#his skating is beautiful to watch

[iamidentical]

FRANK MAHOVLICH TRANSCENDS TORONTO

"Owena's Ode", @darkforestroads // "Viva Mahovlich!", Maclean's, 1961 // "It Should Have Been You", The Waterboys // Toronto Daily Star, Nov. 3rd 1967

[persimmontea]

A small gif set of *that* part of Shoma's programs the past few seasons ⋆˙⟡♡

Happy birthday Shoma! Your skating is truly special and unmatched. Wishing you the best in your journey towards finding your self-satisfaction~ Hope you have a great year ahead of you! ⋆˙⟡♡

[russianfigureskatinghell]

[hauntingblue]

Oden's prophecy of young pirates coming to save wano becoming yamato's hope for his freedom.... and him becoming oden because of it.... it's just so good... on the other side luffy taking ace's spot for liberating yamato... I think I hauve covid

[thewomaninlilywhite]

Damn. I knew Kao-kun flopped and I was still unprepared. That hurt.

[vriendenboekjes]

finally the haterisms i need

[constantvariations]

Just from a design standpoint, it's very disappointing that all the folks with bright, light color schemes (Yang, Weiss, Sun, etc) are also light skinned when it would be best to make them dark skinned - Sun and Yang especially given how little representation dark skinned Asians have

By doing this, Yang would finally be free of those awful brown slops of outfits while Sun and Weiss would stop disappearing into their white clothes because ☆~contrast~☆ would finally exist

[amakumos]

again, the sea of flags from japan. what can he produce? lying in fifth place. surely a medal is within his grasp, if he can skate anywhere near his top form. yuzuru hanyu, the music: hope and legacy

[nereidprinc3ss]

fixation

in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.

18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D

Spencer is reading. 

He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway. 

Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...

And... that's enough.

Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior. 

“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg. 

“Hi.”

For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm.”

His brow darts up. 

“With what, baby?”

Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy. 

Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly. 

“Um…”

Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—

You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp. 

It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out. 

“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout. 

“I was.”

Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”

“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He  cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin. 

“Don’t make it about me.”

You allow a minute to pass in silence. 

Fine.

“I liked it,” you say shyly. 

Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”

Like he couldn’t tell. 

“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”

His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”

You make a face. “Shut up.”

“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”

“Is that the saying?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”

“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”

Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck. 

“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”

His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”

It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”

“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”

“It was mean.”

“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’ll let me do it again?”

Spencer pulls you back into another kiss. 

“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?” 

When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly. 

“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”

You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward. 

“You’re so nice, Spence.”

“I thought I was mean.” 

“Now you’re nice.”

“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again. 

[kimmkitsuragi]

alright taking a break from gift bc i dont wanna watch it while im too sleepy to focus as i said. but god rondo makes me so emotional

[neo127]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ enha!hyung line (not so) subtly checking u out

pairing. enha x reader genre. hcs + fluff cw. only slightly suggestive + not explicitly fem reader but reader is mentioned wearing a dress and skirt

archives

HEESEUNG — he just couldn’t help himself…your skirt was just so short and your pretty legs on display. heeseung had basically ignored every girl at this party just so he could keep staring at you. he hoped the alcohol in his system would give him a bit of courage to go up to you instead of being creepy. but just to his luck, you approached him first.

“see something you like?” you teased, looking up at heeseung with those eyes that could kill him. he hadn’t seen you up close very often, but when he did it always managed to take his breath away.

“damn. and here i was thinking that my staring was subtle.” heeseung chuckled, taking a quick sip of his drink to drown his nerves. you smiled before sitting down next to the man, giving him your full attention

JAY — you were just so beautiful. whether you were wearing a well put together outfit or sweats, makeup or barefaced, you were always beautiful to jay. you were simply washing the dishes but jay was awestruck. he tried to be subtle about his staring, he really did, but he just couldn’t help himself from looking at you for about five minutes straight.

“do i have something on my face?” you asked, breaking your boyfriend out of his trance. jay shook his head and looked away shyly.

“you’re just so pretty…can’t help myself.”

JAKE — he constantly loved admiring you, but when you wore certain outfits he felt absolutely insane. jake was sure that you were trying to kill him when you stepped out of your room in a tight fitting dress. you had bought new clothes and begged your boyfriend to watch you try them on.

“jake, please say something you’re not saying anything.” you spoke up, looking at jake who had been gawking at you for a full minute.

