#ice skater! reader

[lenacosse]

Hockey player!Sirius x Ice skater!Reader that are rivals smut.

pairing: sirius black x fem reader

cw: strong language, smut, choking degradation

word count: 3,041

‘i could tell that you were bad news

but i kept messing with you, messing with you

and now you’re messing with me, messing with me’

════════════════

You step onto the ice, the cool air wrapping your body in a familiar hug. You were particularly excited today for practice because you were doing it alone, you loved your coach she was great but there was something so therapeutic about being the only one. You do your usual warm up, a few laps and simple tricks. At the minute you were training up for a major competition that would dictate your future in skating, however knowing this it didn’t make you worried because you knew how good you were. You’d been doing this your entire life which has maxed out your skills, anyone would be stupid to not acknowledge your talent.

After your fifth lap your body was heating up and your blood was pumping faster- desperate to get started. You skate over to the speakers and start your routine, this routine was the most intricate you had ever been set but you were destined to perfect it, and so far it was going good. As you were landing your butterfly spin the music cut off, you turned around to hear a wolf whistle. Your face dropped as you saw who it was.

“Black. What are you doing?! Turn the music back on I’m rehearsing.”

“We’ve came to practice. Get off the ice.”

You skate over to him, he’s standing there with a smug look on his face. He’s decked head to toe in is hockey gear and holding his sticks, beside him is his friend James. You weren’t sure which one of them you hated more.

“I don’t care.” You cross your arms, he rolls his eyes at you. “Your team has practice in an hour. The rink is reserved for figure skating.”

“What do you need the rink for? Dancing. You skaters are fucking ridiculous.” Sirius scoffs.

“Oh yeah you’re right! I’ve no reason to be here, you said it yourself, skating isn’t a sport.”

“It isn’t.” James adds, you feel the anger rising in you.

“Shut the fuck up Potter! I’m not leaving the rink. You both have scheduled practice in an hour, just fucking wait til then.”

You ignore the protest that Sirius is putting up and skate back to the speaker, resuming your rehearsal. You try to ignore the taunts the two boys are sending your way, they tormented you to move as they set up their nets, you pushed the net half way across the rink which pissed Sirius off.

“If you move that one more time I swear to god.” He fumed.

“I told you already Black I need the space! I have a competition in a month.”

“And I have matches. I don’t care about your stupid hobby.”

“Hobby?! Fuck you.” You exclaim and angrily make your way back to your side of the rink. You felt all eyes on you as you performed, you could feel Sirius judging you. You truly hated him beyond explanation, he was horrible to you ever since you met him four years ago.

He constantly denied your talents, sabotaged your space and made you feel inferior to him. Most ice hockey players done that to the figure skaters, they didn’t see the art in it. But you didn’t care, Black’s words bounced off you and you redirected them back at him. You knew he was a rough fuck boy who cared way too much about sport, ice skating was a creative outlet for you, a deep passion that let you express yourself, a talent that you could master. But for Sirius hockey was an anger outlet, he could be rough and mean on the rink. He also saw it as an excuse to disregard school and education, one injury and you knew him and his precious future was fucked. Of course he was in denial about this, like most men are. But anyways, his beautiful face and toned body didn’t distract you from his venomous personality and sleazy mouth.

You were practicing your axel, that is until a a hockey puck files right at you. Hitting you in the chest, the aggression of the blow sends you flying, you land awkwardly on your back with your ankle tucked under your leg. You cry out in pain, you look up to see James with a conflicted expression on his face and Sirius plastered with a smug grin.

“Knew you were a shit skater.” Sirius taunts. You get up in an instant, the anger you felt overpowering the pain of your ankle.

“You fucking bastard! That wasn’t funny Sirius I could have got seriously injured.”

“I didn’t think you would fall fucking hell give me a break.”

“Give you a break?! Fuck you are ridiculous! You can take this fucking puck and shove it up your arsehole you wanker!” You pick up the puck and throw it at him, it only enrages you more as he catches it. You could have quite literally strangled him.

As you storm off he shouts back at you, “guess we lost our ‘best skater’.”

“You know plain fucking right that I’m better than you! You’re a sad excuse for a player.” You yell as you take your skates off.

You walk around the corner out of sight to put your shoes on, you knew this was the final straw with him. You were debating reporting him, but you weren’t petty and you knew he was just childish, so for now you would leave it. You were about to walk away but stopped as you heard James speaking.

“Don’t you think that was too far?” He asks as him and Sirius resume with their practice.

“No? How is it too far?”

“…she could have gotten hurt” James responds.

“She didn’t.” Sirius sighs, “look I don’t know why you care, she’s a bitch who’s always had it out for me so I correspond with that attitude.”

“Still. You shouldn’t have fired that puck at her, if she tells the captain you’re off the team.”

“She won’t.”

You rolled your eyes as you heard that, of course he assumes you’ll be nice and pity him. But he’s right, you won’t because just like him the captain didn’t care for the opinions of the figure skaters. That to you was most likely the reason Sirius was such a dick, you walk away- not caring for the rest of their stupid conversation and get changed in the locker room. Your ankle was swollen but nothing serious happened, that you only could be thankful for. It would be an absolute disaster if your ankle broke before your competition.

════════════════

The next day you arrive again at practice, again alone. You had a later scheduled one on one with your coach but your entire day was free so you decided it was a good idea to get there early. So again, you go onto the ice and start your routine. Out of the corner of your eye you see Sirius putting in his skates, you audibly groan and watch as he skates onto the ice. However he barely acknowledges you. You thought he was going to leave you alone, until after you landed your spin he approaches you.

“Looking wobbly (Y/L/N).”

“Fuck off Black.” You snarl and send him a glare.

“You’re cute when mad.” He smirks.

Your face screws up in disgust as you scoff. “Leave me alone. Go annoy someone else.”

“Ah but no one reacts like you do, theres no fun it in.”

“Oh you get off on bullying? How charming.”

“You’re just as bad,” he winks. You gag at him and move across the rink in an attempt to get away from him.

Surprisingly he takes the hint and leaves you be for awhile, but you could see him staring at you. Watching your every movement, his eyes following you like a predatory animal about to pounce. You felt uneasy under his gaze, you hated to admit but he held power in his eyes. There was something about him underneath all the hatred that fascinated you, but that was only a minor thing. And of course once he started to piss you off again you were reminded of this hatred. This time he chose to mess with your music, he kept turning it off and changing it to another artist.

“Stop. Leave it be.”

“I’ve had enough of watching you gallop around the rink.”

“I’ve got a solution for you genius, leave. Go on, piss off I don’t want you here.” You spoke in a child like tone to mock him.

“You go. You come every day I can’t get a fucking minute alone in here.”

“I come here to rehearse. And too fucking bad, you don’t own the rink I have every right to be here. I pay to use this.”

“Rehearse? Fuck me you are delirious, figure skating is ridiculous.”

“No you know what, I think you’re jealous. You’re threatened because I’m the only one who meets your match. Right? You think undermining me and making fun of me will make me quit so then you’ll be the best.”

“What we do is completely different, so no. I’m not jealous.”

“I know what we do is different. But you’re so shallow that you’re threatened by everyone, you want to be the best contributor to this company but you can’t because you think I’ll beat you every time.” You move closer to him, you eyes locking in on his. He looked mad, you were getting under his skin.

“Im not threatened by anyone. To think that you’re even on the same playing field as me is crazy. You’ll never be as good as anyone that contributes to this company. You’re an awful skater.”

You just smirk, he was trying so hard to hurt you but it wasn’t working. You knew you were good, that you earned. “Nice attempt.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“The feelings mutual.”

You both share intense eye contact. You head was running wild trying to find something to say, but the way he was looking at you was making your brain fog. All you could think of was the way his jaw flexed when he smirked, how his veins became prominent as he balled his fists or how his eyes were laced with pure lust as he looked into you doe ones. You couldn’t believe standing in front of him you felt sexual tension between you both, you broke the eye contact and cleared your throat.

“Fine dickhead. Have the entire rink.” You sneer and walk off the rink. Removing your skates and walking back to the females changing rooms. Before you open the door you feel a hand grip your wrist and pull you back.

You’re met with Sirius’ face, he looked different than usual, his pupils were expanded and his jaw was tight. He pushed you up against the wall and whispered into your ear.

“I want to fuck you until you forget your name like the slut that you are, maybe then you’ll think twice before running your mouth.”

You squeeze your thighs together as he speaks, his voice was rough yet sultry at the same time. You didn’t know what to say, so you just flashed him an innocent expression which made him grunt. He leaned back down to whisper into your ear.

“Strip down and stand in the shower. I’ll be there in a minute.” With that he walked away, you stand there for a second baffled by that encounter, but without thinking you walk in the changing rooms.

First you take off your leg warms and leave them right at the door, then your tights, then your jacket, then your shirt, then your skirt, then your panties and finally your bra. You left him a trail to find you. You step into the shower and pull the curtain, you stand with your front to the wall, your back to the entrance. You turn the water on and step until, working your way through your hair as the water soaks it. You heard the curtain open and your stomach flipped. Before you knew it you were pressed against the wall and Sirius was behind you, his hard cock between your thighs.

He grabbed your hair, pulling your neck back so you were looking up at him. You bit your lip at the sight, his hair was now wet and droplets of water fell from his hair down onto his face. You hated how beautiful he looked. The sight before you was making you drip with arousal, you’d never felt this way before about anyone and the hatred between you both only made this feel even better.

“Look at you, waiting for me. Fuck you’re so pathetic.” He snarled. You just looked at him with you doe eyes, your lashes fluttering.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You smirked. A whimper escaped your lips as he tugged hard on your hair, he let go of your hair and instead wrapped his hand around your throat, applying a little bit of pressure. You couldn’t deny the fact that you liked it.

He ran his other hand down your back, sending deep shivers up your spin. His hand stopped at your ass. You cried out as he smacked it, you didn’t except it but surprisingly you liked it. He ran his finger over your slit, his eyes grew darker as he felt how wet and eager you were.

