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moonstruckme · 1 month

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Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice.

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later.

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache.

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits.

And waits.

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags.

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm.

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says.

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.”

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it.

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light.

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks.

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.”

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head.

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.”

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.”

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates.

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn.

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself.

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics.

And Remus has found many flaws.

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!”

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes.

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level.

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension.

“Sirius…”

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.”

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.”

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?”

“Okay—”

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—”

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.”

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’.

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light.

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for.

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.”

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly.

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

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avatar-anna · 25 days

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Where It All Began

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

i had this finished hours ago and then tumblr didn't save it and i wanted to throw my phone out a window.

also, i don't write smut so if it's bad say nothing 🫣

When you saw Harry on the other side of your open door, you immediately slammed it shut in his face.

"Oh, come on, princess, don't be like that!"

"Go away!" you groaned loud enough that he could hear through the door.

Harry did not go away. His head thudded against the door instead. You could almost picture his forehead pressed against it, small pout on his lips for not getting his way.

"Are you really going to ignore me? After everything we've been through together?"

No. "Yes. And stop calling me princess!" you said, a little louder this time.

"I know you love it," Harry said. "You had quite a different reaction when I said it last week. A week, princess. How long are you gonna keep me in agony here?"

The night in question was one you'd been trying and failing to forget. It was a slip, a lapse in judgement, something you didn't think about carefully before doing it, and now look at where you were. Harry had been trying to talk to you, both discreetly and not so discreetly ever since, but you'd given him the cold shoulder, for no other reason than if you stayed too long in his presence you might've slipped again.

Hooking up with your mortal enemy was a horrible idea, one you were now paying dearly for.

With a scoff, you said through the door, "Don't act like half the school isn't lined up to sleep with you. Go be with one of them."

It was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from Harry. You didn't judge him for his alleged sexual prowess, but you wanted someone committed to you and only you. If you wanted someone, that is. Between your studies and figure skating, there was no room for relationships of any kind, especially not with arrogant hockey players. Especially not Harry Styles.

"You really want that to be it?" Harry asked, ignoring your comment. "I mean it was great, but a coat closet isn't conducive to showing off my best work. Come on, princess, let me show you some of my best work."

"Maybe I don't want to because it wasn't satisfying enough." Liar. You knew it, and he knew it too.

"The stains on my shirt from you squirting everywhere say otherwise," he said, and your cheeks heated immediately. You could hear the smirk in his voice, the satisfaction in it as he remembered how you came on his fingers. It made your core pulse, but you mentally scolded yourself.

"Nothing to say to that, huh? I thought so," he said. "I can't help it now that I'm hooked, Y/n. I need that everywhere. Can you imagine riding me when you do that? Or sitting on my face? God please sit on my—"

You finally opened the door and yanked Harry inside before slamming it shut again. "Keep your voice down!" you hissed.

If you weren't so annoyed with him, you would've noticed Harry was looking at you with hearts in his eyes, but it would be a long time before you realized he looked at you like that all the time.

But unfortunately, all you saw was his smirk, his dimples set deep in his cheeks as he looked you up and down. "It wouldn't have been a problem if you had just let me in in the first place. It's not my fault you need a physical barrier to keep yourself from throwing yourself at me."

"I—I did not throw myself at you!"

"You did, but that's okay. I liked it."

"You're infuriating!"

"And you're stubborn! And blind!"

"Blind? To what?"

With each word exchanged, Harry backed you up until your back hit your bed. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide. It was either push him away or give in to him.

"Look at me, princess. I want to see those pretty eyes when I say this to you," he said, voice now hushed and gravelly now that he was in your room. You looked up, unable to ignore the command in his tone or the way it turned your insides molten.

"I want you, Y/n. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night. Since—"

"Since?" you asked, curious why he stopped all of a sudden.

"Nevermind. The point is that I want you, and I know you want me. You can't tell me someone else has made you feel as good as I have."

No one had, and it was infuriating. You couldn't deny it, not when he was staring at you so intensely. So you fell back on your tried and true excuse. "I don't have time—"

"You think I have all sorts of free time?" Harry asked. "Both of our schedules are crazy, Y/n. All I'm asking is for you to give it a try."

"Give what a try? Sleeping together?"

Something shifted in Harry's expression, but it was back to his heated gaze before you could process it. "Yeah, princess. You need someone to take your frustrations out on? Take them out on me. Need a break from studying? I'm there. Just need someone to fuck you so hard that you forget how to think properly? Well, you saw what I did with just my fingers."

"So...just hooking up," you confirmed. "No dating."