“you look amazing.” he mumbled, practically drooling over your appearance. jake didn’t take his eyes off you, his eyes scanning your body like a starved man as he dragged you toward him on the bed.

SUNGHOON — it was extremely hard for sunghoon to focus during a lecture when all he could focus on was you. love and dating hadn’t interested him much in his teen years, he was too focused on ice skating and making it to his top university. he had mild crushes before, but none like you. you were radiant, a beautiful angel that somehow came into his life to bless it. sunghoon often stared at you in class, not too much to be considered creepy, but just enough so that way you didn’t catch on.

unfortunately for sunghoon, you had noticed for a few weeks now. you turned your head slightly, meeting sunghoon’s eyes and catching the man off guard. his breath hitched and he adverted his eyes quickly, feeling extremely embarrassed that he was caught.

[nateezfics]

i hope requests are still open, can you please do atz with a breeding kink?

ATEEZ WITH A BREEDING KINK

PAIRING — ateez x reader

GENRE — smut, romance, established relationship, boyfriend!ateez, parent!wooyoung, fem bodied!reader, sub!reader, soft dom!ateez

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex//creampie (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), breeding//impreg kink, cum play, cum eating, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, choking, shower sex, dirty talk//sexual language, intentional lower case and small font, intentional word abbreviations

WORD COUNT — 1.8k

SUMMARY — ateez breeding you.

HONGJOONG

a sharp thrust, and then another. the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, accompanied by the harmonies of moans and curses. the grip around your throat tightened, and all you could do was surrender your body to the pleasure coursing through you.

lips were at your ear. “you’re squeezing my cock so fucking good, baby,” hongjoong whispered, voice raspy with exertion and desire. his hips were brutal and grip firm. “gonna make me cum. gonna fill this pussy up so full. would you like that, huh?”

your nails dug weakly into his back as you tried to hold onto the last vestiges of your coherence. the lack of proper air and the promise of his hot seed had your mind reeling. you managed a nod and small whimper.

hongjoong smirked and lifted his head to peer down at you, enjoying the fucked out expression on your face. “i’ll breed this little pussy of yours, and you’re gonna take every last drop, yeah?”

his cock struck a chord deep inside and you spiraled into ecstasy with a hoarse whisper of his name. your own high urged him to his own, and just like he promised, he filled your hole with his seed, and you cried as you felt its warmth.

“you take me so good. so fucking good, baby.”

SEONGHWA

“fuck,” seonghwa groaned, hands pushing your thighs into the mattress and putting your pussy on full display. he was awestruck at the sight of you, your sex pretty and swollen and leaking his cum. “you’re so dirty.”

your cheeks grew hot at his words and at the feeling of his eyes examining your most intimate area. “s-stop staring.”

one of seonghwa brows quirked as he regarded you, a look of disbelief on his handsome face. “stop staring? how can i stop when your pussy is so beautiful.” his palms skated across your inner thighs until his thumbs were at your pussy, spreading your folds open to watch as his cum gushed out. “your pussy always looks the most beautiful after being fucked and bred so good.”

you didn’t have much time to process what he did next. his face dove between your thighs and his tongue licked a stripe up your slit before you could react, a choked moan falling from your mouth at the contact. “seonghwa!”

seonghwa laughed against you while he reveled in the mixed taste of you and him. “we can’t let all this cum go to waste, now can we?” his tongue was plunging between your folds in the next second, pushing all of his cum back into your hole.

YUNHO

your hands dug into the sheets while your spine arched uncomfortably. there wasn’t much you could do to brace yourself against his powerful thrusts except to take every bit of what he was giving you. you cried out as his cock churned your insides and battered that sweet spot repeatedly. you’d already cum a few times, overstimulation having you on the brink of pleasure and pain.

your slick and his seed dripped down your thighs; you were so full you were literally spilling, but yunho was determined to fill you up even more. “you can take some more, can’t you? this pussy was meant to be bred.”

you whimpered into the mattress as your body shook. “s’much, yunho. so full. can’t take anymore.”

yunho laughed at your small voice. “yes, you can. you can take one more load. i just can’t stop until i’ve properly bred you.” his voice was soft, a stark contrast to the way his hips pistoned into your backside hard enough to shake the bed frame. “you’re gonna look so pretty all round with our kid inside you.”

you yelped when he leaned over you, the size of him overwhelming you. his cock reached deeper at this angle, and it felt like there were wildfires on every nerve of your body.

“now, be good and take some more, baby.”