“Is this turning you on? Am I making you excited?” He whispered a low growl on the end of his words. You nodded in response, suddenly he shoved two fingers inside you, a gasp escaped your lips, he searched for that sweet spot and immediately found it. You eyes rolled back as he pumped his fingers onto it, you gripped the metal shelf as your legs lightly shook from under you. Sirius kept going, getting faster and more aggressive as you got closer to that release. Your muscles tightened around you and he immediately pulled his fingers back.

You whine in response opening your eyes again and looking up at him. “Why’d you stop.”

“Felt like it,” he shrugged. He let go of your throat and grabbed your hips. You felt him rub his tip at your entrance and you moved back further, showing him how much you wanted this. “You’re such a slut. But I love it.”

He thrusted into you, gentler than you had expect. However that didn’t last long, once you had settled he pushed you even further against the wall and pinned your hands together at your back, his other hand gripped the metal shelf. He pounded into you at an insane speed, his thick cock stretching you out in the most divine way. He hit your good spot perfectly which had you rolling your eyes and moaning continuously. Every noise you made and urged him to go faster and harder, you swore your pelvic would inevitably be bruised from this but frankly you didn’t care. It felt too good.

“I- fucking hate you.” You moaned, your words were sloppy and broken.

Sirius chuckled from behind you and leaned to your ears. “I hate you too. But I bet no one has had you moaning like this.” He kissed down your neck, you could swear at one point he bit your neck but everything blurred into one so you couldn’t be sure, but that didn’t matter because everything he was doing was beyond attractive.

You felt the coil in your stomach snap and you released around him, your legs shook as he kept going. You heard his low groans in your ear, it quite literally was the hottest sound you’d ever heard. He kept going until you came again, this time it was intense. You were overridden with euphoria as you saw white, your legs nearly gave way but Sirius put a steady hand under your to hold you in place. He slowly pulled out and let your arms go. You looked back at him.

“What about you?”

“You’re going to get on your knees and finish the job.” He said, he helped you down and you were now in level with his cock.

This had you biting your lip in anticipation. The way the water fell down on him could have turned you on all over again, he put his hands into your hair, guiding your mouth to his cock. He wasn’t small that was for sure, you licked a long slow strip from his base to tip, slowly you wrapped your lips around his tip and started to suck. You moved your head up and down him as you hollowed your cheeks, he tasted heavenly on your tongue. You were enjoying the noises coming out of his mouth. You slowly pulled your head back releasing his cock from your mouth, you wrapped your hand around the bottom and stroked him as your tongue ran over his slit, the practically whined as you done this, you looked up at him. His eyes were closeted and his face contoured with pleasure. You smirked and resumed, taking your time to draw out those beautiful sounds from his mouth. That was until he grew impatient. He grabbed your head and took back the dominance, he fucked your mouth hard. Your eyes were watering and tears were falling out, but you were loving every moment of it. You kept up with his thrusts, sucking him eagerly. You could tell he was close when his movements got sloppy. And as you expected he came in your mouth, hot white liquid shooting down your throat. Slowly you pulled your head back, swallowing his cum. He looked down at you with a satisfied smirk.

“We’re doing that again.”

You nodded in agreement and he helped you up, you made him pass you in your shower products in your bag. He got dressed and turned to leave.

“See you later (Y/L/N). Better not hog the rink tomorrow with your galloping.”

“Cant make any promises dickhead.” You roll your eyes. He just smirked at you and left. You showered and got ready for your next rehearsal, you still couldn’t believe what happened but it was the best sexual experience you’ve had which you would not say no to if he wanted to do it again.

[suiana]

yandere! ice skater and first time skater reader. gang this is so gangsta!!! imagine going onto the skating rink for the first time and falling constantly like a little kid 😂😂😂 u even have a helmet and one of those seals 😂😂😂 meanwhile yandere! ice skater (who's also your longtime admirer) is literally an olympic skater that makes doing jumps and axels look easy.

"AURGH-"

"oh dear, shall i help you?"

the ice skater gracefully glides over to you as you fall onto your ass for the fifth time since you fell onto your ass. you came in ten minutes ago.

he meticulously adjusts your position, teaching you the basics while holding onto your hand as he encourages you.

"well done, you're doing great, sweetheart. yes, just like that..."

by the end of your little lesson with him, you could hold yourself up for at least ten minutes!!!! wowzers!!! you thank him gratefully before trying to skate off...

only to realize that he was still holding onto your hand.

"where do you think you're going? i never said our lesson was over, did i?"

?????

[avatar-anna]

When You Fall In Love...

so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood

part one, part two, bonus, bonus

Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.

Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.

But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.

Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.

"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.

"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.

Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.

"I'm fine."

She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."

Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.

He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.

But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.

"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.

"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.

Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.

Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."

Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.

So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

*.*

"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"

Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.

Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.

Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.

She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.

And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.

His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.

Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.

It was love at first sight.

Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.

He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.

They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.

So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.

Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.

To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"

"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.

When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.

That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.

*.*

"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am! God, Harry, I am."

"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."

"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.

Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"

"No!

"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"

"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"

You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.

"Y/n—"

"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."

You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.

At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.

Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.

"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.

"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"

It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.

You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.

Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.

"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."

You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."

"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"

"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."

You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.

Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."

You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.

"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."

"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.

It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.

"Oh."

"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."

"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"

"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."

"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."

You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"

"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."

"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"

"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.

"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."

Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"

"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.

Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."

"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."

"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."

Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."

"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."

"Shut up."

"Make me!"

And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.

[hoe4hotchner]

Chapter 1 - First impressions

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x figure skater (fem)!Reader

Summary: The story follows you a figure skater training for nationals and Aaron Hotchner as your lives intertwine during an investigation into the abductions of young athletic women, including the your close friend, Leah. As the BAU delves deeper into the case, you find yourself captivated by Hotch’s quiet strength and protective presence. When Leah’s body is tragically discovered at the rink, the tension escalates, surrounding you in an atmosphere of fear and uncertainty.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Case talk, mansplaining, mentions of murder, mentions of kidnapping.

A/N: Here ye here ye!! Chapter 1 is here for everyone to read. The amount of times I mention the word "discipline" and "weight" in this chapter is crazy.

Masterlist

           The conference room at the BAU was buzzing with a quiet and anticipatory energy as the team filed in, each member cradling a cup of coffee and carrying their files. It was early - earlier than usual - but no one seemed surprised. It was not unusual for them to be called in early. This was routine. Yet, something felt different. They didn’t have all the details, but the call for a briefing sounded urgent and hinted at a case that would require every ounce of their focus.

           Hotch stood at the front of the room, his expression unreadable as usual, but the slight tension in his posture was enough to make the others take notice. Morgan slid into his seat, casually glancing at the iPad in front of him while Reid shuffled through his usual pile of notes. Emily and JJ exchanged brief, curious looks shot towards Hotch, their voices hushed as they speculated about the case.

           "Alright, listen up," Hotch said, his voice cutting through the hum of the room as he moved in front of the screen. The screen was still blank behind him, it stood like a canvas waiting to be filled with the details of their current nightmare. He clicked the remote in his hand, the screen flickering to life, displaying the images of young women. One by one, their smiling faces filled the frame - each picture a snapshot of life before it looked to have been ripped away.

           "These women," Hotch continued, gesturing toward the images, "have all gone missing from the same local area over the past month." The room fell eerily silent, eyes fixed on the screen. The women were similar, maybe a little too similar - each in their 20's, all athletic, with the same builds. Their smiles, once vibrant and full of life, now seemed haunting as pictures of the first two victims' dead bodies flashed onto the screen and painted a grim picture.

           The team’s focus sharpened, the weight of their faces settling in. Reid leaned in slightly, eyes darting over the patterns he could already see emerging. Each woman had lived a life filled with potential and discipline.

           "Athletes," Hotch added, his voice quieter now but firm. "Every one of them. Fit, disciplined, and otherwise healthy." His words hung in the air as the team began to form their own theories. A disturbing pattern was taking shape, though none of them knew yet just how far the darkness stretched.

           He clicked again, bringing up a detailed map on the screen. Red markers indicated the precise locations where the women were last seen and likely abducted. "As you can see," Hotch said, gesturing toward the first two marks, "the first two victims were last seen leaving local gyms in the early evening. Both were alone, security cameras showed them heading to their cars, and when their car leaves the frame that is the last image we have of each victim."

           He paused, then pointed to the third marker. "Leah Connors, our most recent victim, was taken from this parking lot outside the Ice Pavilion, where she trained late at night, four days ago. She had just finished her skating practice when she was abducted. The security cameras in the lot were offline, and no one reported seeing anything suspicious in the neighborhood at the time."

           Morgan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the map intently. He traced the lines connecting the crime scenes with his finger, the pattern beginning to form in his mind. "So, what we're dealing with here," he said, voice low but firm, "is someone who's deliberately targeting a specific type of woman. These aren't random grabs Hotch; he’s choosing women who are strong and fit, and certainly doesn't lack discipline. They likely represent something to him, something personal."

           Morgan’s eyes lingered on the photos of each victim, each woman’s face radiating vitality and ambition. His gaze hardened as he thought through the unsub’s motives. “These women... they could represent control, strength, maybe even perfection to him,” he said, his voice heavy with the thought of what they were about to unravel. "Whatever it is, he’s fixating on women who push their bodies to the limit - athletes who excel physically, women who embody discipline and hard work." His hand gestured toward the images.

           He paused, searching for the right words to capture the darkness of the unsub’s obsession. "It’s like he’s trying to take something from them. Maybe it’s about proving something to himself - dominating women who represent everything he can’t be or control."

           Hotch nodded, stepping forward to add to Morgan’s analysis, his expression grim as he clicked through more slides, each woman’s profile now paired with disturbing notes on their abductions. “According to the initial eval from the field office,” Hotch began, his voice steady but sharp “the unsub may otherwise also be fixated on women he perceives as physically perfect. This could be about asserting dominance over women he feels are unreachable - and as you said Morgan - out of his control.”

