#she has plans for the rink

[avatar-anna]

I have a requeeestt. Would you write something where ice skater y/n has her period and she has practice and it’s just NOT her day. And she doesn’t feel super comfortable telling Harry but he figures it out and just like pure fluff 🙊💗

Grumpy

part one, part two, bonus, bonus, bonus

Harry's girlfriend was a delight. An absolute ray of sunshine. The sweetest human on the plan—

"Fuck off, Niall. I bet your 'superior athleticism' wouldn't last you one ballet class."

Most of the time. She was a ray of sunshine most of the time.

Harry looked up from his phone and saw Y/n talking to a few of his teammates. They were all snickering and laughing as if what she said was funny, which only made her fists curl at her sides, and while he would've found it rather entertaining for her to take a swing at one of them, he would rather not have his friends and girlfriend be on bad terms.

"You ready to go?" Harry asked, sliding his hand over Y/n's and unfurling her fist.

Her face was set in a scowl as she looked over at the boys she'd been speaking to. For the most part they got along great, Niall specifically. They had a sibling-like relationship and often teased one another, but Niall must've said something about figure skating, and that was one thing that would make you public enemy number one in Y/n's eyes. And if she was already grumpy? Harry met his friend's gaze and tried to send a clear message with his eyes: Cut it out.

Because Y/n could throw a punch, and while she was significantly smaller than his teammates, she had a mean right hook.

Y/n gave Harry a nonverbal grunt that she was ready to leave the rink. But she did lean into the tiny kiss he placed on her cheek, which was something.

"Yeah, Harry, take your girl home. I think she's on her period or something."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, time to go," Harry said quickly, pulling Y/n away from his teammates and sending one final look at Niall.

As they walked to the car, Y/n handed her keys to Harry unceremoniously and slipped her hand out of his to cross her arms over her chest. He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears, so he let her stew in her bad mood for a little while. She must've had a rough training session, which could mean she messed up a lot or hardly at all, but Y/n was an extremely tough critic, so it was hard to be sure of which one if he wasn't there to watch.

Y/n's arms stayed crossed as they drove back to his apartment. Harry was fine with it, knowing the grumpiness wouldn't last. It normally didn't with Harry, a fact that he was extremely proud of. Except when he rested his hand on her thigh—close to her knee, he wasn't trying to start anything—she shook it off and shifted so her body faced the window.

"What was that for?"

"For being friends with neanderthals," she muttered. "Especially that one."

"'That one' is your friend, bub," Harry said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "And wait—does that make me a neanderthal?"

"He was out of line. And no," she said, still facing the window, the last part almost an afterthought.

"I'll make sure he apologizes," he promised.

Harry leaned over at a stop light to kiss Y/n's temple. She didn't shrug him off or push him away, which was a good sign, though Harry now had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. He didn't say anything the rest of the drive, happy to let his girlfriend be grumpy for the rest of the drive. As long as it wasn't directed at him, he was fine.

When they arrived, Harry shouldered both of their bags and handed her the keys to his apartment. "Go ahead and get in the shower. I'll meet you in there in a few minutes."

At that, he could practically see Y/n's grumpy facade start to crumble, but she nodded wordlessly and trudged up the stairs. Harry followed suit, setting their bags down and rustling through his small kitchen, trying to remember where he kept the emergency stash of her favorite snacks.

He realized that it was probably Y/n's time of the month. She became particularly moody around then, and it only took a couple minutes for Harry to put the pieces together. Should Niall have said anything? No, but the fact that he was right probably pissed Y/n off even more.

Harry grabbed a few things before heading down the hallway, the sound of water running growing louder as he got closer to the bathroom. He headed to his room first, setting Y/n's snacks and a couple other things down before kicking off his shoes and leaving to join Y/n like he promised.

"Need some help?"

Y/n was just standing beneath the spray coming from the shower head, not washing her hair or her face, the first steps in a detailed routine. She shrugged as he stepped into the shower, his hands smoothing over her shoulders before kissing the top of one gently.

"What's hurting?" he asked, continuing to snake his arms around her to hold her close.

"My boobs, my back, my ego, and I have the worst cramps," she huffed, but Harry detected the slight shift in her voice. Now that they were alone, she was trying not to cry. "He should try playing his precious sport while his uterine lining is shedding."

"I know," Harry said, reaching for the shampoo she used and squirting some in his hand. "Scalp only, right?"

Y/n nodded, some of the tension leaving her body when he started massaging the shampoo into her scalp. He worked slowly, trying to let the day wash off of her, murmuring to her and kissing parts of her body occasionally. When the actual bathing part of the shower was over, Harry turned Y/n around to face him, his kisses becoming more drawn out, sensual. His hands were soft, but firm, trying to knead away the soreness in her breasts and back.

Y/n sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. Both of them could feel him growing hard, it was hard not to give the circumstances, but neither of them said anything about it. Harry wasn't really focused on himself at the moment.

"Want me to use the shower head?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I want you."

"Yeah?"

Peeking one eye open, she said, "Don't be so smug about it."

Harry chuckled softly and reached a hand up to hold one side of her face. "Me? Never."

For the first time all afternoon, Y/n grinned, but it quickly turned into a frown. "We can't."

"Baby, we're in the shower."

"Still, I think it's gross." But even as she said it, she moaned when he began to kiss her again.

They had this debate every time Y/n was on her period, but Harry always managed to find some way around it. For her sake, not his. He knew they both wanted to, but Y/n never believed him when he insisted he didn't mind if she was on her period. His solution was usually the detachable showerhead, but she didn't seem to want that this time.

"Here," Harry said, an idea sparking. He sat down, the tiles cold against his skin as he brought Y/n down with him. She didn't follow though, staying standing, her arms crossed over her body. "Would you get down here? I promise I won't even look. See?"

Harry covered his eyes with one hand, then raised them to show that his eyes were closed underneath.

"You promise you won't look?"

"Won't even watch you come, which is arguably my favorite part," Harry said, only half teasing.

He kept his promise to keep his eyes closed, so he couldn't tell if or when Y/n decided, though when he felt her settle over his lap, he had a pretty good idea. She draped herself over him, tucking herself close to him when he was fully settled inside her. Harry couldn't tell if she just wanted to sit like this or if she wanted more, but all he got was a contented sigh in his ear, which didn't really help.

"Okay, you can go now," Y/n said after a few minutes had passed, voice soft and a little slow as if she'd just woken up from a long nap.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little. "I have to keep my eyes closed and do all the work?"

Y/n only nodded, not moving from where she was tightly hugging him. Harry was amused, but not all that surprised. She despised the term, but Y/n was without a doubt the textbook definition of a pillow princess. She had a pretty tough exterior, but once they were alone, she melted, becoming more needy and letting Harry take control. She liked being praised for taking all of him and behaving for him. His good girl, Harry once called her, and after she lit up from it, he called her that anytime they were intimate. He thrived off of it, Y/n's eagerness to please and the way she let him have his way with her.

Harry maneuvered himself a little, earning a few gasps and whimpers from Y/n. When he finally found a good enough position to hold her while not slipping on the slick tiles, he nudged the side of her cheek with his nose.

"I need at least a kiss first." He was keeping his word, so his eyes were still shut, but when Y/n slotted her lips over his and gripped the wet curls that were pressed to the nape of his neck, he grinned, focusing on the sensation of her kiss. With his eyes closed, Harry felt everything. Every shift of her hips, every clench she made around him, it was almost torturous, but he held off driving into her until he thought she was ready. "Thank you, bub. Be as loud as you want, okay?"

That only made her squeeze him tighter, and Harry took that as his signal to get started. It was slow as he tried to find the right rhythm, listening closely to how Y/n was reacting. Usually he was able to tell by the little faces she made, but he went off her sounds and how hard she squeezed her arms around his neck.

Harry murmured in Y/n's ear the whole time, letting her know how good she felt around him and to touch herself however she wanted. By the end of it, she was all molten limbs and tired, satisfied eyes, kissing all over his face as he smoothed back her hair. Harry gave her a couple minutes to come back down from her high before he helped her stand back up and let her get dressed while he showered properly.

Later that night, Y/n was sleeping in Harry's bed, a heating pad strapped to her back while she stayed tucked into his chest. They'd watched a couple movies and eaten her favorite snacks, and at one point Y/n crawled into his lap to ride his thigh when she claimed she needed another orgasm. Harry was happy to give her one, happy to let her use him how she liked, though he had to help her hips along after a couple minutes.

All the grumpiness from earlier was gone. She had nothing but kind words and sweet nothings and little jokes she mumbled to him as they continued watching a show they started together, which was when she promptly fell asleep. Harry was right behind her, he just had to send a text first.

Y/n's ballet training is at 8am on Wednesday. Be there.

Harry had promised Y/n Niall would apologize, and he couldn't think of a better way than his friend struggling to plié. He didn't need to add or else or any other kind of threat. It was unnecessary. Niall had pissed off Y/n, and he knew Harry would make him pay if he didn't make it right.

After sending the text he set his phone down and settled deeper into the pillows. Y/n shuffled around a little, then murmured, "Little spoon."

Harry understood immediately, turning over so she could wrap her arms around him and rest her cheek on his back. With that, Y/n fell back asleep, and Harry gave one last kiss to her knuckles before following suit.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #ice skater!y/n #hockeyrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[verstarppen]

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗

the pit stop for all your reading needs !

mv33 ｡⋆˚ max verstappen

max and the three musketeers — mercedes is a just a tiny bit worried about your dates with their archenemesis

ln4 ⋆⭒˚ lando norris

in a galaxy far, far away — there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work

dr3 ‧₊˚ daniel ricciardo

[ WIP ] pearls in his hair — they say alcohol brings people together, especially when you find a half-naked man by the lake of your vacation house.

ll40 ⭒𓈒ㅤׂ liam lawson

[ WIP ] rollar skate paparazzi — the guy you've been flirting with on the roller skate rink conveniently left out the part where he's super fucking famous

mv33 ｡⋆˚ max verstappen

[ WIP ] wrong kind of butterflies — max hates watching tv shows but he can't keep his thoughts away from that silly superhero show he watched on a 20 hour plane ride. and oh whatever shall he do when you actually meet on a charity party.

mv33 ｡⋆˚ max verstappen

best trophy in your showcase — cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life

cl16 ☾⋆˚ charles leclerc

oh no he's hot — your comic book signing takes a turn when a fan walks in wearing a t-shirt with a poorly photoshopped "charles lechair" or wheover that is [ WIP ] caramel splotches — charles makes an oddly specific reference to your youtube channel just once, but the internet decides to internet [ WIP ] apricot bowls — there's nothing charles wants more than to win a championship, but you, the baby and the cottage are a close second [ WIP ] beef? she's a vegetarian — no one could've possibly predicted the real reason why charles made a joke that he'll join eurovision 2024...but you do, and so does your ex

ls2 ✮⁺₊ logan sargeant

behind open doors — the relationship isn't as secretive as you think it is. texan egg hunt — the ricciardo urge to be obsessed with america takes a whole new meaning when your relationship with the only american on the grid is revealed...because of kinder eggs glitter bomb — logan has a very special helmet reveal on instagram to celebrate your olympics gold metal and a scavenger hunt seems like the appropriate way to reveal it to you [ WIP ] she's everything, he's just logan — not to flex, but how many f1 drivers can say they're dating a princess?

gr63 ˖♡𓍢ִ໋ george russell

get on with the show... — mercedes have a strict policy regarding office romance, but that can't stop Totally Spies because they can't read

op81 ✩°˖ oscar piastri

[ WIP ] fly me to the moon — the world hadn't seen chaos until you parked a miniplane in the pit lane your boyfriend lunchables [ WIP ] blueberry pastries — the mclaren and williams admins love taking advantage of the fact that you and oscar only seem to look like you're not absolutely miserable on camera when you're together meddle about — the singapore heat can't kill you, but the sight of him sweaty and disheveled just might

ln4 ⋆⭒˚ lando norris

[ WIP ] just a couple of besties — the king of spoilers himself, lando "oh is it confirmed?" norris, reveals to the whole world he has a girlfriend...and not a soul believes him.

dr3 ‧₊˚ daniel ricciardo

[ WIP ] you, me, and franz kafka — danny ric doesn't understand how a book about a guy turning into a insect can be interesting, but if it makes his girlfriend happy he'll read it- and maybe melt a few fans' hearts along the way

yt22 ★⋆.⁺ yuki tsunoda

cheap tricks on route 66 — losing a bag at a out-of-city gas station with an etched phone number seems a little too convenient doesn't it?

ms47 ❀˖˙⊹ mick schumacher

count me in — slowly but surely that fake dating plan you cooked up starts leaving its confined lines

last updated: 28/3/2024

#masterlist #f1 smau #f1 #f1 x reader

[puck-bunnies]

behind closed doors

umich!luke hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, praising, choking, not proof read

word count: 2.3k

me and luke were never much of friends, never even talked much. at least, that’s what everyone thought. no one ever knows what happens behind closed doors.

i have not used this app in forever, meaning i haven’t written a fic in quite a long time so this is me trying to get back into writing. sorry if this is not great and a little rushed, i just haven’t written anything in like five months. anyways, try to enjoy this fic and ill try to write more as soon as i can.

i sit in the living room of my best friends boyfriends house, she sits beside me as all of ethan’s roommates take up every other seat. the lightning vs islanders game plays on the tv, having all of our eyes glued to it.

the boys are in a constant state of yelling, wether is celebrating, yelling at how stupid the refs are, or booing the other team. i’m not as invested as usual, my teams aren’t playing, but ill never miss an opportunity to a hockey game.

my mind also focuses on the close proximity as luke sits beside me, our thighs lightly rubbing against each other ever so softly. the warm summer weather left me wearing shorts and a tank top, causing luke’s hand to glide across my bare skin as he secretly places his hand on my thigh.

i never intended on sneaking around with luke, it all just happened one day, the house was empty and quiet. we got to talking, venturing from subjects like our classes, plans for our future, and somehow turning into our sex life.

he learned that i’ve never really gotten quite what i need, never feeling that spark with any guy that i’ve been with. them never wanting to try anything i’ve wanted to, i’ve never been fully satisfied.

he continued to tell me how he has slept around quite a bit. nearly almost always leaving the rink with some new blonde puck bunny stuck to his arm. he didn’t wear it as a trophy, or say that he regretted any of it, all just saying it’s apart of his past. his history he can’t and won’t change.

one thing led to another, his hands roaming my body as my lips bit down on his. my hands squeezing the mattress tightly with every moan escaping my lips.

we didn’t even stop there, whenever we could find a time to be alone, we were tangled in each others arms.

here we are now, not even able to keep our hands to ourselves in sight of one another. i try to shake his hand off, not wanting any of the surrounding eyes to see his intimate gesture. he doesn’t move, squeezing my skin harder. i softly pierce my bottom lip with my teeth, try to calm my nerves. i can feel heat bubbling up to my face, painting my cheeks with a faint blush.

my eyes peer over to him, giving him a pleading look to start behaving. he doesn’t budge, giving me a side smirk before returning his eyes on the game.

rutger groans loudly as the 2nd period finishes, “fuck the lightning.” he swears as they’re pulling a 4-1 lead. he chugs back the rest of his beer, throwing the can on the ground in some grown man temper tantrum.

the ads run during the commercial break, leaving the rest of us to disregard the television for the time being. my heart starts to quicken, without their distraction of the game they’re eyes could fall upon luke’s hand on me.

my mind tries to work fast, but the only thing i can think of doing is grabbing the blanket next to me and covering myself with it, concealing us from the wandering eyes. luke’s lips curl into a smirk, proud of me not forcing him off, knowing that i want it. that i want him.

his hand becomes bolder, rubbing up and down my inner thigh. i bite my bottom lip again, trying to stabilize myself from this new feeling. his fingers become more adventurous, going to the hem of my shorts.

“fuck.” i softly mumble to myself, luke’s soft chuckle tells me that he hears my light groans. his fingers don’t stop there, rubbing up to the bottom of my shirt, toying with the cotton material.

the pads of his fingers brush against my sensitive skin, right across the bottom of my stomach. fire engulfs my stomach, my breath hitches as he rubs softly back and forth, tickling my skin.

the game comes back for the final period, my eyes keep trained on the hockey game, but my mind can only focus on his touch as it drives me insane.

he feels my stomach hitch with my breath, he knows i want him so badly, he knows what he does to me. i squeeze my thighs together, trying to cause some type of sensation in my growing wetness.

i can’t take his teasing fingers anymore, “meet me in my room.” i whisper to him. rising from the couch and walking away from the crowded living room. i head for the direction of the bathroom, making them hear my footsteps as i lead their ears to the door closing. i stay outside the bathroom, tiptoeing to my room in an unsteady waiting of luke.

the door finally opens, luke quickly closing the door silently behind him. a deep breath is all i can hear from him, turning around to look at me patiently sitting on the foot of my bed. he takes a seat beside me, quickly gripping my hips and pulling me onto his lap.

“it’s been awhile since we’ve been alone,” my fingers rake up the back of his head, through his soft brown hair, my finger swirling around a curly lock. “too long.” a soft sigh parts from his lips as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp.

he keeps his hands on my hips, roughly gripping at my denim shorts. “i missed your hands all over me. you can’t tease me out there and not expect me to want more.”

our bodies come closer, our lips so close together, our hearts syncing their beats. i can barely hold myself back from making up that final inch. “tell me how badly you want me.”

“i want you..” he shyly gives into my need. it’s not enough for me, i feed off of hearing how badly he wants me, his hands rubbing up and down my body, the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside me.

“oh yeah…” my lips attach to his neck, softly kissing down from his jaw.

finally he gives in, “i want to feel you against me, your lips on mine, every inch of your beautiful body baby.”

a devilish smirk spreads on my face, “mmm, is that right?” i mumble against his neck, softly sinking my teeth into his sensitive skin, sucking the spot to soothe it after.

“oh god yes.” luke practically moans out. his hands become adventurous, slowly going down to hold my ass in his hands, gripping at my clothed skin. they make their way down farther, gripping at my exposed thighs while my kisses go back up his jaw.

i crave for his taste, forcefully pressing my lips against his in a hungry state. my tongue quickly sliding into his mouth, hands combing through his messy curls, pushing him closer into me. he guides my hips back and forth on him, i can feel him hardening underneath me.

breaking the kiss to catch my breath, i drop my head onto his shoulders as i feel his hands press against my pussy. my hips still grind on him, but instead of just on his hard cock, it’s on his fingers. “mmm, you want me that bad?” he chuckles, i nod against his shoulder.

he undoes my shorts, exposing the top of my pink lacy panties, his fingers drag down them, going farther into my pants. they settle on my wetness, my hips stop rocking, focusing on the closer touch. “god you’re soaked.”

my lip sticks to my teeth in a harsh lip bite, my walls clench around nothing, begging to be filled by him. his fingers work slow and teasingly, rubbing circles around my clothed clit, watching me squirm on top of him. my back slightly arches, legs slowly opening wider for him to have better access to my aching pussy. “needy, are we?”

i softly whimper, my hips start to grind again, craving more attention from his teasingly slow hands. his fingers move the crotch of my panties aside, touching my wetness with his bare fingers, feeling my folds and them dripping for him. my head lifts off his shoulder, taking a glance down at his hand stuffed down my pants, looking back deep into his eyes.

i take a deep breath out, without a single warning he thrusts a finger in my pussy. making me loudly squeal with surprise. he quickly covers my mouth, stopping his finger in me. “you have to be quiet princess, you don’t want us getting caught, now do you?” he asks. i shake my head no, he hums at my obedience. “good girl.” his voice is in a whisper, softly praising me.

he begins to move his finger once again, letting me adjust to the new sensation before adding another, stretching me out for him. curling his fingers up to my g-spot. finally trusting me enough not to scream, he moves his hand off of my face, settling it down on my hip to keep me steady.

my hands grasp at his curly locks, trying to compose myself. as he adds another finger i bite down on my bottom lip, trying to keep the wanting moans from escaping my lips. a smirk spreads across luke’s face, watching what he can do to me with just his hands. i curse under my breath, dropping my head down to keep my brain straight, the pleasure slowly becoming less bearable.

his fingers quicken, hand comes off my hip and to my chin, lifting my head to force me to stare back into his eyes. “look at me while i’m finger fucking you baby.” my teeth puncture my bottom lip harder, my chest heaving with all the moans i keep to myself. i slip up and let on me out, hard hands hit my throat, softly squeezing. “i thought i told you to keep quiet?”

his grip loosens to allow me to take a breath, closing back up as soon as my chest rises. another finger slips in my cunt, my legs start to squirm, toes curling and hands squeezing his hair. his fingers losen from my throat, falling down to the straps of my tank top. he pulls one strap off each shoulder, one at a time. hooking two fingers at the neckline and pulling down, my tits falling out from my lack of wearing a bra.

he wastes no time before gripping my breast, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bud. i clench around his fingers, my senses overloading with pleasure. he lowers his head, kitty licking my other nipple. i softly moan, not loud enough for luke to get me in trouble again, but enough for him to know the things he’s doing to me.

my stomach clenches, the feeling i know very well as my head starts to feel light. “i’m so close.” i whimper out. luke doesn’t let up, switching to my other breast, sucking on the nipple before softly biting the skin.

my whole body clenches as i feel my climax, luke’s quick fingers curling inside me quickly. it all comes raining down, my pussy clenching around him as i coat his fingers with myself. he backs up, letting me heave and fall down on his chest to catch my breath.

i quietly curse under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut to recover from my high. i life my head back up to look luke in the eyes. he removes his fingers from my folds, fingers coated with my cum. he slides his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. my breath catches in my throat again, god damn he makes me want more.

“you’re such a good girl Y/N.” he pops his fingers out of his mouth, “i wish i could fuck you silly right now. but i want to keep all those precious moans to myself, when we can be completely alone.”

before i can even react to his words he puts his lips back onto mine, slipping his tongue in my mouth to let me taste myself. his fingers plant back onto my hips, helping me up to my feet so he can get out from underneath me.

“you go get yourself cleaned up and meet me back in the living room. i pray we weren’t gone too long for anyone to notice.” he whispers, fixing my hair from the sweat that beads on my forehead.

i nod to his words, giving him one last little kiss before he silently slips out of my bedroom. my try to regain my normal breathing patterns, my brain still fuzzy from my previous orgasm.

i obey luke’s wishes, tiptoeing to the bathroom to clean myself off. splashing water into my face to try to remove my blushing red cheeks. i walk back out to the bathroom, seeing everyone engrossed in the final minutes of the third period. i thankfully sigh, slipping back between the guys to sit back down beside luke. he offers me a light smirk, we both then back to the television, watching the game unfold.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #luke hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes one shot #puck-bunnies

[skipper1331]

Ice rink // Leah Williamson

a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it!

Leah had a plan. It’s genius, so would she tell.

She would take you on a date but not just any date - a winter date. She knew you loved winter and everything about it.

Your eyes lit up at the slightest sign of snow, you started baking (even though you couldn‘t bake), mandarins became your to-go snack (at least one eaten a day) and whatever you did Christmas themed music was playing in the background. Winter was your favorite time of the year and Leah had made it her mission to make it even more special.

-

"Special date night, tonight, I’m picking you up at six" the blonde smiled brightly, peppering kisses to your cheek as you walked towards the changing room.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked, a blush covering your cheeks.

"For me to know, for you to find out" she replied sweetly, kissing your lips before she hurried away. Leaving you alone in the hallway, thoughts running wild. Leah was very pragmatic, something you learned quickly as you started dating the blonde. Date night usually meant that she would take you out to a fancy restaurant, be the charmer herself as she would open every door for you and complimented you every two seconds and of course, she would pay for your dinner. There wasn't much point in discussing it - she stuck to her opinion: "need to treat my girl right", "I am taking you out, so I am paying"

Every now and then you tried though, enjoying the unamused glare she would send you and trying to explain herself, "you can pay me back with kisses" she would huff, grumbling about your ridiculousness - there was no way she would let you pay for anything. She was Leah Williamson, how could she ever let her girl pay for her?!

So, what was she up to? Special date? Should you be scared?

-

At home, you realized something. Leah hadn‘t told you what to wear. You couldn‘t be over or underdressed for her special date night.

You

what should I wear?

darling

what happened to hello? how are you?🙄

not even a heart, my girl

you‘re hurting my feelings

You

ha ha.

my dearest lover, what should I be wearing tonight?❤️❤️

better?

darling

much better.

Wear whatever you like, you always look beautiful

You

Leah, that‘s not helping

darling

something causal, baby x

With new information, you showered, freshening up for your night with Leah, dressing in some casual clothes.