YEOSANG

“god, baby. you’re milking me so fucking good.” yeosang had you trapped in a mating press, your knees by your head. his cock was throbbing inside you; he was so close to cumming, and with the way he battered your sweet spot, so were you.

“yeosang, you’re so deep!” in this state it was impossible for your brain to comprehend much of anything outside of the way he filled you to the brim and stretched you wide. you were delirious, so drunk on his cock. “‘m gonna cum…”

he huffed, hot breath fanning your cheek. “yeah? you’re gonna cum? me too, baby. where do you me to cum?” there was an urgency to his voice.

“inside me, please.”

yeosang groaned, cock twitching at your plea. “inside you? want me to fill you up?”

you wanted, no, needed to be full of him in every sense. “y-yes! fill me up! i can take it, i promise.”

you were both reaching your ends at once, unraveling together with sighs and curses. your walls spasmed around him, coaxing every last drop of milky cum out of him. and you took every bit until you were leaking around him.

yeosang panted as his forehead rested against yours, cock still throbbing from the aftershocks of pleasure. “fuck, i love when i get to breed you like this.”

SAN

“god damn it.” your cunt had a tight grip on san’s cock, pulling him in like you never wanted to let him go. he bottomed out again and stilled, cock twitching with need to release while he was trying so hard to keep that from happening just yet. “god, this pussy of yours, baby. gonna get us in trouble.”

you whined at his stillness. you pushed your ass back into him to urge him to move, desperate for the orgasm that was now slipping away. “just cum inside me, san.”

he groaned and groped your ass while he attempted to hang on to his sanity. “cum inside you? want me to breed you, is that it?”

you shouldn’t have found him breeding you so hot. it was a dangerous game, but you wanted to play nonetheless. “yes, sannie. please.”

you were beginning to flutter around him, obviously aroused from the thought of his cum filling you up. san resumed his pace, fucking your tight pussy until you were unraveling around him. he fell apart right after you, spilling into you with a low groan falling off his tongue. and later when he watched the way his seed dripped from your hole, he knew he’d found his new addiction. “fuck it. one kid won’t hurt anyway.”

MINGI

“you want more?”mingi’s deep voice reverberated inside the steamy shower, as did the wet slaps of his hips against yours. he held you in place against the shower wall, your legs wrapped around his slim waist.

you moaned into his ear just as your hands gripped at his soaked hair. “please, mingi. i want more.”

he groaned at your cute voice. “are you sure your little pussy can take more? you’ve already taken so much…”

“fill me up again, please. i want your cum.” you were so delirious on his cock, begging for him as if he hadn’t fucked you full of his cum twice already.

mingi nipped at your neck as his cock twitched, your pussy clamping down on him so tight he felt like he could’ve lost his mind. you had milked him of everything he could give, but here you were, crying for more. and how could he resist you when you sounded so cute? “you’re so desperate for my cock and my seed. you’re so fucking,” a sharp thrust, “adorable.”

you clawed at his back as he drove into you deeper, harder. you were slipping and sliding against the wet wall, but mingi held you in his embrace securely even while his thrusts grew more erratic by the second.

“okay, baby. take my cum. take all of it like the good little cum slut you are.”

WOOYOUNG

“oh my god, wooyoung,” you huffed just as he bent you over the countertop, your dress hiked up and panties pushed to the side as he entered you. “we gotta go pick up the kids from my parents. we can’t – fuck – be late.”

wooyoung’s hips were swift and sharp, driving his cock into you so good it had your back arching. he took you over the kitchen counter, too fucking pussy drunk to even attempt leaving the house just yet. “need to fuck you first. need to fill you up.” he felt like he was a dog in heat with the way this primal need overwhelmed him.

you moaned as he hit that perfect spot inside you. he was fucking you in a frenzy, in a way that was going to have both of you cumming as quickly as possible. “wooyoung, ‘m not gonna last.”

wooyoung’s cock throbbed. “fuck, baby, neither am i,” his hands locked around your hips as he used them for leverage to fuck into you harder. “gonna fill you up, okay? gonna put another baby inside you. how does that sound? would you like that?”

your eyes rolled into your skull. “yes, f-fuck!”

wooyoung emptied himself inside you soon after, and the feeling of his hot cum inside you tipped you over the edge. he let you ride out your high, groaning as your cunt sucked him in and took every last drop from him. “just like that, baby. milk my cock.”

