their heavy hockey bags were dumped by the front door, the steam from two back-to-back showers had cleared out of the hallway, and an open box of sausage and pepper pizza sat on the kitchen island. Liam sat on a barstool in a faded gray hoodie and soft sweatpants, his damp dark hair sticking to his forehead. He picked at the crust of his second slice, staring blankly at the grease soaking through the cardboard base.He’d tried to let it go. Trust me, he'd tried. He’d tried to listen to Raphael in the car when he told him to take a breath and chill out. But Liam’s brain was built like a film-room projector—it couldn't just turn off, and right now, it was replaying the day on a loop.Liam set his crust down, picked up a paper towel, and wiped his fingers. "I know you said it's simple, Raph. I know you told me to chill out in the car. But we need an actual, solid excuse for Monday. We can't jus
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE IT CAN BE TRANSFERRED WITH A KISS
CHAPTER 88"Good work today, boys," Coach’s voice trailed after them as the heavy oak door clicked shut behind them."Thanks Coach." Raphael answered dryly.Liam stepped out into the hallway, his boots hitting the linoleum like lead weights. The chaos in his head was almost like a late night club.This weekend. Three or four days max. That was all the time Coach had given them before tearing down safe space Liam had come to have, neatly wrapping it up as some kind of generous favor.As they walked side by side down the narrow corridor, Liam kept his eyes locked straight ahead, but his mind was already spiraling out of control.Is he actually going to take it? The thought hit him like a physical blow to the ribs, taking the wind right out of his lungs. Would Raph just pack his bags and go? Would he just leave?Two months ago, if Coach had called him into the office and said Thorne was finally moving out of his space, Liam would have jumped for joy. He would have called it the most beau
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE THORNE IS MOVING OUT???
CHAPTER 87"Lannister. Thorne. My office. Now."Coach’s voice bellowed from the podium. They'd barely even turned on the lights after game tape, barely even stood up from their chairs.Liam’s boots locked to the floor. Fuck. The terror he’d managed to bury during game tape came roaring back, hot and suffocating in his throat. Why both of us? Why now? Had coach noticed how Raphael's eyes locked on me all through the game against the shadow Reapers? Or had someone seen the way Raphael’s hand had stayed glued to his thigh under the desk for twenty minutes?He knows, Liam’s brain screamed, the panic spiraling out of control. He knows about Raph. He knows about the past few days. He knows what I am.He felt Raphael shift beside him, infuriatingly calm, like a shadow stepping into place. Liam squeezed his eyes shut for a fraction of a second, forcing his pulse down. Stop it. Stop fucking spiraling. You’re the Captain. If you look guilty, you are guilty. Walk.He forced his chin up, squared
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE CHAPTER 1- Trouble moving in?
The locker room smelled like sweat, icy gel, and adrenaline. Liam Lannister sat on the bench, lacing his skates with sharp, precise tugs, jaw tight as he listened to the distant roar of the crowd filtering through the tunnel.Frostbite Wolves versus Shadow Reapers. The biggest rivalry in the league
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE CHAPTER 5- Go on...tell me how much you hate this....
The bass thumped through the walls of The Icehouse, the team’s favorite upscale club downtown. Neon blue and white lights pulsed across the crowded dance floor, reflecting off glass tables and mirrored columns like shards of ice. The Wolves had reserved the entire VIP section — bottle service flowi
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE CHAPTER 4- Does he own a fucking shirt?
The arena lights hummed overhead as the team took the ice for morning practice. The cold air bit at Liam’s exposed skin, but he welcomed it. it sharpened his focus. He skated out first, stick tapping against the ice, calling out positions for the warm-up drills. Captain’s job. Always had been.Raph
PUCKING MY ROOMMATE CHAPTER 3 - Hands on training
Liam’s eyes snapped open at 4:07 AM, the same time his internal alarm had gone off for years. The room was still dark, the city outside the window quiet except for the occasional distant hum of traffic. He lay there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, before the weight of the new realit
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