The two of you haven‘t been together that long yet, both of you still living in your own apartments even though, Leah spent most of her time in your flat. The blonde was far too obsessed with you to stay away from you longer than a few hours. Nights where she had to attend to events were awful for her. She would rather cuddle you and have a night in instead of being out, surrounded by cameras and the media.

After event nights, she would return to your home, not thinking about her own - she just wanted to have you back in her arms.

As you waited patiently for the time to pass by excitement flashed through your body, what did she have planned? You thought about some date ideas Leah might had planned but none of them made any sense - it was Leah after all.

5 minutes before the clock ticked six, your doorbell rang. Happily, you got up from your seat on the couch, walking towards the door to open it.

"Hi!" the blonde greeted you, pulling you close with one arm as her other hand held a bouquet of flowers before she pressed a loving kiss to your lips, "I’ve missed you" she mumbled. Your cheeks turned crimson at her confession, relaxing further in her embrace, "missed you too" you admitted shyly, pecking her cheek.

"Got these for you, my girl" she showed you the flowers proudly as if you haven‘t seen them already, "they look almost as beautiful as you" she grinned.

Walking into your home she like she owned it, she tossed her bag aside, making her way to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

"Thank you, baby, they‘re perfect" you told her as you trailed behind her.

With the flowers in the vase resting on the counter, her full attention was back on her favorite, "come here" grabbing your hands, she pulled you in, arms snuggling around your waist, "you look so beautiful" she muttered, pressing loving kisses to each of your cheeks before kissing your lips. Immediately, a blush spread across your features, Leah’s touch and sweet words making you melt.

After a quick lovely kissing session - Leah couldn‘t stop peppering kisses along your features, your blush and giggle too cute, the two of you left your home.

The blonde sat behind the steering wheel, hand firmly resting on your thigh as she drove to your destination. The whole driving journey you stared out of the window, admiring the city lights, the little bit of snow that was falling and all the house decorations. Everything was just so christmassy - you loved it.

As the car slowly came to a stop, the defender requested softly, "close your eyes please" to which you obeyed. Your girlfriend pressed a thank you kiss to your cheek before she hurried out of the car to your side, opening the door, "be careful, baby" she helped you out of the car, hand protecting your head, so you wouldn‘t hurt yourself. "I‘ll guide you some steps, keep your eyes closed" her arms wrapped around her waist to steady yourself as she led you to the ice rink.

"Open your eyes!"

Carefully, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness of the Christmas lights, only now realizing the Christmas music playing.

"Ice skating?"

"Yes! Awesome, isn‘t it?" she had one of the brightest grins on her face, so confident in her idea. "Have you ever been ice skating before?" you asked as you couldn‘t imagine the girl on the ice without falling on her bum.

"Of course, but don‘t worry, my girl, we‘ll get you one of the penguins" she replied cockily with a special glint in her eyes. She was lying - the 'I’m trying to impress you'-lying. Nonetheless, you went with it as the big smile on her made you forget everything.

"Let‘s go. We need skates" grabbing your hands, she pulled you to the shoe rental.

-

"Ready, baby?" you asked, standing a step away from ice rink entrance.

"Yeah, sure" she answered with some hesitation, suddenly feeling afraid. Sensing her nervousness, you took her hand, "can we go at the same time?" smiling shyly. She nodded, stepping on the rink with you.

"Ah!" the defender shrieked as she slipped away, just catching the rink wall in time.

"You okay?" you giggled.

"Yes! put my weight on the wrong side" she shrugged, standing back up correctly, "come on" she pushed herself away from the rink, trying to balance herself in the skates - failing miserably. Her arms flung in every direction, hips and body too but it was no help. She fell again. She huffed, getting up immediately as she grabbed your hand, determined to show you that ice skating wasn‘t that hard. "Do you want some help?" you asked softly, the feeling on being on the ice an old familiar one to you. The sounds of the blades scratching the ice, the tightness of the laces and the shivering warm sensation made you feel nostalgic. You had spent hours on the ice as a kid, falling over and over again while you tried new figures.

"No, I told you I can ice skate" she stated, grumbling "can‘t be that fucking hard" under her breath. She left her hand in yours, feeling the need to do so as she tried again - it was rather moves of not falling than skating.

"Ah!" she yelled, pulling you down as she fell once again. You fell right on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs, "sorry. are you alright?"

"yes" she huffed, getting more and more annoyed at each of her falls.

The hand holding soon turned into arm clinging as she desperately tried to stay on her feet, not wanting to fall again.

But she continued to fall, your heart slowly aching at her misery. Indiscreetly, you guided her to the wall where she instantly grabbed onto it, clinging for her dear life. "Let me get you a penguin" you suggested, eyes searching for one on the rink.

"I‘m not a baby!" she grumbled, pouting and crossing her arms - she didn‘t come that far her skates slipping away, arms back at hugging the rink.

"They are not for babies, they‘ll help you, my love"

She huffed, glaring at you, not used to the fact she couldn‘t do something - something as simple as ice skating, "fine"

"thank you" you pressed a kiss to her cheek before you skated away with an ease. like a goddess you glided across the ice, Leah amazed by it. It looked so effortless as you did. Not once did you fall - not when people suddenly appeared in your way nor when people skated straight into you, you just turned on the ice skating backwards as you helped said people not to fall themselves.

Leah‘s mouth agape, when did you learn to skate? You were glowing on the ice.

"I didn‘t know you could skate" the defender pouted in awe as you were back at her side, the penguin in front of you.

"You never asked" you laughed, pushing the penguin to her, "I used to figure skate" you stated at her raised brows.

"And you didn‘t tell me!" she looked at you offended, playfully hitting your chest. All her annoyance had washed away by seeing you skate, truly amazed by your talent. "Can you show me how to skate?" she asked shyly, head hanging low, slightly embarrassed as she had tried to impress you with something she couldn’t do and you were an expert in.

"I’d love to" you replied, "put one hand here and the other one there" you started your lesson.

With one arm gripping the wall, the other one made its way where you had showed her to put it. Then the other one did the exact same thing.

First step - letting go of the rink wall - check.

Second step

Your arms gripped her hips as you pushed her slowly over the ice, so she could get a feeling on it.

"How does that feel?" you asked, still holding onto her.

"Good"

"Now try to move your feet. First, you slide with one of them diagonally forward, like pushing yourself forwards, same goes with the other after that. Lean your weight slightly on the penguin"

"Alright"

She tried pushing, her weight on the penguin, but without any luck. If you weren’t holding her, she would’ve fallen to the ground.

"Gently, not with so much force" she huffed, trying it again. This time it worked a bit better but still wasn’t optimal as she came to a stop - her body on the ice.

"You‘re supposed to hold me" she complained.

"Baby, you pulled me with you, how am I supposed to hold you?"

"I don’t know!"

Pulling her back up, she clinged onto your body, no trust in the little penguin as it moved too much and fast.

"Do you want to go?"

"yes, please" she admitted bashfully, big eyes fearing your reaction.

"then let’s go" with your lover in yours arms, you skated to the exit, helping her to step out as you followed behind. Both of you took a seat on the bench, taking off your skates - Leah still with a scowl on her face. "What‘s the matter, my love?" you asked, stopping her in her movement as it was way too aggressive.

"I ruined our night" she grumbled, finally able to cross her arms without falling.

"Hey" cupping her cheeks, you turned her to face you, "no. no, you didn’t." Sad eyes looked at you, all Leah wanted to do was something special in your favorite time of the year (and impress you.)

"What about a hot chocolate and maybe crepes?" you suggested, caressing the wrinkle between her brows.

When Leah heard the word chocolate she was already convinced. The pout washed away, a wide smile making its way over her features, "I love you so much" she whispered, leaning towards you to lock your lips. Her kiss was gentle and soft, her hand resting on your thigh as the kiss lingered. She was so in love with you. More than anyone could ever imagine.

"I love you too" you smiled, leaning your forehead against hers as you soaked in the cold winter night, your lover keeping you warm.

"So about the hot chocolate…?"

"let’s go"

the blonde kissed you quickly in appreciation before she held out her hand for you to take. She grabbed the skates, yours and her own as she brought them back to the rental store.

"Do you want them with marshmallows, my girl?"

"No, whipped cream please"

She nodded, hurrying to the stand who sold warm drinks while you sat down at a table. With a wide grin, she came back, two cups of hot chocolate in her hands, "I asked her if she could add a smiley face on yours with chocolate sauce, look" placing the drink in front of you, a smiley face smiled at you in the whipped cream. Your features matched the one in your drink while you 'thank you' kissed Leah. Her eyes shone as she looked at you, you looked so beautiful. "My pretty girl" she admired while she took a seat beside you, wanting to be as close as possible.

"Cheers?" you lifted your cup, waiting for Leah to join you.

"Cheers"

Both of you took a sip, the drink melting on your tongues, not too hot and not too cold - just perfect.

The blonde beside you let out a laugh which caught your attention. "What?" you asked confused.

"You‘ve got there something, my girl" she chuckled, pointing to your face, the whipped cream had created a beard.

"Where?"

"Here, lemme just" the defender wiped it away with her thumb before she tasted it, "delicious" she giggled, still wiping away the last few bits, "all gone, baby"

"I don’t think it is" you said, taking the drink in your hands to apply more cream, this time perfectly on your lips, "try harder"

"my cheeky, cheeky girl"

Of course, the gunner immediately leaned forward, connecting your lips. Your body tingled at the heavenly sensation of her touch, mind blank as you could only focus on her lips on your own.

When air became a problem, she pulled back, grabbing your jaw with one hand, her touch gentle as she examined your lips, turning your head in every direction, so she could she them from each angle, "no, not finished yet" she grinned, interlocking your lips again.

For sure, Leah wasn‘t the best ice skater but her love for you was clear. Leah Williamson was head over heels for you and would try everything in her power to impress you each day. Sometimes it‘ll work and other times, like today, it won‘t but that‘s okay because she was Leah Williamson, England Captain, European Champion and you were her girl.

So in the end, it was indeed a special date night - she made the winter even more special to you.

Also, she wanted to watch you figure skate - the two of you would definitely come back here.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #lionesses #engwnt x reader #engwnt #lionesses x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal x reader #arsenal women #arsenal #gunner #awfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader

[strawberrysturniolo]

ok about goal hockey!chris

can we have a part 2 with reader actually fighting hart's girlfriend after she said something about chris at a party and reader wins please LMAO

goal part three // hockey!chris

summary: the reader finds herself in a fight as she defends her boyfriend, chris

It’s safe to say that Chris has had a great season. Whether or not he wants to go pro after college, scouts have been at almost every game with their eyes on him. He’s had meetings with some coaches, hoping they can convince him to leave his friends and family and go wherever he is wanted. 

I have done nothing but support any decision he plans on making. I know he could thrive in the NHL, and I also know that he would love it if he would let himself. But it’s understandable that he may not want to leave his family. He makes a point every day that he doesn’t want to leave me either. 

Tonight’s game is against Harvard. 

More importantly, against Hart. 

The last time we played Harvard, Chris fought Hart. Even though we won that game, Chris has made a point over and over again that he does not want to deal with Hart’s ‘pathetic comments and even more pathetic hockey skills.’

Chris usually goes MIA on game days, which I totally understand. He puts so much pressure on himself and prefers to take his time on his own and focus on his own routine before he takes the ice. However, it is tradition for us to see each other right before the game, but Chris prefers to not be distracted in the morning or throughout the day.

I threw on Chris’ alternate jersey to wear to the game, along with a pair of leggings and matching Nike dunks to tie everything together. When I made it to the rink, I hung out with my friends before heading to the outside of the locker room to wish my boyfriend good luck before his game. 

I hear the sound of men cheering and chanting, signaling their journey to the ice. 

I find my boyfriend towards the end of the crowd of guys, waving to him with a smile before he runs over to me in his skates. 

“Hi baby,” he smiles, scooping me up in all his padding. He’s double his own size with all of that on him. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m at every game, Chris,” I remind him.

He shrugs after putting me back on the ground. “It still makes me happy knowing that you’re here with me.”

I place a soft kiss on his lips before pushing his hair out of his face. “You gonna give me a goal today?”

He nods confidently. “Of course.”

He peeks at his jersey on my body, smirking to himself before holding my cheeks and pressing a needy kiss to my lips. My lips part, granting him more access. His hands quickly find my waist, pulling me closer. My arms rest over his shoulders, my fingers twirling the curls at the base of his neck. 

I’m not sure how long we’ve been standing there making out, but it had to be too long. Chris’ coach’s voice rings in my ears.

“Sturniolo!” he calls, pulling Chris back. “Get on the ice!”

Chris presses a kiss to my cheek before walking away. “Doesn’t she look cute in my jersey, Coach?”

A grin grows on my face, especially when I see his coach smack the back of Chris’ head, scolding him. 

I find myself a seat in the stands next to my friends and some of the other girlfriends on the team. Once the game starts, we’re all cheering for our respective friends and boyfriends. 

Some time during the first period I hear a few girls with some snarky comments.

“Could they be any more obnoxious?” the laugh behind us. “I mean, they’re cheering for their boyfriend’s who are playing like shit. They’re too clueless about the game to not know when to shut your mouth.”

My eyebrows furrow at the sound of them. I’ve been to every game since Chris and I became friends. He’s taught me everything I need to know, and what does it matter when or how I cheer for him. I’m here to show my support, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.

When I watch Hart snipe a shot past our goalie, everything makes sense. 

I hear that same voice behind me shout, “Let’s go baby!” as she jumps up.

That bitch.

Chris skates in front of us as they set up another play, rolling his eyes at Hart’s girlfriend in the process. Chris’ team gets set up, trailing closely behind Harvard. In seconds, my boyfriend is speeding down the ice and firing a shot at Harvard’s goalie when he least expects it. I’m on my feet before the shot even goes in, but when it hits the back of the net, I’m shouting for Chris.

“Yeah, baby!” I cheer out. He grins at me as he holds his stick in the air, skating towards his teammates. 

“That was pure luck,” I hear from behind me. “If our defensemen had beat him there, there’s no way that shot would have gone in.”

This is the dumbest claim I’ve ever heard. ‘If our defensemen had beat him there…’

Yeah, and they didn’t, so my boyfriend scored. 

The same stupid comments continue to fly out of her clueless mouth as the game goes on. 

The score stayed at 1-1 for another period, until Matt scored a goal of his own. I jumped up in support of my boyfriend’s brother, but my excitement grows when an announcer says that Chris assisted that goal. 

“Yeah, Chris!”

Laughter comes from behind me. “This girl is too stupid! Her boyfriend didn’t even score that goal!”

I turn around slowly, an obvious look of annoyance on my face. “Maybe your brain is fogged from all that puff puffing you’re doing back here with your friends, but Chris assisted Matt’s shot. You say a lot about thinking I don’t know anything about hockey, but anyone with a brain would be able to figure out why I was cheering.”

My best friend pulls me back down before the situation grows into something more, possibly worse than it already is. “Just ignore her,” she says. 

That suggestion is only growing more difficult as she’s shit talking my own boyfriend while she sits only a few feet away. I’m starting to understand why Chris decided to fight Hart. I’m having a hard time holding myself back from his girlfriend. 

I sit on my hands and fold my lips into my mouth to keep myself from reacting in any way that could make me or Chris look bad. I have no idea if there are any scouts for him today, and I can’t risk throwing away an opportunity for him. 

“You okay?” Chris mouths from across the ice. I only nod in response.

The game ends with another win for us. 2-1. It was a close game, but we won, and that’s all that matters. I stand from my seat and clap for the team before heading out of the rink before Hart’s idiotic girlfriend can say anything else to get under my skin. 

I stand outside the locker room with the other girls as I always do, this time, with the Harvard girlfriends purposefully following us on our way. I stand silently, trying to ignore them as I wait for Chris to come out of the locker room, but Hart’s girlfriend’s whispers to her friends while her eyes are on me are getting harder to ignore. 

“Sophie, we all know that Hart kicked his ass once, and he is able to do it again.”

So her name’s Sophie.

Are they forgetting the fact that Chris won that fight?

“How cute is she, wearing her boyfriend’s jersey?” one of her other friend’s pitches in. “I think it’s got some of Sturniolo’s blood on it from that fight!”

“Are you guys done?” I ask, my tone snippy. “You shouldn’t even be down here. It’s for our students and our players. Shouldn’t you be comforting your boyfriend’s after that loss?” 

Sophie laughs at my comment. “I’m pretty sure this is for anyone. Maybe if you weren’t making out with your boyfriend any time you were down here, you’d see that fans of both teams have full access to this space.”

Before I have a chance to argue, she takes a step forward with venom in her tone. “Too busy occupying the slutty puck bunny role to notice anything else around you.” 

I don’t even have time to process my actions before I feel a sting in my hand. 

Oh my god.

“You bitch,” she says, holding her cheek. 

My friends surround me as I stand in shock. I just slapped Hart’s girlfriend.

That joke about Chris wanting me to fight his girlfriend just came true. Maybe this doesn’t count as a fight though. We can just label this as a little… scrap?

Nevermind. 

Now Sophie is kicking me everywhere and yanking on my hair.

“Hey, hey, hey!” I hear Chris’ voice as he runs over to the group of girls. 

“Ow!” I yell out, smacking my hand around with my eyes closed.

I’m pulled back by my shirt, opening my eyes to find Chris dragging me away. 

He pulls me into the locker room with his jaw clenched. It’s pretty sexy, honestly. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he shouts. 

Okay… Maybe not sexy when he’s yelling at me. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he adds. 

“She was calling me names and-”

“No!” he interrupts me. “This is fucking ridiculous. I watched you slap her!”

“You fought Hart-”

“In a hockey game!”

“She called me a slutty puck bunny!”

“I don’t care! I was talking to the Bruins coach when you were fighting some girl over a stupid comment!”

Fuck.

“You were?” I ask, my voice softer as I’m filled with guilt. 

He tears off his jersey and his padding and throws it into his bag. “Yeah, I had to excuse myself and throw away that opportunity before he realized you were wearing my jersey.”

“I’m sorry, Chris,” I apologize sincerely. 

He ignores me as he finishes packing up. I sit silently on a bench and wait for him to finish. 

He sighs as he throws his bag over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I nod. Nothing really matters about my situation now that I know about Chris talking to the Bruins coach.

“I’m really sorry, Chris.”

“I know. I should have listened to what happened between you guys before I lashed out,” he confesses. “I’m gonna call the coach tomorrow and see if he wants to get lunch to hopefully make up for this.”

I frown. “I ruined this for you–”

“You didn’t,” he assures me. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

I follow him as we walk out of the locker room and to my car. He turns around with a cheesy grin.

“That was a good slap. Rang through the hall,” he compliments me. 

I roll my eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”

took a different approach to this request but i hope you still like it! tag list: @freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl @oliviasturniolo21

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Steve comes home from his first post-injury workout drenched in sweat and throws himself onto the sofa on his back. Robin winces as she watches him go, raising an eyebrow. 

“That bad?” She asks, to which Steve groans in response.

“They want me to wear a bubble.” Steve responds, digs his hand around inside the gym bag still attached to his side and lifts out the full face mask.

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea, protect your face at least.” Robin observes, only to be met by a glare from Steve. His facial expressions are making a triumphant return as he regains more control over his face as the wound heals, and he’s taking full advantage of his bitchy looks whenever he can.

“Says the one not blowing hot air back into their own face as they work out.” He grumbles, flopping back and dropping the mask onto his stomach. “Everything hurts. You’d think I’ve been out for months, not just a few weeks.”

“How’s the headache?” Robin predicts, and Steve gives her another look before he sighs. 

“It’s not bad, don’t overreact. It’s not the concussion.” He insists, ignores the way her eyebrow rises again and instead pushes himself up again. “I’m going to shower,” Steve announces, making a quick escape from Robin.

It’s not exactly that he’s lying, because he’s not. He doesn’t think anything he’s feeling is concussion-related. The soreness in his muscles is from suddenly being weighed down with his hockey gear again, after weeks without. It’s a similar feeling to the first workout of the pre-season. The headache is a little trickier to convince everyone around, so he’d avoided mentioning it and done his best to hide it at the rink. It’s no surprise Robin can just tell he has one, though.

He lets steam fill the bathroom before he steps under water so hot his skin turns pink. He lets the shower spray target the middle of his back, shifts so it settles between his shoulder blades, and rests his forehead against the cool tiles in front of him.

Eventually, he emerges back into the apartment in sweatpants, his hair air drying. Robin is setting a cup of hot tea down on the coffee table, her own tucked onto an end table beside her on the sofa. Steve smiles softly and mumbles his appreciation as he sits and takes a sip.

As he drains the cup, the headache eases a bit and he feels a bit more human than he had after returning home from his workout. 

“You got mail from your parents today,” Robin eventually offers over the New Girl re-run neither of them are particularly paying attention to but have on for familiar background noise. Steve just grunts, uninterested, and instead busies himself checking any messages he may have missed from people he actually cares to give the time of day. 

Dustin had demanded a “family dinner,” which Steve agrees to and warns Robin when to expect a full house. Max, traveling with the Blackhawks for a game tomorrow night, had sent him a detailed threat to not push himself too hard while working out. He responds with a video clip the trainer had taken of Steve nailing a series of wrist shots.

Steve tries hard not to be too disappointed that he hadn’t heard from Eddie. They’d texted about their plans for the day, Steve knew Eddie had said he’d be spending the day in his studio working on a few new tracks he was putting together. Still, though, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping he’d have found a text or two from the other in the time he hadn’t been looking at his phone, something that was quickly becoming a standard for the pair.

Biting back his pride, he decides to send the first text, figuring the other will answer whenever they’re wrapping up in the studio.

Steve: Hope you’re having a good studio session.

After a long few moments, Steve can’t help the little sigh he lets out as he buries himself into the throw pillows filling out the sofa beside him. Robin nudges him with a foot, eyebrow raised, and he shrugs back at her, turning his attention to the television. It isn’t long before he zones out, though, thinking and overthinking.

His injury has given him a lot of time to think about a lot of things; primarily what landed him off the ice. He’s only mentioned it to Robin, but he has been considering coming out to his coaching staff and league officials to give background on what seems like an otherwise unprovoked violent streak from Billy Hargrove. Steve learned, in the days he spent in LA after the attack on the ice, Billy had taken to calling him names and slurs with press and on social media. The trash talking had landed him another fine from the league, but it wasn’t slowing him down. It was more than enough to prove the attack was premeditated, if everyone who needed to know the background was read in on their history.

And while Billy was staying on the attack, his teammates were apparently squared up and ready to defend Steve in a way he probably should have expected but hadn’t seen coming. Each of the players who had gotten physically involved in fighting Billy after Steve had taken a stick to the face had made comments with press about how Hargrove plays dirty and mean. Several had also spoken out about Steve’s leadership and sportsmanship on and off the ice, throwing their support behind him through his recovery. 

Coming out to the league and his coaches also had the potential to alleviate some of the anxiety he was feeling around his personal life. There had always been concern about coming out, getting kicked off the ice and ending up without the one thing he knew best. Long before he’d joined the league, his father had impressed upon him that he would have to settle and make sacrifices if he wanted to stay with the sport, but Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep his sexuality bottled up and hidden away from the public.

In large part, it was easy to place blame on Eddie. The rockstar blew into his life and changed his perspective on what it was like to be a public figure, out and proud. Steve knew their status didn’t translate equally. Sports fans were different from fans of a band; Steve had joined a team with supporters who would cheer him on so long as he wore their colors and made them proud. Eddie’s fans had sought him out, decided to listen to his music and support him on their own. But for Steve to see Eddie carrying on with his life, not having to hide any part of himself or worry about not posting certain photos from their days in LA on social media (because what if they looked too suspicious and got people talking and asking questions?) was what Steve longed for. 

Chicago was a pretty open-minded town; it’s why he and Robin had first moved to the city to begin with. But it still wasn’t a guarantee that everyone would continue to support the team if he did publicly come out. And Steve was working to reconcile that in his mind; to gauge how much he should even care about it. A part of him knew the greater majority wouldn’t give a shit as long as he still scored goals and played a clean, fair and exciting game whenever he hit the ice. But the thought of those few who might push back too hard and how it could impact his teammates - his friends - in the long term is still what ate away at him.

“I can hear how loud you’re thinking over there.” Robin eventually says while he’s deep in thought, and he shoots her a small smile in response. “Look, Steve, you have to do what you think is best for you. Who gives a shit about anyone else.” She says.

He wishes it was that easy. He knows it could be, but he cares too much about the fallout to stop overthinking. They fall back into silence again, until Robin eventually closes her laptop and leans close to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s hair.

“You’re the best at what you do and if people can’t see that around the fact that you like guys, then that’s their loss.” She says, gently, before excusing herself off to bed.