"No dating," Harry agreed, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, the light touch sending shivers down your spine. "Just sex."

"And no one else can know," you managed to get out before finally giving in. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to kiss him, to tear his clothes off and taste him everywhere. But you had to say this first. "I don't want our friends weighing in or giving us a hard time."

"Might have to be really quiet sometimes, then. Think you can handle it?"

He was so self-assured. It was something that annoyed you to no end, but now made your pulse quicken. You were wet from the gravel in his voice alone, feeling it skitter along your skin and turning your core molten. You wanted him. It was time to stop denying yourself the pleasure he was promising you. But first, you needed to level the playing field a bit.

You kissed him, taking Harry by surprise but he was quick to recover. Shoving your hands in his hair, you threw off the baseball cap that always sat backwards on his head. He groaned against your mouth as you pulled at the roots, the sound going straight between your legs.

Hands were everywhere, and so was Harry's tongue. His mouth was on your neck, your jaw, your collar bones and chest. It was enough of a distraction to slip your hands to his waist, to flick off the button of his jeans and slide them down until they looked on the floor.

Harry stepped out of them with ease, following your lead as you turned until his back was against your bed. His eyes were heavy with lust, widening slightly as you got down on your knees and pulled his briefs down. You caught him in your hand, unable to stop yourself from licking your lips at the sight of him.

His cock was long and hard, the tip and angry shade of red, as if just blowing on it might send him over the edge. You did just that, curious to know the answer. Harry didn't come, but he made a strangled sound that made you smile. Looking up at him innocently, you finally asked him, "Can you?"

"Can I—Fuck. "Can I what, princess?"

You didn't answer right away, satisfied with making him wait. Satisfied with the moans and stuttered breaths and the harsh grip in your hair as you played with him.

Harry's cock was heavy in your mouth, and it took everything in you not to show how much you enjoyed sucking him off. Giving pleasure was something that got you off, but with him it was all dialed up. You could feel your underwear dampen as you took him further down your throat, your eyes watering as you bobbed back and forth.

Before he could hit the back of your throat, Harry's grip on your hair tightened and pulled you off him. Almost embarrassingly, you tried to reach him but he held you back.

"Can I what?" Harry repeated. His cheeks were flushed, and the look in his eyes promised a harsh throat fucking if you complied, so you did.

"Can you handle keeping your voice down too? From what I understand it doesn't seem like you can."

Harry chuckled like he was impressed, which pleased you in a way that it shouldn't have. You wanted to impress him all of a sudden. You wanted to please him.

"I guess we'll see. Get up on the bed."

You hesitated. As much as you wanted him inside you, you wanted him in your mouth more. You weren't finished yet. Or rather, Harry wasn't finished yet.

"What is it?" he asked.

You took him into your mouth again, losing yourself in the weight and feel of him on your tongue despite yourself. It was infuriating how much Harry turned you on despite how annoying he was. Mixed with your penchant for getting off and getting others off, you were a goner.

Harry's moans and the grip on your hair only fueled you. Your panties were nothing but a wet scrap of fabric at this point but you didn't care.

Before you could take him down the back of your throat, Harry pulled you off him again. In the fog of lust, you leaned for him involuntarily but he held you back.

Harry chuckled, his usual smirk not so irritating as it normally was. "A slut and a brat. I didn't know I was getting two for the price of one, but we'll work on that don't worry."

A flash of irritation came to the surface. "You're so—"

"Ah ah ah, let's get back to what you do best, yeah? If you wanna suck cock all day, by all means," Harry said, his voice so condescending you almost didn't want to, but your lust eventually won out.

You couldn't help it. You really did want him in your mouth.

"Fuck, there we go. I knew you couldn't resist for long."

"Shut up, you're ruining this for me."

"Sorry, princess, I'll let you focus. You can tap my thigh if it's too much. I have a feeling you might get carried away. Just had no idea you were such a slut for my cock."

You pinched Harry's leg instead as you worked your mouth further down his length. Hissing, he gripped your hair tight, a small warning to behave.

"What would all our friends say if they knew, huh? Everyone thinks you hate me, but in reality you can't go a whole week without my cock in you. That must really piss you off."

You breathed harshly through your nose, but Harry didn't miss that subtle squeeze of your thighs, proving him right. You could pretend all you wanted, he didn't seem to care one way or another. It probably satisfied him to no end to know that he got under your skin, that the focused, levelheaded good girl you appeared to be was a mere facade.

"You can't stand it, can you? And yet you're probably so fuckin' wet when I talk like this, huh? Dirty girl. My dirty girl. You look like a fucked out mess and you don't even care. I bet you even like it."