           He pointed to the reports beneath each victim’s image. "His method of abduction supports that theory as well. There are no signs of a struggle, no chaos left behind. He’s quick and efficient, which suggests planning. He's organized and methodical." He looked at the team, the weight of his words settling in. “There’s no indication that these women had any chance to fight back. He took them swiftly, without warning - meaning he’s done this before, and he knows how to overpower them.”

           The room was tense as they absorbed the initial profile, each member of the team seeing the chilling precision with which this unsub operated. The victims weren’t just targets - they were symbols, reflections of something he needed to control, no matter the cost.

           “There’s another possibility we need to consider,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “The precision of these abductions suggests he might be more familiar with the victims than we might initially think. Since there’s no sign of a struggle, it’s possible these women knew the unsub, or at least didn’t perceive him as a threat when he approached them.”

           Morgan nodded, leaning forward. “Maybe he’s someone from their world. A coach, trainer, someone who works behind the scenes - someone who blends in.”

           “It would explain why there are no signs of force near the abduction sites. If they trusted him, or at the very least didn’t suspect him, they wouldn’t have their guard up.” Reid added quietly.

           Hotch glanced back at the board. “If that’s the case, the unsub may have been watching these women for a while - learning their routines, embedding himself in their lives just enough to get close without raising suspicion. We need to find out if any of them had contact with the same person before they disappeared.”

           It was a chilling thought, and the room seemed to grow heavier as the possibility settled in. The unsub wasn’t just a predator lying in wait - he could be someone they knew, someone they had trusted.

           Hotch clicked the remote again, and Leah’s photo appeared prominently next to those of the other victims once again, their smiling faces a stark contrast to the grim reality of the case. “Leah’s abduction is what ties us to a new lead. Her figure skating coach, Mark Branson, has a documented history of controlling behavior. Several athletes he’s worked with have come forward with complaints about his intense training regimens, which they described as bordering on abusive. He pushes them beyond their limits - physically and mentally - creating an environment that fosters both fear and dependency.”

           He paused for emphasis, letting the significance of the information settle in the room. “Despite these allegations, he’s never faced charges, but his name came up during Garcia's background check, and we can’t afford to overlook him when time is running out. He’s a potential link to the victims that needs further investigation.”

           “How do we know Branson's not just a demanding coach?” Prentiss interjected, tapping her pen thoughtfully against the table. “That’s pretty common in high-level sports. Coaches often push their athletes hard to achieve success. It could be a case of bad coaching practices rather than anything sinister.”

           Morgan leaned forward. “That may be true, but in high-pressure environments, there’s a fine line between motivation and manipulation. If these athletes felt threatened or coerced, it could indicate a deeper issue. We need to dig into his past and see if there are patterns in his behavior beyond just coaching.”

           “Exactly,” Hotch conceded, his tone measured as he acknowledged Morgan's point. “But we also have a witness who claims she saw someone matching Branson’s description near one of the gymnasiums where one of the other victims trained, just days before she was taken. This isn’t just speculation; it’s a significant lead that connects him to the timeline of these disappearances.”

           Rossi leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed thoughtfully over his chest. The creak of the chair echoed in the quiet room as he contemplated the implications. “Sounds like we need to dig into Branson’s background more thoroughly. We should look for any history of obsession or unusual behavior, particularly any connections to the victims that go beyond just being their coach. If other athletes trained under him, we might uncover more troubling patterns.”

           Reid, flipping through the file in front of him with a sense of urgency, added his insights. “Branson’s control issues could align with the profile. He might see them as a challenge - individuals he needs to break down in order to feel powerful.”

           Morgan nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “And if that’s the case, we need to act fast. He’s likely not going to stop with just these three victims. If we don’t catch him soon, another woman could easily go missing. We have to get ahead of him before he strikes again.” The urgency in his voice emphasized the gravity of the situation, rallying the team’s focus on the task ahead.

           Hotch's expression darkened as the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders. “The field office has already questioned Branson, but we need to go in and talk to him ourselves. It’s crucial that we either rule him out as a suspect or dig deeper into his background. Morgan, Rossi and I will be heading to the rink as soon as possible to speak with him and gather more information.”

           Reid, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned his notes, “Do we know if Leah’s body has been found yet?” The question hung in the air, filled with apprehension.

           Hotch shook his head grimly. “No. Leah Connors has not been missing long enough according to the M.O. Every moment that passes decreases our chances of finding her alive. The longer she’s gone, the more likely it is that we won’t recover her.” His voice carried the weight of his experience and understanding of what this case demanded.

           Prentiss glanced at the photos on the board, her expression tightening as the faces of the victims stared back at her. “If Branson’s involved, he might already be planning his next move,” she noted, her voice steady yet tinged with concern.

           As the team began to gather their things, the air was thick with determination. Morgan turned to Hotch, a serious look in his eyes. “You think Branson’s our guy?”

           Hotch paused, his expression contemplative as he narrowed his eyes slightly, weighing the implications. “I don’t know yet. But I want to be sure before we move on. We need every lead we can get. If he’s involved, we need to find out how deep it goes. If he’s innocent, we’ll need to look elsewhere, but either way, we can’t afford to waste time.”

           Morgan nodded in agreement. “Then let’s go see what this guy’s all about.” His words carried a reminder of the stakes involved in their investigation.

           The ice rink was surprisingly serene, a stark contrast to the storm brewing outside. The sound of blades gliding across the frozen surface echoed through the empty arena, creating a delicate rhythm that filled the vast, and chilly space. The agents stepped onto the concrete floor, their breath visible in the crisp air as they scanned their surroundings.

           Hotch walked ahead, his expression unreadable, exuding an air of focus. "Morgan, with me," he said, his voice cutting through the faint melody playing over the rink’s speakers. The soft notes mingled with the sound of skates on ice, creating an almost haunting atmosphere. "Dave, see if you can find the rink manager. We need details on Branson’s schedule, especially who he coached the past couple of weeks and any unusual behavior." The agents dispersed.

           As Hotch moved forward, his gaze lingered on the ice for a moment longer than necessary. There, moving with effortless grace, was a woman - you - performing a series of elegant spins and leaps, perfectly synchronized with the music that filled the space. Your concentration was palpable, every movement executed with the kind of precision that only years of practice could cultivate. You were completely immersed in your art, blissfully unaware of the agents and the investigation unfolding around you.

           Hotch watched as you landed another jump, the smallest hint of admiration creeping into his thoughts. It wasn’t just your skill - it was the focus, the sheer dedication reflected in your every move. Something about your determination resonated with him, a reminder of the relentless pursuit of excellence he had valued in his own work throughout his career. Yet, he quickly pulled his attention back to the case, mentally chiding himself for allowing a moment of distraction.

           "Agent Hotchner?" A voice broke through Hotch's concentration, pulling him back to the present. Branson had appeared at the rink’s edge, wiping his hands on a towel as he approached the team. He was older, in his mid-fifties, with a stocky build. His gruff demeanor was punctuated by a furrowed brow, a clear indication that he was not accustomed to or happy about being questioned.

           "Mr. Branson," Hotch greeted, extending his hand firmly. "We need to ask you a few questions regarding our current investigation." His tone was professional but carried an undertone of authority that left no room for misunderstanding or protests.

           The questioning commenced in typical BAU fashion - focused and direct. Hotch and Morgan exchanged glances, silently communicating their strategy as they probed Branson about his whereabouts during the timeline of the abductions. They inquired about his relationships with his skaters and whether he had any connections to the victims. Branson’s posture stiffened slightly at the mention of the girls, but he maintained eye contact, giving his responses with a defensive steadiness. "I don’t know anything about these girls," he insisted, his voice edged with frustration. "My only concern is my athletes and getting them ready for competitions. I have no interest in anything else. Leah's disappearance doesn't bother me as long as I have her" Branson nodded toward you on the ice.

           Hotch studied him closely, noting the slight tremor in Branson's hands as he spoke and the way his gaze flickered when he mentioned the victims. While his answers didn’t raise immediate red flags, there was still an unsettling quality about his proximity to the victims that couldn’t be ignored. Throughout the years the team had learned that the most dangerous unsubs often blended seamlessly into the backgrounds of their targets, and Branson's defensive stance only heightened Hotch's suspicions. As the conversation progressed, Hotch sensed that there was more to Branson's story, a deeper layer lurking beneath the surface that demanded further investigation when time allowed it.

           "He's clean," Rossi murmured, pulling Hotch aside as he returned from questioning the rink manager. "Alibis line up. I don’t think he’s our unsub."

           Hotch gave a brief nod, though his gaze remained locked on Branson, who was still speaking with Morgan near the rink’s edge. There was no immediate threat, no telltale sign of guilt, but something about the coach kept Hotch’s instincts on alert. "Still," he replied, voice low, "we’ll keep him on the list until we can be sure."

           Branson had the right alibis and nothing overtly suspicious in his behavior, yet Hotch knew better than to dismiss him entirely. People like Branson, who operated in tight-knit athletic communities, often hid things beneath the surface - control issues, power dynamics, unresolved anger. There was always the possibility that something darker lurked just out of sight.

           As the conversation wrapped up and the team prepared to leave, you finally noticed the group of agents lingering near the rink’s entrance as the last notes of your setlist faded. You had been completely absorbed in your routine, unaware of their watchful eyes until now. Slowing your pace, you glided to a stop, chest heaving with exertion but keeping your expression calm and composed. It wasn’t every day a team of federal agents appeared at one of your training sessions.

           "Is everything alright?" you asked cautiously, stepping off the ice and reaching for your jacket draped over the railing. Your eyes flickered briefly to Hotch, catching his gaze just long enough to feel the intensity behind it.

           "We’re investigating a case that might be connected to someone at this facility," Hotch replied in his usual clipped tone, offering no more information than necessary.

           You nodded slowly, glancing toward your coach, who was still speaking with Morgan. Branson’s stern face gave nothing away, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And something about Hotch’s posture - the way he stood with such composed authority, never fully relaxed - made you uneasy. It was clear that, even though your coach had been cleared, the FBI’s interest in this place wasn’t over yet.