Steve lounges around in the living room for a while longer, before he turns off the tv, grabs a blanket and makes his way out onto the terrace. He wraps the sherpa around his shoulders and drops into one of the loungers out there, looking out toward the skyline. It’s cold, but not as cold as it’s been, and he’s always found comfort in the winter weather, anyway.

His phone buzzes, catching his attention, and he smiles softly at Eddie’s name. When he answers FaceTime, he’s immediately met by chaos. It sounds like three voices are talking over each other, Eddie’s closest to the phone, making a loud ‘shhh’ sound until everyone around him is silenced.

“Did you mean to call me?” Steve asks around a smile, and watches as Eddie’s face lights up as he draws his attention.

“I did!” He insists, though Steve isn’t entirely convinced. “Want to hear what the track I’m mixing right now?”

Steve raised his eyebrow, only half sure he knows what Eddie’s talking about, before he nods. “Let’s hear it.” He agrees.

“Told you,” Eddie hisses at someone just out of the camera’s frame; probably one of the Corroded Coffin boys. Eddie taps a few buttons below the phone, then a soft guitar tune starts playing. It’s not like anything Steve has ever heard from the band before, gentler and softer. Other instruments crash in, in a more typical Corroded Coffin sound, for what Steve assumes will be a chorus once there’s a vocal track, but it slows back to just a guitar for the next verse. Eddie pauses the song and lifts the phone up again. “Thoughts and opinions are encouraged.”

“It’s different.” Steve says, still a little in awe.

“But not in a bad way!” He hears Gareth’s voice from somewhere in Eddie’s studio, and Steve nods in agreement.

“I don’t think it’s in a bad way, either. Just different. It still sounds like you guys in that middle part, when all the instruments join in. But the guitar, that’s… it’s soft and sweet and gentle. It works nicely, not that I know anything about music,” Steve laughs, and Eddie gives him a little smile.

“I appreciate your opinion,” he says, seeming to inspect the screen. “Your face looks a little less colorful. How was practice?”

“Fine, I’m sore now, though.” Steve admits, shifts and cracks his back.

“Gross!” Jeff cries from somewhere around Eddie, and Steve can’t help but laugh again.

“You should get back to working, I’m gonna head to bed soon anyway. We can talk tomorrow?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods. 