JONGHO

a deep plunge, a firm palm on your lower belly. “god, baby. you’re so full. how does your little pussy take me so well every time?” jongho’s thick cock stretched you wide with every dip of his hips, his palm feeling the bulge in your belly.

the pressure of his hand on your abdomen accompanied by his cock reaching deep inside had you at a loss for words. you were dumb with pleasure; the only thing that mattered to you was him.

jongho enjoyed the sight of you speechless from the pleasure. he pressed into you more firmly, and the whine that escaped you was immediate. “gonna cum inside you, gonna claim that womb of yours. think you can take it all, baby?”

you mewled at the meaning of his words, at the idea of him claiming you fully and completely. your cunt twitched with excitement, signaling to him you were already so close to falling apart. “y-yes.”

he smiled down at you lovingly. his eyes watched his hand as it remained firm against your lower belly. “you’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, belly round as it grows to accommodate our baby. tell me, you gonna let me fuck you when you’re pregnant, hm?”

you groaned. god, he was ruining you. breaking you down. you didn’t utter a word this time, just offered him a whimper and nod of your head.

jongho picked up the pace, his hand leaving your belly to grasp a hold of one of yours, interlocking your fingers. “good, now lay back and let me fuck you full of my seed.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES — “créme de la penis” lmao.

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @charreddonuts @hongthoven @httpseungmxn @itza-meee @jungkookieprincess @jaerisdiction @kitten4sannie @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @maltesejjong @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @svintsandghosts @thesafecafe @wolfgurl2600-blog @5starduca

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[russianfigureskatinghell]

[tutuandscoot]

Hi hello if you need me I’ll be binge watching every one of Jeff Buttle’s skating programs

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 02 // pt 01

simon topples to the ground, his padded knees hitting the ice. he feels bodies pile on top of him, gear and feet pressing into his sides, not with ill intentions—well, not completely with ill intentions—but simon does not care.

he saw that winning shot land, heard the cries of their fans—they're playing in home rink too—and feels the thrill of victory wash over him.

the referees pull them off each other and simon finally gets to stand. his chest is heaving, the cool air and the heat of his exhausted body causing miasmic reactions into his being. add that pretty doll of a fan he’s been eyeing into the mix, and the feeling of elation bloats.

peaking.

they rush off court, their coach trying to contain their buzzed energy just enough to be able to properly burn it off in the weight room. simon lags at the very back, eyes still flicking to that section in the audience as though by doing so, he’d get a quick glance of you.

of course he doesn’t, not when everyone’s turned into blurred specks—compact seas of their jersey colours.

“riley!” their coach hollers. “let’s go, let’s go!”

simon shoots towards him, his sheathed skates thudding against the padded floor as he makes his way into the weight room. johnny claps him on his back, their team cheering for him as he passes them on his way to the bench press, but he couldn’t really focus, not with his mind running; trying to make excuses that’d allow him to slip away just for a moment to scour the arena for, well, you, but nothing ever sticks.

every single one sounds pathetic and impractical. say, he was given the go-signal to roam around, what exactly are the chances he’d come across you again?

apparently, one-fuckin’-hundred percent.

“oh!” you gasp upon seeing him, your palm falling flat atop your chest in your surprise.

simon stumbles to his feet himself, his previous finesse on ice apparently having gotten zapped out the moment he’s back on land. garrick and mactavish turn, not expecting simon to stop, and even your friends, it seem, did not expect this run-in, as well.

simon watches as your lips part open, like you are gearing yourself up for a word, only to shut them close in your hesitation. you flit your eyes to him and away again, shyness rippling from your very movements.

he takes pity on you, and greets, “hey.”

it’s late when he realizes that he’s raised his hand up for a weak, little wave. he hears the distinct muffled laughter from mactavish already. garrick, at least, has the decency to actually smother it.

muppets, the two of them.

“hi!” you reply, giddy, your face beaming as you smile up at him.

lord, he thinks, you’re even more beautiful up close.

simon can’t help the way his lips tug up too, his own heart churning at the elation that is still singing in his veins. he pretends to not notice the way your friends shimmy out of his eyesight, pointing to their phones as though to say just give them a ring when you are done with your business with simon, before they run away, giggling to each other.

he twists to make discreet eye contact with his teammates. he tilts his head to the side, hoping to christ almighty that they take the hint.

go away.

he almost rejoices when they actually do, the two of them sending you polite smiles before walking away too. with your back turned to them, they make smooching actions, mactavish has even turned his back to simon, crossed his arms over himself, and ran his hands over his sides in mimicry of a hot make-out session.

garrick barks out a laugh, the sound ricocheting, and it takes your startled glance back at them for the two to truly scurry away.

you turn around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“sorry about them,” he murmurs, hand leaving his face to rub at the back of his neck. he feels his ears burning, surely flushed in his secondhand embarrassment.