           "Should I be worried?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light, but the tension in your voice betrayed your real concern. There was a part of you that couldn’t help but feel that this investigation, whatever it was, might touch your life more directly than you’d like.

           Hotch's gaze softened just enough to feel reassuring. "We don’t believe you’re in any immediate danger miss," he said, his eyes meeting yours with a steady intensity. "But it’s best to stay cautious. If you notice anything unusual - anything at all - don’t hesitate to contact us." Hotch handed you his business card, something so natural to him, but reassuring to you.

           As you pulled on your jacket and gathered your things, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see Agent Hotchner.

           The BAU's visit to the rink had been brief, but the weight of it hung heavy over the team as they regrouped in the conference room. The table was littered with new notes, files, and evidence photos, each one a potential piece to the puzzle that still remained frustratingly incomplete. As the team settled in, their usual energy subdued, Hotch found his thoughts drifting, his focus momentarily splintered in a way that felt unfamiliar.

           It wasn’t like him to let his mind wander. Normally, he was able to compartmentalize everything - his thoughts, his emotions - keeping them all in neat, orderly boxes. Yet today, something lingered in the back of his mind, something that pulled him away from the stacks of files and images before him. It wasn’t just the case that weighed on him; it was you - the way you moved with an intensity and purpose, the way you'd looked so innocent, so angelic while practicing your routine on the ice.

           It wasn’t just your grace on the ice, though that was undeniably striking. It was something more intrinsic, something about the way you carried yourself as if you had spent your entire life fighting through obstacles - physical, mental, emotional even. He saw it in your posture, the way you pushed yourself through the routine despite exhaustion, your expression tight with focus and determination. It reminded him of the same relentless drive that kept him going on the job, the way he forced himself to be stronger, to endure, no matter the pain and personal cost.

           As he sat at the head of the table, files splayed open in front of him, Hotch couldn’t shake the image of you mid-leap, suspended in the air for what felt like a heartbeat. He could still recall the sound of the blades of your skates hitting the ice as you landed. Your face had been a mask of concentration, and in that brief moment, he recognized something deeply familiar. The discipline, the perseverance, the quiet strength - it was as if he had seen a reflection of himself. And though he couldn’t quite place why, an odd sense of admiration crept into his thoughts, catching him off guard.

           “Hotch?” Morgan's voice cut through his trance, pulling him sharply back to the room.

           Hotch blinked, momentarily disoriented, before clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his chair. "Yeah," he said, his voice firm, though there was a slight edge to it, betraying the brief lapse in his usual composure. "What’s our next step?"

           Morgan didn’t press Hotch further. "Garcia’s doing a deep dive into Branson’s finances and personal life," Morgan explained. "So far, nothing out of the ordinary, but we’re still waiting on some records. She’s combing through everything - credit reports, phone records, anything that could give us a lead."

           Hotch nodded, but even as he listened to Morgan’s update, part of his mind still lingered at that rink. There was something about this investigation that felt different. Something that, for better or worse, had struck a chord in him.

           “What about his connections?" Prentiss asked, her voice laced with curiosity. "Any personal relationships with the victims beyond coaching?”

           “None that we’ve uncovered so far," Rossi replied, "but there’s definitely a pattern forming. Even if Branson doesn’t have direct ties to these women, all of them were deeply involved in their athletic circles right before they vanished. It’s possible the unsub may be targeting these communities, using them as a hunting ground.”

           Hotch nodded in agreement as he sifted through the case files in front of him, his eyes scanning each piece of information carefully, dotting down a few scribbled notes along the way. “We need to broaden our investigation,” he said, flipping another page. "If Branson isn’t directly involved, then we could be looking at someone who’s still connected to these places. Maybe a spectator, a sponsor - someone who blends in at these events but stays under the radar.”

           The conversation moved forward, focusing on logistics and the next steps, but Hotch’s mind wandered back to the rink, back to you.

           But he couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

           Back at the rink, the air felt sharper than usual as you replayed the events of the day in your mind. The presence of the FBI had been jarring, a reminder that the world beyond the rink was far from safe. Your coach had barely contained his frustration during the questioning, his agitation palpable even after the agents left. It wasn’t every day that a federal investigation collided with your life so directly, and it certainly wasn’t every day that you crossed paths with someone like Aaron Hotchner.

           His presence had been impossible to ignore, though it wasn’t in the way most people might expect. Hotch’s quiet intensity was unsettling, but not in a bad way - it was just that he carried himself with such calm authority, that it demanded attention. You couldn’t shake the feeling that his gaze had lingered on you during practice, though it never felt intrusive. If anything, it felt like he was studying you, but not in a way that made you uncomfortable.

           As you completed another lap around the rink after your break, the sound of your blades slicing through the ice should have calmed you. Usually, the rhythm of skating helped clear your mind, the repetitive movements allowing you to focus. But today was different. The weight of the investigation, the fact that Leah seemed to have disappeared completely from the roster, and the FBI’s looming presence throughout the rink made it hard to concentrate. You couldn’t help but wonder if the investigation would interfere with your training in any way - if the agents would come back and disrupt your routine again.

           Leah’s absence weighed heavily on your heart. She wasn’t just a fellow skater; she’d been your friend. You usually spoke at least once a day, but her sudden disappearance from your life had left a deep void, not only in your small circle but in the rink itself. Everyone was on edge, whispering about what had happened, if it had anything to do with the other athletes having gone missing, who would be next - as if skating wasn’t dangerous enough already. You shivered at the thought.

           Your thoughts were interrupted by Branson’s gruff voice calling out to you from the edge of the rink. “Hey," he said, breaking through the fog in your mind as you slowed to a stop near the boards. "You alright?"

           You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure if that was the truth. "Just thinking about Leah," you replied, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as you caught your breath. "Do you think... someone took her?"

           Branson’s usual stern expression softened, but there was still tension in his posture as if the whole ordeal had him on edge too. He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face before replying, “I don’t know, kid. But the FBI’s involved now. They don’t mess around. If anyone’s going to find her, it’ll be them. You just focus on your routine. Nationals are in a few weeks, and we need you at your best.”

           You nodded, though the reassurance did little to ease the gnawing unease in your chest. Leah’s fate hung in the air like a storm cloud, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on skating, the uncertainty remained, creeping into your thoughts with every glide. As you turned to skate away, you couldn’t help but glance at the spot where Agent Hotchner had stood earlier, wondering if you’d see him again - and if this nightmare would be over soon.

           Later that evening, Hotch sat in his dimly lit office, the soft amber glow of his desk lamp casting shadows across the stack of files and reports spread before him. The weight of the case pressed heavily on his shoulders, but his focus kept slipping, drawn back to the rink. To the investigation. And, much to his frustration, to you.

           He stared blankly at the notes scattered in front of him, but the words blurred together, failing to hold his attention. It wasn’t typical for him - he was known for his ability to set aside distractions and zero in on the task at hand. But something about today was different. He couldn’t shake the memory of watching you on the ice, the effortless way you moved. There had been such precision in your performance, every movement executed with an intensity and control that mirrored the way he approached his work. It stirred something in him, a recognition of sorts.

           It wasn’t attraction - not in the usual sense, anyway. It was more of an understanding.

           But this wasn’t about him, and it certainly wasn’t about you. Hotch closed his eyes briefly, exhaling deeply as he tried to push the distractions aside. Leah Connors was still missing, and every minute that passed made it less likely she'd be alive when they found her. This case was about her, about finding the truth before it was too late. Not you.

           With a tired sigh, Hotch closed the file in front of him and leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under the shift in weight. Tomorrow, they’d return to the rink. Tomorrow, they’d dig deeper, unraveling the web that surrounded Leah and perhaps Mark Branson. They were running out of time, but Hotch was determined to get closer to the truth.

           Still, as he sat there in the quiet solitude of his office, he couldn’t help but wonder why you kept lingering in his thoughts. What was it about you that had struck such a chord? Was it the way you reminded him of the person he used to be before the job consumed him? Or was it something else entirely? He shook his head, trying to push the thought away. Tomorrow, he told himself.

           Tomorrow, he’d figure it out.

Tag list: @love4lando @therealbaberuthless @crazyunsexycool @pear-1206 @bookworm124

[sequoiaisstrange]

Ice Skater!Art finding out why you haven't been around as much

All the binding you and Art did went right out the window when you turned eighteen, went to college, and got a boyfriend.

You and Art had decided that it was best that you guys went to the same college so you could still skate together, but little did you know that was the worst decision Art could have made.

First things, we're doing great for the two of you. You guys would walk with eachother to classes and even meet up for lunch every day. But slowly, you started to drift away, more like not asking art to meet you for lunch. Still, Art just thought it was because you were so overwhelmed with classes that you were busy studying, and then you had some of your classes switched without telling Art beforehand, and he had to find out after you when he didn't show up to your usual meeting spot.

He gave you the benefit of the doubt and chopped it up to you being late and not ditching him, but he was wrong, and when he found out, it broke his heart.

One day, after you flaked on Art yet again, he decided to walk a different way to lunch for a change of scenery, but then he saw you sitting on the grass with food in your hand and with a guy who was facing away from Art so he couldn't see his face and the both of you were laughing.

At first, Art thought his mind was playing tricks on him, like he was confusing you with another girl who looked like you, but it wasn't.

Was this what you've been doing when you tell art you are busy and can't hang? Did you ditch him, your best friend, for a guy?

Just when Art thought it couldn't be any worse, it did. The guy had turned around for a second to grab something from his bag, giving Art a good view of his face.

It was Patrick, the boy who has had a thing for you since you were young teens. Had you been talking to him behind Arts's back this whole time? Why didn't you tell him? This was now personal to Art, and he had to know why you would do this.