Harry pulled you off his cock, a small whimper leaving your swollen, drool covered lips. You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, too far gone to act like this wasn't exactly where you wanted to be.

"You look so cute," Harry cooed, gently wiping spit or precum from the corner of Y/n's mouth. That seemed to snap her out of her trance, and she swatted his hand away, reaching out for his length to finish him off. "Ah ah ah. I think I need to hear it first."

"Hear what?"

"How much you want this. How much you want me."

Y/n narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she sat back on her heels, not saying a single word.

"You can sit there and bruise your knees, princess," Harry said, running a hand over his dick, smiling slightly as he watched her eyes track the movement. "Maybe I'll just come on your face and leave without getting you off. But something tells me you might like that."

Your pussy throbbed at the thought, the little traitor, though you were starting to feel like giving in was easier than resisting, no matter how much Harry might tease you for it after.

"I get off on pleasuring other people, sue me," you snapped, pointedly looking away from Harry and his ministrations.

"True," Harry agreed. "But that's not the whole truth. Come on, Y/n. You know I'll reward you for being a good girl, but if you take too long..."

Swiping his thumb over his tip, Harry leaned his head back and moaned. The veins in his neck bulged as the muscles in his stomach contracted. His whole body was flushed pink. He really was gonna come.

"Fine! Fine," you huffed barely looking in his eyes. "I—I want you."

"You can do better than that," Harry teased, still pumping his shaft lightly. "Touch yourself while you convince me. I want to see what that little pussy will tell me if you can't say it with your words."

Whimpering, you dipped your fingers beneath your panties, gasping as they grazed your clit as they made their way down to your slit. You were soaked, which wasn't news to you, but the sound of two fingers pumping in and out of you with ease told Harry enough.

"Please," you whimpered. "I want to finish you off. I want you, Harry. Please let me suck your cock."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Harry said, grinning almost evilly. "Keep playing with yourself too. But don't fucking come. I told you where I wanted you to squirt and it won't be on the fucking floor."

You moaned as you finally took him into your mouth again. He was close, his hips bucking into you frenetically. You focused on the tip, swirling your tongue over it while your hands took care of the rest. It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You lost yourself in the feel of him on your tongue, in the twinge of pain in your scalp as he kept a tight grip on your hair. You added a third finger to your throbbing pussy, moaning around Harry until it became too much.

"Come. Please come, Harry," you begged. "I'm so close and I—I can feel it."

Then, pulling your hand from your heat, you sucked at his tip, using the slickness of your hand to pump the rest of him before sliding back down his length. You could taste yourself on him, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. Part of you wanted to know what Harry would do if you did come, if you disobeyed, but you figured there would be an opportunity for that. Right now, you wanted him, and you wanted to ride his face as reward for your hard work.

"God you're a fucking dream," Harry moaned, thrusting into your mouth after your little display.

He spilled into your mouth then, his cock twitching as you eagerly swallowed spurt after spurt of his cum. Harry cursed and moaned through it all, gently running a hand through your hair. You didn't want to let up, still in a trance as you tried to milk every possible bit out of him as possible.

"A slut in a good girl's clothes. Who knew," he said, chest rising rapidly as if he just did sprints on the ice.

Raising your brow, you licked your hand clean, keeping eye contact with him until he eventually brought you to your feet. Your legs were wobbly, but Harry steadied you. He kissed you hard, tongue thrusting into your mouth as if he was chasing the taste of your heat on your tongue. "If you wanted to get rid of me, you failed miserably, princess," he murmured onto your lips before hoisting you on your bed. You practically vibrated with anticipation, your pussy aching for his attention. It wouldn't take much to come since you were so close, but you figured your legs would be locked around Harry's head until he was ready to fuck you properly.

When Harry was situated on your bed the way he liked, he motioned for you to come closer. You crawled up the bed, stopping right before his face. His expression was eager as he helped you out of your shirt, his hands kneading your breasts appreciatively and tweaking your nipples until you moaned, moving your hips involuntarily.

"Don't or I swear to God I'm gonna come," you hissed, trying to hold your impending orgasm at bay.

"Hm. Another time then," Harry said. "Don't be gentle, okay? Make a mess out of me. Now move those panties to the side so I can get a good look at you.

It was the last intelligible thing either of you said for a while, you too lost in your own pleasure and Harry smothered in you, his hands guiding your hips and gripping your ass appreciatively. He moaned almost as much as you did, his tongue working over your slit, up to your clit, and down again over and over. You can rather quickly because of everything that happened before, your legs trembling as you tried to move off him. But he held you down, seating you on him once more.

"No."