“that’s okay,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. a jersey—his number. “congratulations, by the way.”

then, your smile grows bigger. brighter. “you were so cool! you went zoomin’ to our side and next thing we know you were–”

your words peter into a quiet stutter, like the events are unfolding in your memories the way his are too.

he remembers the high of having pointed at you; dedicating the winning shot to the fan whose awed look lit the fire in him. he remembers the certainty in him that he was going to land that shot; so sure he was of his victory.

it was exhilarating. dizzying.

“was it– did you mean it?”

“of course,” he croaks out, sweltering from within.

“oh,” you murmur, breathless, before whispering to him your name.

simon repeats it out loud, and it drips from his tongue like he was meant to always sound it out. like your name was meant for him to call.

you stare up at him with those beautiful, dazzling eyes, and he knows that he’s addicted. hooked.

“do you want to grab somethin’?” he asks, desperate to be with you for as long as you’ll let him.

“yes,” you reply, eyes crinkling in your delighted smile. “that’d be wonderful.”

you two walk side-by-side, mere inches between your shoulder and his, but simon wants you closer. he wants to bask in your warmth, in your scent. what do you smell like? something sweet and floral? or something clean?

he wants so much more.

as you warm up to him, smiling and laughing, and exchanging shy banters that has him feeling parched, simon realizes that there’s something beyond winning the playoffs and the cup that he is so desperate to fulfill.

fuck me.

this is still very much delusions of the heart but let me have it pls 😭 more than anything, i enjoyed writing hockey au sm and honestly i think u guys might have to pry this out of my clasped hands hhdhsh

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12

cw: modern au, chronic pain, alcohol, smoking

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words

Remus is quiet the next day at practice. Or maybe that’s only in your head. After all, it’s not like he can just shout across the ice at you like he used to at home, not with the rink packed with a dozen other figure skaters practicing before their events today and tomorrow. Maybe it’s only easier for you to imagine he feels as confused and conflicted as you do. 

Evidently you’d been wrong about the feelings between Remus and Sirius. Or if you were right, Remus hasn’t taken notice of it himself yet. But perhaps it’s not your place to assume that you know what he wants. As you learned last night, you don’t even know what you want. 

You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been wanting to kiss Remus until he did it for you. Your mind emptied out and your body reacted like it had been waiting for years, desperate to feel him, to learn all of him, with your mouth and your hands and the press of your nose against his cheek. Your skin became more sensitive than it’s ever been under his touch. You’ve never felt more aware of your body than you are on the ice, but Remus ignited something different in you. The softest press of his hand made you want to bend and mold yourself to his liking. 

Ordinarily, you’d be desperate to tell Sirius. He’s your best friend, your partner, he’s known about every crush you’ve had since you were teenagers. But when you woke up this morning, thought about seeing him and divulging every detail from the night before, something odd and unpleasant curdled in your gut. 

You’ve never had the urge to keep secrets from Sirius before. But this, you find, you don’t want him to know. It makes you feel sick even now, going in and out of turns with him while Remus watches you both from outside the boards. Watching your best friend look at you like everything is normal, with all the trust in the world, and knowing that you’re keeping this from him. 

You feel guilty, though you don’t know why. And you don’t know if it’s for kissing Remus or for letting Remus kiss you. All you know is that suddenly whenever Sirius looks at you, you feel like you’re holding his heart in your hands, and you aren’t certain you can be trusted with it. 

“The American is looking at you,” Sirius says as you finish your routine. 

You glance behind you, catching the eyes of another skater before he looks away. Your face heats. 

“He could’ve been looking at you,” you point out. 

“Babe, there are lots of people here looking at me, but just as many with their eyes on you.” Sirius grins, slipping an arm around your waist. “We can feed the rumors that we’re together if you want to keep them from bothering you,” he says in a low voice, eyes drooping in a show of flirtation, “but don’t pretend you’re not the most gorgeous thing here.” 

Remus’ voice echoes in your head. You’re beautiful. Your heartbeat pounds. Sirius is watching you with an easy familiarity, waiting for you to either give him the go ahead or tell him to back off. The feeling of his hand on your back makes something tighten in your core, even as that strange guilt spreads through the same area like a blight. 

