Captain Awkward Novels & Stories

A bead of sweat could drop from my body, and I'd fucking hear it. Great. Abso-fucking-lutely awesome. And once again, I'm stunned and stuck to the spot. Like a fucking deer. ~ "Hey, slowpoke." The guy with the blonde hair and green eyes from before slaps my padded shoulder as we skate out. "I'm not slow." I snort, already annoyed. What's wrong with that prick of a captain? And I still don't know his stupid name. Another dark-haired guy peels the blonde-haired guy's hand off me.

“If we had put that rule from the beginning, maybe we wouldn’t be here.” He chuckled right after. Stretched his hand towards me and I slipped my hand in his. “We’re good?” He asked, his perky tone calming my nerves. “Of course we are” I answered, drowning the voice in my head to say the truth that I wasn’t good about it, that his lips had set something in me that my brain was trying so hard to supress. *** The following days were filled with an awkward silence. I moved around only when I was sure he wasn’t in the room, my eyes tried to follow him whenever he walked down the hall so we wouldn’t bump into one another and for some reason, it hurt, it hurt like hell.

He chuckled as he remembered Jim grunting in frustration after Wilson had asked a question and Jim remembered that his smartwatch would have been able to just show all the holographic images, only if it was not dead. "Sir!" The soldier saluted. "At ease, lieutenant!" The superior, a captain by rank, said calmly. "Sir, this here, is Wilson and he claims to have survived the one-eyed beast attack, sir." "Standby!" The captain looked at Wilson and says. "Sit down, Wilson." Wilson sat down, compelled to say thank you. "Thank you, sir!" "What's your full name?" "Wilson Wilder." "Where did you come from?" "A Faraway village." Wilson answered, unwilling to mention Forest City or the Revolutionaries

The back of my shirt is already sticking to my back. “Golden Boy, are you asking me to strip for you?” Mave makes a gagging sound. My face flushes. Why would he say that here with people listening? Why would he say that at all? “Didn’t I tell you that the Captain is not an ass licker? You are disgusting the poor guy.” Mave grumbles. I don’t turn around to look at him, I keep my eyes on my feet, taking deep breaths to find my center again. The refuge camp is completely worn out but the floors are lacking the holes for me to disappear through.

Alex dropped into the chair, stiff. The captain leaned back in his creaky seat, studying him like he was trying to read a messy report. Reeves was built like an old linebacker gone soft, gut straining his shirt buttons, gray hair thinning on top. Twelve years as captain meant he’d seen nearly everything. Alex used to find comfort in that steady presence.

Wake up you sluts!.” Captain growled, splashing water on them. Tina and Meredith scrambled up. their torn clothes were wet, clinging to their skin. Captain’s pulse raced as his dick hardened. “The only person who’s on a holiday here is…” he pointed at himself. He smirked at Tina, his eyes lingering on her breast. Tina scowled and crossed her arms over her chest as she gathered her knees to herself. “Not happy to see me? Or were you beginning to think i would never show up,” Captain said aloud, dragging Tina’s to the iron bar violently with the chain tied to her ankle.

“I’m not exactly a sports person.” “You will be after tonight. The energy is addictive. Hawthorne versus Westfield is always brutal—especially because of the captains. Brad Walker versus Sebastian Hale. Pure rivalry.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sebastian Hale?” “Captain of Westfield. Tall, insanely talented, and actually a decent guy from what I’ve heard not the cocky asshole type like Brad and his crew. The stands go wild whenever he’s on the ice. Total heartthrob material.” She winked. “You’ll see why.”

―He stays with me. ―Yes but—‖ he glanced at Jeremy who was focusing on his toy—―what about us. You know. It is our wedding night.‖ Her eyes grew wide. ―Oh. Don‘t worry about that. I understand. You don‘t have to feel awkward about it.‖ ―Awkward about what?‖ ―Your inability to...consummate the marriage.‖ ―My inability to what?‖ he shrieked.

But I controlled myself, and instead, I locked the screen and shoved it back into my pocket so hard it almost hurt my hand. “Captain?” I looked up immediately. One of the rookies was staring at me awkwardly. “You okay?” I realized too late that my expression probably looked insane. I forced a smile onto my face. “Yeah. A friend is being stupid. He was duped by his partner.” The rookie laughed nervously. “Ah, I see. Relationship problems?” “You could say that,” I replied with a convincing smile. He nodded like he understood before quickly escaping toward baggage claim. “Such a coward.”

“At least you’ve held your age. You don’t look a day over twenty.” “You should move seats,” she teased. “I think the sun is in your eyes.” “You’re just as beautiful as the day I first asked you out,” he said with a wicked grin. Their conversation was cut short when the Captain stepped up on deck. He wore a pair of jeans and a pullover knit sweater rather than his trademark uniform and across his shoulder was a small black backpack. “We will be going ashore, unless you need us,” the man asked, his grey mustache curling in his mouth as his deep French accent held a cheerful tone.