4 Works by Azuree17
Listing Works
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Summary
"Hey, how you feeling hun?" a quiet voice said sounding weirdly unlike his husbands.
Ilya slowly blinked open his eyes, the rooms lights had been dimmed and he silently thanked whoever this fake Shane was for turning them down. His head was fucking killing him.
"That's it, take your time," fake Shane said soothingly.
Ilya finally got his eyes open and began to look around the room, he was right, he had been in the hospital. Fuck that was a nasty hit, he wondered how long he'd been out for. He turned his head to ask fake Shane, when he locked eyes with him.
Ilya snatched his hand away sitting up far too fast as the room began to spin.
Why the fuck was Hayden Pike holding his hand and and calling him hun? Had Ilya died and gone to hell?
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Or Ilya hits his head and has a strange dream -
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"Waitt a minute Barrett why'd ya take a drink," Young slurred with his eyes narrowed, "Harris don't play hockey."
Well shit. Of course one of the rookies had to notice, those morons never let anything go.
So now everyone and their fucking mothers had turned to stare at Troy who could only let out an awkward laugh.
Well this sobered him up.
"Harris probably wasn't the first guy he slept with you idiot, he grew up playing hockey maybe it was an old teammate," Holmber said to Young whom he was still currently draped over.
"Nooo papa Hazy said professional hockey player, so it has to be someone in the league," Young argued back. The rookies had all taken to calling Wyatt variations of dad and followed him around like a bunch of baby ducks. Troy woulda laughed at the endearing nickname was he not about to get his shit rocked by a 6' 3'' Russian in the parking lot.
Because of every hockey player Troy Barrett could've slept with he just had to hook up with Shane mother fucking Hollander.
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Or the Ottawa Centaurs play never have I ever
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UPDATE
Chapter 3 is the only one with smut so if that's not your jam feel free to skip! -
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Summary
Rose looked up and glanced around the room, "wait a minute where the hell is-"
"Sorry, Sorry didn't mean to be late to the party!" a voice called from the hall cutting off Rose.
Strike three.
Troys stomach dropped and all the colour drained from his face.
Adrian Dela Cruz.
There he was, the narcissistic asshole himself, walking into the Centaurs locker room like he owned the place.
"Hi everyone! I'm so sorry, I got distracted talking to some fans outside you know how it is" he laughed his voice laced with a fake sweetness only Troy could pick up on. "Its so nice to meet all of you, I'm such a big fan of your guys team!"
God did he ever shut the fuck up.
Adrian continued batting his dark eyelashes, "You guys are such an inspiration to me, especially you two," he said looking towards Shane and Ilya, "gosh my heart just broke when you guys were outed like that."
Shane smiled awkwardly and Ilya thanked him. Fuck, Troy never told anyone besides Harris about him and Adrian, not even Ilya, this was going to suck.
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Summary
“I can’t let Sasuke see me like this.”
The thought echoed in his mind like a mantra, his chest tightening as his fingers dug into the wooden table. Sasuke had trusted him—no, he still trusted him—and Itachi couldn’t afford to break that trust. He wouldn’t let his little brother see the signs. He wouldn’t let him feel the same burden of grief and fear that Itachi had carried since their mother’s death. The weight of that responsibility felt almost unbearable.
Just as he was about to push himself away from the table, he felt it again—the wave of dizziness rushing over him. His vision blurred, and his head spun. He stood up abruptly, but his legs felt weak, as though they were made of paper. He gripped the edge of the table to steady himself, but it was no use. His breath caught, sharp and painful, before the familiar, brutal cough ripped through his chest.
This time, there was no stopping it…
Or
What if Itachi got his mysterious illness before the massacre