You swallow. “Would you be okay to run the death spiral again?” 

Sirius blinks. “Now? It’s a bit crowded for that.” 

“I think we can manage.” You move away from his arm, taking him by the hand instead. Your eyes meet Remus’ as you skate to a clear part of the rink. Maybe it’s still only your imagination, but you think he looks as distraught as you feel. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Remus feels like a piece of shit. 

He’s known about Sirius’ feelings for you since forever, but you’d looked at Remus like he was still worthy of admiration and apparently that was all it took to bring him to his knees. It felt like the worst possible betrayal of Sirius, who was finally maybe becoming his friend, and then when Remus had tried to reverse course he’d hurt you, too. 

The way you’d looked at him—surprised, wounded, uncertain. Remus had been too panicked to give you the explanation you deserved. He’d left you like that. And though you acted normal at practice today, he can tell he’s left you confused. 

Weeks of building trust with the both of you—at first unconsciously, but lately with more intention and hope—and Remus has managed to ruin it in the course of a night. You and Sirius deserve better. 

Remus wanted to be your friend—if his actions last night were any indication, part of him has wanted to be more than that—but he’ll have to make it up to you by being your coach. If he can’t do anything else, he still can get you through this competition. He’ll leave it up to you to decide if you want anything to do with him after that. 

And part of being your coach, he reasons, is making sure you get enough sleep the night before competition. He doubts you’ll want to see him again, but still Remus knocks on your door to ensure you’re getting ready for bed at a reasonable hour. His heart squeezes when you answer with your toothbrush in your mouth, those sweet pajamas of yours creased and crinkled from the night before. You’re an angel for making it easy on him, your usual smiley self as you assure Remus you’re going straight to bed and wish him a good night before shutting the door. 

Sirius’ room is only next to yours. The lights are out, which Remus takes as a good sign, but when he knocks there’s no answer. He knocks again. 

“Sirius,” he says into the doorframe. “Just say something if you’re going to sleep.” 

He waits for a groan or a resentful grumble, but there’s no sound. He knocks for a while longer. When Remus finally gets out his phone to call his charge, he listens for buzzing in the room, but he doesn’t hear it. 

Sirius picks up on the third ring. 

It takes Remus a while to find him. Sirius’ instructions were vague and convoluted, partly because he was lost himself and partly because of the way his words were slurring. Eventually Remus locates the other boy on the rooftop of a bar, Sirius’ legs dangling out over the street and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. 

Remus has to negotiate with the bar manager for a handful of minutes before he’s shown the frightening metal ladder that goes up to the roof. When he sits down beside Sirius, the first thing he does is pluck the cigarette from between his lips. 

“Oi!” Sirius turns to him. Remus sets a hand on his chest, a perhaps overcautious measure to ensure he doesn’t lean himself right off the roof. “I thought you were cool about that.” 

“Not the night before comp.” Remus steals the cig for himself, looking at Sirius over the glow of the cherry. “Did they just let you up here?” 

It takes Sirius a second to catch onto what he’s asking about. “Yeah. Why?” 

Remus shakes his head, fighting a grin. “You always get whatever you want, don’t you?” 

Sirius' laugh is short and bitter. “Not quite.” 

He turns away from Remus, and Remus’ heart sinks. For a brief, harrowing moment, he thinks, He knows. 

Sirius says to the empty night air, “Why don’t we see how we place tomorrow, and you can tell me then if I always get what I want.” 

“Oh, I see.” Remus takes another drag, relieved. “So you’ve come up here to have a pity party about things that haven’t happened yet. Have I got that right?” 

Sirius pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Remus snatches it before he can react. The other boy turns around, angry now. “Piss off, Remus.” 

“Wish that I could,” Remus says evenly, stowing the pack in his pocket, “but it’s my job to make sure you perform as well as you can tomorrow. That means working lungs and a clear head.”

Sirius sulks but doesn’t try to grab them back. He only looks out into the black night. 

“Sirius,” says Remus, “if you’re worried about whether you’re going to medal, or what medal you’re going to get, that’s pointless. You can’t control how anyone else performs or how you measure up relative to them. All you can do is give your best to your routine.” 

“Right. Is that how you thought about it as well?” 

“No,” he admits. “But you guys didn’t hire a competitive teenage prick, you hired a coach.” 

Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. “I suppose that is better.” 