“Night, Stevie.”

~~~~

He hangs up the FaceTime, steals a pizza roll off Jeff’s plate, and re-opens the notes app on his phone. Scanning over the rambling notes he’d made himself about how he imagined the song would work out, he starts a new paragraph.

And he stares at the blank line before him.

“You’ve composed, like, 4 tracks and you can’t come up with a single lyric for any of them?” Freak asks, takes a pull from a joint burning in an ashtray near the sofa, and blows the smoke out away from the group.

“Very helpful insight,” Eddie grumbles, and Jeff leans forward. 

“Do you want us to help? Like, do you have a theme for the songs, or is this just going to be your own little pet project?” He asks.

“Well, I guess it depends. If you want to drop a surprise EP or double album after the one we’re putting out, I’m probably going to need help. But if you’re cool with letting me sit on it, I can probably figure it out on my own.” Eddie offers.

Gareth twirls a drumstick between his fingers. “I think we let Eddie handle the love songs about Steve Harrington, and if he comes up with enough to make into something to drop, we drop them whenever he’s ready, and if not, we throw them onto the next album or whatever when he’s ready to release them.” 

Eddie sighs and drops his head back against the rest of his swivel chair. “Can we stop calling them love songs about Steve?”

“Guess you have extra incentive to write lyrics to them, then,” Freak teases, and Eddie groans back, making the other boys laugh.

It isn’t much longer before they all excuse themselves to the rooms they claimed around the house. Eddie spends a few extra hours in the studio, working on as many lyrics as his brain allows and even sorts out bridge for the song he’d played for Steve before he heads off to bed.

He isn’t surprised to wake up the next morning to a text from Steve, who routinely gets up hours before Eddie and is always the first to send a text wishing him a good day ahead.

Eddie: Go easy on yourself on the ice today, you were up too late listening to headbanger music.

It’s a while before he gets a response, which isn’t uncommon. They both have their own lives which responsibilities to get up to. But Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting not-so-patiently for Steve’s next response. Freak flew out this afternoon, heading back to visit family in Ohio, leaving Gareth and Jeff at Eddie’s. They’re playing video games in the living room when Eddie’s phone rings with Steve’s name and ID photo.

“Hey, how was today?” Eddie asks immediately, launching himself off the sofa and away from the boys and the noise from the television.

“Well, that’s part of why I’m calling,” Steve says, sounding a little out of breath and hair damp with sweat, glancing off camera before he flashes a charming smile down at Eddie. “What are you doing Tuesday?”

His brain short-wires for a second, thrown off course by the response. Is this Steve, asking him out on a date? That can’t be it, right? There’s no way, not with the back-and-forth they have going on. There would be more to it than that, and Steve seems like the kind of guy to give more than 4 days notice for a date that requires at least one party to travel several states. So Eddie does his best to quickly calm and compose himself, hoping he hasn’t taken an alarmingly long time to answer, before he responds. “I don’t know, what am I doing Tuesday?”

“I think you’re coming to watch the Blackhawks play the Predators in Nashville. I’m allowed to travel and suit up, but I probably won’t play just yet.” Steve is grinning, and Eddie can’t help but smile back.

“Hell yeah, I’ll be there!” He agrees, already pulling up the link to buy tickets for the game. “If I get shamed for wearing my Harrington jersey to a Preds game, you get to take the blame for me rooting against my home away from home.” Eddie teases, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh.

“Bring it on,” he challenges, finally seems to Eddie like he’s caught up and gotten back the quick wit and sharp humor which had been on a slight delay since the injury. A sign of recovery, Eddie’s sure and it helps to see him returning to normal.

They catch one another up on their days, and Eddie lets Steve listen to a few more of the tracks they’ve been working on over the last few days, but stops before the lyrics start in the only one he and Jeff have crafted words to so far, not ready for Steve to hear it yet.

As they’re talking, Eddie gets a notification he almost swipes away without reading, but Steve’s name catches his attention, so he drags it down and reads over the words.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie realizes the face he must be making is ridiculous. 

“Oh, uh. I just got a notification about you?” he mumbles back, and texts the link to Steve.

Now it’s Steve’s turn to look confused as Eddie reads over the headline again.

Hockey Legacy Harringtons to Host Joint Fundraiser

Steve reads the words and seems to immediately understand them in a way Eddie can’t, and he closes his eyes in a heavy sigh. “I promise you, my life is not usually this dramatic.” 

Eddie hates how miserable Steve seems all of a sudden; regrets passing the link on but knows he would have found out eventually and gotten upset anyway. “Dude, really, I don’t even know what that means, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. This is my parents, deciding that I’m worthy of being their son again because I’m getting a bunch of positive press after the injury. So my name gets to be included in the gala invitation, which I have been excluded from since juniors, by the way.” It’s still piecemeal, the information Eddie is able to take away from Steve’s explanation, but it’s enough to get the general gist of the issue.

“Ah. So, the dad who convinced you to self-sabotage is now trying to take credit for your sportsmanship?”

“Something like that,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie can see how he’s holding the phone differently, typing out a text. “I think I have to get Robin and we need to figure this out, sorry to jump off like this. But, I’ll see you at the Preds game? We can grab dinner after?”

“It’s a date.”

Eddie physically can’t stop the words before they’re out of his mouth, and immediately waits for a hole in the ground to open up and suck him in and put him out of his misery. But Steve just raises an eyebrow, smiles and shrugs. “Not yet, but. Sure.”

Then, Eddie stares at himself in the reflection of his phone after Steve ends the FaceTime call and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do with Steve Harrington, who keeps finding new ways to catch him off guard.

#glitter & crimson #starkidmunson writes #it's a little longer as an apology for how long it's been #steddie #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #simultaneously the slowest of burns and the most obvious flirting #anti-steve's parents

[urfavlarry]

HEYY, AIDEN x READER AT THE RINK ANON HERE!! LOVED THE WAY U WROTE THE ONESHOT!

i was waiting for your requests to open up again :D (im obsessed with aiden so bear w/ me, i'll be requesting ALOT abt him) wanted to ask if u could write a oneshot about tyler,aiden x f!reader as a love triangle! something along the lines of; how the atmosphere is around the group when those two keep on pissing each other off. Aiden being aiden and just pulling on tylers strings even though reader hasn't chosen which one she likes most!

(if its okay w u, every time i request something i'll just put 🤍Anon!)

Tyler & Aiden x fem!reader

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎸🥀 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The more confident one here would probably be Aiden

Like ofc Tyler isn’t insecure or anything but he definitely isn’t that confident when flirting with you

Aiden would get more touchy and pushy (well if that’s even possible)

Tyler would be more calm around you and would be very overprotective over you and would protect you, just like his sister with his life

The two would bicker so much more

You turn the corner, there’s a fighting Aiden and Tyler there

Aiden would be more smug then angry when arguing with Tyler

On the other hand.. Tyler would get pissed

We all know he gets pissed easily but they wouldn’t full on fist fight probably to not raise suspicion within the others in the group

When you are alone with Tyler he would probably be more ‘flirty’

He would have his hand on your waist or hug you

You wouldn’t think anything of it because you think he’s just being friendly (reader is kinda oblivious like always, typical Y/N)

When you three would be near each other the atmosphere would be so fucking tense

Ashlyn fight her inner demons to not say “get a room the sexual tension radiating off of you is making me sick”

Some would question the weird atmosphere but the two would deny anything and everything

After a while they would probably make you choose or one of them would just make a move

If you had a crush on Aiden:

Tyler would be crushed

He would cry probably but not a full on breakdown

He would get pissy towards you and Aiden (more to Aiden)

Deep down he would still like you but after some time he moves on

Things would definitely be awkward for a while tho

On the other hand Aiden would be the happiest man alive

He would rub it in but he wouldn’t go THAT far to the point he would make Tyler feel bad

Probably just sticking his tongue out when you’re not looking or when he kisses you he would do that thing where you have your eyes closed while he is eyeing Tyler

Aiden would yap your ear off and tell you what has been going on between him and Tyler

You would just laugh it off, feeling a bit bad for Tyler but you’re happy you got together with your crush :3

If you had a crush on Tyler:

Oh he would act like he doesn’t care but deep down he wants to rub it in so bad but doesn’t want to be immature

Would probably just smirk at Aiden when you’re not looking

Aiden would still be his cheerful self but he would be crushed as well

Poor boy probably cried the whole night

Ben would glare a bit at you two like how dare you make his cousin cry

But after a while he forgets about it and moves on, going back to his usual very happy self who yaps everyones ears off

Tyler would definitely not tell you what has been happening

Like girl nuh uh that shit seems too embarrassing to be talked about anywhere near you

Would never admit he was jealous, like never

But you can tell because he looks like an angry puppy :D

After a while the atmosphere in the group would go back to normal, just some romance popping in lmao

If you don’t like them back:

the awkwardness in the group would fr go 📈

probably would plan to fight the person you like

after some time they would ofc get over it but this would take then so much longer to get over

everyone in the group is like “wtf is going on”

if you start dating that person and stat to drift away from the group they would be really sad tho

if the guy mistreats you then they will beat him up they wouldn’t even care of they get in trouble

overall your interactions would be brief and awkward

#tyler hernandez x you #tyler hernandez x y/n #tyler sbg x reader #sbg tyler x reader #sbg tyler #tyler hernandez x reader #tyler hernandez #aiden sbg x reader #sbg aiden clark #aiden clark sbg #sbg aiden #aiden sbg #aiden clark x reader #aiden clark #sbg x reader #sbg fanfic #sbg #sbg webtoon #sbg (webtoon) #school bus graveyard requests #school bus graveyard x y/n #school bus graveyard fanfiction #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard

[olive-fics]

☆ Hockey player Abby Anderson Head Cannons ☆ (Fem reader)

I NEED. Hockey player Abby.. Sorry these are kind of short my brain has been mush. For the girls! <3 Men please DNI!

☆ MIGHT BE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES!! ☆

1-Abby is known for being the team's biggest romantic, She always talked about you or snuck your name into any conversation she could...Whether she's at practice, in the locker room, or hanging out with her teammates, she finds ways to slip her girlfriend's name or stories about their relationship into conversations. For example, if her teammates are discussing their plans for the weekend, Abby might say something like, "Oh, my girlfriend and I are going to that new restaurant downtown. She's been wanting to try it for ages.."

2-Abby would keep photos of you or good luck charms in her locker before games or practices just for good luck.

3-Abby is the first to defend her girlfriend if anyone tries to bring negativity into their relationship. She's fiercely protective and loyal of you.

4-Right as games end and players are free to leave the rink the first thought to Abby is you, no matter how the game went. She'd rush over to the stands to leave the rink as fast as she could to hug you and talk about how the game went as she got out of her gear.

Helping her take off her skates and putting one of those cheesy university jackets on her was almost like a ritual after every game, you loved her so much.

5-Post-Game Cuddles: After a win, Abby and you would celebrate with cuddles on the couch with hot chocolate and a cheesy show or movie.

-If Abby's team lost that night she would get very upset, not at your or her teammates but she would need some comfort in any way from you. That could be either cuddles where You're holding her, letting her lay her head on your lap or chest or just soft kisses with small muscle massages. Abby becomes especially cuddly when she's upset. She seeks the warmth of your arms, wanting nothing more than to be held close and reassured.

Okay sorry there isn't much like I said in the intro.. I have no ideas atm.. :,)

Please send me requests in my bio!!

#tlou fic #abby the last of us #fanfic #abby tlou #lesbian #wlw #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson #tlou fanfiction #fanfiction #the last of us #abby x you #abby x reader #fluff #x reader #fem reader #sports #hockey

[wolfiesmoon]

Ice skate date?

TWST x gn!reader

characters featured: riddle, azul, ruggie

since i am obsessed with the concept of teaching (almost) grown men how to skate, i return with brainrot (twst edition)

but then again i have a feeling that a lot of the characters have no idea how to ice skate (due to various reasons I'll get into here) . if there happen to be any events or lore where the characters actually know how to ice skate consider this to be a fun little au where they dont

｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡ Riddle Rosehearts

There's no time for useless things when you want to achieve perfection.

That's what Riddle's mom told him when he expressed interest in anything but studying. She had every minute detail planned out and a "useless hobby" would not fit in.

Therefore, Riddle never learned how to ice skate. You can imagine he has his reservations about going to the rink with you.

After a bit of convincing and lots of reassuring him that you won't laugh under any circumstance, he begrudgingly agreed to go.

As soon as he stepped on the ice, he felt unsafe, like he might fall over at any moment but you quickly held out your arm for him to hang onto.

"Thanks." He looked a little startled which almost made you laugh but you shouldn't break a promise.

His grip on your arm tightened as he attempted to glide across the ice beside you. Seems he's really afraid of falling.

"Relax, you'll pull my arm off if you squeeze it that hard." You reminded him gently. You have a feeling you understand why he's so determined to not fall even once and avoiding the stares of curious children.

His grip on your arm loosened but that made him stumble on the ice and almost fall over and he immediately gripped you again. At this point you're worried you'll lose circulation.

"Riddle, it's fine if you fall. You shouldn't worry too much." You smiled, remembering how you used to fall a lot back when you were first learning to ice skate.

"Even I still fall on the ice a lot. This is nothing like a magic history exam, you don't need to be perfect. There's no way to be completely perfect here, anyways."

"I know that. Do not patronize me." Riddle huffed, leaning onto you more and attempting to slide on the ice properly.

"I was not." You wondered if you were too vague with your advice. Did he even get what you meant to say?

Actually, now that you take another look at him, he looks more relaxed and at ease. "Riddle, you idiot. You don't have to act so modest when you're glad I understand you." You thought to yourself, looking lovingly at his determined face.

｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡ Azul Ashengrotto

Honestly, where would he learn to ice skate under the sea? He never even used legs until his teenage years, so ice skating was completely out of the question until now.

That being said, he felt less than confident stepping on the ice.

It was still water, but he didn't like it in this solid form. It was much too slippery and unpredictable for his liking.

"Come here! You can do it! Come on!" You were standing around 5 metres to his right, beckoning him to come over as if he's a toddler who's just learning how to properly walk.

"Drop the babytalking, please." he was definitely not amused which only made you giggle harder.

"Oh, but I was so benevolent as to help you learn how to ice skate. What a shame that my help is so unnapreciated." you did your best Azul impression.

"Wow. I would compliment your acting skills if this wasn't completely innacurate and used to make fun of me." despite that, he managed to somehow make his way to your side, stumbling a few times.

You smiled cheekily, pointing at the edge. "Hold onto that. And onto me too, if you want." He did as you insctructed, looking a little nervous and unsure.

A little kid passed by the two of you, staring curiously at Azul. It must be a little weird to see someone so old just learning how to ice skate for the first time. You anticipated the little children staring.

You could feel him squeeze your arm slightly tighter at that and he seemed to be looking outside the ice rink, avoiding your eyes.

You gently took his hand.

"It's fine. Don't think about it too hard."

You felt him stiffen for a moment.

"You're honestly pretty scary sometimes, you know that?" you had no idea in what sense he meant that since he still didn't look your way. But you have a feeling his cheeks are pink right now.

Doesn't matter either way since he squeezed your hand lovingly.

｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡ Ruggie Bucchi

"Aw man, I just can't get this right." You helped Ruggie up for what felt like the hundreth time. He had free time this weekend so you suggested ice skating, to which he immediately told to he doesn't know how to.

Thinking back on it, it makes complete sense that he wouldn't know how to ice skate. The Sunset Savanna is a very warm nation so snow doesn't fall there and Ruggie didn't exactly grow up in the best living conditions either so he wouldn't have been able to afford a trip to a colder nation anyways.

"You'll get it soon enough." He didn't seem dejected at all even after all the failed attempts to keep up with you, which was nice to see.

"I hope I do, or Leona will get mad at me for being late to tuck him in."

"I still can't get over how ridiculous that is. Tuck him in? What is he, a toddler?" You sighed, catching him when he stumbled over and he thanked you cheekily.

"King's orders, what can ya do." He shrugged. He thinks he's almost got the hang of it now. That's a good thing. Very very good.

"Why are you so determined to learn by today? You know we can always come back some other time." you held his hand, helping him keep balance.

"Isn't it obvious? It's cuz I wanna go on an ice skating date with you. A proper one!" he grinned widely at you, feeling proud of himself.

"Okay, you romantic." you rolled your eyes playfully. The closest you'll get to an "ice skating date" is a beginner skating class for teenagers. Atleast in this short time frame.

But you have to admit, the way he said it with so much determination was downright adorable and almost made you want to cover the rental ice skate fee. Almost.

He'll probably conjure up some insane scheme to avoid paying for them anyways. Which makes you worry about getting in trouble with not just the school, but also the law.

You should probably hold him back this time, huh.

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗ #twst x yuu #twst x mc #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #disney twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x mc #riddle rosehearts x yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x yuu #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x yuu #azul ashengrotto x mc #azul x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi x yuu #ruggie x reader #ruggie x yuu #ruggie x mc #alot of the things i mention here can be applied to any merman/person from sunset savanna but i wanted to write for someone new hehe #also the same logic as sunset savanna applies to kalim and jamil since where are u going to find an ice rink in the scalding sands 🥶

[gimmehyuck]

a series of (un)fortunate events | l.mk

summary. it’s been months since you've seen mark in person. when you have no choice but to be around him because of a wedding, you start to feel as if fate likes to see you suffer.

or, alternatively:

maybe fate just wants to see you happy.

pairing. rising actor!mark x fem!reader, feat. hyuck and ryujin

words. 9.4k

genre. exes to lovers; fluff with lots of angst sprinkled all over

warnings. reader has anxiety, honestly she’s a little bit miserable but i think we can forgive her for that, alcohol consumption, i asked my friend what the agents name should be and we both thought linda would be funny (sorry if your name is linda), cliche kdrama drunk scene bc i can

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

you were frozen in time. mind completely empty. the literal embodiment of ‘not a thought behind those eyes’. it took a solid 45 seconds of ryujin calling your name before you snapped out of it and looked at her again through your phone screen. she was frowning at you and you couldn’t help but mutter under your breath a small, “shit.”

clearing your voice you apologized with a smile this time.

“i knew she’d react like this,” ryujin said to the other person sharing the space on the phone screen.

“i know… look,” donghyuck said to you after turning away from his now fiancé. “i told mark that he’s my best man because he’s my best friend, but i also told him to try and keep his distance. we both want the both of you there for us.” donghyuck was pouting a little, probably because he always got his way when he did that but you were mostly looking at ryujin. she was happy and you could tell, but her eyes were worried for you. and who were you to ruin this time for her?

“oh, of course babe. i can handle this, no worries at all!” you forced the smile to meet your eyes, hoping she’d buy it. she didn’t. but she admired your bravery in the moment and didn’t press you further.

“i’ll let you know the details, you’ll have to fly back home so don’t worry about the dresses or anything. i’ll take care of that for you!” she chirped.

“ryu, no! if i’m the maid of honor then i should help with this stuff!” but ryujin was already waving her hand dismissively.

“just focus on getting here, it’s going to be expensive enough to get plane tickets, let alone the back and forth. so we’ll make it one trip for the wedding and i’ll facetime you for everything.”

“at least let me plan the bachelorette party,” you argued. and ryujin smiled brightly at that.

“i wouldn’t dream of taking that away from you.”

after a few more minutes of honest congratulations and eye rolls for donghyuck, you hung up the phone and you sat back on the couch while you stared at the picture that was the home screen. running your hand through your hair, you sighed heavily. the picture of mark leaning against the short wall of the ice rink as he was laughing hysterically was staring back at you, the moment captured during your one year anniversary date. you had fallen while ice skating and he spent the first two minutes laughing before he pulled himself together to help you up. you had been recording at the time and it was your favorite picture.

even though it had been two months since you had left, you still didn’t have the heart to change it. just like you didn’t have the heart to fall out of love with him. this wedding would be the second hardest thing you’d have to do.

the first will always be the night you left.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

you took everything that you had originally thought back. this would absolutely be the second hardest thing you’d ever have to do.

when ryujin sent you the seating arrangement for the wedding and let it slip that you’d have to walk with mark down the aisle, you nearly cried.

you did cry, actually.

luckily you knew where the letters were on your keyboard so you were able to type out a ‘sounds good to me, babe :)’ without actually seeing since your watery eyes were making the keyboard all but disappear.

you angrily brushed them away, getting so frustrated with your emotions and scolding yourself because you would have to get this under control in three months time. you still didn’t understand the rush of the wedding but it wasn’t your wedding to plan therefore you had no say in the matter. shaking your head you went back to your laptop to search for plane tickets to korea when the late night show’s host saying mark’s name caught your attention and you quickly whipped your head up to watch the tv.

“tonight we have with us, the up and coming star whose debut movie will be releasing this friday, mark lee!” the audience clapped and the thought of reaching for the remote to turn off the tv did not cross your mind; the idea of getting to see him aside from the random magazine cover made your heart ache but in that moment you wanted to brave the ache if only to get to see a smile from him.

mark walked on the set and waved at everyone, a bright smile on his face that you had been waiting for. his blue blazer complementing his black hair, and you couldn’t help but think about how handsome he looked. you were far too entranced to tell yourself to turn it off now.

“so!” the host said, clapping his hands together as mark took his seat adjacent to him. “welcome to the show.”

mark nodded along, “thank you for having me.”

“the pleasure is all ours, isn’t that right?” the host said to the crowd and they began the applause all over again. you noticed mark’s ears turning a little pink and you knew he was getting a little overwhelmed with the love from strangers.

“your debut movie dive into you, your very first role as an actor nonetheless, was making waves,” the host paused with a raised eyebrow while the crowd - and mark - laughed at his pun; then continued, “of the sundance festival. how did it feel to win awards so soon after wrapping up production?”

mark smiled and nodded along in answer, “it feels like it’s not real honestly, but also like my hard work has finally paid off. i never really thought i’d be here. i never thought i’d get to see this part of my dream come to pass but here i am. i can’t help but feel nervous, but also excited, you know? the director, cast, and crew were all welcoming and amazing to work with. i’ll truly remember this moment forever, and be grateful for it.” the host nodded along with mark as he answered his question at length, and then as he spoke the hosts lips pursed and he began tapping his chin.

“you said something very interesting just then, mark,” the host commented and mark raised an eyebrow at him suddenly looking around trying to figure out what it was exactly that he had said, as if the audience could help him find it.

“what? did i accidentally cuss and not realize it?” mark gave a nervous laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness. you were happy to see that although he had achieved his dream, he was still the same mark.

“oh no! and besides. it’s late night tv, you’re allowed to cuss here and there,” the host laughed a little before leaning forward on his desk and mark leaned closer as if they were going to share a secret.

“what i was curious about, and i’m sure what everyone else at home is curious about as well, is what you meant exactly by ‘this part of my dream’? what’s the other half… or whatever fraction of your dream that hasn’t come true yet?”

and mark’s eyebrows rose, “ahhh, that…” he hesitated while he scratched the back of his neck.

“i just meant… um, i just meant that the other part being that i wish that my- my friends were able to be here and celebrate this milestone with me.” mark was lying through his teeth, you could tell because as he said the word friends, his nose scrunched a little and that was always how you knew he was either lying or withholding something. but these people wouldn’t know that about him, and the shows host accepted the answer immediately. his face gave a look of understanding and almost concern.

“oh yeah, you came from korea for this movie, didn’t you?” and mark nodded in answer.

“yeah, they’re all back home supporting me but it’s okay. my best friend is getting married in a couple of months so i’ll be able to celebrate then with them in person!” and the host grinned widely at mark and then the camera.

“well that makes me happy for you, mark, truly! oh, and it looks like that’s all the time we have for tonight. everyone go watch dive into you when it releases in theatres this friday!”

the credits began to roll and mark was shot smiling and clapping, leaning over to say something to the host that the camera mic didn’t catch as the show ended. seeing his smile and being happy like that made the heart ache worsen, and you rubbed at your chest trying to ease the metaphorical pain. you weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. you weren’t sure if you’d be able to keep it together for this whole thing.

but for ryujin, you’d try.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

fuck this. you couldn’t do it.

you really really couldn’t do it.

after landing in korea you connected to the wifi of the airport only to receive one message from ryujin.

5:50 pm my baby 👭: mark will be picking u up from the airport, hyuck and i had last minute kinks to work out for the wedding but i’ll come and get u tonight for the bachelorette party! i’m so sorry 😞

she even had the nerve, the audacity to send the sad emoji but all you could do was feel your heart racing from anxiety. so you quickly typed back in a panic -

that’s ok! i can just take a taxi, no need for mark to come!

but she answered immediately as if she were waiting for your response, and her only message was, “he’s already there!”

and you were going to fucking kill her. you were absolutely going to murder her before she even got the chance to step one toe down the aisle. you didn’t even bother responding to the text, your anxiety and frustration making an uncomfortable mix in your chest and if you weren’t already thirty seconds from a panic attack, your phone buzzed again and with sweaty palms you checked it.

6:05 pm ml 🐯🥰: ryujin gave me your new number, sorry if this is weird. but i’m outside in the blue car, take your time though.

6:06 pm ml 🐯🥰: this is mark, btw

you internally screamed as you read the message over and over again, the contact name being another thing you also didn’t have the heart to change like your wallpaper, truly thinking you would never see it pop up again. you abruptly sat on the nearest bench as you waited for your checked luggage to arrive at the baggage carousel, the people who were standing around you edged further away from you. flashing you concerned looks at your apparent mental break down, but you could hardly even blink. you felt your heart rising in your throat and you tried to breathe through your nose and out through your mouth.

you tried slowly counting to five.

you tried breathing in for a few seconds and breathing out slower.

as you sat, you tried every calming technique you could think of.

it wasn’t until an elderly lady placed a gentle hand on your shoulder causing you to jump slightly and she gave you a kind look.

“everything is going to be okay,” she said as she gently rubbed your back and then just… walked away. the sudden appearance and disappearance of her making your panic halt in an instant in the distraction.

then the carousel whirred to life, and you had to rush over to haul your bag off of the moving belt before you had to wait for it to come around again. you really should have let it circle around a few times, but that idea came to you after you had already set the suitcase on the ground.

the kindness from the older woman, and the knowledge that you would be able to thoroughly murder your friend in a few short hours helped you to steel your nerves as you exited the airport and quickly found the blue car mark was driving.

it was easy to spot because he was literally leaning against it while he stared at his phone. you hesitated a moment, taking him in and god did he look good in those jeans and that sweater. the thoughts getting away from you before you could stop them but immediately scolded yourself.

steadying yourself with a quick breath, you rolled your suitcase up to the trunk and he jerked his head up at the sudden movement.

“oh, hi. i was waiting for a response from you- but, uh, um, here! let me get that.” he said quickly as he reached for your bag to help you heave it into the trunk but you put your hand up to stop him, taking a step back to create space.

“it’s okay,” you said, a little too curt with him. “i can do it myself.” and mark instantly deflated, your heart jumping at the need to fix that look.

no, you scolded yourself and internally forced your heart to still. he’s not yours anymore.

you made sure of that.

mark stepped back and let you lift up the heavy suitcase yourself, dropping it ever so gracefully in the trunk. you closed it and tried not to make eye contact as you moved around mark to get into the passenger seat. when you shut the door you couldn’t stop yourself from looking in the side mirror to see him frown and he shook his head at himself. you breathed a sigh of relief out. the ‘ripping off the bandaid’ part over and done with.

he got in to his side of the car smoothly, and you prepared yourself for an awkward silence the entire ride to the hotel.

“we’re staying at the same place, so that’s cool!” mark said casually, trying to create some form of conversation, of peace. you didn’t respond to what he said, instead opting for a different approach.

“you didn’t need to come and get me,” you said quietly as you stared at the passing cars on the road.

“i wanted to,” he said just as quietly, and you flinched internally at what sounded like sadness. he said your name, and then hesitated. after a few moments of silence, you saw his reflection in the window shake his head slightly as he decided against saying whatever it was.

“never mind.” was the last word uttered of the drive.

the tension weighed heavily on your already wounded heart.

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fate had it out for you. she must really enjoy screwing you over. because what you kept thinking would be the hardest part… kept continuously turning out to absolutely not be the hardest part, as if she were taunting you.

exhibit d:

“what do you mean my reservation was canceled?” you asked the hotel concierge for the third time in a row, causing her to sigh in frustration at you, finally cracking her happy persona she had to wear for her job.

“ma’am, i really don’t know how else to explain it to you. it says here it was canceled, and your room was already booked by someone else.”

“well unbook it!” you insisted, all but yelling out at that point, completely fed up. “i didn’t cancel my reservation, so it must have been a system error. isn’t there anything you can do to fix this?”

“i’m sorry,” the woman said again. “we’re fully booked for a wedding that’s taking place in a few days.”

“i-“ you paused pinching the bridge of your nose tightly, taking a moment to deeply inhale. you were going to have to google better calming techniques. “i. know. because i am in that wedding!” you hissed between clenched teeth and when the woman reached for the phone in fear, to call what you presumed was the security, mark stepped in suddenly. he leaned against the tall counter, and his sudden closeness made you jerk your head up to make eye contact with him.

