Captain Awkward Novels & Stories

his voice a low drawl, powerful enough to falter a soul. My lips felt dry, and I could feel trickles of sweat rolling down my spine. I didn’t feel brave anymore, not when I could feel the heated gaze at the back of my head. My eyes found Zale, his lips slowly turning pale, I could tell Knox was squeezing too hard. “Let him go,” I said, my voice softer. Stupider. He didn’t move, “and if I don’t?” he was taunting. I mean he should, what was I going to do against him? He was the captain of the hockey team, his name a legacy in these walls.

“I was shooting from the side like they told me. If you didn’t want to look bad maybe don’t lean into every hit like you’re trying to break the boards.” He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. God, he smelled like sweet sweat and something expensive, and it made my stomach flip even while I wanted to smack him. “You think this is a joke? This team’s got eyes on us. Sponsors. Scouts. I need to look like a captain, not some sloppy asshole in bad lighting. Redo the set or pack your shit.” “I’m not redoing anything until you stop acting like a diva,” I shot back, chin up even though my voice wobbled a little. “I know what I’m doing. Maybe try not glaring at the camera next time and you won’t look lik

Matt called out to the crowd, his voice dripping with absolute amusement. On the right side of the aisle, a group of Matt’s rowdy hockey teammates erupted into cruel laughter, slapping each other on the back. Older relatives in the back rows simply stared, their mouths open in utter disbelief. Wealthy socialites leaned into each other, whispering furiously behind their manicured hands, while a few of Ryan’s older teammates looked deeply uncomfortable, their eyes dropping to the floor out of sheer pity.

"May I just remind you that Dr. Rosella Hawl is already taken. Wouldn't want a World War III with the Richforte's right?" "Hey, it's not what you think—" He stops me by putting his other hand up. Then he suddenly smiles— that smile that I usually saw to— gays! He slid his hand to Captain Welton's chest as if seducing him and I can't hide my laugh when I hear his voice and see the look on his eyes, making Captain Welton step back. "W-what the hell are you doing—" "Captain," I cover my mouth with my hand to suppress my laugh. "You know, if you want, I can give you a service. You don't have to steal Dr. Hawl, I'm just here, daddy."

I wanted to make a salute, but apparently, the chair didn't allow me to. "This is detention, Meow," said the captain. "And that chair there is your throne." "You're not going to drill my brains out, are you?" I asked and realized I had forgotten to address him. "Sir." "Just a little something to make you behave," the captain said and nodded at the guy beside me. I watched him grab a remote and press buttons. Then, I heard myself scream. --- Shut your mouth, dumbass! Shut it! Shut it! Shut it!

Flapping over his partner’s face and eyes, Allen observed her thin lips press together into a pronounced frown at its provocation. “Quit your grousing, Witch.” The Captain snarled over his shoulder, “You’re lucky I even agreed to let you aboard my vessel.” Possessing many of the characteristics one might expect from a naval man, the Captain hid a sneer under the thick whiskers of his beard as he gripped the wheel agitatedly with his calloused hands. A stocky man of square build, the ship’s captain was a gruff and unhospitable individual. Making his resentment known since they had embarked, Allen was not surprised that he was all but sympathetic towards their complaints.

I smiled but pressed my lips when Aliyah creased her forehead, not liking how I described them. I narrowed my eyes, gazing at the two men in front of me. “Frank’s the Captain America, and Finn’s the Superman.”

The sheets are cool, soft, and I curl against them with a satisfied sigh. Sleep comes easy. Until it doesn’t. A weight dips the mattress. Heat presses against my back. A large hand slides over my waist. I jerk awake, breath catching. “What the—” “Shhh.” My stomach knots as I twist my head. Moonlight cuts across his face—the sharp jaw, the devilishly handsome smirk, the scar slashing through his left eye. The Captain.

It was still there, simmering under the surface, possessive and controlled and entirely too intense. “Marcus,” Ward called without looking away from me, “leave.” Marcus looked between us, smirking despite his obvious pain. “Well, I’m your best friend, so I don’t see why I have to miss the reunion scene.” “Marcus.” Ward’s tone dropped lower, colder, carrying that command I had only heard in fragments before. Not the hockey captain. Not the man from our past. This was the businessman who could make rooms fall silent with a single word. I exhaled and rubbed my temple. The emotional whiplash of the day was beginning to catch up with me.

Oh my God. It dawned on me at that moment… Lucas already lost the captain's title… There's no way Coach is letting Kianeffing Maddox go. “Everyone gather around.” The coach's voice came as he hugged Scott, “That's my boy. I am really proud of you.” “And to everyone on the team. We have our new MVP and captain of the team. Kian Maddox.” The coach announced. The rink erupted with cheers and whistles. Lucas threw his helmet on the floor, getting everyone's attention.