“I think so,” Remus agrees. He watches the other boy for a handful of moments, sensing an opening. “You know, when it comes down to it, doing your best might involve doing an actual death spiral.”

Sirius’ expression sours again, but Remus presses on. 

“I know you could do it if you wanted to. You don’t seem to want to, though. I don’t get why. At first I thought you might not trust y/n to keep herself level, but obviously you’d trust her with anything. And she trusts you to keep her there, too, so what’s the issue?” 

For a while, it seems as though Sirius might not reply. The silence is thick and heavy. He continues looking out at nothing, at the stars hidden behind thick clouds, but eventually his lips part on a sigh. 

“She trusts too easily. She shouldn’t be so sure of me.” 

Remus’ brows furrow. Something unexpected about getting to know Sirius has been learning how quickly all his brash confidence can crumble away. It’s almost never when someone else is upset with him; rather, when he’s upset with himself. Remus used to get irritated by the other boy’s bravado, but now he’s just beginning to realize how fragile it truly is. That he never needed to bring Sirius down a peg, because Sirius was almost always already doing it himself. He’s still not quite used to it.

“Let’s get back,” Remus says gently. “It’s cold up here.” 

Sirius doesn’t protest as Remus leads him downstairs, watching carefully as he climbs down the creaky ladder. On the street Sirius nearly walks into a brick wall, and Remus takes his elbow in hand to prevent it. 

“You know,” he says, “y/n was actually just telling me last night that she was worried she was going to let you down.” 

Sirius makes an appalled scoffing sound. “Her? What for?” 

“I don’t know,” Remus half fibs. “But it would probably sound equally ridiculous to her that you’re thinking the same thing about her. And from an outside perspective, it’s always seemed to me like you’re perfectly suited to each other.” 

Sirius makes a low, whiny sound. Remus startles when he pulls out of his grasp. 

“Neither of you get it.” He lists sideways. 

Remus grabs for him, getting an arm securely around Sirius’ waist. He can’t help but think that two weeks ago this sort of behavior from Sirius would have irked him, but now he only feels a bemused sort of tenderness. He doesn’t understand what Sirius is so upset about, but he can tell it’s not nothing. “Explain it,” he coaxes. 

Sirius seems almost relieved to have been pulled back. He lets himself lean into Remus’ side. “I don’t deserve her trust,” he says in a quiet, mumbly voice. “I don’t deserve any of her. I don’t know why good people like her and James and you always find me, but I’m no good at keeping you. I’ll get mean, or selfish, and you’ll see. But I can’t—” His voice thins, and Remus’ grip on him tightens unconsciously. “I can’t risk losing her. I’m going to get her hurt, and she’ll stop trusting me, and I’ll have let her down again. I can’t do it.” 

The pair walks for a while in silence. Remus can feel the shadows of deeper fears swimming underneath the ones Sirius has just divulged to him, but he’s not sure how to respond. Even during Remus’ most spectacular failures of his career, he was at least the only one who got hurt. He was never tied to anyone else, never risked anybody but himself. If he messed up, he suffered the consequences, and that was it. 

Remus holds Sirius against him as he uses his card to enter the Village. The halls are quiet, most athletes and staff having turned in for the night. 

“When I first started working with the two of you,” Remus says lowly, “I didn’t always see why y/n trusted you so much, either. You were a brilliant skater, of course, but you just seemed like such a tosser.” 

That works as intended, getting a puff of laughter out of Sirius. 

“But I knew I had to figure out a way to work with you, and she just seemed to have complete faith in you. So after a while, I just started trusting that she knew what she was doing. She knew you better than I did, of course, so I figured the two of you had an understanding I just couldn’t comprehend. And the longer I worked with you, the more I could see how she was right.

“What I’m trying to say is, it took me a while to trust you, but I came around because I trusted her. You trust her, don’t you?” 

Sirius has been quiet, but at this, he looks up as though in surprise. “Of course, yeah.” 

Remus suppresses a smile. They both fall silent as they pass by your room, eyes catching on the door you’re sleeping behind like there’s a siren’s call coming from within. Remus wonders if it’s for the same reasons. 

After Sirius lets them into his room, Remus continues softly, “So maybe you ought to give it a try. If you can’t trust yourself, trust the faith she has in you. When is she ever wrong?” 

He expects Sirius to smile at that, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for joking. His eyes are big and sad as he sits down on his bed, a quiet sort of asking in them. 

“I think she could be wrong about this,” he says in a near whisper. 