“i booked a suite with an extra bed, it may be a little… um, awkward but the bed is yours if you want it.” his ears were turning red, but his voice sounded genuine. as if he truly meant his offer and god you wanted to crawl into the nearest hole and never come out. knowing your options were limited to this or staying with your parents who lived two hours outside of the city, you really didn’t have any other choice.

fate was absolutely fucking with you just because she could, was the only thought on replay as you were getting ready in the bathroom for the bachelorette party that night. considering you had slept on the plane, you weren’t tired yet and you figured you’d be able to sleep off the jetlag with a nice hangover before the rehearsal dinner the next evening. putting the final touches on your makeup, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you could do this.

you could do this.

you could do this.

you repeated those three sentences like a mantra to yourself over and over, trying to give yourself the confidence to leave the room and be in the same space as mark again, but it seemed like the universe had different plans as your inner musings were interrupted.

“you look… really pretty.” he said in the entrance of the bathroom, his body blocking the only exit from the room. you looked down to avoid the eye contact in the mirror he was giving you, and muttered a quiet, “thank you.”

he paused a moment more before saying your name, for the second time since you had seen him, and hearing his voice saying your name in that way as opposed to the first time… it almost made tears spring to your eyes.

“i just wanted-“ he started, but for the first time since you had been told of this wedding, something (because it definitely wasn’t fate) decided to take pity on you and give you a break because at that moment you got a text from ryujin.

9:45 pm murder victim (1) 🔪: here babe!!

and you instantly sighed in relief. cutting mark off from what you were sure he had spent the last hour building up the courage to say, you turned on your heel and said, “ryu’s here! gotta go.”

you brushed past him to exit the hotel room, not even noticing that you had forgotten the door key on your way out.

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it was three am.

or maybe four.

you weren’t sure.

you spent the first twenty minutes of the night scolding the hell out of ryujin in the back of the uber and she just took it with a grin.

“and just what is so funny?” you huffed at her, crossing your arms and allowing your brows to stay furrowed.

“it’s almost like the universe is telling you to get back together.” she sang, and wiggled her eyebrows at you. you threw your hands up in exasperation, drawing eyes from the driver through the rearview mirror. giving a slight bow of apology to him you turned back to ryujin only to roll your eyes at her.

“no, the universe likes watching me hit a newly discovered rock bottom. we’re not getting back together and i’m sure he’ll be happy to have me gone once your wedding is over.” ryujin only shrugged and you didn’t hear it when she muttered, “i wouldn’t be so sure.”

when the uber dropped you off in front of the first club of the night, your sour mood dispersed in a second as you headed inside.

you and ryujin, along with her other bridesmaids in her party, heejin, yeji, and jimin had bounced from club to club and you had thoroughly drank your cares away. you were no longer thinking about how fate was a bitch. you were no longer thinking about the doom and gloom you were feeling.

you were no longer thinking about mark.

except that last one was a lie because he was the only thought that occupied your brain through the night, so much so that ryujin had to cover your mouth with her hand to stop your rambling about him.

but as the dawn crept closer and closer, all of you were calling it quits. yeji had lost a shoe somewhere along the way and jimin had left thirty minutes before, taking a whiny yeji with her; heejin was finally getting into her uber after ten minutes of drunkenly explaining that no, she wasn’t in the building the street over, and yes the gps was actually wrong. it just left you and ryujin as you waited for donghyuck to come pick you up, knowing he was on standby for the designated driver role of the morning. ryujin held your hand and affectionately laid her head on your shoulder. you copied the action and turned so you could hug each other and sway back and forth, the scene cute if not for the fact that anyone watching could tell that you were both heavily intoxicated if the giggles coming from you both after each dramatic sway were any indicator.

“you know everything is gonna be okay,” she slurred a little too loudly in your ear and the phrase made you think of something but you couldn’t quite remember what it was.

“i know,” you giggled at her, grinning brightly and you both squeezed each other tighter. you couldn’t remember in that moment what needed to be okay.

“hey, that’s my future wife! if you wanted her you should have proposed first!” you both turned to see donghyuck smiling widely, as he leaned across the center console to be able to tease you both out of the passenger window. you answered by sticking your tongue out childishly at him and ryujin answered by kissing your cheek with a loud, exaggerated smack, leaving a red stain on your cheek from what was left of her lipstick.

“i could have had her years before you even knew her, and i’ll have her years after you. remember that!” you said while pointing your fingers at your eyes and turning them on him. he rolled his eyes and sarcastically mimicked your response before motioning for you both to get in the car.

the drive back to the hotel was quiet and for the first time that night you checked your phone.

11:03 pm ml 🐯🥰: hey, i just noticed you left your keycard to get back in the hotel

12:00 am ml 🐯🥰: i’ll sleep with my phone off of silent, just call when you get back and i’ll let you in

2:15 am ml 🐯🥰: please be safe, let me know if i need to come get you

your heart fluttered at his messages and you drunkenly smiled at how he still cared. you covered your mouth to hide your smile but the sober one in the car didn’t miss the way your eyes lit up in a way that neither he nor ryujin had seen on you in five months. he could only smirk to himself as he drove, promising to himself to tell ryujin about what he saw the next morning.

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you stumbled your way down the hallway, stopping and taking off one shoe as it was rubbing your foot painfully. then after a few steps you realized how silly it was to walk with one heel on and you clumsily leaned against the wall to pull off the other shoe. arriving to the door, you giggled at the idea of getting to call and talk to mark.

mark was here, with you.

you were here, with mark.

something you’d never thought would happen again and it made your heart soar. giggling again at that thought you pulled out your phone. hitting the call button, he picked up after the third ring and you sighed as you leaned against the door frame, allowing it to hold you up.

“hello?” his voice was raspy from sleep and it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“hi,” you giggled once more, and you internally smacked yourself this time.

play it cool or don’t talk yourself into sounding like an idiot, you told yourself.

“hi,” he parroted back to you. “are you okay? do i need to come get you?”

“yeah, can you please?” and you heard rustling through the phone.

“okay, i’m on my way. where are you?” he didn’t hesitate. he didn’t even sigh. he didn’t seem annoyed by having to help you. he seemed… almost happy in the way he said his words. as if you could audibly hear the smile. but maybe that was the alcohol letting you hear what you wanted to hear. you heard him walking around in the hotel room through the phone, and saw a light flick on from the little sliver of a gap under the door.

“on the other side of the door,” you smiled, laughing a little harder at your own joke and the door jerked open to reveal mark in all his sleepy glory. shirt wrinkled and hair sticking out at in odd directions. his relief, however, made way to his smile and he couldn’t help but stare down at you for a moment… but you, you were definitely still drunk. and who needs inhibitions to tell you not to do something anyways? not you, that’s for sure.

“my pretty maaaark!” you sang, as you threw yourself against him, or well, fell against him would be a better term for what happened.

he froze at the sudden affection from you, arms raised at awkward angles above your body before allowing his arms to lower and hug you back gently.

“i’m so sleepy, mark.” you slurred against his chest and you nuzzled your cheek against it, thinking about how soft this shirt was. he huffed a small laugh and pulled you further into the room so he could close the door.

“okay, let’s get you to bed then. c’mon.” and he helped you walk (in reality he half carried you) towards the shared bedroom.

“mark,” you called his name again softly. he glanced down at you and he noticed you were already looking up at him, arms still wrapped around his waist.

“mm?” he answered as he navigated you finally over to the bed.

“i’m so happy,” you said to him and somehow, fate again you assumed - that bitch - you simultaneously tripped over your own drunk feet and tumbled back onto the bed. your arms that were still wrapped around his waist gave him no choice but to fall with you, or well, on top of you. he caught himself instead of crushing you, an arm on each side of your head, caging you in.

he looked down at you and your body acting off it’s own accord by gripping his shirt tightly at his waist. you couldn’t help but stare at his face for a few long seconds, eyes going from his eyes, up to his hair, down to his lips, back to his eyes, and then back to his lips one last time.

“and why is that?” he asked, bringing you back to the moment before you tripped. and although your eyes had drifted back up to his eyes, he noticed that yours started to slowly flutter closed, as if you were fighting sleep but the alcohol was winning. your bright smile you gave him while you were thinking of the answer made his heart beat fast, but the words you said next made it stop entirely.

“because i get to be here with you, even if it’s just for a moment. i missed you so much, my mark, all marked in my heart.” you laughed softly again at your own joke, referencing back to a pickup line he had given you that made you say yes to his first request of a date. he couldn’t help the melancholy feeling that overcame him as he looked down at your sleeping form, the alcohol finally taking you from awake to asleep within seconds.

“i’m happy too,” he whispered though you didn’t hear it.

if only you knew how happy he actually was.

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the next day, you surprisingly slept well considering it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon and you were still in your clothes from last night. the curtains were drawn tightly as to not let any light in, and you groaned at the headache that pulsed behind your eyelids. you knew the room was empty based on the the silence and you were grateful for it as you felt embarrassed by your actions the night before. why the hell would you say that to mark? if you wanted him to hate you, well, you were doing a damn good job of solidifying that. you searched for your phone amongst the blankets and pillows to check your messages.

11:15 am murder victim (2) 🔫: mark said earlier that you forgot your key, hope you ‘got in’ okay ;)

11:30 am murder victim (1) 🔪: hi babe, how’s the hangover? the rehearsal is at 5. text me when u get up, ily 😘

11:47 am ml 🐯🥰: i put tylenol by the bed with some water, i would have ordered you food but didn’t know what time you’d be getting up. see you later

your heart gave way at the kind gesture as you flipped on a light switch and squinted at the brightness, quickly finding the medicine and downing it in one go to quickly turn off the light again.

maybe he wasn’t hating you like you thought.

you gave yourself thirty minutes to try and let the headache lose the battle with the medicine you took and finally rolled out of bed to take a shower, doing everything you could think of to keep mark and his never ending kindness off of your mind. you got ready in record time, and somehow made it to the rehearsal on time with five minutes to spare.

you ran through the wedding fairly quickly, and you most certainly did not blush as mark took your arms in his to walk you down the aisle for the practice run. besides that, you didn’t get a chance to look at mark until it came to dinner with the wedding party for the night.

fate, and you couldn’t say you were mad at her this time, had allowed mark to sit next to you during dinner.

“so mark,” yeji had said as she stuffed a piece of broccoli into her mouth. “what’s it like being famous now?”

he groaned in answer. his hand moved ever so slightly to the right and his pinky was suddenly touching yours. your eyes widened but you didn’t move your hand away, allowing his hand to rest next to yours. it felt like something from middle school when you would get excited over your crush, your eyes laser-focused on where you were connected.

“i mean, of course i’m happy to have found success in it.”

success.

that word alone sent you back to The Moment five months ago.

success was all that you wanted for mark, you were happy to watch him as he acted on set. with the way his schedule had been lining up, you hardly saw him. so when you suggested that maybe you could spend the day with him on set while he worked, he didn’t say no to you. it made you happy that he made you feel like he was fitting time in with you even if he was insanely busy.

you missed spending time with him, and you really… just… missed him. his absence making your worries and self doubts grow more eminent but you were both usually good at communicating so it wasn’t a constant worry, but the worry was there all the same.

mark had just left you to begin another scene, leaving you sitting in his chair that was off to the side and you couldn’t stop your eyes from following him around the room, watching his interactions with his cast mates.

a body landing into the chair next to yours caused you to jump and you turned to see his manager sitting next to you, leaning to the side to be just on the verge of invading your space. she was a stone faced woman, perfectly presented down to the red polish of her nails.

you had only met her a few times but she seemed… nice enough. you couldn’t deny that she worked hard to get mark solid chances and auditions so you appreciated her as mark did.

the situation at hand made you uncomfortable for some reason though, your gut telling you to move away from her.

you didn’t listen.

“so,” his manager began slowly, not making eye contact with you, instead her eyes were following mark as yours had been doing moments before.

“so…?” you prompted when she didn’t begin speaking right away.

“we need to talk… and i’m taking the initiative because mark’s too kind and won’t do it.” this caught you off guard entirely. mark was keeping something from you? you were both good terrible secret keepers with each other and this seemed so unlike him.

but, you thought, his manager was with him when you weren’t so maybe…

“oh…” you said, and finally his manager made eye contact with you. the cold stare she was giving you sent shivers down your spine.

“look, sweetie. this… this relationship you have with mark. it isn’t working.” and she patted you on the shoulder as if this were good news. “it isn’t going to work for his image or his future. you know you’re holding him back from the future he could have. the future he deserves. why do you want to burden him any further than you already have?” she asked, voice dripping with a sense of sweetness that screamed condescension.

you stilled at that instantly. the thought that you may have been the problem the entire time you were together… that you were the reason as to why he couldn’t get auditions… you would be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind.

“but mark never said…” you argued weakly, playing with your fingers all while trying not to make eye contact with the woman sitting next to you.

“of course he wouldn’t, dear. he knows you’re too… fragile.” she sneered at the last word, her disdain for you being glaringly obvious as the conversation carried on. your anxiety made you fragile? mark had talked about you to her?

when you didn’t respond right away, mind racing, mark’s manager stood up.

“if you want to be selfish, and ruin his chances at success then that’s fine. just know any future failures would be on you. if you truly loved him, you’d do this for him. you’d leave.” her voice changed sharply within that sentence, the word selfish becoming a thicker blanket on top of burden in your mind and it was like you couldn’t breathe.

the anxiety stemming from the words she had just said - the fears you had been harboring for months, the thoughts that you had been smothering like a fire in the back of your mind suddenly roared to life, and the sudden heat was too hot for you to handle in the moment.

the idea of mark possibly resenting you in the future for things you knew were out of your control, it shook you… and it was minutes of spiraling into yourself before you realized that his manger had been long gone and the director had called cut.

mark stopped by where you sat for a brief moment to tell you that he had to go to the the hair and makeup trailer and he would be back soon. the fact that he didn’t tell you that he loved you with a quick kiss like he usually would being the final nail in the coffin for you in believing every word.

you got up and left the set that day, going to your shared home with mark and realized there wasn’t much that you wanted to take anyway. your heart was shattered and everything you’d take would only remind you of him.

you had packed a suitcase, and sat for a long time contemplating if you wanted to leave a letter but then ultimately decided that if he was already feeling burdened by you, you’d be doing him a favor by not making it hard on him. or well, any harder.

allowing that memory to play all the way through for the first time since seeing him made you feel as if reality had punched you in the stomach, and it sobered you up quickly. the heavy weight of your anxiety was back and it settled on your chest. the bubble of happiness you felt at the slightest touch, at the first sight of him after being apart from him for so long… all gone in an instant.

remember you’re the burden, you did this for him, you chided yourself sadly in your head. you were the reason why you both were estranged.

you gently moved your hand away to rest it in your lap. mark cut his eyes to you suddenly but you missed the glance and you missed the way he was still looking at you as he said, “but i’m just happy to be here with you… with all of you again.”

he tore his eyes away from your face to look at yeji and she smiled knowingly, eyes darting from mark to you. the room felt small to you then, almost suffocating. the sudden appearance of someone to the table brought you to the present.

“dessert will be coming out soon,” the waitress said to ryujin.

your appetite was gone entirely, and you had to get out of there. you leaned over and whispered in ryujin’s ear that you loved her but you were heading up to the room. you felt the tears were coming, because reality was the bitch this time instead of fate.

the kindness mark was showing you during all of this was making your heart ache and it was bringing up the pain that you desperately fought off for five months. excusing yourself from the table, you told everyone goodnight and made a beeline for the elevator that would take you up to the room.

stepping inside and punching the floor number, you hit the close door button frantically and bit your lip to try and keep the tears from coming as long as possible. the doors were almost closed when a hand suddenly blocked it and it opened again, revealing mark and he stepped inside, awkwardly coughing at the dramatics of it all.

you stepped to the side of the elevator and didn’t look up from your fingernails that you played with to avoid eye contact at all costs. the awkward tension filled the elevator thickly and you could feel mark’s stare boring holes into the side of your head. when the elevator finally dinged with the arrival of your floor, you’d never felt more grateful for the annoying sound.

all but running from the elevator, you headed to the room only to realize that, fuck, yes you were actually staying in mark’s room and no, he wasn’t riding the elevator for fun. his steps sounded behind yours and you pointedly didn’t say a word to him as you both entered the room. his presence didn’t deter your tears that had been threatening to spill, in fact it only made them more prevalent and it was taking all that you could do to not let them fall. the click of the door being shut made you flinch a little in anticipation of what came next, and mark cleared his throat.

“so, um…” he began, hesitating while trying to find the right words on how to approach this before continuing. “i think - i think we should talk. you said something’s last night and it… it really has me confused and i just need, no, i deserve an explanation.” when he finished his sentence his words sounded pained.

you did guess that you owed him an explanation.

but you didn’t want to give it to him.

the same way you felt you deserved one as well, but you didn’t want the confirmation.

“i’m sorry, mark.” you said, voice barely above a whisper. and it was the only thing you had to say in that moment, anything over three words and your voice would have cracked. you kept your back to him as you walked over to the bathroom and shut the door, not wanting to see his face during this.

you really were a coward, you thought.

you heard mark approach the other side of the door and stop.

“you’re- you’re sorry?” he asked, and then with a hint of sarcasm, he finally decided to bring up the biggest and obvious elephant in the room. “you’re sorry for what? leaving or are you sorry for what you said last night? are you going to tell me you didn’t mean it now?” and you could only shake your head even though he couldn’t see.

“all of it.” you choked out.

“all- ha, all of it?” his laugh was dry. your silence was answer enough.

“you left me. you left me without an explanation. without a single note and then you changed your number! i thought you had just left the set but i came home to find you gone. what could i have possibly done that would have deserved that? what did i do?”

“it’s…” you started from the other side of the door, tears falling at the desperation in his voice. but mark was on a roll, months of pent up frustration and sadness finally boiling over.

“you were there with me and then you weren’t and you hurt me, y/n. you absolutely broke my heart, you know that? i almost quit the movie entirely.”

“if you had, then it would have been for nothing.” you cried from the other side of the door.

“what are you even talking about?”

you flung open the door suddenly, mark taking in your tear stained face, your eyes red and bloodshot.

“i left you for you, mark.”

“i don’t-.”

“you said i broke your heart, but i broke my own first. i left you for you!”

“i never asked you to do that!”

“you didn’t have to! she did it for you. i left so i wouldn’t hold you back anymore. i was holding you back, i was burdening you, i was keeping you from the successful career you worked so hard to achieve.” you placed your hand on your chest and took a deep breath, “i admit that i was a coward in not waiting, but i couldn’t handle hearing the confirmation of it all from you. so i did it for you, i left so i wouldn’t be selfish.” you spat out the last word like it was poison, the word that had been torturing you these past five months, all while pointing your finger at mark as if to drive home your point.

“she-? you… selfish? what the hell are you even talking about?” he asked, eyebrows fully drawn together in confusion. you scoffed.

“don’t act as if you hadn’t talked to her about me. about how you couldn’t tell me any of this because i was fragile.” your mouth twisted with that sentence, and your emotions didn’t know whether to be angry or sad. so you continued to cry because, yeah, that would cover all the bases.

marks mouth clicked shut as things started to come together in his mind. pieces falling into place and then he was suddenly livid.

mark was silent for a moment, his lips pursed and his eyes thunderous - you could only assume that fury was directed at you considering his eyes never left yours, and you swallowed nervously.

“y/n…” mark started slowly, his voice dropping dangerously low in his anger, “who exactly do you mean when you say the word ‘she’?”

you hesitated a little, never knowing mark to get this angry.

“your… manager.” you murmured and mark’s jaw clenched, and you felt your anger dissipate entirely as his took over. as the seconds ticked on, you watched as mark reached into his back pocket and withdrew his phone, he only broke eye contact for a second to click the name he was searching for and he brought his eyes back to yours. your eyebrows drew together in confusion.

who would he be calling during the middle of the argument - and finally you heard it when the other person answered the phone and you could recognize that sickly sweet voice anywhere. your jaw dropped and you made to stomp away when mark used his other hand to gently hold onto your arm, pulling you a bit closer than you were before to stand in front of him.

“mark, honey, i’ve been waiting for you to call! how’s korea? you just have to tell me all about it.” she asked loudly through the phone and you frowned at the way she spoke to mark.

“korea’s fine,” he chirped politely as if his eyes weren’t telling you otherwise. “my family is well, the wedding is going as planned, and linda, you’ll never guess who i ran into!”

“oh do tell, you know i love the gossip.” she laughed through the phone and you saw mark’s eyes darken.

“y/n.” the anger in which he said your name, but it not being directed at you, was both a relief and worried you at the same time.

the deafening silence from her end was answer enough for mark.

“and she told me the funniest story,” snark dripping from every word, “hilarious actually. but i think i’d rather hear it from the horses mouth, you know?”

“look, mark, sweetie, i’m sure she misunderstood or she must have been confused by our conversation that day, i only meant to tell her-“

“what?” mark interjected. “tell her that she was burdening me? holding me back? that i called her fragile? i think that’s exactly what you meant.”

she hesitated before answering, but her answering tone was the same as she used with you that day.

sweet condescension.

“well, yes. she was bad for you,” she said shortly.

“oh no, i disagree entirely. i think the one bad for me, was in fact, you.” and she sputtered on the other end of the phone and you couldn’t help the small upturn of your lips to hear her at a loss for words, the smile not going unnoticed by mark if the softening of his eyes were any indicator.

you realized in that moment how you let your anxiety and self doubts ruin something that was perfectly fine to begin with.

linda scoffed, the haughty sound coming in loud through the phone’s speaker.

“oh, please. you’ll thank me someday when you’re big and famous, dating some supermodel. someone at your level of fame.”

mark was silent, his eyes taking in your face and he knew how hard hearing things like this must have been for you. he knew of your insecurities, and he thought he did his best to reassure you but he realized the one time it mattered most, he let it slip through the cracks.

he realized his lack of presence in that moment ruined what you both had.

linda took his extended pause as agreement with what she was saying.

“see? you know that i’m right. anyway, mark, honey, let’s-!” mark cut her off mid-sentence.

“no, what i know… is that you’re fired.” he said calmly, and your eyebrows raised and your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to argue - yes, you hated the woman but she had helped him with his career. mark lifted the hand that had been gently holding your arm to place a finger on your lips, effectively shutting you up with a smile on his face.

linda screeched through the phone, an abrasive noise that sounded awfully like a dying cat.

“you can’t fire me, you ungrateful d-.” and mark hung up the phone, tossing it onto the counter of the kitchenette behind him.

you swallowed thickly now at the sudden silence that fell over the room. mark moved his hand from your lips to wipe the tears that had ran down your face earlier and you avoided eye contact with him then at the gentleness of his hands.

“mark, i…”

“you said you loved me, so you left. did you stay away because you loved me too? change your number for the same reason?”

you nodded, “i thought i would be making it easier for you…”

“do you still love me now?” your eyes snapped back up to his. you decided to be truthful.

“i can’t do anything but love you.” mark’s smile at your answer ignited butterflies in your stomach.

“and i…” he said stepping closer into your space, reaching down to hold your hand in his as he brought it to his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm that you could feel. “i have no choice but to love you.”

you felt tears well up again in your eyes at his admission, and you bit your lip to try to keep them from spilling over.

“you still… are you still in love with me?” your voice quivered, and you cleared your throat trying to tame the burning sensation that came with holding back your tears.

“without a doubt.”

“well, if you really do love me… if you love me like i love you then…” you looked between his eyes to his lips, and as you blinked the tears you had been holding back fell. and mark tilted his head, his playful smile making you smile with him through the tears.

“then kiss me.”

mark didn’t waste any more time, one hand tangling itself in your hair and the other cupping your jaw tenderly and you melted into the kiss, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling his body flush against yours. five months of anger and sadness and longing pouring out in the movement of your lips. you were crying still but the tears were more out of happiness this time and mark continued to kiss you through it. he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, lips centimeters from yours, his breath hitting your lips and you closed your eyes, both of you breathing heavily. his voice was soft when he spoke.

“five months spent wasted because i didn’t reassure you enough, i’m… i’m so sorry, y/n.”

“and five months gone because i was too afraid to talk to you… i’m sorry, too.” and you opened your eyes to see he had tears in his eyes this time and you let out a small laugh.

“did you miss me that much?” you joked softly, eyes shining with the happiness that you had pushed down finally seeping through.

“shut up,” he groaned and swept in to kiss you again.

that night, neither of you slept alone in your separate beds.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

the next day found you and mark, surprisingly (to everyone else) friendly, almost flirty, with each other and it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else in the wedding party. ryujin walked down the aisle to an overjoyed donghyuck and the proceedings went on without a hitch.

the reception was loud, and a bit wild as after the first dance, no other slow song was played. ryujin and donghyuck made it feel like you were clubbing, and if you danced with mark a tiny bit provocatively, no one seemed to notice or care.

during one of your breaks from dancing while you stood near one of the tables, you felt a hand tap on your shoulder and you turned to face them. once you saw their face, your jaw dropped.

“it’s you!” you couldn’t help the gratitude that laced your voice.

the old lady from the airport stood there, the wrinkles from years of smiling showing proudly on her face.

“see, i told you everything would be okay, didn’t i?”

you nodded, smiling and you couldn’t help yourself when you leaned in and gave the woman a hug.

“grandma? you know y/n?” it was mark’s confused voice that came from over your shoulder, coming behind you to rest his hand on the small of your back.

“oh, not really…” she gave you a secret smile, and continued, “but mark, dear. do tell ryujin and donghyuck it was a beautiful wedding for me, i’m sorry but i’m too old to stay up with the younger crowd nowadays.” she patted mark on the arm and said goodnight to you both, leaving you with a wink. mark looked back and forth between you and her and you only shrugged in answer, and you pulled him back out to the dance floor with a smile.

eventually, the night had to come to an end though, but not before the traditional throwing of the bouquet. you were pulled onto the floor with the other bridesmaids and the second ryujin tossed the flowers over her head, the other girls dispersed leaving you to be the only one standing to catch it. you were confused at first but when ryujin gave you a knowing smile, you couldn’t help but laugh at their group effort. and so you turned around to find mark smiling at you and clapping at the edge of the crowd, and you smiled brightly at him as if he hung the stars himself, newfound confidence in every step as you walked up to him.

you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him fully in front of the guests who remained, mostly the small group of friends who all knew each other well. mark wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you slightly off the ground, while your friends cheered dramatically behind you.

breaking the kiss you smiled at mark before he set you down, and both you and mark turned and caught sight of ryujin and donghyuck sharing a highly triumphant high five.

it all clicked then, every step had been planned by your cunning best friend… and you couldn’t even be mad anymore.

how could you be, when it all turned out to be okay?

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

epilogue:

you sat at the table of celebrities like you belonged there, no longer feeling as if you were the misfit amongst them.

a year and a half had passed since ryujin and donghyuck’s wedding and with it came changes.

all of them, you could say, were good.

you battled your anxiety and won… well mostly won, you still had your moments but the second you called mark for reassurance, he was there in an instant with gentle words of affirmation, which you discovered was your love language.

you and mark got married six months after donghyuck and ryujin did, and mark’s reasoning was sound in his opinion.

“i spent five months apart from you, and i think i’ll die if i have to do it again. so i’m locking you down, babe.”

you couldn’t argue with him on that.

and now this moment, the moment where upon hearing mark’s name being called you stood up and cheered, clapping a little louder than the famous people next to you. mark kissed you quickly before running up on stage to receive his award.

it wasn’t an oscar… yet.

but the golden globe would do.

his speech went as he rehearsed with you in your bedroom in the off chance he won. being nominated was enough for him, he had said but you encouraged him to have a speech prepared, just in case.

you had no doubts he would win tonight.

you were right.

his speech was coming to an end, something you could quote with him word for word, until you heard him derail from what he practiced beforehand.

“and i just wanna say the biggest thanks of all to my wife. who, without her, only half of my dream would have been achieved,” he gestured the award to you and the smile he wore was lighting up his entire face. “without you, this wouldn’t matter at all to me. so this one’s all for you, babe. thank you.”

you stood and clapped again, accepting mark back to his seat with an excited hug.

fate - well, ryujin - may have had it out for you, but it was okay in the end.

and you could honestly live with that.

#gimmehyuck #masterlist #nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct #nct dream #nct dream au #mark au #mark lee #mark lee au #mark lee fic #mark lee x you #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #technically? #this made me fall for mark so hard ngl #he’s so precious

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Lesson Learned || Fred Weasley