Sorry for the lack of post but my request are still open for my ice skater au’s as always

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart Masterpost

⛸️ Summary: You and Mingi have been at each other's neck for the past year. The latter finds big enjoyment in spurring you on while you just want to make it to graduating without being charged with murder. Things take an interesting turn when your crush and fellow figure skater shows interest in you resulting in a fistfight, two love confessions and multiple heartbreaks.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst, fluff, smut

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, alcohol consumption, chaotic friendship, a lot of side characters, party scenes, arguments, mature content, more tags are to come with each chapter so read those carefully!

⛸️ Current wordcount: 58.2K

⛸️ Author's note: Ignore the fact that this was supposed to be an oneshot and not a mini-series. Anyhow, I'm really proud of this work as it is something I've been writing for a really long time (since October 2023) but I'm also very nervous to share it with you guys, so if you like (or dislike) it, please, do tell me! The parts are all around 13-16K words, except for the finale, which I still haven't started writing 😭

I also want to say a big thank you to @/zchnlswrld for beta reading and giving me love and encouragement through the journey! You’re very much appreciated 🩷

AO3 Masterlist Moodboard Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is not for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights, and adult language. Minors, please refrain from reading or interacting with this work!!!

01 — I'm Just Dreaming of Tearing You Apart

02 — The Autumn Within Me Is Grieving

03 — You Know You’re on My Mind

04 — Know It’s for the Better

05 — Be Still My Foolish Heart (TBD)

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed

[kozumesphone]

okay i raise you: HOCKEY player percy/jason and figure skater reader

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

JASON GRACE ⭑.ᐟ

⟢ “they took away the prophet’s dream; for a profit on the street!”

headcannons for: hockey player!jason x figure skater!reader

jason grace who always tucks away the bracelet you made him in the safety of his bag so it won’t break when he plays his games

jason grace who loves hearing your voice screaming out his name during his games

jason grace who says ‘this next one is for my baby’ to the camera, meaning it for you, before scoring a goal

jason grace who’s protective of you, and saunters in whenever he sees some guy trying to flirt with you

jason grace who always supports his girl during her competitions

jason grace who throws down her favourite plushies at the end of her performance

jason grace who cheers your name before and after your program

jason grace who is your very own personal hypeman

jason grace who has a game the same day as your competition; you had a hard time convincing him not to skip his game just to watch yours

jason grace who peppers you with kisses and whispers sweet nothings into your ear as you cuddle after a rough comp/game

jason grace who you go out to the library with, for study dates and just to browse

jason grace who reenacts book scenes with you to see you blush (he finds it so cute)

jason grace who is absolutely whipped for you <3

taglist for event — @serendipitous-girl @mqstermindswift @puffoz @skeelly @urmomabby

@sunnitheapollokid @jgracie @canonfeminine @cinemaconrad @mqshido

@flowers-for-em @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @cherigall @percabethluvr

@pjoverseluvr @maybxlle @sweetnnaivete @riordanness @starlitszn

@metyouattherighttime @a-beautiful-fool @sequinsnstars @ssparksflyy @fayvpor

@iheartgirlzn @nomournersnofunerals @over-the-ocean-call @seaglass-and-string @cer3lia

@lara20aral @bloophasarrived @xoxochb @auroraofthesun1 @sophiesonlinediary

@solangelotus @brodieland @s1utlvr @imasimpdealwithit @waitingonher

@nqds @skyrigel @daydream-of-a-wallflower @hermidastouch @catastrxblues

@moon-drop18 @d4rkdi0rrr @hopelesslyromantic-shark @saltwatergirl6 @hope92100

event masterlist

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[ssparksflyy]

HE WAS A SKATER BOY ౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚

skater!percy x ice skater!reader ☆

━ SHE SAID SEE YOU LATER, BOY

[ellieswifie]

︿︿ ੈ[ ⛸️ ] ༉‧₊˚✧

icebreaker | matt sturniolo

♪ reflections — the neighborhood

summary: after an amazing ice skating performance your entire body breaks down and you start having a panic attack. but your boyfriend is right by your side...

warnings: boyfriend!matt x ice-skater!reader, angst, panic attack (reader), profanity, fluff towards the end, one sweet kiss, slightly rushed

authors note: fun fact, this was actually based on a dream i had a few weeks back. i have this weird thing where if i have a dream i loved and or cared about, i write what i can remember in my notes... it's not healthy but i have no regrets.

˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊•

THE APPLAUSE WAS LOUD. your shaking hands held high in the air as you finished you beautiful ice skating piece you had been working on for months. the crowd screamed and whistled for several seconds as the judges rises for a standing ovation.

but your eyes stared high at the ceiling, having the gut-wrenching feeling that your performance was terrible. your legs weren’t strong, your posture was lazy, and your turns were absolutely shit. you let your hands drop to your sides, as the crowd's loud whistling fades out your mind. you gracefully leave the ice rink, receiving looks from other opponents and trainers.

your body felt shaking and weak as you walked to find your bench along the line of the audience, but your mind couldn’t focus, your thoughts weren’t processing. you looked weak, your performance was weak. negative thoughts crowded your head, and everything just felt foggy and fuzzy.

but when your eyes slowly faded back to focus, your coach reached over hugging you in her arms. she had whispered sweet nothings as you found yourself just clinging onto her.

she quickly pulled away when large hands found your waist, pulling you off the ground and into their arms. you immediately recognized the warmth of the larger figure. matt sturniolo.

your amazing boyfriend since high school. you weren't too surprised he showed up to support you. you've been through thick and thin with him and filming youtube. you both were so supportive of each other it was incredible how far you guys had come.

having his warm sent crowd your head had made your anxious feelings only go away for a second. your mind was filled back with the negative voices in your head when your boyfriend placed you back on your feet.

"you were fucking amazing!" nicks voice echoed behind matt. you tried smiling at your boyfriend's brothers coming over to give you their quick hugs, but your entire body just felt numb, lifeless. matt hadn’t noticed how you weren’t processing anything at first. he was smiling between you and the scoreboard waiting as judges proceeded to put in your score.

chris had reached between matt, pressing a large video camera in your face. you quickly flinch having your hands fall from your control. "guys, y/n is a fucking beast!" chris claimed, holding the camera. naturally, you weren't too fazed with a camera in your face. you and matt's relationship wasn't public, but many people knew and enjoyed you on the sturniolo's channel.

but having the camera so close to your face at this moment made you quickly panic. and matt was quick to notice. he watched as your face was full of fright, and how your hands were shaking uncontrollably. you weren't even sure why you felt so shaking and in panic but you matt's eyes glazed you entire face catching your frighten look.

"chris get the camera out of her face." matt said trying to maneuver himself in front if you, but chris stood confused. "what?" he muttered, lowering the camera slightly, but staying in his spot between his brother and you.

"get the camera out of her face." matt nearly shoved his brother out of his way as he moved to hold your shoulders. your eyes shifted, becoming watering from the thick air. your hands shook to rise to hold matt’s, but your entire body felt out of control.

"breathe, breathe," he whispered, easing his face closer to yours. but you couldn’t breathe, you felt like your entire body was drowning in your sweat, and disappointment, you felt weak and vulnerable.

your eyes glanced around you receiving several looks from the girls who had performed before you. you could just hear their thoughts. what is wrong with her? she can't even skate? she looks horrible.

you were quickly brought back to reality when matthew quickly rushed you towards the bench nearly by, placing you down first, then letting himself kneel in front of you. your breaths were heavy as you tried carrying words out of your mouth, but matt’s hand on your chest stopped you. it was comforting knowing you weren’t alone, but your entire mind said you would always be alone.

you shook your head, trying to cancel the horrible thoughts when matt pulled your face into his neck. "it’s okay, i’m here." you tried listening, but you just couldn’t. your breaths got heavier, your hands shook fast, you weren’t in control of your own body and it frightened you.

it frightened matt and his brothers, mostly matt. he wanted to help, he has suffered from these panic attacks in the past. it's terrifying and knowing how scared you are is breaking him. "just focus on my breathing, what do you hear?"

you pause nudging your head into his neck. hearing his slow breaths, sweet nothings, the echoed clapping from the stands. you place your shaky hands in his and he holds them. tight. he's assuring you while you try finding words- anything.

"i-i hear you..." you choke out. tears fall down your face falling onto matts bear skin. his entire body shivers causing you to lean off him to face his face. you needed to see him. "i hear you."

"because i'm right here." he raises your interlocked hands and kisses the back of your hand. "your not alone. i'm here- nick, chris..." your eyes dart to your coach who is carrying a gatorade water bottle and a hoodie. the hoodie belonged to matt. you borrowed it a while back but refused to give it back.

you can't hear anything anymore, you only hear matt and the sweet assuring words he's saying as he rubs circles on your hand. it's like your entire body clicked back into focus when you feel your breathing pick back up and your negative thoughts blow away.

matt's head looks back at you and a small smile plays on his lips. it's a small gentle smile. one that kills you every single time you look at him. "you okay?" he asks softly, unlocking your hands so he can rub your jaw softly.

you feel embarrassed.

you completely panicked in front of everybody. you cover your face in matt's chest hiding the way your cheeks quickly turn red. "i'm sorry..." you muttered.

matt rubs shapes around your exposed skin on your back. "about what?" "acting out in front of all these people." you whispered into his chest.

"don't feel sorry it's not your fault." you lean off his chest and look at him and he's still smiling. "you were amazing."

you want to cringe at how adorable he is, but you know you guys are just like that. you guys enjoy complementing each other and looking at each other for hours. "you are amazing." you poke your hand at his chest, hiding your blush "thank you for helping me..."

"no fucking way!" you hear chris shout from behind matt. you both turn your head to look at chris and nick jumping up and down like children. "what?" you inquire, drawing your eyebrows together. "you got a perfect score! you're in first place!" nick shouted, pointing up at the large scoreboard.

you eyes go wide at the screen. he wasn't wrong. it was right in front of your face, a perfect ten large in red letters. you couldn't believe it.

you look at your boyfriend smiling wide as you gives you that look. the you're amazing, you're incredible, i love you more than anything look. his head tilts to the side and you can't help but laugh at his happiness.