"Harry, I—"

"No. You're not done coming yet. I need at least two more," he said before sticking two fingers into your hole and latching his lips around your clit.

He pumped at a bruising pace, sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue, driving tears to your eyes from the overstimulation. It was almost painful, but your hips bucked in time with Harry's fingers. And even though you'd never done it before in such quick succession, you could feel a second orgasm barreling through you. The pressure built and built, and all it took was the graze of Harry's teeth against your clit to send you over.

The pleasure was so intense you were pretty sure you blacked out. Harry's fingers didn't let up, curling into you and making you climax for the third time before you even finished your second.

You don't know if you screamed, you don't know if you stopped making sound altogether. All you knew was pure euphoria and the slide of Harry's tongue on your trembling thighs as he lapped up the messy aftermath of your two consecutive releases. His nose graze your clit, and you twitched, twitched, moaning or sobbing or begging, you couldn't tell.

"Okay, princess, time to lay down," Harry said.

You felt lighter than air as he laid you flat on your back. You were pretty sure you had pillows, but you couldn't recall how to ask. All you knew was the man beside you who knew how to make you c so hard you saw stars.

The same man kissed you before sliding off the bed and you reached for him, something you would never normally do. "Where—You—You're not staying with me?"

Harry's features softened as he kissed you again, this time on your cheek. "Gotta get you cleaned up. Gotta clean myself up for that matter. I'll be quick, I promise."

"Okay."

Harry was quick, just as he promised. A warm towel between your legs, your bed dipping, Harry's body wrapped around yours, the smell of his body wash comforting as it engulfed you—it all made your eyes heavy.

"Where are my pillows?" you finally asked, realizing you were using his arm as one instead.

"They, uh, took the brunt of your special talent, along with my face," he said, only slightly teasing.

"Sorry," you said, cheeks pinking.

"You'll never hear me complaining about that," Harry said, kissing your neck. "Might have to have that regularly. You've made an addict out of me."

You had enough energy to pinch the arm wrapped around you. "Pig."

"Go to sleep, princess. You're not you when you're high on orgasms, and I miss our verbal spats."

You didn't need to be told twice and fell asleep almost instantly. When you woke up, Harry and any and all traces of him were gone. Your pillows were back on the bed without their pillowcases. One glance at your hamper told you where Harry put them before he left.

Part of you didn't like that he left while you were asleep, but as the fog of sleep wore off and you fitted a shirt over your head, you told yourself it was for the best. Especially when a couple minutes later your roommate walked in.

"Hey, Y/n," she said as she set her backpack by her desk.

"Hey," you replied, stretching your arms high above your head before covering a yawn.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so tired in the middle of the day. Tough workout at the rink this morning?"

You couldn't help but grin, your afternoon with Harry replaying in your head. Despite the earth-shattering orgasms only a couple hours ago, you felt your core pulse at the memory.

"Yeah. Something like that."

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry #figure skater!reader #figure skater!yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles au

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hongjoongspoetry · 4 months

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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 TEARIN’ 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)

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suiana · 1 year

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This is probably weird as hell but what would you think about yandere figure skater😭 it reminds me of one of my old partners

(yandere! figure skater x ice hockey gn! reader)

he's been stalking you.

you know it. you see the way his eyes trail all over you, the way he drastically changed his route home to match yours... you bet he even licks your hockey stick whenever you leave it out in the open. he's a weird fucker after all. not to forget that he's literally fawning over you?!

whatever, if anything you felt flattered. the hottest figure skater being in love with you? while everyone else scrambles for even just a fraction of his attention? what an ego boost!

"can you piss off man? it's the hockey team's training session today. you know that."

"it's precisely because i know that~! that's why I'm here silly!'

the figure skater giggles, clinging to your arm before being rudely shrugged off by you. he pouts, rubbing his arms as he skates over by your side, pushing your teammates away to stand by you.

seriously, the nerve of this guy...

"can you shoo-?! seriously..."

"nuh uh~!"

you groan and roll your eyes, scooting away from the figure skater as he follows after you. this cycle continues on as your annoyance increases and his creepy smile only ever grows. and despite your calls for help to your teammates, they never helped. huh when did the figure skater's weird smile disappear-?

whatever, you don't care about anything he does anyways.

man, at this rate you won't be getting any training done :(

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere figure skater #yandere figeure skater x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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valoale · 2 months

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Hard launching my current obsession that just started as an innocent discussion with @sarxzu (dangerous)

So now we have a figure skater Regulus and the stupid twink keeps twirling in my brain and won’t leave me alone (not complaining)