Title: Lesson Learned Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: When Fred catches Y/N doing something he doesn’t approve of he’s got no choice but to teach her a valuable lesson Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This includes consensual non-consensual sex, meaning that during the sex scene it is made to seem that the female reader did not consent, but it is revealed after that reader and Fred are in a relationship and this was a preplanned encounter - if you don’t like that don’t read! vaginal sex, degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex, possessive/jealous behavior,mentions of violence. A/N: my last little fic of the year!! Thank you to everyone who has supported me, I couldn’t do this without you! I’ve been out of the smut game for so long I needed some practice so this was born! Tags: @darthwheezely since she requested this and i love her endlessly <3

“What the fuck?”

Ice sprays across the rink as Fred comes to a halt, ripping his helmet off so he can be sure he’s actually seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. Because surely even a jersey chaser like Y/N has to have some standards, and there’s no way she’s standing there talking no - flirting with an idiot like Cedric Diggory. 

The captain of their biggest rival and an all around mega douche. 

But it turns out his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Y/N is leaning on the edge of the barrier batting her eyelashes at Cedric as he regales her with some story that Fred is sure the idiot made up to make himself seem cooler. He just about loses his mind when Y/N throws her head back and laughs, her hand coming up to rest on Cedric’s arm. 

Luckily Coach blows his whistle to bring them all back from their warm up skate, or Fred would certainly find himself ejected for being the shit out of Cedric before the game even begins. He skates back with the rest of the team reluctantly, already figuring out how to deal with Cedric on the ice - and how to deal with Y/N off of it. 

-

“Holy fuck Weasley you were an animal out there!” 

Fred grins as he teammates hoop and holler around him in the locker room, still fresh on adrenaline from their crushing defeat over the Baltimore Badgers. Fueled by the rage of seeing Y/N flirt with Diggory, Fred had been on fire from the second the ref blew the whistle. He skated faster than he ever had before, and hit harder too. By the second quarter three of the Badger’s best players were benched with injuries from being slammed into the boards by Fred, and he’d even managed to break Diggory’s nose during a fight.

The 10 minutes in the penalty box had been worth it. 

“Just doing what I do best!” Fred shouts back nonchalantly as he rewraps his knuckles.

He takes his time getting ready after the game, thankful that the game was at home today so there’s no need to rush to the airport for their flight back. Because he knows that Y/N is always the last one to go home, still new to her job as the assistant manager and eager to please everybody. He also knows that while everyone is in the locker room Y/N is in the rink, checking the bench and bleachers for anything anyone may have left behind. 

When there’s only a few guys left in the showers Fred decides to put his plan into action. He shoves his bag under one of the benches, and yells a goodbye to his teammates as he slips out of the locker room. Moving as silently as he can, Fred makes his way through the tunnel and out into the rink, crouching down as he reaches the opening in case Y/N happens to be getting ready to come that way. He peeks around the corner best he can and a thrill runs down his spine when he sees Y/N over by the team bench. She’s down on her hands and knees as she reaches for something, and Fred makes his move. 

“Jesus Christ,” Y/N shouts as she stands up, surprised to find Fred leaning against the rink watching her. “You scared the shit out of me Fred, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he responds, crossing his arms. 

“Doing my job, obviously.”

Fred gives her a look. “That’s not what I was referring to.”

“Well can you just get to the point then? I’d like to finish up here so I can get home,” Y/N huffs.

“My point is,” Fred starts, tone dripping with condescension. “What the fuck were you doing flirting with Cedric fucking Diggory before the game?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s what,” Y/N spits back. “Last I checked I was allowed to screw whoever I want.”

Fred pushes off from the sideboard then, taking a slow step towards Y/N. He’s almost ashamed to admit that a thrill runs down his spine when she takes a step back. “Oh really?”

All the anger seeps from Y/N’s body and is replaced by fear at the tone of Fred’s voice. The look on his face makes her knees tremble as he continues his slow pace forward, her own steps retreating at the same pace. In an effort to distract him she throws the water bottle in her hand as hard as she can, not bothering to watch it hit him. Instead she turns around, trying to make a break for the tunnel.

Except Fred is quicker, not even deterred by the bottle smacking him in the chest he lets out a low growl, and it only takes three strides before he’s grabbing Y/N by the waist. 

“Fucking, bitch,” he seethes, throwing her against the sideboard.

Before she can even think Fred is pressed up against her, pinning Y/N between the sideboard and his body. A hand twists around her hair, pulling hard to yank her head back. “Now you listen to me,” he growls, leaning in to speak against the shell of her ear. “You fuck me and only me, understand?”

“Fred,” Y/N murmurs, voice thick with a mixture of fear and sadness. “Please.”

He yanks her hair, cock twitching at the yelp in pain that leaves her lips. “Guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson, hm?”

Y/N fights against Fred as one of his hands drops to the waistband of her leggings, squirming in a desperate attempt to get away from him. But his grip on her hair is strong, and his hips have her pinned to the sideboard. “Fred, no,” she gasps, skin suddenly exposed to the cool air of the rink. 

“No panties,” he coos, nibbling on Y/N’s earlobe. “It’s like you were asking for it.”

With her leggings around her knees Fred places his free hand on the middle of her shoulders, pressing down so Y/N is bent over the sideboard. He finally releases her hair, satisfied that his hand and hips will be able to keep her in place. 

“Time for me to show you how a real man claims what’s his.”

Y/N gasps as Fred suddenly sinks his cock in her cunt, hips not stopping until he’s fully buried inside. He barely gives her a moment to adjust to the stretch before he’s pulling his cock out half way and fucking back into her hard. 

The only noise in the rink comes from Fred’s labored pants and his belt buckle hitting the sideboard as he sets a brutal pace. Y/N’s hand covers her mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet in the hopes that Fred will just take what he wants and this will all be over soon. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Fred groans. Y/N’s cunt clings to his cock like a glove that was made just for him, and the slick noise her pussy makes as he moves is just barely loud enough for him to hear. 

“Your cunt is unfucking believable,” he praises. “My cunt - isn’t that right sweetheart?” He slaps her ass hard when Y/N only nods - not satisfied with her nonverbal answer. “Who does this fucking cunt belong to Y/N?”

“You,” Y/N sobs out, willing to give Fred anything he wants. “It belongs to you, Fred.”

“Fucking right it does,” Fred grunts in response, pace picking up as he edges closer and closer to his orgasm. “And I’m going to mark this pretty little pussy up so everyone knows it too.”

Y/N lets out a muffled moan as Fred’s cock pulses inside her, her cunt walls throbbing around him as he fills her up with his cum. Her pussy is embarrassingly wet, and she’s afraid to admit that she would have orgasmed too had this encounter lasted any longer. 

As Fred catches his breath he slowly pulls out, eyes drawn to Y/N’s pussy and the way his cum starts to slowly drip out of it. “Fuck,” he whispers, using his thumb to capture a drop before it falls so he can push it back into her.

Fred tucks his cock back into his trousers and zips up silently, and Y/N is too afraid to move. Her knees are trembling from a mixture of fear and her almost orgasm, and she can practically feel Fred’s eyes as he stares at her exposed pussy. 

“I better not see you talking to Diggory or any other fuck head - understand?”

“Yes,” Y/N responds shakily. 

Satisfied with her answer, Fred gives a curt nod before turning to leave. He gives her one last look over his shoulder before heading out of the tunnel - not even bothering to pull her leggings back up. Bad girls don’t deserve chivalry. 

-

When Y/N stumbles out of the guest locker room 45 minutes later, skin pink from her shower, Fred is leaning up against the wall waiting for her. There’s a goofy grin on his face, and soon there is a matching one spreading across hers.

“Baby,” Fred greets as she jumps into his arms, hugging Y/N tight. “That was fucking incredible - I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish.”

She pulls away from the hug, giving Fred a kiss on the cheek. “That’s okay - you can make it up to me at home.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #harry potter #harry poter fanfiction #fw #golden

[goldenseresinretriever]

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 7

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, mentions of major character death, sports violence, mentions of physical violence, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: She’s a long one

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Bradley’s kept his promise to you so far. He’s stayed out of the box and been playing excellently. After your tears had stopped in the hallway earlier, Bradley had taken you to Bugs and she’d confirmed that your ankle was sprained. As a former figure skater, this isn’t your first rodeo so you’d spent the majority of the game seated when you could, even after swapping out your signature heels for the backup sneakers that you keep in your office for emergencies. Your eyes are on the rink as you do your best to ignore the fact that Cyclone’s sitting a few rows back from you.

Your jaw tightens as a Jets defenseman gets a hit on Mickey, slamming him into the boards. A frustrated growl escapes your lips and you feel eyes on you as you glance slightly over to catch Bradley’s gaze as he watches your face silently from where he’s currently sitting on the bench in front of you. Mickey and Reuben hop the boards as they swap out their line and Bugs moves to inspect Mickey’s face where his cheek had met the boards. You usually keep to yourself during games to keep the boys’ concentration on the game but you call to Mickey and he turns, reading the worried expression on your face and flashing a thumbs up, your mutually agreed-on signal that says he’s okay. He reaches a closed fist to you and you bump it with your own, letting out a breath at the realization that he’s okay. Bugs finishes her inspection and steps away to sit next to you.

“That cheek is going to bruise something fierce but other than that, he's fine.” You murmur your thanks and she squeezes your hand, reassuringly.

You look back at the game in time to see Bradley smash the same defensemen into the boards and your mouth goes dry. The poor guy didn’t see the attack coming at all especially given that he hadn’t even touched the puck. You wince at the thought of Bradley’s huge form slamming full-force into the smaller player. You sigh as the ref stops play and calls the boarding penalty on Bradley but you can’t find it in your heart to feel angry as you watch Bradley get led to the box. Sure he’d gone against your specific instructions, but you know this is different. Where Bradley’s usual penalties have been earned by his uncontrolled rage at the world in general, this time it’s clear that he’s retaliating against a player for a hit on his teammate. It’s an improvement if a subtle one, and it brings a faint smile to your lips.

***

You’re waiting in your office for Bradley to come to get you so you can head to game night together. Post-game interviews had run smoothly and now you tabbed through various sites waiting for articles to start popping up for your perusal. A knock sounds at your door and you call for Bradley to come in. You’ve got your feet propped up on your desk since Bugs had recommended keeping your ankle elevated if possible. That leaves them directly in Bradley’s eye line when he comes in, scowling at them.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He mutters and you look up from what you’re doing.

“What?” You follow his gaze to your sparkly silver sneakers with ribbons for laces.

“You can’t seriously be wearing those shoes.” He crosses his arms across his chest and you roll your eyes.

“They’re my backup sneakers if you must know, and I think they're cute.”

“They’re cute all right.” His mocking tone makes you scowl back at him.

“They’re neutral, go with everything, and have some spunky flair, not that I need to explain myself to you.”

“How is that your idea of neutral?” He looks disgusted and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not taking fashion advice from the guy whose wardrobe consists exclusively of t-shirts, Hawaiian shirts, and flannels. You push yourself up in your chair, swinging your feet back down to the ground, making to stand when Bradley moves to help. You hold up a hand to stop him, chin raised defiantly. “You made fun of my shoes, you’re not helping. I can walk by myself, thank you very much.”

He glares at you and you glare right back until he finally moves out of the way as you pull yourself up and limp past him. You catch his hands flexing at his side like he’s actively fighting the urge to carry you again. You collect your belongings and Bradley takes each item from your hands as you pick them up. You glare at him but he simply continues until he’s carrying not only his duffle bag but your purse and laptop bag, holding your coat out in a silent request for you to slip your arms into the sleeves. You do so, grumpily knowing that the night is likely chilly now that the sun is long gone.

The parking garage is deserted except for the Bronco and you climb in as Bradley places your combined belongings into the back seat. A comfortable silence fills the car once again soundtracked by the 80s station as Bradley drives the two of you to his apartment complex. You were a lot more pissed off last time so this time you have to keep from gaping as you pull into the parking garage of the luxury apartment. He grabs his bag and you follow him into a tiny atrium that houses the elevators. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as he presses one of the two special golden buttons indicating the penthouse floors. The two of you watch the numbers climb to 21 until they open onto a small common area surrounded by a few doors. You follow Bradley to the one marked 2114.

“Mom, I’m home,” Bradley calls out and you freeze the entryway. But his mother’s dead? Bradley offers no explanation as he slides open a door on your right and drops off his gym bag before continuing down the hallway that’s lined with various shut doors. No one calls back to him so you timidly limp after him. The hallway opens onto an expansive combined kitchen, dining, and living space. You turn around to examine the space as you enter. Your eyes catch on a table just to the left of where you came in. A large vase of fresh daisies occupies most of it with a framed photograph standing in front of it. It’s of a young couple and as you examine it closely you recognize Nick Bradshaw’s smiling face next to a blonde woman holding a little boy in his arms that you can only assume is Bradley. Next to it is a collage frame of photos of Bradley and the blonde woman you now know to be his mother through the years of his youth. “You done ogling?” You jump at Bradley’s voice.

“Yeah, yeah… sorry.” You murmur awkwardly, embarrassed at being caught staring. “Nice to know you get your curls from your mom, though.” Bradley’s hard expression softens almost imperceptibly as he rolls his eyes and gives you a stern look that’s only half serious. “I’m going to change, try not to set anything on fire.” You roll your eyes back at him, sticking your tongue out. Bradley sighs deeply before heading back down the hallway. You’re left alone in the living room, and you take another moment to stare at the photographs before you hear the click of a door shutting and you let the words slip.

“Thank you, you did a good job with him even if he doesn’t like to show it.” Your lips curl into a soft smile as you finally turn from the photos to snoop around the rest of the room. Both of the outward-facing walls are floor-to-ceiling windows that open onto a wrap-around balcony. Curious, you approach the door, letting yourself out into the night air. Straight ahead of you is a view of the dark smudge of San Diego Bay that you’re sure is breathtaking in the daylight. You let your feet carry you around the corner to where you can see a clear view of Petco Park. Baseball season is long over but you’re sure this is a great spot to watch the games from with the right pair of binoculars.

You keep walking down the balcony, admiring the enviable view and you lose track of the windows behind you until you reach the end of the balcony, turning to make your way back to the door when you come face to face with Bradley Bradshaw’s mostly-naked body. You’re looking through a glass door that opens onto what must be his bedroom. He’s facing away from you, sorting through several shirts he’s laid on the bed, having shed his suit already. He’s left in nothing but a pair of fitted briefs that hug his muscular thighs. Your eyes catch on his backside and you suppress a groan. Now that is a hockey butt. The butt turns and you’re face to face with the sizable bulge in front. Your mouth dries. You knew Bradley was a big guy but now you know it extends to other parts of him. You’re so distracted with staring at the bulge that you don’t realize what being able to see it so clearly implies, especially as it gets closer.

“Can I help you?” Bradley deadpans and you jump in surprise, your eyes snapping away from his lower half to his face that’s no longer separated from you by the door that’s now propped open as he leans against the frame. Your face is an inferno of heat as embarrassment and mortification wash over you at being caught.

“I-I-I… I was just checking out the balcony and I didn’t realize it went this far and I-“

“Looks like you were checking out more than the balcony, Honey.” His voice is low as he practically purrs the pet name and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I didn’t mean to…”

His lip curls into a smirk you’ve never been privy to as he leans in to growl into your ear. “I don’t mind if you watch, Honey, but I’d take a picture if I were you. I wonder how much TMZ would pay for those?” The crude accusation snaps you back to your right mind and you push at his chest firmly, stumbling back until your back hits the balcony railing, face flaming.

“You’re a pig, Bradshaw.”

“And you’re a pervert, I guess that makes us even.” He leans back against the doorframe still smirking. “I’m going to finish changing so you can either come join me in here or you can get back to the living room.” You flip him off, scowling as you limp back towards the living room, his deep laughter chasing after you.

When you’re finally back inside you let your eyes fall closed, the memory of the rolling sound of Bradley’s laugh replaying in your mind. First, you saw him smile yesterday and now today he’s smirked and laughed at you. Your mind is reeling as you unwrap more and more of the “real” Bradley and you find yourself increasingly concerned that you’re in over your head with him. You think back to your conversation with Javy this morning. His accusations about Bradley and yourself. You can’t hide the way your body reacted to the sight of his. Could Javy have been right after all? Were you catching feelings for Bradley? Or were you just horny? You turn Javy’s proposed solution to your problems over and over in your mind, the idea becoming more and more tempting the less you think about it.

“You ready to go, Honey?” Bradley enters the living room clad in a blue Hawaiian shirt that you recognize from the family photo as his father’s over a faded pair of jeans.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You climb off the couch, making your way over to where he’s waiting for you.

***

The driveway to the Casa de Floycia, as the boys refer to it, is a lot more packed this time around. You recognize Jake’s truck on the far left, parked next to Javy’s Landrover that’s once again man-spreading across a space that could easily house both the SUV and Bradley’s Bronco. The two of you scowl at the bang-up parking job until you turn to him. “Wait here.” You unbuckle yourself and storm up the driveway as fast as you can while limping. You pluck your spare key out of the pocket of your coat and let yourself in before you holler down the entryway. “JAVY MACHADO COME AND MOVE YOUR FUCKING CAR OR SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL HAVE IT TOWED!” You don’t wait for a response heading back out, making sure to slam the door behind you. You swing back into the passenger seat of the Bronco and Bradley raises a single eyebrow in question but you don’t respond, crossing your arms across your chest and scowling at the door. A few seconds later, Javy strolls out, twirling his keys as he takes his time to walk to his car, slowly unlocking it, and pausing to waggle his fingers at the two of you in a playful wave. You flip him off and he blows you a kiss. You lean over Bradley to lean on the car horn until Bradley physically pulls you off of it.

He glares down at you. “Behave.” The command has a tingle running down your spine even as you stick your tongue out at him. You crawl back over to your side of the car as Javy reparks his car to make room for the two of you. Bradley pulls into the vacant spot and you launch out as soon as he puts the car into park. Javy’s waiting for the two of you on the porch, a smirk on his face. You stick a finger in his face as you scowl at him.

“How did you pass your driving test?” You spit. He gives a casual shrug.

“With flying colors. Good to see you too, sweetheart.” He slides an arm around your shoulders as Bradley joins the two of you, his eyes falling on Javy’s arm around you. Javy clocks his gaze and pulls you closer to him, tucking you under his arm. “Bradshaw, glad you could make it, man.” He sticks his free hand out to Bradley and he hesitates before taking it and shaking.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this testosterone fest, I want to change so I’m going in.” You duck out from under Javy’s arm, shooting him a flare before you push your way into the house, beelining up the stairs for the guest room as you hear the cheerful ruckus coming from the living room.

You grab a pair of pajama bottoms before ducking into Mickey’s room to steal a t-shirt. Disappearing into the bathroom you come face to face with your reflection. Your mother’s face stares back at you and you turn away, grabbing recklessly at your hair to try and dislodge the pins. The crown falls from your head and you thrust your fingers into the braids, untangling them until your hair is completely down and this time when you look in the mirror you see yourself even if she still lingers in your periphery. You change into Mickey’s Star Trek t-shirt over your pajama pants before heading downstairs, smoothing your hair down as you assess the scene in the living room.

Everyone’s sitting on the floor, crowded around the coffee table. Bugs is in Jake’s lap, and Dragon is half in Bob’s. “Hey, isn’t that my shirt?!” Mickey exclaims and you shrug, unbothered.

“Isn’t that mine?” You arch a skeptical eyebrow as Mickey looks down to examine the faded University of Wisconsin figure skating shirt.

“Fuck, yeah I guess it is.” He gives you a guilty grin. “Charges dropped.” He holds his hands up in surrender and you roll your eyes playfully.

You’re about to make your way to your usual spot between Mickey and Bob when Javy catches the edge of your pajama pants, tugging just enough to upset your balance with your sprained ankle and you tumble into his lap, guided by his arms. “Hey sweetheart, why don’t you be my partner this week?” He waggles his eyebrows at you but Natasha interjects as she walks in from the kitchen with a can of sparkling water before you can roll your eyes in return, squirming to get free of his grasp. You broke eye contact with him to see that Bradley’s hard gaze was fixed on you, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Fuck you, Machado, little backstabber.”

“Don’t take it personally, Nat, I’m an equal opportunity stabber.” He winks at you and now you roll your eyes.

“Absolutely not, Javy. Unlike you, I came here to win.” You clamber out of his grip and go to squeeze into your spot when Dragon pipes up from the other side of Bob.

“Nuh-uh, there’s no way we’re letting you and Mickey team up again, it’s so unfair!” She pouts at the two of you annoyingly as the others chime in with similar complaints. Mickey gives you a placating shrug.

“Zam get over here, I hereby declare this a girl’s team!” You grin and clamber back over to sit between Nat and Bradley.

“Mutiny! Betrayal!” Javy calls out in response from the other side of Nat. Nat sticks her tongue out at Javy.

“You started it, Machado. You’ve made your bed, so lay in it.”

Some might argue that the teams are a mess but that’s normal for game night. Since there’s always too many people for individual teams for Catan, everyone split into pairs, usually the two couples, Nat and Javy because he didn’t take the game seriously enough, and you and Mickey because, while platonic, you’re basically a couple. While you’ll miss the familiar comfort that comes from being paired with Mickey, half of you is glad that the typical duos have been mixed up so Bradley doesn’t feel like the odd man out. Everyone settles into place as Mickey takes it upon himself to teach Bradley the rules and you’re off.

***

You glance worriedly at the hard set of Bradley’s jaw. While he picked up the rules fairly quickly, Bradley was having a rough go of it. Javy had suddenly decided to take the game seriously tonight and for some reason, he and hell-bent on messing with Bradley and it was pissing you off. From blatantly denying Bradley’s trades to cutting him off with roads, you’ve watched Bradley clench his jaw more times in the last hour and a half than throughout the entire hockey game earlier. As Jake and Dragon get into an argument about calculating who had the longest road, you take the opportunity to sneakily bump your fingers against Bradley’s where his hand was resting on the floor next to yours. He turns to look at you, surprised, and you’re not sure where you get the courage but you run your thumb gently along the side of his, doing your best to distract him from the anger that’s plaguing his tense frame. Tonight is about fostering bonds with his teammates, not driving a deeper wedge between them.

It’s the least you can do after he held you earlier today. You’d been a wreck when you’d finally escaped Cyclone’s office to find Bradley leaning against the wall outside, seemingly waiting for you. You hadn’t even hesitated to fall into his arms, seeking solace in his embrace despite never having been there before. Nonetheless, your body had been drawn to him like a moth to a flame and he hadn’t hesitated for a second, simply pulling you close and holding you together as you fell apart. It was like your body knew you could trust him even if your mind was still torn on the matter. He didn’t even say a word as you sobbed, he simply held you, a silent shoulder to cry on. Maybe he didn’t know what to say to you, but more likely he knew that words wouldn’t help, that they weren’t what you needed.

If this is the least you can do to repay that debt, you’re more than willing to oblige. You’re surprised when his thumb curls around yours and you feel your breath catch in your throat at the confidence in his touch. It sweeps across your skin in broad strokes and suddenly you can’t focus on the game anymore and you’re glad that

Natasha doesn’t seem to mind taking the reigns.

***

When the evening wraps up, Bob and Dragon have secured the win, and you stand with a stretch. You’re ready to retire upstairs but you know you need to actually go home tonight since everyone has to be on the tarmac first thing in the morning for an early flight to Denver. The boys play the Avalanche on Monday night so you’ve got a busy couple of days ahead of you. Bradley’s gotten up too, and you glance at him, awkwardly, unsure how to ask him for a ride home when he just walks over, fingers brushing the small of your back, “Ready to go, Honey?” And you’re saved from asking as you nod and follow him to the door. Mickey calls out behind you and he catches you at the door.

“You two heading out?” He asks the two of you and Bradley gives him a curt nod as you give him a big hug.

“Yup, wish I could stay but I need to get home and pack for tomorrow.” Mickey gives you a nod as he turns to Bradley and gives him a rueful smile.

“Thanks for today, I mean it. That was really cool of you.” Bradley squirms under Mickey’s gratitude and you have to fight the urge to giggle at his apparent discomfort.

“Not a problem.” His response is terse and gruff but it’s a start. Mickey turns to return to his other guests and Bradley leads you out to the Bronco. You climb back into the passenger seat, entering your address into Bradley’s navigation.

“Thanks for taking me home.” You murmur as the sound of the 80s station fills up the silence between the two of you.

“Feels fair given that you drove me home the other night.” Bradley points out matter-of-factly. You shrug.

“You drove me home last night.”

“I drove you to Mickey’s, that’s not home.”

“It’s as good as home.” You sigh and look out the window, watching the streetlights pass by. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Billy Joel croons.

“If you said goodbye to me tonight, there would still be music left to write. What else could I do? I'm so inspired by you. That hasn't happened for the longest time.” A soft smile touches your lips at the familiar lyrics. “Once I thought my innocence was gone, now I know that happiness goes on. That's where you found me, when you put your arms around me. I haven't been there for the longest time.” You hum along as you think back yet again to the feel of Bradley’s arms around you earlier. You hear Javy’s voice in your head again, claiming that Bradley had feelings for you. Could he possibly?

“I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall. And the greatest miracle of all is how I need you and how you needed me too. That hasn't happened for the longest time. Maybe this won't last very long, but you feel so right. And I could be wrong, maybe I've been hoping too hard, but I've gone this far and it's more than I hoped for.”

You shake your head to clear it just as a new voice joins Billy Joel’s and you sneak a glance to your left to see Bradley’s lips moving. His voice is low with a gravelly undertone that sends shivers down your spine. “Who knows how much further we'll go on? Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone. I'll take my chances, I forgot how nice romance is. I haven't been there for the longest time.”

You’re unabashedly staring now as Bradley keeps singing, louder now, like he’s forgotten that you’re in the car. It’s the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him and you feel yourself relax at the soothing tone in his voice.

“I had second thoughts at the start. I said to myself, hold on to your heart. Now I know the woman that you are, you're wonderful so far and it's more than I hoped for. I don't care what consequence it brings. I have been a fool for lesser things. I want you so bad, I think you ought to know that I intend to hold you for the longest time.” You know he’s just singing along with the words of the song but you can’t help the way your heart aches at the sweet words passing through his lips. You may not be sure if Javy was right about Bradley but you’re quickly realizing that he may have been right about you. You find yourself longing for Bradley to pull you into his arms again because as much as you hate to admit it, it’s the first place you’ve felt truly safe in years. Like he’s big enough and strong enough to fight off every one of your demons and the monsters that lurk in the dark. It’s different from the way Mickey holds you. When he holds you it feels like he’s standing beside you in battle, two souls becoming one unstoppable force. When Bradley holds you it feels like he’s an impenetrable wall standing between you and the world, keeping you safe and secure.

You take a shaking breath as the full force of your feelings hits you as Bradley pulls up to the driveway of your apartment building. You’re doing your best to hide the trembling threatening to take over you as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You’re about to hop out of the Bronco when Bradley’s hand on your arm stops you. His fingers close over your upper arm, half his fingers splayed over the soft fabric of Mickey’s shirt and half burning into your soft skin. You turn, your hair swishing as you look at him, a timid question in your eyes.

“Honey? You okay?” His voice is concerned as his eyes rake over you and you’re terrified that he’ll see right through your crumbling facade and see the turbulence in your head and heart. You nod, hurriedly, not trusting your words but knowing he’s going to need to hear them.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Goodnight, Bradley, drive safe.” You pull your arm from his grip and all but flee into the building, not daring to look back.

***

The next morning you’re exhausted. Your dreams were plagued with your mother and Cyclone. You’ve decided to change up your wardrobe this morning, trading your pantsuits for a suit dress that looks like a baby blue trench coat with delicate sheer sleeves. You’re wearing flesh-colored tights underneath in preparation for the fall weather in Denver and you arrive at the airport dragging your signature pink suitcase and sporting sunglasses and a purse that matches your dress along with a thick garment bag. The boys look exhausted and half-awake as they crowd the tarmac in their pajamas, hockey gear, and suitcases in tow, garment bags slung over their shoulders. Your phone buzzes in your purse and you groan, your brain not quite awake yet as you struggle to readjust the various things in your arms as you try to reach your phone. Just as you’re about to give up and drop some things, a large hand closes over the handle of your garment bag right above yours, lifting it from your shoulder and you straighten at the loss of weight. You fish your phone out of your purse to see the hotel confirmation for the next two days showing up. You put your phone away, turning to thank the person who helped you only to come face to face with Bradley. He’s wearing one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts and jeans, a far cry from the rest of the guys except maybe Reuben, who’s also wearing jeans but paired with a dad sweater. At least he’s dressed for the weather.

“You know we’re going to Denver, not Dallas, right?” You ask in a way of greeting. He grunts, rolling his eyes.

“Good morning to you too, Honey.” He replies and you go to take the garment bag back but he steps away from your reach, shaking his head. “How many outfits did you pack, Honey? You know we’re only on the road for a week, don’t you?” You scowl up at him, crossing your arms even as you ignore the way your heart jumps at the nickname.

“Not all of us can get away with dressing like we’re on vacation. By the way? Jimmy Buffett called, he wants his wardrobe back.” Bradley scowls back at you as his gaze scans your face before his eyebrows draw together.

“Did you sleep last night?” You curse your concealer for clearly not doing its job this morning as you shake your head. No use in denying it.

“Not really, kept having dreams.” You don’t specify that they were bad but you know he can tell. Bradley just nods and you’re surprised to see Cyclone approach the group. You’re even more surprised when he comes straight over to you and you tense, raising your guard. Bradley shifts almost imperceptibly to place you slightly behind him.