Remus’ throat aches with sympathy. He crouches by Sirius’ feet, ignoring the protests of his hip to start taking off the other boy’s shoes. 

“She’s not,” he says. “She’s just smarter than the both of us. You’re loyal, and brave, and kind. She’s always known that, but it took me a while to catch on.”

“I’m not.” Sirius sounds almost desperate. 

Remus doesn’t back down. “You are.” Frustration and tenderness war inside him. He sets his hands on Sirius’ knees, looking him in the eyes. “Why would I lie to you?” 

A look comes over Sirius face, peculiar only in the moment before Remus recognizes it. He’s seen Sirius look that way a thousand times. At you. 

Remus’ heart thumps. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Remus’ thumb strokes over his thigh, and Sirius’ heart does something abhorrent behind his ribs

“Sirius.” Amber eyes look into his, warm and earnest and unrelenting. “Why would I lie?” 

Sirius began to sober up as soon as Remus called him earlier tonight. He’d started drinking to try and rid himself of that pesky, familiar feeling of derealization that had taken hold, but he’d stopped then. Paid his tab and gone up to the roof, where in the cool air Sirius had the powerful, frightening urge to wait for Remus and tell him everything about himself. Tell him every last terrible thing and see if he flinched. 

Only he hadn’t flinched. He’d taken Sirius home, whatever drunkenness was left lost on the wind during the walk, and taken his shoes off for him, and told him in various words that he was worth something. 

And now Remus is rubbing the sides of his knees. And his hands are gentle and so are his eyes, and his expression says that he believes it, that Sirius is worth something, and Sirus thinks, Fuck it. 

If it goes poorly, he can say tomorrow that he was drunk and doesn’t remember a thing.

Sirius mashes his lips into Remus’. 

A hoarse sound tears from somewhere inside Remus. He pushes against Sirius’ mouth, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pressing him backwards onto the bed. The mattress is hard and the frame creaks under their combined weight, Remus’ hand finding Sirius’ throat and wrapping around it like an embrace. 

Sirius flips them over. Remus lets him, reclining back against the pillow propped along the wall and tugging Sirius closer like someone’s going to rip him away. He tastes like chocolate and cigarettes. A low whine rises in Sirius’ throat. 

Remus’ hands loosen their grip. “Wait.” 

“No,” Sirius pleads. 

“Aren’t you….” Remus pants. He pulls their lips apart but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Sirius’. “I’m confused. I thought you had feelings for y/n.” 

Sirius sucks in a breath. “You know about that?” 

A quiet, nervous chuckle. “Yeah, love. But you’ve just kissed me, so…I suppose I’m wondering what that means.” 

Sirius’ heart trembles. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is a balm. He kisses Sirius once, a soft peck. “What do you feel?” 

Sirius opens his eyes and finds Remus watching him. The other boy’s forehead sits a bit higher than his, so Sirius has to tilt his gaze up, feeling cracked open and wretched. 

“I don’t know,” he says again, softer. “Is it bad to want both?” 

There’s a brief pause. Remus’ brow creases slightly. “I don’t think so,” he replies. “But I have to tell you something.” 

Sirius takes his forehead away from Remus’, putting a couple of inches between them. “Go on, then.” 

“Last night, I kissed y/n.” 

Sirius braces himself to hide a reaction, but there’s nowhere to hide from Remus’ perceptive gaze and after a moment, Sirius finds there’s not much reaction to hide anyway. He doesn’t feel upset. The idea of Remus kissing you is…well, it’s not unlike hearing him call you pet names or watching him touch you. Sirius doesn’t wish that Remus hadn’t done it, only that he’d been there as well. He does sort of wish that he’d gotten to kiss both of you first, though. 

“I stopped it as soon as my head caught up to me,” Remus goes on. He seems to be studying Sirius, though Sirius has no clue what he might find. “I felt really awful for doing it when I knew you had feelings for her, but now that you’ve said that, I think I might have feelings for both of you, too.” 

“Brilliant.” Sirius’ heart is hammering, but he does his best to make his voice sound unaffected. “Then what do we do now?” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You stumble out of bed half-awake. You’re not even entirely sure if someone’s knocked on your door or if you’ve dreamed it, but your feet propel you there with urgency nonetheless. You rub your eyes as you open it, mouth stretching with a yawn. 

Sirius and Remus are standing outside, both rumpled but still in their daytime clothes. Their pupils are blown and lips wet and swollen. 

“We were wondering,” says Remus, slightly breathlessly, “if you might have a moment.”