#I remembered how much I love figure skating and been just staring at Yuzuru for days #Also don’t worry I haven’t abandoned drarry I will continue yapping and making art of my baby girls until I die #I’m just in a very deep jegulus brain rot hole right now and the light of the end of the tunnel is train #this au is my life atm #and I have way too many plans for this #also imagine skateboarder James #🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨#hp #harry potter fanart #fan art #vee art #regulus black #jegulus #starchaser #marauders #marauders era #figure skater au #my beloved

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alwaysshallow · 11 months

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figure skater au with gaz? of fucking course. brainrot mostly because of talks with @bunnyreaper, but there's definitely MORE to show you there lmao

you had an injury; minor one, but it was a higher risk to go into singles again, than trying your chance in pairs skating. so, trying to be optimistic, you actually look for a partner.

and you have him. kyle garrick, who also has no interest with singles, but just because he can't really go back to them because of a fight he caused.

"i don't need a partner with a bad reputation" you whine to your manager, your head in hands, as you try to come up with someone else.

"but you need a partner that's better than those idiots out there. wouldn't you agree?"

it's aggravating to hear his voice in this moment, so smug and careless; just like his face, when you look up at him. he looks like he has his answer to anything.

you have no choice but train with him. he is good, but way too handsy for your liking, when you're skating together and his hand, from your waist, stops at your ass. what's more to it, he always seems to seek a physical contact with you, which irritates you to the core.

yet, you can't stop looking at his figure when he's deep into the choreography. when he's exercising without you, as he waits for you to be done with something. he has this passion that draws you to him.

#kyle garrick fanfic #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #call of duty x reader #figure skater au #kyle garrick x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #kyle garrick imagine #gaz imagine

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mortiflyer · 7 months

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I looove tennis doubles because they’re unhinged they’re like “here are these guys who’ve devoted their professional careers to playing as a team and become the best in the world as a result of it. Anyways they have to go up against some singles players who are just fucking around” and sometimes they’re not even from the same country

#tennis #jannik sinner #it’s always about him #seriously though I’m a figure skater and thinking about this in that context is sending me #can you imagine like. ilia malinin and rika kihira or something 😭😭#figure skating

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0oolookitsme · 8 months

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It's Buzzcut Season, Anyways!

Eeeeekk!!!! Hi Hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well, here comes the first post of the year! <3

So.. It is my birthday today, and I'm very excited to tell you that I'm introducing to you, another one of my pairings! This a little excerpt from the fic (wip) I'm writing about this chaotic pairing, and I really do hope this gets you as excited about their story, as I am! This was supposed to be up in December but for some reason, I didn't post it?? Anyways, other than that, you shall see more, further on in 2024 :)

Also, shoutout to @cupid-styles and @elioslover for picking my ice hockey!Harry to be the one to get a buzzcut, hahah! My indecisive self (who lowkey wanted you guys to pick him), could've never 💗

All the love always, A.

Verse - NHL Player!Harry x Figure Skater!Y/n (uni era)

Word Count - It's just an excerpt so it's short!

Warnings - None that I can find but if there are any, do tell me and I'll edit them into this!

Y/n is reluctantly trimming Harry's hair when her nose feels funny, and she sneezes. Its good though, that Harry asks for her opinion regarding a change that he would rather appreciate.

Please rb to share! | Masterlist

Y/n sat on her unmade bed, hair unbrushed and messy since she woke up from a 3-hour nap. Her fingers typed away on her laptop, her face showing zero signs of any stress regarding the assignment she's going to have to turn in un-edited.

Probably because of the breakdown she'd had before taking nap. She'd been so stressed that she had drawn blood from her lips and broken two of her nails -- which was rather disappointing to her considering she'd got them done not so long ago in the honour of the upcoming season of winter.

The temperature was still as hot as summer, but half of the world was snowed in, and she wanted the peace of mind that winter brought her; so, she deluded herself into thinking that it was indeed her favourite time of the year.

A silent burp made its way up her throat, as she drank the day-old diet coke she'd been drinking before her meltdown-that-leads-to-an-amazing-nap.

Just as she slurped on the last sip that wasn't anything but melted ice, she heard the door to the flat open and her eyes rose up just in time to catch the sight of a sweaty and out of breath Harry, through the open door of her room.

"Y/n?" He called for her, walking towards her room when she only hummed in response. He passed her an apologetic smile on reaching her doorframe, and she knew he was going to ask something of her that the both of them know she wouldn't be willing to do quite easily.

"I need your help," he grinned at her. "...And Immediately."

She looked at him suspiciously, before deciding to shift her focus back on her assignment, knowing that he would lure her in if she were to continue looking at him.