“Zam, Bradley, glad you’re already here. I wanted to talk to the two of you. Given everything that’s been going on, I want the two of you to stay together.” You feel your stomach drop in anticipation of what Cyclone’s about to say. “I’ve asked Dare and Mav to rearrange the hotel rooms so you’ll be staying together. Bradley, if you go out anywhere that isn’t practice, Zam’s going with you. We cannot afford any more negative media coverage. This is the best solution that I can come up with right now, so that’s what it’s going to be.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Maybe you should have added an extra shot of espresso to your coffee this morning because you’re livid. You're a PR rep, not a babysitter. “You realize I have a job aside from babysitting your players? Maybe you should come and do it yourself. I have press conferences and interviews to set up.” Your hands are on your hips and you’re glaring daggers at Cyclone.

“Katarina, I don’t have time for this.” The use of your mom’s name knocks the wind from your lungs, and Cyclone’s eyes widen as he realizes his mistake even as Bradley growls, low in his throat, a warning. You scoff, letting out an exhausted and exasperated laugh.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once. I may look like my mother, but I am not her. And that means you don’t get to walk all over me because I’m not going to let you.” Cyclone pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Zam, I’m not asking for your opinion, my decision is final. I asked you to fix Bradshaw’s behavior and I’ve yet to see any change so I’ve been forced to take more drastic measures. Have a safe trip.” Before you can fire back, he turns on his heel and stalks back to wherever he came from.

“Is he always that rude to you?” Bradley’s voice is hard as he stares after Cyclone and you snort.

“That’s probably the nicest he’s been to me, actually, at least recently.” Bradley turns back to you in barely concealed shock as the doors to the plane open and the players start lining up to board. The two of you board the plane in silence and he takes a seat next to you which you don’t have the energy to protest.

Once you’re seated comfortably he speaks again. “I’m sorry, Honey. I know I’m probably not the only reason he’s been rude to you, but I’m sorry for whatever trouble I’ve caused.” You sigh deeply, fighting a yawn as you slump into your seat.

“It’s not your fault he’s an asshole, Bradley.” You say after a moment. “Just try to stay out of trouble, okay?” You add the last part quietly and Bradley nods silently before reaching over to gently guide your head against his shoulder. You open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off.

“Just sleep, Honey. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” You let your lids fall shut, lashes brushing your cheek as the sleep that eluded you all night comes to pull you under.

A/N: LOTS of feelings from both parties in this chapter 👀 The song that was featured was “The Longest Time” by Billy Joel

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #no use of y/n

[itsphoenix0724]

Meet Me On The Ice (Azriel x Reader)~ Chapter 1

Summary: You and Lucien Vanserra have been skating together since you were children, but when he has an accident that takes him out right before championships you turn to your brother and his hockey team to fill the position. His best friend Azriel has lethal grace on the ice and owes your brother a favor, which seems like a match made in heaven, except you can’t stand each other. Can you and Azriel pull a routine together in time for your competition, or will it all spiral out of control?

MMOTI masterlist

Warnings: mentions of injury, blood

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Hello everyone! Happy December, my final exams are over so I'm so excited to get back into writing! As you all know I've been planning this for a while, so I hope you're all as excited as I am!!

DISCLAIMER: I am not a figure skater or a hockey player, so while I'm trying to be as accurate as possible, it's likely some things may not be correct and/or are bent a little to fit the plot!

Figure skating is a lot more thrilling than people give it credit for. Only a few people are willing to be thrown 5 feet in the air at 20 miles an hour and completely trust the other person to catch them. 

The ice was always your happy place. The biting chill against your skin, the feel of gliding across the rink faster than light. It was thrilling, to say the least. You and Lucien had worked so hard this season to advance this far, and you only had a couple of competitions left before the both of you graduated from university. The two of you were on a winning streak, and this competition looked like it would turn out no different. Your coach smiled from the sidelines as the two of you performed in perfect sync, his hands around your waist as he lifted you effortlessly into the air before resting you safely back on your skates. It was time for the big finish, you sped in a circle around the rink executing a triple toe and Lucien built up his momentum to launch his axel. Your eyes dart to the judges' impressed faces before you whip your head back to him and- 

Something’s wrong. 

The angel– the spin, is all out of balance, and in the blink of an eye, Lucien hits the ice. His head makes a sickening crack on the ground as red floods around him, and his right leg is twisted in the wrong way. The scream you let out doesn’t even sound like yours as you race over to him, the sounds of the crowd echoing around you in a sick symphony. 

“Oh my god” 

“Someone call an ambulance!” 

“Get him off the ice quick!” 

You don’t hear any of them too busy trying to shake Lucien awake with tears streaming down your cheeks, but he’s knocked out cold. A blur of red is next to you and it takes you a moment before you realize it’s Lucien’s mother. It’s another gut-wrenching eternity of trying your best to hold a towel against his head to stop the bleeding, Lucien still unresponsive, before the gentle hands of a paramedic ease you away from your best friend. You watch with abject horror as they load him onto a stretcher, and carry him out of the rink. Helping Lucien’s mother off of the ice, she follows them outside. The ringing in your ears still hasn’t stopped, not even when your own mother and father come racing down the arena steps, a hand coming out to hold your jaw, and another wrapping your coat around your shoulders. Before you blink again they’re ushering you out of the rink and into the car. 

It’s two days before you can see Lucien in the hospital. 

You had driven in complete silence, anxiety coiled like a viper in the pit of your stomach. Parking your car in the visitor lot you look at the teddy bear you buckled safely into your passenger seat, its soft brown hands clutching a heart with cursive writing spelling Get Well Soon.  It had been dumb and cheesy, but you snagged it at the grocery store while picking up some of Lucien’s favorite snacks and couldn’t resist. 

Hopefully, it would make him laugh at least.

The nurse at the desk smiles at you kindly before pointing you in the right direction of his room. The atmosphere of the hospital weighs painfully on your shoulders as the elevator ride seems to stretch on for decades. You thankfully find Lucien’s room easily enough, his russet eyes light up at the sight of you even with the angry red stitches that run through his hair. 

“There she is!” He bellows, eyeing the bear and the bag of treats with interest. You set them on his bed and he laughs a joyous sound as he props the bear next to him on the bed, declaring it his new best friend. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask tentatively, settling into a chair next to his bed. His leg is in a cast, elevated, and you run your bottom lip between your teeth with worry. 

“I’m alright, all things considered.” He promises rifling through the bag to dig out the pack of spicy chips, “I’ve got a concussion, and my legs broken so bad I’ll be in physical therapy for months.” Lucien meets your eyes mournfully, looking as if you’d just punched him in the face. “I won’t be able to skate for the rest of the season. I’m so sorry.” He dips his eyes averting his gaze to the broken leg, like glaring at it hard enough will force it back together again. You feel your heart sink to your feet, but you refuse to let it show, trying to keep a happy smile on your face. 

“None of that matters, all I care about is that you’re okay.” You reach out to grip his hand, and his warm palms engulf your own.

“You can find another partner to finish the season,” He urges,  Lucien’s other hand comes up to cup your cheek, wiping away the silver trying to fight its way out of your eyes despite your best efforts. You had already registered in the partner skate division, so it was too late to switch now. But even thought makes your stomach turn.

“No one could ever replace you,” You promise, leaning into his warmth. It’s the truth. You had been skating with Lucien since you were small, and now you’re about to graduate from university. There could be no one else. No one else that, without fail, had such a warm touch even on the ice rink. No one else you could trust to catch you every time, even if it means sacrificing his safety. 

You had tried to skate with one other partner, once, in freshman year when Lucien caught the flu so bad he was puking for weeks. It hadn’t ended well and you hadn’t trusted anyone since. 

“You should skate your last season. Even if this new guy will never be as good as me.” It’s a lighthearted attempt at a joke, and you accept the crutch of humor, chest rising with a breath of laughter. “You could ask Rhys, maybe he’d do it? He used to skate before he switched to hockey right?” That was true, but he switched to hockey right before middle school to play with his friends, maybe he’d consider it if it didn’t conflict too much with his schedule. 

“I’ll think about it, let's focus on tearing through these snacks in the meantime,” You snag the peanut butter cups out of his bag despite Lucien’s vehement protests and turn the staticky hospital tv to shitty afternoon cartoons. 

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You held your tears in successfully until you got home. You didn’t want Luicen to feel guilty, didn’t want him to see you cry, so here you were curled in a ball under your covers. Hiding from your problems like a child, hoping if you just ignored them long enough they would magically solve themselves. You had asked Rhys earlier about possibly skating with you, but between learning to take over your father’s business, university, and hockey he understandably regretfully declined. The bedroom door creaks open, hearing the delicate tread of Rhys’s footsteps before he settles next to you on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand along your curved form. 

“It’ll be alright I promise,” Rhys mutters. “I think I might have a solution, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” You rise from your chosen shelter, raising a brow and wiping at your tear-stained cheek. 

“What is it?” You question, and Rhys almost flinches. “I’ll do almost anything to skate again.” He must see the desperation and he carries on anyway. 

“Azriel is still suspended from the team at the moment, and he owes me a favor…” Rhys watches your eyes catch up to his words, the disgust flashing in them. Both of Rhys’s best friends had couched surfed at your house at one time or another, and you and Azriel had never gotten along. Not like sunshiney Cassian, who may be viscous on the ice but was one of the most gentle people you knew. Cas was the one who made an effort to include you in activities, who playfully tossed you in the pool in the summer, and took you for long drives when you were upset. Azriel spent those summers by the pool brooding in the shade until you left, and was currently suspended from the Velaris University hockey team for throwing another player so hard into the glass he was concussed. “You said you would do almost anything to skate again,” Rhys raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes. 

“What about Cassian?” you offer. He would probably do it for you, but Cas wasn’t suited for figure skating. His style was too brutish, it was nothing against him, he just wouldn’t pick up the flow and patience you needed to skate with the music fast enough in time for the competition. As much as you hated to admit it, Azriel moved across the ice like smoke, flowing and ebbing with a lethal grace you couldn’t help but admire. 

“Cas is too busy with school and hockey,” Rhys had clearly already run through the option. You knew that if you begged Cassian he probably would, but his stance at the school depended entirely on his grades and his performance in hockey. You wouldn’t give him any chance to mess up his scholarship.  “Please just talk to Az with me tomorrow.” 

“Fine.” You relent, perhaps with a little more attitude than necessary. So you correct yourself, Rhys is going out of his way to help you. “Thank you.” He gives you a small smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving your room. 

So that was how you found yourself bundled up at the rink, at six in the fucking morning, with Rhy watching Azriel practice. He moved like a panther, prowling around the ice and slapping the puck with such ferocity the crack makes you flinch. He tears off his helmet, skating over with a mop of sweat-soaked hair. Az’s hazel eyes flick over you once in distaste before dismissing you completely and turning his attention to Rhys, which makes your temper rise to a heated spark of fury. Your brother clears his throat, nudging you on the back to speak. Azriel turns back to you and raises a cold dark brow.  

“Would you please consider being my skating partner for my last few competitions this season? Please” you choke out, trying your best to send him a pleasant smile. Then, Azriel actually has the balls to laugh at you. 

“Yeah, I heard about what happened to Vanserra. What makes you think I would ever want to do that?” Azriel chuckles out, voice dripping with sarcasm. You’re about to agree, call this whole mess off, and return to the comfort of your bed when Rhys cuts in. 

“Because you owe me,” The two of them have some silent stare-down that you wish you could be privy to. Whatever Rhys had done for Azriel in the past it must have been big because after a moment Azriel fixes those molten eyes on you again. 

“Fine, I’ll do it. Be here tomorrow at five so we can try to figure out this shitshow.” He tucks his helmet back over his head and prowls back around to the ice. You guess you’ll be meeting him here tomorrow night and you find yourself agreeing with the sentiment that this will be a shit show indeed.   

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #acotar au #Meet Me On The Ice

[claireelle18]

Lucky Charm

Prompt: When no one knows that they’re secretly married, but after scoring in the Stanley Cup playoffs he sees her in the stands wearing his jersey and holding the kid no one knows he has…and he’s almost knocked on his ass because he can’t take his eyes off her, and the moment is featured on national TV.

The day had been a long one of keeping up with the rambunctious toddler. Of course she wouldn’t exchange it for the world. Between the two parents, she agreed to be the stay at home mom while he provided for them.

It was a last minute decision to be down there at the arena, let alone up against the glass. She wasn’t sure how her girlfriend managed to get the tickets, pretty sure she had them, but the other guests bailed on her. 

“Linds, I can’t come! I’ve got no one to watch Salem tonight.” 

“Sage, just bring her! I have enough tickets for all of us. She can sit between us. Besides I bet she would love to see her Daddy play!” Salem had just recently turned two-and-a-half, and had only seen her Daddy play on tv and during the open practices.

“Sails you wanna go watch Daddy play?” She giggled and clapped. 

“Daddy?” The toddler questioned her mama.

“Yeah, baby. Daddy is at work. Want to go see him?” She nodded, and clapped more. “Okay, fine Linds we will see you there! Text me the tickets!” 

“Yay! I promise you’ll have fun!” 

With the heavy amount of traffic, both automobiles and pedestrians, it took a little longer to get past security than originally planned. Which meant warm ups were just wrapping up when the pair met up with the friend. “Hi ya Salem!” Salem laughed and waved hi back to her Aunt Linds. “You just missed him, but he will be back out soon.” 

The two women chatted as Salem watched the lights and people all around her. He wasn’t a starting player for the game, so she observed him on the bench. He was so sucked into the game, not knowing she was there, so close. 

First intermission came in a flash. He had a few shifts during that first period, and she could see how as the game progressed he became more comfortable. Before anyone knew it, second period was under way. Now they would be scoring on the goal the three sat behind. Sage cradled Salem on her hip as she wasn’t tall enough to see over the boards the action of the game. 

Her wedding ring glittering off the arena’s obnoxiously bright lights, casting tiny rainbows across the floor, as she held onto her daughter. Her daughter’s wide cerulean blue eyes captivated by the speed of the men whizzing around the large frozen sheet.  “Daddy! Daddy!” The young girl cheered as she caught her first glimpse of him, her long dark curls bouncing as she squirmed around.

He was back across the ice, then back in front of her again. His next shift he lead the puck, finding the back of the net past the Avalanche’s Georgiev. As he comes around the back of the net in a celly, he sees both, and cannot take his eyes off of them. 

His teammates flock around him, and he almost gets his ass slammed down to the ice because he gets run into. His only savior being Yanni Gourde and Adam Larson catching him. Even then he cannot seem to break the little trace he’s in. “If you’re watching this round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, you may have just witnessed Vince Dunn almost get taken out by teammates because something outside the rink, in the crowd is distracting him,” an announcer calls. 

No doubt that would be the hockey meme of the night, and for the weeks to follow. The Kraken social team was quick to use the gif made from it to post about taking the lead. 

@seattlekraken: “us when we realize we have the lead currently” 

Salem squeals again in excitement as she sees him smiling at her. She can hear the clicks of cameras sounding off around her as he smiles at them. Sage’s jersey proudly representing her last name of Dunn, and Salem’s with Daddy across the back and Vince’s number. He blows Salem a kiss and a sticking tongue out face, causing the previous reaction to repeat, before skating off. 

After winning the game, which gave the Kraken the lead in the series, the biggest question was asked during the interview, “what was that almost landing on your ass about?”

“Well, I-uh…I honestly didn’t expect to see my wife and our daughter standing there right behind the glass,” he smiled. “It definitely caught me off guard, in a good - I mean great way.” 

“So that was your daughter?” A report repeated. 

“Yes, my wife and daughter were here tonight. Now if you don’t mind, I would love to go see them, so please one final question.” He bounded off, in search of his favorite people. Adam had her outside the locker room, chatting and occasionally bouncing Sails up and down. 

“Daaadddyyy!” She screamed when she spotted him, taking off from everyone else. 

“Hey my little pumpkin!” He grabbed her kissing her cheek. “I see you came to Daddy’s work!” She nodded vigorously. 

“Come on you three, take a family picture!” Linds cheered, pushing Sage into her family. A few photos snapped of the little family.  “Glad you were able to not cause too much chaos tonight,” Sage teased Vince. “Even if you’re still leading in PIMs this season.” He jokingly goes to nip the tip of her nose in retaliation and Salem pushes his face. “Bad daddy. No bites!”

*New Instagram Post - posted photo series of Sage and Vince with Salem’s face not shown, back of her jersey is though* 

@vincedunn: “you could say I had my lucky charms in the building tonight”

Comment reply: @sagedunn: “yeah we know you mean @adamlarson 🙄” 

Reply: @vincedunn : “if I meant him then why are you sporting my last name on that jersey then? 😜😘” 

Reply: @sagedunn: “that’s because he’s forced to work with you” 

#vince dunn #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #imagine #nhl hockey #seattle kraken #kraken hockey #vincedunnxogcharacter

[literaryavenger]

I just saw a skating show and one of the guys looked like bucky and now I NEED a yn × figure skating partner bucky one shot. With them working on a throw and he's all mad she can't land it then gets hurt and all the angst and comforting. Omg please I'll cry I love you! ❤️

Ok, I have to admit this was my first ask and I got so excited that this got a little away from me. I'd like to say I'm sorry for not putting much technical stuff about figure skating in it but I know really nothing, I did my best researching stuff but it's still not much. I hope you're happy how it turned out, if not let me know! I really just took it and ran with it, I really hope you like it. 🥹❤️

also, sorry it took me a little but my keyboard broke and I had to wait for the new one because writing on the phone I would've made too many mistakes.

On Thin Ice - Bucky Barnes x y/n Stark

Summary: you're paired with Bucky Barnes for an important competition but your negative feelings towards each other make everything much more difficult. Figure Skating AU.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Stark reader

Warnings: Bucky being an ass. Reader gets hurt. Angst. Language cause why not. Minimal use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 6.6K

A/N: I didn't proof read it honestly, I was just excited to publish it. I'm going to double check it sometime tomorrow and edit it later! ❤️

Masterlist

Being a Stark isn't always easy.

Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like you’re superheroes or anything, but being the daughter of Tony Stark meant that you always had to be not only on your best behavior but you had to be the best in general, no matter what you were doing.

It’s always been a lot of pressure growing up, but it's something you're used to at this point.

All your life there just wasn’t room for failure.

When you were little you hated it, sometimes even hated your dad for it, but you had to give it to him that it made you detail oriented and more driven and focused than most, so with time you came to be grateful for it.

His continuous badgering you into taking various lessons as a kid is also what led you to discover your passion: figure skating.

Skating was something that just somehow came naturally to you, and the more time you spent at the ice rink the more you fell in love with it.

You loved just spending hours going and going, to the point where the world blurred around you and you almost felt like you were flying.

After seeing how happy it made you, your father eased up a bit on you, but he still expected perfection, which you always worked hard to provide.

All you’ve always wanted was to make him proud of you. Which he was and never failed to mention, but you were still terrified of disappointing him.

All the pressure your last name came with was nothing compared to the pressure you put on yourself, you were always your hardest critic.

That is, at least, until you met Bucky Barnes.

You don't know why, maybe he just hates you and likes to humiliate you, but it seems like he always has something to say about your performances.

It all started the very first day you met, you were 18 at the ice rink your father decided to buy for you on your birthday the week before.

You were shocked to say the least when he told you, but he had always been better at showing his love rather than saying it, and don’t ever let it be said that Tony Stark didn’t love his daughter to death.

It was the same place where you skated for the first time when you were merely 5 years old, which you then changed for one closer to your home, but this one held so much more sentiment for you that the extra travel time was worth it, and it was also much bigger, the place where a lot of the important competitions happened. 

The Saturday after your birthday you finally had some free time having just finished exams week and finally being done with high school once and for all, so you planned to meet up with Natasha at the newly named ‘Stark’s snowland’.

Natasha was also a figure skater and you two have known each other since you were 8 years old, participating in almost a lot your competitions together, which usually ended with the two of you in first and second place.

Then Natasha started doing more and more couples competitions with various partners, but you were still always there to cheer for each other.

When she texted she was running late, you decided to just wait for her on the ice so you went inside, put on your skates and just got lost in your head, glad that the early hour meant nobody was around yet.

Then, after having done a few easy moves and having just finished an Axel, you heard some clapping coming from the entrance of the rink.

You stopped abruptly and looked for the source of the noise when you spotted a brunette cheering on you like he was at the Olympics standing beside a blonde that looked kind of embarrassed by his friends' antics.

"Didn’t realize I had an audience." you said, while moving towards them.

"Well, you should with the way you move out there." the brunette said, shamelessly checking you out shortly before receiving a smack behind his head, courtesy of blondie.

"Sorry about him. My name’s Steve," the blonde said while you tried hard not to laugh at the look his friend was giving him. "and this jerk here is Bucky." He pointed at his friend, who seemed to suddenly remember you were there because he turned to you with a charming smile while you introduced yourself.

"Is this your first time skating here?" Bucky asked "I’m sure I would remember a pretty face like yours." he then added, making you blush.

"I usually only come here for competitions, but-" before you could finish talking you heard the door behind them open and Natasha screaming "Stark!" making the boys turn around to look at her.

"Romanoff!" you greeted her, laughing.

Bucky turned back to you, face suddenly all serious, which confused you a lot since he was all flirty smiles until two seconds before. He mumbled something about having to go and almost ran away as fast as he could.

You looked at Steve who seemed as confused as you felt, gave you an apologetic smile and went after his friend. 

You didn’t have much more time to ponder on the sudden turn of events because Natasha was in her skates on record time and raring to go.

All you know is, for the rest of the day you felt Bucky’s eyes on you but every time you turned to him he had a stoic look on his face, and every word out of his mouth towards you was criticism on whatever you were doing.

And here we are now, 6 years later and nothing has changed.

Now 24 and having graduated college, you can be found at Stark’s almost everyday while you figure out the next phase of your life.

It’s honestly not bad, your dad wanted you to intern for him at Stark Industries during college so, after you graduated, you could start working for him full time, but that’s not what you wanted.

If you’re honest with yourself you do want to take over your father’s empire one day, just not yet.

You wanted to keep doing skating competitions, therefore all the free time that you had during college was spent skating. And so, as a compromise, your dad had you teach a few kid classes during the week when one of the teachers unexpectedly quit one day, and you happily agreed.

You did this for all the duration of college, after graduating you kept doing it and, to your father’s delight, took on even more classes to keep yourself a bit more occupied.

It was at the end of one of these classes that you were suddenly approached by Barnes today, which was very rare.

Usually both of you did your best to avoid each other, even when you started being there everyday, you wouldn’t give each other even a second glance, as far as you were concerned.

You’ve liked him when you first met him, but after months of him being nothing but an ass to you, you decided to stop trying and largely ignore him unless you were in a larger group that consisted of you, him, Steve, Natasha, Sam, another friend of theirs that you quickly became friends with, and Scott, a friend you made your first week of college.

Needless to say, you were baffled to see Bucky walk up to you and not immediately insult your behavior during the lesson that just ended, like he usually does when he gifts you with his presence. Instead he said "Hey Stark, can we talk?"

"Uhm… sure. What’s up, Barnes?" you say while starting to put down the cones you'll need for your next class.

"You know the couples competition that we’re having here in a few months?" he asks, following behind you. You think he looks nervous, which you find weird as Bucky Barnes is as confident as they come.

"Yeah, what about it?" You stop what you’re doing and turn around towards him, too curious to not give him all your attention.

"Well, I wanted to sign up, but it seems like I’m missing a partner.,," he says while rubbing his neck, almost embarrassed by what he’s asking.

"Don’t you usually team up with Nat?" you ask him.

"I do, but she’s gonna be out of town that day, and all the other girls are either paired up or not interested…" he explains, still not going to the point.

"Where are you going with this, Barnes?" You ask, crossing your arms in irritation at the time he was wasting while you still have things to do before your next class.

"Are you really going to make me ask?" he almost whines and, when you merely raise your eyebrow, a clearly amused face at his almost desperation, he finally gets to the point of his interruption. "Fine. Will you be my partner?"

Although you suspected where he was going, it's still a little shocking to hear him ask. Before you answer him though, you feel the need to tell him "You know I’ve never done pairs before, right? Not even outside of competitions."

"I know, but I also know you’re a fast learner." at your confused look, he elaborates "You’ve been training here for what, six years now? I’ve seen you learn pretty advanced moves in a crazy short amount of time for last minute competitions or even just for fun. And, whether I like it or not, you’re one of the best figure skaters I’ve ever met." he finishes.

That last sentence has you scoffing at him and starting to get annoyed at him "You don’t need to lie to me just to get me to agree just because you’re desperate for a partner."

"Why would you think I’m lying?" he says while having the audacity to look confused at your anger.

"You do nothing but criticize me all the time! The real question is, why would I ever think otherwise?"

"Just because I criticize you, doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re good!" he says it like was the most obvious thing in the world. "Please Y/N, I really need a partner, and, right now, you’re my only choice. Please." he adds at the end, just for good measure.

To be fair, Bucky had never been this polite or patient with you, and has never even called you by your first name, so it was clear that this was important to him, which is probably what led you to say yes.

He seemed happy for all of two seconds before going back to being the usual jerk, which made you instantly start to regret your decision, but you figured old habits die hard, you just had to be a little patient and he would get easier to work with the more he got used to this. 

Boy, were you wrong. 

For the next three months you met with Bucky three times a week, working out your routine and training sometimes even for hours.

It wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before, but what really annoyed you to no end was finding out that Bucky’s favorite brand of training seemed to be complaining.

All he did was criticize every move you made, right or wrong, even the couples ones you were still learning.

You also found out that being so close to him for such long periods of time made you clumsier than ever, which did not at all help the situation.

All it took was for you to be near him enough to be surrounded by his cologne and suddenly you were falling more than usual, missing your cues and straight up forgetting the next steps of the routine, which only gave Bucky more fuel to add to the fire.

It also didn’t help that whenever Bucky asked you why you were so distracted you lost all your natural Stark sarcasm and could barely get out a sound, not knowing how to tell him even if you wanted to, which you definitely didn’t, that he was the problem.

But you somehow made it through it and, with a week to go before the competition, you had it down to a T.

Or almost.

"Damn it." you say, frustrated with yourself, after you almost fall again on the landing of the throw jump.

The problem with throw jumps is that Bucky has to pick you up and quite literally throw you in the air and, while he does that quite easily, being so close to him right before he throws you disorients you just enough to miss twists and fumble the landing.

A thing that you’d never tell Bucky, which at the moment is giving the most annoyed look you’ve ever seen on his stupidly pretty face.

"Seriously, Stark?!" He almost yells while skating closer to you. "Why the hell is this taking you so long to get right? You’ve done harder things than this both by yourself and with me, so what the hell is wrong with you?"

Like always, you don’t quite know how to respond to him, not even wanting to acknowledge the cause of your concentration problem.

"Let’s just try this again." You say, quieter than you normally would, and get in position.

Your back is turned to him but you can hear him sigh before you feel him move and position himself next to you. You nod at Scott who’s controlling the music, and he starts again.

Everything is going great, until, again you fumble the landing, but this time you fall on your knees. You can hear Scott shouting your name, so you hold a thumbs up to let him know you’re okay.

You can see Bucky getting closer to you with your peripheral vision, but don’t look up or even try to make a move to get up.

You can feel the tears starting to form in your eyes, not because it hurts, but because you’re so frustrated with yourself for not being able to do this.

You’re trying your hardest not to cry out of anger when you see Bucky’s hand in front of your face, a silent offer of help. The last thing you want to do right now is look at his stupid face, so you slap his hand away and get up on your own, ignoring Bucky almost altogether and putting yourself in position to start again from the top.

Bucky comes behind you, but this time you can feel him looking at you while he says, "We don’t have to go again. We can stop here for today." his voice much quieter than it's ever been before, which only fuels your anger more.

"The competition’s next week Barnes, unless you want us to make fools of ourselves, we need to do this until I get it right." You snapped, letting him see you angry for the first time since you started training.

He was a little shocked but didn’t say anything else while he got in position, signaling to Scott to start the music.

All you can think about at this point is the disappointment on your dad’s face if you don’t win the competition, or worse fall like you just did.

You’re not even focused on Bucky anymore, in fact you’re so distracted that you don’t even make it to the throw jump before you fall, except this time you can feel that something’s wrong as soon as you hit the ice.

You can feel pain shoot from your ankle through your whole body and get immediately dizzy, you could barely make out the lights on the ceiling, your eyes going in and out of focus.

You can hear yelling and, once you concentrated, you can make out Bucky's voice saying words like ‘stupid’ and ‘incompetent’, which made you wish you had just passed out so you wouldn’t have to hear him insult you.

Your mind seemed to clear a little and you realized your tears finally started falling at some point, but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that before you were being helped to your feet, Scott telling you he was taking you to the hospital and everything was going to be okay.

You realized Bucky was no longer next to you before you even realized you didn’t have skates on anymore and were barefoot, but you just assumed he was too mad at you to care about your ankle.

-

