Captain Witwicky Novels & Stories

He whistled, and more than a dozen people with rubber suits got out of the car. The captain said coldly, "I'll say it one last time. Get out of the way, or we'll be rude to you!" "You're welcome. I'll give it a try!" Swoosh— The leader's face was full of disdain. He waved his left hand and placed it on the captain's head. "Left... left wheel?" The captain was shocked when he saw the thing blocking his head.

He pulled the chair closer and sat, reaching for my hand without hesitation, his fingers wrapping loosely around mine, warm and grounding. "You didn't have to bring flowers," I said. "I did, actually. It's tradition. You show up at a hospital, you bring flowers. Everybody knows that." "Is that a real rule?" "It's my rule. Which makes it real." He glanced down at my ankle, propped and wrapped beneath the blanket, and something softer moved across his face. "Guess this means our fake date might need a wheelchair." I laughed despite myself, a real one this time, and it pulled slightly at my side. "That's one way to make an entrance."

One in particular caught my eye. Dante Kade. Captain. Number 17. Ice-blue eyes. A name that came with a hundred headlines and at least five fangirl forums I pretended not to browse. He looked lethal. The kind of lethal that made smart girls run and stupid girls fall. I wasn’t here to do either. I tore my eyes away from the poster and squared my shoulders. The heel of my boot clicked against the tile with more attitude than I felt. I could fake it. I’d faked worse.

"W.I.K.D is offering a big bonus to turn you in. I could retire, leave this shitty city and find somewhere else..." "You and I both know—" I began to stutter, seeing a woman with dark hair about Binns from behind. He must have seen her reflection in my eyes, he pulled another firearm from his waist, veering around as he pointed it behind him, but this woman was quick, and he was face to face with her muzzle. Pulling the firearm from under my shirt, I pointed it at both of them, who was she? I don't know. "What's this?" He stared at her, "I am your Captain... Head Detective,"

Instead I felt like shit, like a total failure. “It’s okay guys, you don’t need to do this” I said. “Do what?” Xyla replied, pretending like she knew nothing of what I was talking about. Just at that time, the teacher walked in and classes began, I couldn’t stop glancing over at Emory, he had his head down and barely paid attention to the class. Ofcourse no one bothered him, he was the captain of the hockey team and his grades were just enough to keep him in the team.

Maybe I should’ve, but… I didn’t want to shatter whatever this strange, safe little bubble we were in was. So I just nodded slowly and let the silence settle back in. He noticed, of course. Noticed the pause. The tension. The unspoken weight lingering in the air like a storm cloud that hadn’t quite broken yet. And then, like the master deflector he clearly was, Captain leaned forward and smirked. “You know,” he said, picking up the comic I’d tossed aside, “you’re lucky I like you.” “Why’s that?” “Because if it were anyone else disrespecting my collection like this—” he flipped through the pages with exaggerated care— “I’d throw hands.”

to feel at ease with the captain in the past two days of their interaction. The majority of the crew are terrified of him, but the captain is displaying his kind side and wit with her. She wondered, "Maybe one day I will see what the other crew told me about him. What she noticed, though, is that he is a man of few words. When he looks, he looks so deep that you can feel that he wants to say something. His eyes were like fire, and Annika got burned by the way he stared at her. "Thank you for this beautiful coffee. Now my day is complete. " He told her Annika didn't want to interpret every word he said, but she couldn't help but wonder why the captain said I made his day complete. Was it bec

“As long as you take care of it, I am sure it won’t affect my life. You have magic hands, Dr. Vance.” I glared at him but pointed to the treatment table. “Sit down. Let me clean it.” As I worked on his leg, carefully cleaning the wound and applying ointment, my mind wandered. I recalled how stubborn Ward was, how he loved riding motorcycles too. I wondered how he had handled the cops the previous night. Had they really taken him away? Was he okay? I sighed softly, pushing the thoughts away. I finished bandaging Jax’s leg just as the office door burst open again.

The video zoomed in close right as Brayden leaned down and pressed that slow, deliberate kiss against my flushed cheek. The caption across the bottom of the screen read: Star hockey captain drops the gloves on his own identical twin brother over a freshman. The drama is drama-ing at Berkeley. "The comments are absolutely brutal, by the way," the pink-haired girl whispered, her voice dripping with a mix of excitement and fake sympathy. "The campus gossip pages are already reposting it everywhere. Half the athletic boards are calling you a total homewrecker, and the hockey groupies are basically labeling you a puck-bunny who manipulated her way into the captain’s penthouse apartment."

“Well, duh. Wasn't he the one who said he’s the leader and we’re the henchmen?’ one of the men obliviously grumbled to me with a huff. “I know. But look at him fumbling now,” I replied casually. “Pffft. I should’ve been the leader of our group.” I snorted derisively before letting out my claws and slitting the man’s throat in a single second. “Ugh!” I quickly claimed the man’s gun and held him by the neck with my other hand. “What the fuck?” “What was that?!” “Fuck! It’s Wick! It’s Wick!” “What?!” “Boss! Boss!”