But Harry was at once kneeling beside the side of bed she was sitting on. With his hands joined, he contorted his face in a way that looked like he was about to cry. "I beg of you, please! If you don't help me right now, my life will be ruined forever!"

Y/n's eyes had fallen into untrusting slits by now as she minimized the document that she had been writing in. "What is it, Harry?" She asked him in a monotonous tone, shutting her laptop as if procrastinating the essay any longer would be a great help.

"Cut my hair."

Instantly her jaw dropped open. Shaking her head, she began reopening her laptop and Harry took a hold of her wrists. "Harry, there's no way!" She yelped as he began making her get off the bed.

"I'm not asking you to give me haircut like Zayn!" He exclaimed, as if that'd ease her. "Just trim it a bit," he shrugged, walking out into the small living-room with Y/n thrashing behind him. She even threw a few hands at him, but he had a feeling that she wasn't as opposed by the idea as she was pretending to.

He pulled out a chair in front of the mirror that, though they had been living in this flat for nearly two months, had yet to be pinned to the wall. "C'mon, you work at a salon -- surely you know how to trim a guy's hair," he teased her, knowing that questioning her abilities would get to her and she'd cut his hair better than any hairdresser ever could.

Looking at her reflection glaring at him through the mirror, he winked at her before bending down to unzip his bag. He pulled out an electric trimmer from inside it and handed it to her, pulling the towel from the coffee table that he had left there earlier in the morning.

Once done draping it over his shoulders, he handed her the trimmer and added a touch of his puppy-dog eyes even though he knew they simply don't work on her.

"Okay. If you end up bald, don't complain then," she grumbled before running her hand through his hair. "Is this sweat or did you wash your hair after practice?" Her face was already contorted in disgust, like she knew he surely couldn't have done the latter.

"Don't you worry, I washed it after practice," he assured her, looking at her as if she should appreciate him.

She turned on the trimmer and held his hair in sections by one of her hands. "Why didn't you go to a salon?" She asked him, trimming the hair on his sides with her mouth parted.

Harry shrugged and immediately retorted when Y/n shrieked, mumbling an apology. "The salon's too far. I don't have the time to get there; got a handful of assignments to turn in before midnight." He told her. "And I mean, saving some money never hurt anyone."

"You do realize that I've put doing my assignment on pause to do this silly shenanigan with you?" Her eyebrows rose up as she fired another question at him. She suppressed a smile when he passed a dimpled-lopsided grin to her. "God, I hate you," she said, and a smile slipped on her lips as she moved to the other side to trim the rest of his hair.

She had no reason to be doing a parttime job at a salon, it wasn't going to help her in the future in any way, but it did help her in the present with its money. The money she got by being apprenticed to a dance company went straight into the flat-bills and some other necessary purchases that she couldn't avoid.

But she wasn't complaining about it. Living among frat people was a nightmare for her. She did have fun with people but being a clean-freak and a morning person didn't match well with the frats. They did love her dearly, but when Harry came in asking if someone would be willing to be his flat mate, everyone had chanted for Y/n. And, when he asked Y/n at the rink, she had quite literally jumped at the opportunity and in the joy of the moment, hugged Harry with a tight grip that still had his heartbeat rise whenever he thought about it.

With her touching his hair, Harry's heart was beating so hard in his chest that he was afraid it was going to break a rib. His eyes never once left her reflection in the mirror, not with the way she was being so careful and serious. Her lips had parted without her knowing, and she wasn't even blinking often enough.

That was when Harry saw a hair-strand fall in her face, and her face scrunch up in a way it does when she's about to sneeze. He saw as she turned to sneeze in her elbow -- a habit that she still hadn't gotten rid of. He shifted his gaze down on his hands in his lap, to prevent her catching him staring at her.

When Y/n caught her breath after the sneeze, her eyes grew wide. Her hand began shaking as she brought the other hand to cover her mouth, looking at his head in horror. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or begin spewing apologies and decided on the latter one.

But as she opened her mouth, Harry looked at her. "Should I just buzz it off?" He questioned her and thought that she had paled at the thought of him going bald. "I mean, the match season is finally over. I don't have anything to do but study, do my parttime and of course practice hockey." He shrugged explaining his point of view, looking at her to help him decided.

"S-sure! I mean, you'd look good with any-any type of haircut." She was shaking and stuttering, but Harry was too lost in his train of thoughts to question her. "A-and its buzzcut season, anyways!"

That seemed to be helpful for Harry. He smiled at her, "Shave it off, then. I'm basically on vacation from tomorrow... and I guess I'd really appreciate a change like this!" He was back to grinning and Y/n's sweat was beginning to cool off.