You’re sitting in a hospital bed with a stomp on your left foot when your dad walks in, worry all over his face.

"Hey junior, are you okay?" you roll your eyes at his nickname, surely you don’t expect Tony Stark to be any less sarcastic seeing you well enough, but you’ve begged him to drop the stupid nickname which he refuses to because ‘but you’re just like me, it's a compliment!’

"I’m okay dad, just have to wear this for a few days." you say, pointing to your foot on a pillow.

"Good. Wanna tell me what happened?" he asks, taking a seat beside your bed.

"Just landed wrong while practicing the routine with Barnes. Too distracted, kept fucking up landings." you tell him, not daring to look in his eyes.

"Pushing yourself too hard?"

He surprises you with this question, but you promptly answer it. "If I was, I would’ve been able to land all my moves correctly. If anything I’m not pushing myself hard enough."

You can’t look at his face just to see the disappointment at your failure, but when you feel his hand on yours you force yourself to look into his eyes, and, to your surprise, there's no hint of disappointment.

"You know, sweetheart, I do mean it when I say you’re just like me. And there is nothing more heartbreaking to me than looking at you and seeing the same self-destructive tendencies I have reflected on you." he wipes a tear you hadn’t realized was falling from your cheek and keeps going. "I hate that I passed that on to you. I should’ve been more careful with you. I thought that letting you know I was proud was enough, unlike my dad, but maybe I should’ve been more specific."

"What do you mean?" you ask, sniffling a bit.

"I’m not proud of you because you always come first in competitions, or because you get the highest grades. I’m proud of you because I know you always try your best and put all of yourself into everything you do. That’s what being a Stark is all about. Plus you’re my daughter so let’s be honest, I’d love you to death even if you were a high school dropout who deals fake drugs to college kids."

You laughed while drying your tears, grateful for your father’s inability to stay serious for too long.

You hug him and say "Thanks, dad. I needed that more than I thought."

You let go of him and tell him about the real reason you couldn’t concentrate: the long-haired asshole with eyes so blue you felt like you were flying in the sky while looking at them, and like you were drowning the second he opened his mouth to say shit about you.

Of course you didn’t put it on those exact terms, but your dad was pretty good at reading between the lines.

By the end he had a smirk that made you want to legally change your name and run away because you just know he’s never going to let you live this down.

"Well, sounds like he’s really something." that’s all he says, weirdly. You eye him suspiciously but he doesn’t add to his sentence.

In fact, he doesn’t say anything more about it until he’s helped you get comfortable on your bed back home.

"You know…" he starts "little boys pull little girls’ pigtails on the playground to get their attention, because they don’t know what else to do." he says.

"Yeah, boys are stupid, so what?" you deadpan and he laughs then surprisingly says "Exactly. Maybe you’re not the only one that feels something here. Maybe there’s a stupid boy that can’t take his eyes off of you, but doesn’t know how to get your attention other than criticize you." he says, clearly happy with where he ended.

"Is this your long way of saying that you think Bucky likes me the same way I like him?" You raise an eyebrow at him.

"This is my long way of saying don’t be a stubborn Stark and try actually talking to him about this. You’d be surprised how fast stupid boys grow up just to keep the girl they want. Just ask your mother." and with that he leaves with a wink, leaving you wondering how much more immature Tony Stark could’ve been to have to grow up enough to sweep Pepper Potts off her feet.

You spend the next few days as a little ball of anxiety on your bed, not being able to do much but overthink about Bucky, only getting a break when Scott came to keep you company.

The day before the competition you've enough and convince Scott to drive you to the ice rink, knowing Bucky was probably there.

When you get there you can hear music but you don’t think much of it until you get right in front of the door and realize it was the song you and Bucky chose. Frowning, you open the door and what you see makes your jaw drop.

There they are, Bucky and Natasha, doing your routine.

You don’t know when you got closer to the rink, but you cannot take your eyes off of them, that is until you hear someone beside you say "they’re good, aren’t they?"

You turn your head to see Sam and Steve, the latter looking at you in a knowing way that almost seems apologetic of Sam’s words, the effect of which Sam doesn’t seem to notice.

You always felt like Steve could see right through you when it came to Bucky, always looking at you like he knew exactly how you felt and how much his words hurt you.

Seemingly reading all the questions swimming in your mind right now, Steve offers you some answers.

"Natasha came back early from her vacation. He brought her up to speed and she agreed to help him out. They’ve been practicing non-stop everyday since the day after you got hurt." Feeling like you have enough information, you turn back to the ice. 

You watch them work in sync, almost like they're connected by wires and one can’t move without taking the other with them.

You watch as Bucky picks up Nat effortlessly and throws her like she's made of air. You watch as she moves so gracefully that it's almost surreal. You see her land every jump perfectly.

Again. And again. And again.

Every jump, every twist, every second you watch them something inside you brokes more.

You don’t know why, Natasha has been Bucky’s partner countless times before and it never mattered to you, and you’ve only skated with him for less than four months.

Maybe it was the fact that they're using the routing you and Bucky had come up with together, maybe you feel replaced.

Maybe it was the fact that you were coming here to talk to Bucky about your feelings and now you were seeing him flying around the ice rink as close with another girl as he was with you, maybe even closer.

They finish the routine and you can hear Bucky’s laughter, you can see his smile as he tells Natasha how perfect she was, how impressed he is at how fast she picked up everything, how glad he is that she showed up when she did.

Then it hits you.

Of course he’s glad she showed up. He never wanted to do this with you, you weren’t even a second choice, it took literally every other girl he knows to be unavailable for him to even think to ask you.

Why wouldn’t he be happy to have her back? He certainly never acted like this with you. He never laughed, barely even smiled...

He didn’t choose you, he got stuck with you.

Suddenly, it’s like everything he’s ever done, everything he’s ever said to you comes crashing down on you all at once.

It’s like you can actually hear your heart breaking and there’s only one thought on your mind: He likes Natasha.

It makes sense, the first day you met he seemed into you, right up until he saw her and the second he turned around he was done with you.

Maybe he started to be an ass just to make that clear, not wanting to actually say anything. After all, he always was very nice to Nat. To everyone but you really.

And it’s not like you could blame him, Natasha’s always been better than you. Growing up she was always your only competition, it’s a fortune you ended up friends really, considering how easy it could’ve been for you to hate each other.

She’s the reason you spent so much time trying to be better, and you’d like to say it was the same for her, but you doubt it very much.

She’s always been prettier, thinner, stronger, smarter, better with boys and at making friends. She was the obvious choice.

Of course she was Bucky’s choice.

You didn’t realize you were so deep in your thoughts, or that you were still staring at them, until you feel a hand on your shoulder and hear Sam’s worried voice asking if you were okay.

You look at Steve and Sam and all you want to do is get out of here. It was already a miracle you weren’t already crying.

Without saying a word you turn around and walk away as fast as you can with the damn stump on your foot. You aren’t fast enough though, because halfway to the door you hear Bucky’s voice, much too close to you to your liking, calling your name.

For a second you think you hear something seeming happiness in his voice, but quickly dismiss the idea and try to keep going, but then you feel his hand on your wrist turning you around to face him.

His face seems to instantly fall as he looks at you and all you can think about is how sick you are of being the only one that takes his smile away.

"What’s wrong?" he asks in a weirdly soft tone, but you can’t find the voice to answer him.

You two just stare at each other until you hear someone clear their throat behind Bucky, and you look over his shoulder just as Natasha starts talking.

"Hi, Stark. Heard what happened to you." she nods towards your foot "Sorry I haven’t been to visit you, we’ve been pretty busy."

You don’t look at her while you answer, turning your eyes back to Bucky, who’s still holding your wrist, while you say "I can see that. Don’t worry, Romanoff, I’m just glad Barnes finally has a partner that’s not incompetent."

All he does is stare confusedly at you, which makes you angry enough to yank your hand away from him, turn around and walk away, ignoring the calls of your name behind you.

You miss the sadness on Bucky’s face, or the way he questions Sam and Steve about everything you said and did since the second you entered.

Bucky, on the other hand, did not miss the tears starting to fall down your cheeks as you turn away.

You decide not to go to the competition the following day. It would be the first time you voluntarily miss one of Nat’s competitions, but you don’t feel like having a replay of yesterday’s show when it’s already been on replay in your mind all night.

Your absence doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends. Nat and Steve being the only ones that understand, even though they’re not very happy about it.

Another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by the group is how much more agitated than normal Bucky seems to be.

Even during competitions, he’s usually very calm, but today the only thing that makes him stop pacing around the room is Natasha’s sharp ‘would you sit down’ that makes him sigh and sit next to her on the bleachers where they’re waiting for their turn.

He can’t seem to keep his body still as he starts to bounce his leg up and down out of nerves, and can’t seem to stop even when the redhead gets up abruptly with an exasperated ‘for the love of god’ and goes to sit further from him and near Sam, exchanging seats with Steve, who puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, effectively bringing out of his head and making his body still with another sigh.

"You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to." Steve tells his anxious friend.

"You know I have to Steve. Otherwise Fury won't let me do other couples competitions."

"I know, but the whole reason you started doing them was for the chance to pair up with Y/N, which never even happened until now." Steve points out while frowning.

"I’m not the one that chooses the pairs, Rogers, it’s always Fury. He’s the whole reason Romanoff and I worked so hard this week just so she could do this. Plus Y/N’s never been interested in these competitions so this whole idea was just stupid to begin with. Now after I finally convince her, she gets hurt and thinks I think she’s incompetent, for some reason." Bucky hasn't been able to stop thinking about what you said yesterday.

Why would you ever think he thinks you're incompetent? He knows he's been a dick to you for years, but never has he ever said you were incompetent.

It's really just constructive criticism given in a poor way. A very poor way... Yeah, he really just has himself to blame for the way you feel about him now, he knows it.

He doesn't even really have a justification for it, either. If he's being honest with himself, he's intimidated by you.

The first time he saw you he thought you were the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, you were so graceful on skates and looked like you were exactly where you belong, lost in your own little world.

Then when Natasha said your name, he realized who he was talking to: the daughter of one of the richest families in town.

He'd heard a lot about you and your family, your impressive achievements on and off the ice. He's ashamed to say he felt small all of a sudden, knowing just from hearing about you that he'd never be good enough for you.

Still, he couldn't help but be drawn to you, couldn't help but watch you as much as he could get away with, but the only way he could justify that without being seen as a creep was to criticize what you did. It made sense, right?

Bucky is pulled from his thoughts, again, by Steve’s voice.

"Well, you were basically yelling that at her when she got hurt last week." at his words Bucky's just as confused as he was yesterday when you stormed out.

"I didn’t…" then it hits him. "I wasn’t talking about her! I was talking about Scott because he wouldn’t hurry up!"

"Oh. Listen, buddy, we both know you like her. You fucked up, big time, and it’s gonna take a lot to get her to forgive you. You could start by stop being an ass to her and apologize." Bucky knows the blonde is right.

It will take a miracle just to get you to look in his direction, let alone allow him to apologize, but he has to at least try to make things right.

He stands up suddenly, startling Steve, and says, "you were there for all our rehearsals, right? You know the routine?"

Steve is confused, but answers with a slow "yeah, why?" but Bucky gives no further explanation, too busy picking up all his stuff.

When Steve puts together what his friend is hinting at, he quickly says "I didn’t mean right now!"

"No time like the present! Go change." he says, nudging Steve toward the changing rooms.

"Buck, if you go now Fury’s gonna kill you!"

"I don’t care!" he yells, basically running out the door and ignoring Natasha yelling his name, the only thing on his mind being running to you as fast as he could. 

Every thought in his head, though, is instantly forgotten as he comes to a sudden stop at the top of the stairs outside of the rink.

There, at the bottom, is you, looking just as shocked at seeing him there as he feels.

After a few moments of just looking at each other, you can’t take it anymore and decide to break the silence. "I didn’t know if I should come in. Didn’t know if Nat wanted my support after I was so rude, you know."

When he doesn’t say anything and just stares at you, you feel the need to keep going.

"What are you doing out here? Did I miss your turn? How did it go?" that seems to snap him out of it and he starts to move towards you, still not saying anything and making you even more nervous as you start regretting coming here.

When he comes face to face with you, finally, he speaks. "I was gonna come looking for you." your brows furrowed in confusion.

"why?"

"I have owed you an apology for a long time now. I’m sorry for being a dick to you for all these years… it really wasn’t about you. I just felt insecure and acted out about it, and eventually I felt so used to it I couldn’t help it..."

You were shocked to say the least, this was the last thing you were expecting tonight. "You felt insecure? Why?"

"Because you’re you!" he almost yelled, gesturing to your whole body and startling you a bit. "I mean you’re a Stark, you’re kind of a legend who lives up to the legend. You’re smart and talented and confident and beautiful. I never thought I’d be good enough for you... I still don’t."

You don't know what to say, but you aren't running for the hills so Bucky keeps talking. "I’d also like to make it clear that I’ve never called you incompetent. I was talking about Lang, that idiot took ages to get his keys to drive you to the hospital. I didn’t even realize you might’ve heard me until Steve pointed it out to me just now while we were waiting our turn and I just had to find you and tell you."

Once everything he said actually registered in your brain, the words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. "Wait, you left the competition to come find me? Natasha’s gonna kill you!"

He chuckles a little while saying, "I’d be more worried about Fury."

"Fury?" You're confused again. "Why would you be worried about Fury?"

"He’s gonna be pissed that I left. He’s the whole reason Romanoff and I trained so hard to make it here, I wanted to skip it after you got hurt, but he said if I did he wouldn’t let me do any more pairs."

"I thought this competition was important to you, that’s the whole reason I said yes. And you wanted to quit it?" You're more confused than ever.

"It was important because it was my chance to finally spend time with you." he says, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I’d rather not do our routine at all if I can’t do it with you." he adds, shrugging. 

"really?" you can’t help but smile at hearing him say ‘our routine’ "But you and Nat work much better than you and I do."

"perphabs, but I still think you’re the best there is. Even when it’s with me, a person you hate." He says the last part while looking at his feet, almost afraid of saying it aloud and perfectly aware that he’s the reason why.

"I don’t hate you." you say, almost too fast.

His eyes snap back up to yours. "You don’t? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’d hate me if I were you."

"Sure, I don’t always love the things you say about my skills, but you’ll never criticize me more than I criticize myself. Mostly, you’re just a distraction." you say shrugging, not fully realizing what you just confessed.

"I distract you?" he says with a smug smirk that kind of makes you want to punch him, bringing his hand to your cheek.

You groan but let him keep it there, loving the feeling of his warm hand against your skin. "Don’t get cocky with me, Barnes."

He laughs, but doesn’t say anything else waiting for you to elaborate with an expectant look.

"Fine." you sigh. "Yes, you distract me. You might be a jerk, but I can’t concentrate when I’m around you. All I can think about is the sound of your voice, and the way you smell and the color of your stupid pretty eyes... I can’t help but like you, no matter how much of an asshole you are to me, for reasons I’m sure have something to do with my father."

He laughs again at your last sentence and you swear you’d never heard a better sound. "So I guess I should be thankful for you daddy issues, huh." he says making you laugh with him.

"Yeah, you very much should be." you put your arms around his neck when his hand drops from your face and his arms wrap around your waist. 

"You distract me too, you know. Everytime you’re in the room you’re all I can see..." He sighs. "I’ll never apologize enough for all the things I said to you, but let me try. Let me take you on a date, for starters."

You pretend to think about it all of two seconds before you’re nodding with a smile, so he adds, "What about right now?"

"Slow down there, Romeo, why don’t we go cheer on our friends first." you giggle at his pout while you take his hand and lead the way inside.

When you take a seat next to Sam, just in time to hear the announcement of Natasha and Steve’s names, there's no wiping the smile off of Bucky’s face. His arm goes immediately around your shoulders to bring you closer as you greet Sam that had a knowing grin of his own.

You watch your friends go through the routine perfectly, to your joy and surprise. You really are proud of them, and you make sure to tell them when they are close enough to the edge of the ice while waiting for their score.

"Maybe after we can all go out to eat something." Steve suggests, still slightly out of breath.

"I’m sorry, punk. I have a date that I’m not missing for anything in the world." Bucky answers without taking his eyes away from you, his smile seared onto his face.

Steve chuckles at how whipped his friend already seems to be, moving closer to the judges with Nat when it was time for their scores.

Second place, not bad for a last minute thing.

As you cheer for your friends while they're given their medals, Bucky leans down and whispers in your ear "we would’ve come first."

You burst laughing and Bucky known in this exact moment that he would do anything to hear that sweet sound for the rest of his life.

You look up at him and raise your voice just enough for him to hear over all the screaming, with a smile big enough to match his "We totally would’ve."

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes au #tony stark x daughter reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #avengers au #bucky barnes x reader #dad!tony stark #mcu au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #marvel au #y/n stark #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #literaryavenger's request

[carolmunson]

a thousand times a day | rockstar!eddie

fall frenzy req by @saltystormyx: 'I'd like to request a mini-fic with your rockstar!eddie au character. I'll leave it totally open to whatever you want to write.'

fall frenzy set list

back in action with a couple we haven't hung out with in a while! it was nice to get to revisit these two in some way. i had a different story for them to start -- something dirty and slutty -- but i just couldn't get into it. i needed something cozy for them. perhaps now that the seal is broken we can venture into some more slutty stuff between these two at some point. welcome to an early thanksgiving with the munsons before they were married.

tw: 18+, mostly very fluffy, some references to drug abuse, some references to using/addiction/getting clean. otherwise, two hotties in love. reader isn't referred to as 'stella' in this fic but the last name 'rink' is used a couple times to refer to reader and her family.

November, 1992

"I just, ugh honey I feel so awful to cancel on them." You blow your nose into a tissue but also direclty into the phone, making Eddie pull the receiver away from his ear for a second. You called in hysterics from a shoot in New York that you have to do pick up shots in Georgia and the earliest flight back they can manage is on Thanksgiving; leaving your plans to go back upstate to celebrate with your family in the dust. The flights had been paid for, even Wayne was making the trip to Syracuse to celebrate with you and yours. It was finally going to feel normal now that Eddie was three months clean and things had settled down some. He wasn't touring and they were only in the early stages of writing a new album and even then, the band spent most of their nights in the home studio instead of going into the city. Every now and again he'd come upstairs to grab more Pellegrino's out of the fridge and give you kisses on the cheek while you went over potential scripts.

Depsite having moved back at the beginning of November and back to falling asleep tied up with each other, you hadn't put your ring back on yet. It sat resting on your jewelry stand in your dressing room, as shiny and perfect as ever. Your bare ring finger sat as a reminder to him that he's not there yet; that he still has so much to prove -- but he meant what he said. You were gonna be his wife one day.

"Baby, it's okay. They're gonna understand," he assures softly, "It's not like you're doing it on purpose; they know you can't just not go." "It's just s-so stupid. An-an-and it's the first -- fuck, Ed it's the first one without Dad and I just feel so bad for my mom having to look at two empty seats and I don't know, babe. Like, I just feel like I'm r-ruining everything," you choke on your words, fully blubbering into the phone, make up smearing down your cheeks onto the hotel pillows you're leaning against. "You're not ruining anything sweetheart," his voice soft but firm, "You want me to get on a flight to you? I'll go right now."

"N-no it's okay," you sniffle, "I'm meeting up with Simone and getting dinner and we're gonna red-eye back home so we can get ready for Atlanta."

"Oh, so I get to see you tomorrow morning?" he grins, feeling selfish almost at how much he loves hearing your time away from him is cut so short.

"Yeah," you sniffle again, his heart pangs, "Probably really early."

"I'll have breakfast ready for you, okay? What do you want?"

"Um," you shrug to no one, "I don't know. Waffles." "Okay," he smiles, "Waffles it is."

The call home was less sweet; your mom understood but you could hear the dull ache in her voice. The subtle sadness mom's have in their register that they try to mask with an airy laugh -- years of feigning their own disappointement from life barely lived. She knows you're busy and she understands, she tells you a million times. You hear it but you don't feel it; you know she'd rather you blow it all off to come home again and see your family.

You'd rather blow it all off to see your family. Eddie had only seen your childhood home once -- quaint in size, snickered when he saw that you grew up with two guest rooms. He knew you grew up with it made, but you never made it so clear. You had walked through the trailer park to visit his old stomping grounds like you knew was growing up poor was like. Maybe you were a good actress after all.

He had waffles ready when you got in at five in the morning, who knows when he woke up to start. The Belgian Waffle maker you got sent as a wrap gift two years ago was finally out of the plastic, box still on the kitchen floor. Batter dripped down the sides and next to it a serving plate of a small mountain of waffles.

The pink stains on his fingers give a hint to who sliced all the strawberries and other fruit. Separated and glistening in the crystal bowls you really only take out for special oocasions.

Three cans of whipped cream sat at the end of the counter, one already opened with a small peak puffing out. 'Ya gotta try the product first, it's the whipped cream tax'

He's so silly. You missed his silly.

You're not home for very long, a couple days before you start packing for Georgia and you spend it all in his arms. Meals together, sitting on his lap in the studio while he tries out new melodies, you even spent one night curled up in the living room to watch a pay per view fight of Harrington's. Their friendship was finally starting to heal up after Eddie's last relapse.

He pouts when you get ready to leave, shrugging your coat on after you put the cordless phone down to confirm your car. You pout back at him.

"Don't give me that face, you're making me feel worse," you frown.

"M'just gonna miss you," he says quietly, "It's lonely here when you're not around."

"I know," you nod up at him. You don't mean for the comment to sting, but it does a little. It's not like he didn't want to be there with you this past year.

He leans down to kiss you, both hands reaching up to cup your cheeks.

"Don't be sad," he mumbles, nuzzling his nose against yours, "We'll have a nice Thanksgiving together when you get back, just us." "What about Wayne?" you ask, heart panging at the though of his Uncle eating alone. "Don't worry about it, sweet thing," he lets his lips linger against yours again for just a moment, "Wayne'll be okay."

The flight had never been more turbulent. Atlanta had never felt more cold.

You hear the phone ring and ring for the second time only to get the tin-like sound of your mothers voice again, 'Thanks for calling the Rink's! We aren't able to come to the phone right now; but please leave your name and number and we'll call you back. If you're trying to reach Stella Rink, please contact her publicist at Starmade PR Corp.'

"Hi, it's me -- again," you say into the receiver, "I'm sure you guys are busy cooking or have the game on but um, I just wanted to say happy Thanksgiving guys...God, come on, I know you're there. Just pick up!"

Your voice wavers, "I'm sorry I couldn't make it I just --" "NOW BOARDING FIRST CLASS - FLIGHT 7995 TO LOS ANGELES."

You feel a slight pull on your arm from Simone, sighing while you hang up the pay phone to make it to check in.

"They hate me," you mumble. "They don't hate you, Rink," she assures, hand soothingly skating up and down your back, "They know what your life is like." The flight is long and you sleep during most of it, the sad pit in your chest spreading through heavy in your body. You couldn't wait to just be home and eat take out on the couch with your man; have him whisper sweet nothings of reassurance while you pout in the glow of the TV.

Rain pours in California, which is not common but of course happening on the day you feel so awful. You hope that they at least called the house; that Eddie had messages to relay to you; anything so that the guilt didn't eat you alive.

You make it home faster than usual; everyone home with their families leaves less people on the road. You tip the driver triple the fare after he helps bring your bags to the door -- holiday cheer already flowing in your veins.

To your surprise, Eddie opens the door as you go to unlock it, his smile evident on his face. He's dressed cozily, black on black Corroded Coffin sweat shirt and matching pants, socks scrunch down on his ankles -- tattoos covered outside from what peek out at the wrists.

"Happy Thanksgiving, baby," he grins. He takes your bags, putting them to the side in the lobby while you kick your shoes off at the door. He pulls you in to a tight hug to his chest and even through the laundry detergent you can smell the food from all the way out here. Aromatics, butter, garlic, rolls, turkey -- it smells like comfort, it smells like home.

"Did you cook?" you ask with hopeful surprise, "You made like, a whole thing?"

"I did the dinner rolls and I bought all the food; but I'm kind of shit at that home cooking stuff so I called in some reinforcements," his laugh is grizzly with smoked cigarette gruffness.

"Come on," he ushers you forward, taking your hand while you walk through the entry way and down the hall towards the kitchen. His hand is warm and worn, still slightly clammy while the nervous teenager in him still stumbles over dealing with you. Being with you. Loving you.

The kitchen is busy, people bustling and moving and at first you think he must've just hired a team but then a flash of your mom's red Thanksgiving apron catches your eye. Your neice's giggle rings through the echoey walls. Your sister Luna sits at the breakfast nook with your nephew to keep him out of the way, helping him with a coloring book from deep in your stash downstairs.

"Wait, what?" you ask outloud. Your mom looks up, a smile in her eyes when she sees you. "Happy Thanksgiving, honey!" she smiles big, both of your sisters getting up and following her while they flock to you, a group hug of Rinks in the entry way of the kitchen. You heart swells in your chest while you feel them surround you, smell the familiar fragrance of your mom's perfume; your sister's shampoo. It had been so long, too long.

"What're you guys doing here?" you ask, tears welling up in your eyes while the emotion takes you over. You try to sniffle back the tingle in your nose while a cry comes on. "Well, Ed called us when you left for Atlanta and asked if we wanted to all come here," your mom answers, "He got all our flights and everything."

You look over your mom's head to see Eddie leaning up against the fridge, wiping his own tear away off his cheek to see you so happy.

"You were so sad, angel," he shrugs, "I didn't want your holiday to feel so lonely. So y'know -- I got everyone here for you instead. Can't have my baby sad on Thanksgiving."

Your lower lip wobbles when you look at him, his soft gaze while your sister's go back to their previous tasks, "Let me help you bring your bags up."

When he says help he means he takes them all in one trip, you take note that all the guest rooms have been set up. Your family already unpacked and lived in like they've been here a day or two. By the looks of their suitcases they'll be here through the weekend. Your heart swells again. "Where's Wayne?" you ask quietly while you make it into your room. He pops your bags by the entry way of the dressing room to unpack for you later, coming up close to you to press a kiss to your cheek. "He's out back smoking the Turkey and listening to Alice's Restaurant on a loop," he chuckles, "He just drinks beer and hangs out -- definitely has a little crush on your mom though."

"Oh my god," you giggle back, "Well she's very pretty, I get it." "He's got a real soft spot for your neice and nephew," he nods, running a hand over the top of your head, "He's gonna be such a great grandpa."

"I bet he is," you bite your lip for a moment, thinking about a future where that's true. Where you have rockstar Eddie Munson's babies. You wish you could report all of this to the papers instead of whatever shit they put in the tabloid rags about him. HANDSOME ROCKSTAR FIANCE SAVES THANKSGIVING FOR AMERICA'S SWEETHEART!

People would read that, right? You'd read that.

"Was it a good surprise?" he asks, "It wasn't too much to spring on you I was nervous th--" "This is perfect," you nod, "It's so perfect, honey. You're perfect." "You're perfect," he counters, arms wrapping tight around you to give you a tight squeeze, "Why don't you get yourself together and I'll meet you downstairs. I gotta set things up in the dining room, things'll be ready to plate soon."

"Okay," you nod, pulling your airport best off over your head while you watch him disappear back into the house.

Dinner was one to remember. You hadn't felt the true familial magic of the holiday since you were a kid and suddenly it had flown back with a veangance.

In true Rink fashion, the after dinner digestif of Irish Coffee followed you all down to the inhome theater to watch Miracle on 34th street; the little ones and Eddie nursing hot cocoa with way too many marshmallows pouring over the tops of the mugs. "I don't have to have one," you assured him, squeezing him arm gently while you looked at the cup in front of you. "Don't worry about me," his voice calm and confident, knowing he was only going to make it half way through the movie before falling asleep anyway. Most of your family did except you and Wayne who was surprised to find out he was making his way to California instead of upstate New York.

"Couldn't find my good winter boots so it turned out for the best, I guess."

Your sleepy family finally roused, your older sister getting the kids set up in their own room downstairs before she made her way up to her room. Luna and your mom following suit upstairs, Wayne following soon after.

You and Eddie clean up the small theater and head to the kitchen to assess the damage of what needs to be done. Eddie gave house keeping the weekend off to spend with their families; so for the first time in a while dishes like this were all on the two of you.

Thank god for dishwashers and a good Bing Crosby Christmas record -- you're able to clean up the kitchen in no time; stealing kisses in between songs, getting lost in a dance or two.

When you get upstairs to your room you're both exhausted; but not so tired that your eye don't linger when he starts to undress. You know you don't have the energy for the night cap he'd like but it's nice to watch him; the dip of his waist, the way his shoulder blades move under his skin on his back. "Still hungry, Rink?" he winks; heat flames your cheeks.

"No, no, I'm just -- y'know," you shrug innocently, "You look good, baby."

"Thank you," he hums while he changes into a pair of boxers for bed. You make your way into your dressing room and slip into a little night gown for the hell of it, silk and lace so he has something nice to wake up to -- something to show how grateful you are for putting this together.

When you crawl into bed next to him in the still of the night, one arm wraps around you instinctively. Heaviness dips into your eyes at the touch, it's always so hard to sleep without him there. Your hand smooths over his chest when he feels it; the drag of metal across his skin. His hand comes up to take yours and his thumb reaches up to search for it; breath catching in his chest when he can confirm it.

You put your ring back on.

"Really?" he whispers into the dark, "Yeah?"

"Yeah Munson," you nod into the crook of his neck, "Gonna be your wife one day."

#rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson au #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things au