#kookheir

lived and breathed figure skating, honoring her late mother’s legacy. ever since she first put on a pair of skates she had had one goal - olympic gold, just like her mother.  if it wasn’t for her skating partner olivier, her cousin, she never would’ve entertained the idea of university. too immersed in figure skating, did not have much of a life outside of it, unlike her cousin who was quite the social butterfly. which meant she was introduced relatively late to the partying and dating scene. hockey players were previously a thorn in her side, brutes who stole precious ice time. now her views may have been swayed, @kookheir the sole reason for her change of heart.     ❝ could you repeat that, ❞     confusion written over her features, slow to process his statement.     ❝ you could have anyone? ❞     she mutters after a few additional seconds of processing. dense when it comes to feelings, and based on how her fellow figure skaters rave about the king of penalties, she shouldn’t even stand a chance in the first place.

"Sorry, I'll grab another one." Skylar said softly before grabbing another bottle.

closed starter for @kookheir.

what had begun as innocent pecks had soon turned hungry. petite figure skate can’t quite get enough of @kookheir. they had barely gotten out of bed in the first place, clad in nothing but his jersey. near swims in it. nimble fingers curled into soft locks, gentle tugs every now and again. her lungs desperately begging for air, sharp intakes of air all she gets before surging back. like a moth to a flame, she is desperate to burn. kiss swollen lips trail down his chin as he speaks, a soft giggle escaping her before she nips at his jaw.     ❝ is that a threat or a promise pretty boy, ❞     she playfully tsks, either way, she would not mind ending up in bed with him. 

"so you're saying a kanima... someone else is controlling him?" seasoned hunter paces the room, brow creased with worry that perhaps, he's gotten in over his head. he knows that @kookheir needs help; the help of a winchester is no small asset when dealing with the paranormal. but sparing this man's pack had been a torturous sell to dean; helping him will have the younger brother crucified should anything go south. "s'you're saying your son could lose control at any moment, paralyze us, and go on a reptilian killing spree because someone wants to play a real life video game." countenance contorts with frustration; decision is already made. has been from the moment the request dropped from affluent brims. "alright... so what leads do you have so far?"

of the two brothers, he's certainly come to appeal to the correct one. dean would shoot on sight, only ask questions as the life leaves the eyes of every wolf in this pack. but rarely has the younger winchester managed to ignore a plea, hesitant to take a life if perhaps it isn't justified. still, pistol loaded with silver bullets holds steady aim at the alpha's chest; ready to fire on instinct should this go south. "what'd'you mean, scratch your back? definitely don't need ya to scratch mine. give me one good reason i shouldn't shoot you, your wife, and every other monster you've created. tell me why i should believe you're any different than–" lids flutter closed for just a moment, memories of a woman sam had once fallen for; one whom he had been forced to kill upon her turn into the very beast that now stands before him. "what could you possibly say to keep me from pulling this trigger?"

“Really hungry,” he repeated with a growl, as his mouth found Rafe’s neck, and his fingers teased the sensitive muscle between his checks, still sore.