She imagined sitting with Harry on a sofa on some ordinary-night with her feet in his lap like he were her closest friend and telling him about today -- a movie playing on the lowest volume possible in the background. She stopped herself before she could get lost thinking about his reaction and mess up even his buzzcut.

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lil-vibes · 1 year

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need me a fem! skk ballet and/or figure skater au so bad yall dont understand

#my mental illness is hitting and i think this will cure it #been spinning it in my head #imagine fem!chuuya in these beautiful outfits doing jumps and spins and being all graceful in the air IMAGINE it rn this is a threat #and my fav girl failure dazai being like :OOO n thinking thats my future wife up there !!#or dance duo skk grrrgrrrr #n the way the public catches on that there is something going on is bc when one wins first place they run straight to the other to #give them the medal or trophy #and ofc they r like 'just so u know who is better' and they they make out in the changing rooms #broooooooo i need i need this so bad #figure skater fem!skk au call that shit yuri on ice #... wait a second #bsd #skk #fem!skk #pebbles (me) ramblers #i need this so badly 😭😭😭#honestly wasnt uuuuh the other side of paradise (?) chuuya a dancer ?? gotta check #gotta finish the fic actually #o7 mission received me im going

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turtleblogatlast · 6 months

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Saw your question about musical instruments and fighting styles for the turtles. I don’t have instruments, but I always felt like Leo’s love of fighting with his blades was very akin to a highly skilled ballet dance.

Like, one day the guys saves a women from a Purple Dragon mugging, and when Leo sheepishly turns to her to say “Miss I promise we won’t hurt you.” He doesn’t get the words out because she starry eyed and very obviouslu not afraid. She exciting exclaims how his fightinf looked just like her ballet practice.

Raph, Donnie and Mikey are suddenly stuck listening to the excited rambles of two giant ass nerds talking about the disciplines of their respective practices.

Cuuuute, I imagine these Purple Dragons are more like previous iterations, yeah? Past Leos can definitely get that ballet vibe to their styles I see it I see it.

Though I will say that in Rise I’d argue Mikey’s more ballet than Leo just in terms of canonical mentions! But tbh all of them have some forms that could mesh well with ballet, Mikey’s just the one I think of most when it’s mentioned as he’d been described as a ballet master before.

For Rise Leo, I actually find his style of fighting akin to figure skating. I might actually make a post about this at some point but it’s actually fun to look into for him.

Fighting styles are always fun to look at though because fighting and dancing go hand in hand, and I wholeheartedly agree that dual wielding katana and using them as Leo does is probably one of the biggest examples this in the series.

#non au ask #god I gotta write that post one day #*buries self in loads of dance analysis to properly look at everyone right*#BUT YEAH LEO AND FIGURE SKATING #c’mon the sport involves dual blades - those blades are on the feet but still #the way leo moves is very reminiscent #bro likes those sparkles too man he’d kill it as a figure skater #plus an ice rink is basically one to one with the look of his portals #imagine him skating across portal after portal #PLUS HE’S A SLIDER??? his very name calls for him to slide on the ice fr

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crazy-fangirl2524 · 4 months

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Figure skater! Andrew and hockey player! Neil is something so personal

#imagine all the monsters as figure skater like Andrew aaron nicky #saw a video of a blond guy figure skating and my immediate thought was Andrew minyard?! and then boom I just imagine this #and omg imagine Kevin was a figure skater and then he changed to hockey or vice versa imagine #and ofc Kevin is the best in both #and the upperclassmen all as hockey players (is there female ones?! never seen it but it’s my hc so yes ice hockey is a coed sport Idc)#if anyone wanna add more to this hc pls #ik we all like beefy Andrew and yes maybe make more sense if Neil the more lean one to be figure skating but Andrew hates physical contact #and working with others #and Neil loves the violence of exy so #and he’s fast #just something something about Neil watching Andrew elegantly on ice like aksksksk I’m foaming along with Neil #and Neil just brutally checking and idk tackling people and me and Andrew are both blushing #my power iconic duo #no couple will ever be like them #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #aftg series #aftg fandom #aftg incorrect quotes #andrew minyard #neil josten #andrew joseph minyard #aftg hc #aftg headcanon #incorrect tfc #tfc textpost #tfc hc #tfc headcanon

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moonstruckme · 20 days

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for thawing out, i see how you've already characterized the reader as kind of the calm, even keeled one of the group and i would LOVE to just see her stand up for herself and absolutely blow up after getting pushed too far by the boys (a little mean of me to want her to go through that but-) but yes i love me a good out of character moment that kind of make the characters be like "oh shit maybe we shouldn't be acting this way-" love you babe 🫶

Hi lovely, idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but thanks sm for requesting! Love you <3

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, chronic pain, implied past abuse, hurt no comfort (for some)

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.9k words

When Remus arrives at your apartment the next morning, Sirius is already standing at the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest as he glowers in Remus’ direction, but it’s difficult to find him very intimidating when his nose is pink from the cold.