"see..." he drags out, leaning into you slightly. "you're amazing." you both are giggling at each other before he draws you close and places a soft kiss on your lips.

[strawwiibernyy]

Can you write something related to an ice skating date with hoonie?

Love on the Ice - Park S.

[Figure Skater!Sunghoon x Reader]

warnings! absolutely nothing :)

words: 400

╰┈➤ In which Sunghoon takes you out on an ice skating date. Fluff, fluff, fluff!

____________________

"Hoon, wait for me!" You shouted, trying to step on the ice rink. The last time you went ice skating was in middle school. After so many years, you didn't even remember how to stand properly.

Your skates slipped against the ice, and your hands grabbed the metallic handles. On the other hand, Sunghoon was skating around the rink with grace. You knew things would end up like this when you suggested the date to your figure skater boyfriend.

"You are too slow!" He shouted back, an attractive smirk playing on his lips. Your eyes rolled at his comment, still trying to adjust on the ice.

"Come and help me now!" You yelled again, gaze locked on your ice skates. They slipped back and forth, but they couldn't carry you along. Your upper body was stuck on the board, while your legs had fallen on their own behind.

Sunghoon laughed at your ridiculous state, and you shot him a glare. When he realized that you wouldn't move from the boards unless he comes to pick you up, he began skating towards you.

"Here." He said, stretching out his hand. Your fingers interlocked with his, and a smile reached your lips.

"Oh, what a gentleman." His hand was very warm compared to your cold one. The effect his touch has on you is something you will never admit. By your hand, he pulled you close to his body.

Things were getting harder for you. That deep red shade he always caused you went to quickly overtake your cheeks.

"I thought you would at least know the basics. You know, since you suggested this." His words went through your ears unheard. The only thing accompanying your mind was how his hands wrapped around your figure.

You lowered your head to look at the floor. What should you say? That the reason you suggested it was because you wanted to see your boyfriend dancing on ice?

"I know them. I just need some time to get used to it again." You lied, not daring to make eye contact with him. Sunghoon giggled at your very obvious lie.

Well, if you didn't confess, he would make you to do it.

So he started skating away from you. "Sunghoon, where are you going-"

"If you skate till here on your own." He cut you off, stopping across the ice rink from where you and he were before.

"I will give you a kiss."

____________________

A/N: Sorry if it's too short, but I thought making it a drabble would be better. Anyway, thanks for your request!

© all rights reserved to me — i do not allow anyone to copy, translate, or repost my works. all my stories are purerly fictional.

[d3adlyromb3ar]

'. ݁₊ ⊹ cold lips, cold heart — one

— pairing. hockey player!choso x ice skater!fem!reader

— synopsis. you were one of the most graceful skaters to ever skate in your local arena, competing at a young age— racking up trophies and medals as the years passed. after an accident at your last competition, you find yourself afraid to skate again. your coach decides to ask one of your local hockey team players for help, desperate to get you back on the ice. but out of all the players your coach could’ve picked, it had to be him.

— word count. 3.5k

— contents. enemies to friends (eventual), friends to lovers (eventual), angst, trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, language

— notes. i think hockey players are hot & choso is extremely hot, so put those together and life just feels perfect 🤤 thank you @saradika for the dividers 🤍

main masterlist

How does one find themself in this situation, one so backwards. One so disorienting you wonder if this is merely a dream or the harsh reality. It couldn’t possibly be a moment in your life that needed to happen. You outright refused to believe that this was happening for a reason.

Between the battlegrounds you call your life and the way you were losing your mental strength as every day passed— the ice was the last place you clung to. It was the only place where you could be free. Free of the pain, the agony— of it all.

As you feel the cameras flashing, the blurred outlines of faces and silhouettes crowding you— you realize that you life was about to change. The pit in your stomach only grew in size at the possibility that you may never skate again. What was once a place you could call home, could now just be remembered as a sheet of ice.

Your eyes remained unfocused, staring blankly at your legs covered by a sheet, being wheeled into the back of an ambulance. Voices could be heard from either side of you, although they were unclear. It sounded almost as if they were speaking underwater— you weren’t listening.

It became too much for your eyes to stay open, and you begin to drift off. If only you knew how much your life was about to change.

“Here you go,” You handed the man his extra large coffee with two sugars and two creams. Just like every day. “Enjoy!”

“Thanks darling.” The man sent her a smile, heading outside to his usual spot, in the shade, just a hair out of the sunlight.

You smiled as he walked away. He was such a kind old man, face so gentle— and wrinkly. Still, he was sweet.

“What bullshit!” Your friend Maki hissed, face stuffed in her phone, “They keep making these damn tickets more expensive. Fucking fuckers.”

You slapped a hand to your mouth, trying your hardest not to giggle at her frustrated state.

“C’mon, you don’t really wanna go to a hockey game that bad, do you?”

“Hell no.” She hissed.

“Right, right. You just wanna try and get some big hunky hockey player dick.”

Maki had a proud expression on her face.

“That’s right— and I’m not ashamed.”

You shook your head, letting the giggle escape this time.

“You’re utterly ridiculous.”

“And youuu need to get some hockey dick too. Or just dick period.”

You rolled your eyes, very aware of your dry spell that has been going on for… well. Awhile.

“I am doing just fine actually, thank you very much.”

Maki leaned forward, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She was giving you her best really look.

“Honey, I’m all for this independent female attitude you got going on but, let’s be real. You need to be dicked down.”

You made a disgusted face, embarrassed that she was talking so loudly when there were costumers around.

“You might feel a little less stressed once you do,” She told you, “Find some super good dick and all your issues might just vanish.”

“Yeah, wish that was the case.” You were at a whisper by the end, glancing down to the scars that started below your knee and disappeared underneath your shorts.

Maki noticed your stare, her gaze softening.

“Listen, it might be good for you to at least meet someone, y’know? You need to stop moping around and go do something— live a little!”

You pouted, crossing your arms.

“I’m not moping around.”

Maki gave you another look.

“Babe, you’re the epitome of moping around.”

You acted hurt, holding a hand over your heart.

“Damn Maki.”

“I’m serious (Y/n).”

You waved her off, brushing all your joking to the side. Plus, you were only using humor to hide how you were truly feeling— defeated.

“I know, I know.”

“I just wanna see you happy, that’s all. You deserve that after everything you’ve been through.” She told you sweetly.

“I am happy Maki. Life at the coffee shop couldn’t be better.” You tried to convince her. Hell, you couldn’t even convince yourself.

“You need a life outside of work, and one that makes you happy.” She corrected.

You walked past her, nudging her shoulder playfully as you passed.

“On it boss!” You said lastly as you headed for the back. Your shift was ending soon.

You clocked out of work, setting your apron in your work locker before heading towards the bus stop. You had a plan to go home and binge some cringey tv show while stuffing your face with junk food. Yeah, that sounds wonderfu—

“(Y/n)!”

Scratch that.

You turned to see your old coach walking towards you, huge smile on her mature face.

“Hey there Ms. Utahime. What brings you here?”

She furrowed her brows, stopping when she was in front of you. Her look was one that made you wonder if you should know why she was here.

“One, can’t I just come see my favorite person in the world,” She definitely wanted something, “And two, I’m wondering why you aren’t back on the ice?” Yup, there it is.

“I told you coach, I’m not going to be starting up again. Already returned my skates and all my uniforms.”

“Nope. Just had everything returned to your place.”

You gave her a wild look.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re going to be back on the ice soon.”

You sighed, leaning on your left leg to give your right a break.

“Coach, I’m not skating anymore. I’m sorry, I’m just not.” You started, pleading almost with her, “That chapter of my life is completed.”

She gave you a motherly look. Oh god.

“(Y/n) that chapter of your life was just beginning. You were doing so well and I couldn’t have been prouder of you.” You felt a but coming. “But,” Yup. “You aren’t done with what you’ve started, I’m sorry, I won’t let you waste your talent.”

“Coach—”

“Nope. I’m not giving you a choice. You’re gonna be back on the ice and train, because I know for a fact it’s been awhile since you’ve skated— no thanks to you.”

“I get it.” You rolled your eyes.

“I have big plans for you (Y/n), and they match up with your big plans.”

“Maybe that used to be my plan. Grow up to be the best skater there ever was, but after my…”

She waited patiently, watching your mouth open like a fish before closing. You had to gather your thoughts.

“After what happened,” You worded differently, “Things have changed. That girl, it isn’t who I am anymore.”

Coach Utahime sighed, giving her a moment to gather herself before letting her hand rest on my shoulder— in attempt to bring me some comfort.

“Will you at least think about it?”

You gazed into her eyes, her hope filled eyes that had you feeling weak and guilty— almost forcing the words out of your mouth. God, how you missed skating, and you’d do anything to get back to where you were. But it wasn’t that easy.

With a deep breath, you found yourself nodding.

“I’ll think about it.”

Her eyes were beaming, a smile taking over her face as she almost started jumping up and down from excitement.

“Great. I’ll see you soon.” She turned and waved goodbye, heading back to wherever she had come from.

Now it was just you standing at the bus stop, head full of chaos. What were you thinking? You couldn’t skate again, could you?

Like a robot following its coding, you walked onto the bus, sitting down in your usual spot all the way in the back— a window seat of course. You let your elbow rest on the arm of the seat, your palm cradling your chin. The view was pretty. In the sense that you got to admire people as the bus passed by. People didn’t realize how interesting they became when they were so oblivious to the watchers of the world, quirks and habits poking out as people became lost in their own little world.

It was a weird thing to appreciate I guess, but it calmed you.

You wondered how you looked to others that happen to watch you. You wondered if they felt sad, or if they felt embarrassment— for how someone could live such a dull life. Especially when life started so colorful, so lively.

Will you at least think about it?

You grumbled into your palm, annoyance at yourself for caving so easily to Utahime. It wasn’t easy to say no to her. She was the best coach you’ve ever had— the only coach that is. She was also not only a constant on the ice, but she was consistent in your personal life as well. It was odd but endearing.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a figure moved from your left. Glancing over, you watched the man sit on the furthest seat from you— except he was in the same row. The very back. Your section.

