Captain Witwicky Mga Nobela at Kwento

“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.”

PASHIKA's POV:- Why is everything turning out to be like this? Never in my wildest dream, had I ever thought of him as part of this evil game. Vicky! Who almost ruined me in every way? Vicky is Vikranth's first in command. From his teenage years, Vicky was with him. Drugs, gambling, and alcohol lured him towards this evil man, Vikranth.

Looking at his messages, all wagging tail like a big dog, I thought back to how he'd been all afternoon, eyes on nothing but the puck. The guy wasn't actually mean-hearted. He was just completely oblivious to how people worked. I typed out a line. "I watched your old game tapes. Everyone's just recklessly aggressive, dropping the gloves at the drop of a hat, all chasing the spotlight, and you play like a bunch of strangers. It doesn't matter how good the tactics are if the captain doesn't give a damn about his own teammates and lets bullying slide right under his nose." He fired back a shocked reaction sticker in a heartbeat.

I couldn't get the image of me screaming under him, cumming like an idiot and even begging him to fuck me harder out of my mind. I scrubbed my neck until the skin was raw, desperate to wash away the scent of him, that mix of expensive cologne and the lust in his eyes. I leaned my forehead against the tile, letting the water pelt my back. I was Elias Carter, the captain of the Northwood Titans. My life was built on discipline, morning drills, and a reputation for being untouchable. Yesterday, I was all those things before I lost to Ryder. "Get it together," I hissed at my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. My lower lip was slightly swollen, a visible mark of my shame. I looked at the "C" on

The young man burst into manic laughter. "I know you're trying to trick me into talking, but what does it matter if I tell you? Our captain used to be a free‑fighting champion. After the apocalypse, his awakened ability enhanced his body even further. When he kills you, you won't sense a thing—your head will already have been blown apart by a single punch! "But for someone like you, our captain won't let you die so easily! "I told you—he'll break your bones one by one, smash them into pieces, and let your marrow spill all over the ground for dogs to eat!

Captain was sitting there on the floor like he'd been expecting us to show up and we were taking too long in coming to get him. "If you can really talk, I suggest you start using your words. Or my friend here is going to experience his first raw meat snack," Taryk said. I snapped my jaws together. Captain shook his head, pointed to his throat. He lifted a hand to his head, moved his mouth. Lifted his hand to me. "I'm guessing he wants to talk to you mind to mind," Taryk said out loud. "The fuck?" I said on the mental network. Taryk laughed, said it again.

They shouted at the same time while jumping. "From the third most influential and most powerful school in the world, let us all welcome their players. Leviticus University!" When he said that, seven of his players walked to the center, one of whom was Dark. Someone popped up a picture on the screen and put their names. Below Dark's name is a Captain. That is, he was the captain of Leviticus. I looked at Shadow who was looking intently at Dark's behavior. "Traitor." That's what I read in his mind as he turned to look at Dark's behavior, I turned my gaze back to the front.

“Mr. Cash, this is the eighth division captain of Admiralporium’s Squad 13 in Northspring, Campian Wolke.” Shaun, who was flabbergasted, quickly greeted the man. “Nice to meet you, Captain Wolke!” Campian greeted him back amiably. “Nice meeting you too, Mr. Cash. No need to be so courteous.” “Nice to meet you, Captain Wolke. I’m Bryce Jupp.” Bryce smiled politely, sounding incredibly courteous. He could not help it. Campian’s position as a captain was no weaker than a city’s leader simply in terms of his authority.

And the messed up situation is exhausting, doesn’t mean it doesn’t eat at me every goddamn second. Before I can speak, the crowd shifts, and I hear a voice that makes my blood turn to fucking ice. “Well, well. Didn’t know nerds could look cute.” Wyatt Morrow. Captain of Silverthorn’s hockey team. Arrogant, smirking, six-foot-two jackass. Alpha of Blackridge Pack, our packs share boundaries and we've been at each other's neck for years. He’s standing behind Calla, fresh from his own game—clearly just changed into his damn varsity jacket. Must’ve come here right after winning.

"Well, well. Look who decided to show up," Derek sneered, leaning back against his locker with his arms crossed over his chest. He was our starting left wing, a guy with more money than sense and a mouth that never knew when to stop, and he was looking at me with a cruel, ugly smirk. "I was starting to think you'd be too sore to walk today, Vane. Tell me, when the captain's bending you over the training table, does he give you extra ice time, or do you just drop to your knees for the thrill of it?"