The man was facing the window, the view not helping you confirm who he was. The second he turned his head, and you were able to get a glance at his stupidly perfect side profile— you wanted to gag.

Choso Kamo.

You went with a scoff instead.

Choso turned his head towards the noise, his eyes unchanging as he saw you. Without smiling your way or offering any kind of greeting— he simply turned back to face forward. Not paying you any attention.

You narrowed your eyes at him, soon facing the window again— allowing yourself to once again sink into the abyss you called your mind.

Choso Kamo. Where to even start with Choso. It was pretty simple. He was a moody, angsty man who praised himself too high at being one of the best hockey players there was. Because that definitely wasn’t right… right? He had this mysterious aura about him, always keeping to himself. Never one to strike a conversation. To make things even better, the only confrontations you have with him were sour. He was always short and rude. It wasn’t that you wanted to dislike him— you just couldn’t stand him.

It also didn’t help that you used to have a crush on him, y’know, before you met him and then realized you hated him sorta thing.

I mean, who wouldn’t have a crush on him? Despite his shit personality, he was insanely attractive. Bone structure sculpted by the gods themselves. It was quite unfair really, to be gifted with such lethal looks— only to be a dick. Oh yeah, it didn’t help that he played hockey too. Apparently, it made a man 10x hotter when they played hockey. I don’t make the rules.

You snuck another glance at him, wondering what he was doing now. Or if he had gotten off the bus while you were daydreaming about hi— I mean thinking. Thinking about him.

You couldn’t help the pink dust your cheeks, seeing as he was already looking your way. In fact, he was holding your gaze with something unspoken. You instinctively placed a hand on your belly, wishing to stop the butterflies.

Again, like you were invisible, he looked away. Gazing out his own window, not paying you any mind. Again.

You chewed the inside of your lip, still unsure why it had to be him that had your gears grinding. He was a dick, yeah that’s it.

“Do you need something?”

The deep voice startled you, snapping you back to reality. A pair of dark eyes were staring at you, his brows furrowed at you as he waited for an answer.

You must’ve been looking at him still while you were lost in your thoughts. Great.

“Uh… no?” You didn’t even know why you were making it sound like a question.

“You were staring at me.”

“You were staring at me first.” You shot back.

His eyes narrowed in on you, silent for a moment as it almost seemed like he was trying to get a read on you. It had you squirming in your seat slightly— his gaze intimidating.

“I didn’t recognize you at first, (Y/n).” He admitted, your name falling off his lips so smoothly. “Was just making sure it was actually you.”

You swallowed, unprepared for that kind of response.

“Surprised you even remember my name.”

He turned his body slightly more facing you.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You narrowed your gaze, starting to pick at the skin around your fingernails. A bad habit.

“You’re making it sound like we used to be close or something.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, just staring at you with confusion— like he didn’t understand you. He didn’t quite understand where your hostility was coming from.

“Were we not?”

You couldn’t possibly think of a way to respond to that, stuck staring at him like he’d just said the most outrageous thing. You felt confusion, shock and most importantly— embarrassment.

Remembering the day all too well, the day of your innocent much younger self building up the courage to express your feelings to a certain person. The same person who was sitting at the back of the bus with you.

You could still remember the utter humiliation of being rooted in your spot as he told you he didn’t feel the same. The sinking feeling in your stomach when he walked away, leaving you all alone to all watching eyes. You could still feel the tightness in your throat at the last glance of his pitied look towards you before he turned away.

Were we not? Choso had asked. The question almost making you laugh maniacally— at how obvious the answer was.

“No.” You told him blankly, “We were never close, I don’t know where you even got the idea that we were.”

He looked at you again for a moment, the only sound of the lulling engine of the bus. He had such a confused expression, and for a second you thought you saw something along the lines of a hurt look. That couldn’t be right.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.”

He turned back to his window, gazing out at the scenery passing by— leaving you to your thoughts again.

You shook your head, noticing that it was your stop coming up. You got up and headed towards the front of the bus, your hand hanging onto the bus railings as you walked along.

“Have a good day ma’am.” The driver had said sweetly.

You gave them a small smile, holding onto the railing tightly as you focused on your steps. Why did the bus stairs have to be to steep? You thought.

Your heel hovered too far ahead of the next step, causing you to slip— your right knee buckling from the previous stair, crumpling under you.

The bus driver gasped, something about asking if you were okay— but all you could focus on was the hot sensation coming from your right leg. You gripped tightly onto the railing, stopping yourself from falling any further. You bit your lip as a weird sensation flourished throughout you, memories of the accident fresh in your mind— the visions almost causing you to physically flinch away.

“Ma’am? Are you okay ma’am?”

You closed your eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath before you stood on shaky legs, your left leg taking most of the weight. You hobbled off the bus, limping pathetically until you reached a bench.

It wasn't completely a reaction from the pain. Yes it hurt, but it were the overwhelming flashbacks that would cripple you momentarily. You just needed to relax on the bench for a couple seconds, you'd be okay after.

"(Y/n)—?" The familiar deep voice startled you, lifting your gaze to see Choso holding out your bag. "You dropped this."

You kept a neutral expression, grabbing your bag back.

"Thanks."

"You okay?" He asks, and you were confused at his genuinely concerned expression.

You tucked your hair behind your ears, taking a deep breath. You felt better now that the uncomfortable feeling passed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You kept your answers short.

Choso didn't believe you.

"You sure?" He pushed.

You narrowed your eyes, studying him— almost like you were trying to figure him out.

"Do you actually care?"

Choso sighed, crossing his arms, still standing in front of you.

"Why would I ask if I didn't care?" He replied, his expression the same as when he'd started talking to you— concerned.

"Why would you even ask? You've never bothered to talk to me before, so why now?" You wondered, this sudden change confusing. He was usually quiet and keeping to himself— certainly not bothered to strike up conversation with you. So why now, was it rude to ask?

"You looked like you were in pain, so I thought I'd make sure you were okay." He explained, his brows furrowed as he was slightly annoyed, "Maybe I don't talk a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm heartless."

"Could've fooled me." You mumbled.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

You scoffed, wondering if you should tell him how your younger feelings were hurt. Your younger self experiencing her first heartbreak. Definitely not.

"I don't hate you... I just would rather not talk with you." You said instead.

"Alright... because?"

"Because I just don't wanna talk with you."

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair— which looked so soft and just gorgeous. No, don't think about that.

"Seems unfair."

You shrugged, leaning back on the bench as you crossed your legs. Taking your time when you set your right leg overtop your left, as it felt a little sore from your tumble.

"Life's unfair." You muttered, hating that you were repeating what you had been told all your life. To be on the other end of it felt weird.

He chuckled. He actually chuckled, the deep vibrating sound floating through the air. You really couldn't ignore how much you loved hearing that sound. Actually, you hated that you loved it.

"Alright, well take care (Y/n). Give your leg some rest, hope you feel better." He said, turning to walk away.

Your cheeks flushed, hating that he had caught you— but how?

"I told you— I'm fine." You tried to convince him.

"I know. You're a terrible liar." And he was incredibly observant.

You bit your lip in annoyance, uncrossing your legs and holding your hands over your right thigh— like you were trying to hide it. Yeah good luck.

You couldn't find it in yourself to respond, too frustrated that he had called you out. A part of you wanted to appreciate that he at least seemed like he really cared— but you also didn't trust that it was genuine. You wanted it to be— that small part of you always having a spot in your heart for him. For some reason.

His steps were swift and relaxed as he walked further away down the sidewalk— to where exactly? No idea. You were almost positive this wasn't even his stop, and that he only got off for you. To give you your bag back you weirdo— yeah thats it.

With everything, like coach pressuring you into skating, your family drama that you'd rather not talk about, Maki's odd obsession with getting me dicked down— and now Choso? I didn't need this and I didn't want it.

So why was your head filled with thoughts about him, and his stupidly handsome face?

Fuck.

Your phone rang in your bag, and you scrambled to get it out with a huff of annoyance. Can't I just be left alone? You thought.

Pulling it out, the caller ID said Coach. With a sigh, you slid to answer.

"Hey Coach." You greeted.

"(Y/n)! Good news—!" Her voice squealed through the phone, making you flinch back from it, "I got someone to help you get back on the ice!"

You face palmed your face, running a hand down as you held in the urge to whine.

"Oh, really?" You ask in fake interest.

"Yup, they will help you get comfortable skating again. I wouldn't have asked this person if I didn't trust them." She informed you.

"Great." You said sarcastically.

"(Y/n), try to sound a little excited— god." She complained, and you rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna send you this person's profile. Maybe you can meet and talk with him, get to know each other before you start training. Y'know, get comfortable with each other."

"Alright fine, but I'm only doing this because I know you'll just force me anyway."

"Very true." She laughed. "I'm sending over the info now, gotta go— text you later!"

She hung up before you could say bye, and you got the expected ding of the text. You clicked on the link to the profile and immediately noticed the logo on the profile— it was a hockey team.

Your eyes skimmed over the profile and widened in disbelief when you read the name listed. You gotta be fucking kidding me...

Choso Kamo.

Well fuck.

— ending notes. thinking about making this a series, but I have so many projects in the works right now, what am I doing to myself lol

[obsessive-valentine]

Yandere!Hockey player x F!Figure skater

A Ice Hockey player takes a interest in the new girl, he’s determined to prove he’s not some lowlife-stereotypical popular kid but rather a man who can protect you and begins to set you up to be in a relationship with him. This ones a pretty subtle yandere.

You recently moved to a new town with your family and being a figure skater you had to not only find a new school but also a new ice rink to practice. Although your school seemed to have a pretty big hockey team that also used this rink so you had to work around them, this meant sometimes leaving school early for these lessons before the school team showed up or coming in late as they were leaving.

Today however you were particularly early leaving you to sit on the bench waiting for the hockey team to pack it in, you distracted yourself with with your phone or a book but you seemed to also be distracting one of the players in particular. He knew you from some of his classes but you never acknowledged each other, mostly because he was apart of the annoyingly loud and popular boys, and he along with his friends know for throwing parties and dating around- they didn’t even bother to pretend to take school seriously it was just a place to hang out and poke fun at people.

You however were comfortable with the small but friendly group you’d been accepted into when you joined the new school, you avoided drama and most parties -preferring to be ice skating or hanging out with your friends. So he was a bit confused why you seemed to be capturing his attention so much, you were quite the opposite of his ex-girlfriends. “What’s wrong with you!? Get your head in the game!” He was snapped back into reality by being told off by his coach, he huffed in response and his eyes darted back to you before joining the game again. You had glanced up to see the commotion and briefly locked eyes with him before going back to what you was doing.

“Someone’s in love” his friend teased coming up behind him only to be shoved back in response “piss off” he grumbled. He kept his eyes on the puck the whole game not trusting himself to look up again, and before he knew it his coach was calling it a day. “Come one let’s go can’t keep buddy’s girlfriend waiting can we now?” his friend once again picking the bear figuratively and literally, it took all his strength to not shove him once again, in fact he didn’t even respond just turned his back and made his way off the rink followed by the team.

He was disappointed in himself, letting a girl come between him and his team until he looked over at you once more as he left for the lockers, you were lacing your skates obviously a bit annoyed at the comments from the boys poking fun at you and him, but damn were you pretty even when you were angry.

You darted out on the ice once the team was gone and made a mental note to come way later so you don’t bump into them again, because god that was awkward. You had the ice to yourself as it was late and you only really trained with your coach on weekends unless you chose to compete, so you stuck your earphones in and went through routines and tricks you’d like to brush up on.

20 minutes had gone by and when you looked up you saw the hockey player standing sheepishly by the shirt wall dividing the rink from the bleachers, you took a earphone out to question him but between you catching your breath and taking it out he had already started to explain “I literally just came in here I swear I’m not a creep... I just wanted to say sorry” he started, you was about to tell him it’s okay so he’d leave but he cut you off again “you’re in my science class right?”

“Yeah and a few others” you sighed to yourself realising it won’t be so easy to get him to leave “oh sorry I don’t really pay attention to much it’s nothing personal. But really they can be asses but they don’t mean harm, maybe I can make it up to you though?” He had a certain charm for such a seemingly tough guy and admittedly very hot, but you didn’t know him aside from the loud jokes he made, him and his friends rough shoving each other into lockers in the hallways, or the rumours of what girl he was hooking up with during a party.

“I don’t know, it fine really we can just leave it at that” you wasn’t sure you wanted to hang around a guy like that, but then again you never saw him pick on people, or continue provoking after a teacher tells him off, he wasn’t as crude as other popular people you’ve come across. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. “Please just umm, do you walk back home? It’s getting dark and I can drive you” he seemed so desperate to make it right, it seemed so out of character especially over something so small.

“I’m gonna be here for another 20 minutes at least, and I’m not getting in your car, I don’t know what you’re like” you said bluntly making hhis eyes widen in realisation “oh right you no that makes sense, okay I get it I’ll get outta your hair but I promise I’ll make it up to you” god did he feel stupid, offering a girl, that he could very well overpower, to join him in his car. ‘Now she probably thinks I’m some lowlife like the rest of them’ he though to himself as he got into his car.

The whole way home he brainstormed some ways to get closer to you, he could pass up this opportunity.

...

“Hey there you are!” Like a relentless puppy he jogged to catch up to you in the hallway “Hi, you’re really hard to find, I mean there is a couple hundred people in this school” you stared at him confused “right um can we maybe hang out for a bit, maybe we can eat lunch together” he could see that you were going to try gently decline “-BECAUSE, I really need your help with” he took a deep breath trying to come up with something “History, yeah history, please it would be a great help”

“fine I guess” you suppose one hour with him can’t go to bad, just let him copy your notes and eat your lunch. However you both spent most of the hour talking, he showed you pictures of his dog thinking it would loosen you up and encouraged you to talk about yourself, eventually you stopped trying to shift the topic back to history and talked to him like he was a friend.

“I’ll see you at the rink?” He smiled back at you, hopefully, he was falling deeper and deeper for you “maybe I will” you blushed a bit packing your bag faster to make it to class. “Good” he said more to himself before leaving.

...

Every now and then he would check the bleachers, hoping to see you, until he did, you gave him a smile as you sat and he waved back, you couldn’t see it under the mask but his smile could very well have reached his ears. He hung back once again, once his team cleared out you joined him on the ice “nice of you to join me, starting to wonder if you would show up at all” he joked.

He spent this time trying to get closer to you once again, he begged you to show him tricks, some he attempted half-assed to get a laugh out of you, then you both raced from one end to the other after some provoking on his part, and after a long talk he asked once again “can I maybe drive you home today?” He hopefully looked to you, you gave it a long thought “I guess so, only if you don’t mind waiting around a while longer for me to actually get some practice in” you gave into him.

He grinned hard “that’s alright with me, I’ll be back in a bit take all the time you need” he took off to the changing room, you trust him more than you did just a few days ago, you talk to him and not so begrudgingly anymore, hell you even entertained him messing around with you for over half an hour. This was significant progress to him.

He rushed to sit back on the bleachers and watch you skate for a bit. He couldn’t stop thinking if this is what it’s like to be so truly in-love, is this what they mean by love at first sight. Every conversation with you made him more sure and sure you were so much more than any of the past girls he’s messed around with even the most serious of relationships would never come close to how he felt with you.

But he’s getting ahead of himself- ‘baby steps’ he had to remind himself, he’s not going to ruin this. He walked you to his car and opened the door for you, this was the start of something. He’s driving you to your house today but soon it will be his house to hang out then hangouts will become sleepovers and sleepovers will become... well he’ll pass that stage when he gets there. For now he’ll treasure the beginning of a long loving life together, he’s sure of it.

[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.

[hoe4hotchner]

Beneath the ice - Masterlist and introduction

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Figure Skater!Reader (fem)

Series word count: 48.5k

Summary: As you train for nationals, your life is turned upside down when several young athletes, including your friend Leah, suddenly go missing and end up dead. The BAU is brought in to investigate, led by unit chief Aaron Hotchner. You're drawn to Hotch as the case unfolds, but when Leah’s body is discovered on the very ice where you train, the danger hits a little too close to home. Now, with a killer on the loose, you're pulled deeper into the chaos, where fear, passion, and the investigation collide in unexpected ways.

Masterlist:

Chapter 1 - First impressions

Chapter 2 - Parallel paths

Chapter 3 - Unsteady footing

Chapter 4 - Echoes of fear

Chapter 5 - Cracks in the ice

Chapter 6 - Fractured trust

Chapter 7 - Breaking point

Chapter 8 - Under pressure

Chapter 9 - Sectionals

Chapter 10 - Cold pursuit

Chapter 11 - The unsub's next move

Chapter 12 - Regionals

Chapter 13 - Rebuilding

Chapter 14 - A perfect ending

Epilogue

[mxqdii]

ima need you to elaborate on the ice skater x chris sturniolo 🙏🏻

back on ice - c.s

you can find a matt version here!

pairings: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: reader gets back on ice after awhile and chris is there to help her through it

warning(s): none!

a/n: hiii everyone! sorry for slow updates, just wanna say i see all of your requests and i'll get to them soon!! love u x

"oh my god this feels so weird" i say with a laugh

me and chris have decided to go ice skating together, well, i'll be ice skating while he's in his hockey attire.

i used to be a professional figure skater but i haven't been on ice in awhile, especially after my last competition

which didn't go very well...

"you got it? or do you need me?" chris asks, still ahold of my hand

"i got it, thanks though" i respond smiling

i glide over the ice, letting that familiar feeling take over me

"see you're a pro!" chris yells and i laugh

"i guess it doesn't take that long to get used to it again" i mumble

"you should do the showcase this winter" he suggests and i feel my body tense

due to my stiffness, i stumble over a bump in the ice but before hitting the ground, chris catches me

his hands are on my waist as i look up at him with a sigh

"i dont know chris.. last competition was-"

"it was great! you did great, its the judges fault not yours" he says and i scoff

"i doubt that" i reply

"listen.. you dont have to but, its just a showcase. if anything goes wrong which i doubt it will, but if anything goes wrong it'll be fine! you'll be fine." he rants and i sigh

"i'll think about it"

"good..!" he says, pausing

"because i kinda already signed you up for it..."

"chris you did what!?"

TAGLIST:

@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor

[sequoiaisstrange]

Bonding with ice skating!art outside of practice

Many platonic ice skating duos don’t spend their free time together because they spend so much time together, but that was the complete opposite for the two of you since you guys got over your “hating” each other phase.

A lot of your time spent together was being lazy, like watching a movie and overeating, because you two were the only other person who wouldn’t tell your couches that you were cheating on your diet.

At first, it wasn’t your guy's choice because you guys were told you needed to bond more, but it became so regular to you guys that you’d show up to each other's houses without making plans because you were already expected.

You guys started out sitting as far away from each other as possible because you spent a lot of time with your bodies very close, fighting and sitting on your phones, probably texting your friends about how much you hate each other. But now you guys sit right next to each other, sometimes touching and not caring what you are watching as long as you get to spend time with each other.

Your guys' other “free time” is probably spent working out together, trying to burn off all the junk food you guys ate the day before. It didn’t require your couch, but it was always better to have someone to work out with so it wasn’t so boring.

And like before, you started with you guys having headphones on the whole time and only talking to each other when you needed a spot, but now you guys pretty much talk the entire time and know each other routines to the point that you don’t even ask for a spot anymore you just automatically do it.

I love that this little cheese au is what is getting me out out my writing rut and I have so many more planed. Also the Patrick one is being started but I'm still trying to figure out the dynamics of it. Also the next part of this au will have angst.