“Oh,” he says, feeling awkward. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Sirius replies drily. “What are you doing here?”

Remus shrugs. Fine. If Sirius wants to be a prick (and what else is new), he can do that too. “I didn’t think you’d come. Have you knocked already?”

“Of course I knocked,” he all but sneers. “Why would you assume I wasn’t going to be here? I said I would be.”

“I honestly didn’t expect you’d be able to drag yourself out of bed.”

Sirius looks ready to make a retort, but your door opens. You look surprised to see both boys on your doorstep, your smile tentative. Remus still doesn’t understand how you can do that at such an early hour.

“Hi,” you say. Then you turn to Sirius, grin widening as you pinch the frozen tip of his nose fondly. “You made it.”

“Obviously I made it!” The other boy’s voice takes on a wounded tone, and Remus has to tuck a smile into his scarf. Sirius must suspect, because his gaze narrows.

“How did you get this address?” he asks Remus.

Remus feels his brow crinkle. It’s not as if he’s the one you’re in danger of.

“He texted me last night, and I gave it to him,” you answer for him. “I sort of assumed you’d oversleep.”

Sirius makes an indignant scoffing noise, but he appears to have nothing more to say. He seems in especially brutish form today. You’re as unphased by his moods as usual, hooking your arm through his.

“I’m sorry to get you both up so early, but I suppose two guard dogs are even better than one.” You squeeze Sirius’ bicep affectionately, and the look you send Remus is pure sweetness. “It’s really nice of you both to come.”

Something warm and fond blooms in Remus’ chest. Sirius mutters some disgruntled sort of assent.

You grin. “And now, we can all buy our own drinks!”

“Oh, fuck this then,” Sirius’ irritating pugnacious tone is back, though now it’s at least partly for show. “I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I want out.”

You only make an amused pffting sound, pulling him playfully against your side.

Remus falls back to let the two of you walk alongside each other on the sidewalk. It’s odd and occasionally entertaining to watch you, so entirely familiar and at ease with each other. It’s the sort of relationship Remus hasn’t had in years, and he’s beginning to question whether he ever had a bond quite as close as yours. It’s obvious even from the outside that the pair of you know each other inside and out, and that you love each other just as deeply. But Sirius’ love is another thing entirely; the way he looks at you is almost too painful to witness.

Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius hasn’t pursued you. He certainly prefers it this way; it makes his job considerably easier with things platonic and professional between the pair of you, but it just doesn’t add up. Sirius strikes him as the sort of cocksure prat who goes for what he wants, every time. He’s certainly arrogant enough to be sure he’ll get it, and admittedly, with his looks and devil-may-care attitude, there aren’t many people Remus can see turning him down. (They definitely should, but they likely wouldn’t.) Perhaps, after knowing him so long and working with him so closely, you’re simply too smart to get entangled with the likes of Sirius Black.

You do eventually look back to call Remus up to join the two of you. Sirius looks irked at this, and Remus wishes he could say he was more mature, but he goes in large part because of it. You loop your other arm through his and make sure to include him in your conversation the rest of the way to the rink.

The morning’s practice goes by with much of the same forced camaraderie. You’re friendly and receptive, Sirius is loud and irksome, but overall Remus is pleased with how things are going. You’re improving every day, to a degree Remus can’t help but admire. He can easily see you perfecting this routine by the Olympics in less than a month, which certainly defies his expectations from when he first started coaching you. Sirius is the same as always; he’s not as consistent or as controlled as Remus would like, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change and his form is (though Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud even at knifepoint) truly beautiful to watch.

By the end, he has only one thing to say.

“I think we need to up the ante.”

You look up from where you’re putting on your skate guards, intrigued. “How do you mean?”

“You’re going to perfect this routine.” Remus can say that with confidence now. A nice little bonus is the way your face lights with bashful pride when he does. “You’ll get plenty of execution points from that, but if you want to really compete it wouldn’t hurt to add a higher difficulty move.”

Sirius looks up, his gaze watchful.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

“A death spiral,” says Remus. “We could fit it in during the lower-level sequence towards the end. You should be ending with more of a crescendo anyway.”

You’re nodding. “An outside death spiral?”

“And backwards, if you’re up for it.”

“No way.” Sirius’ skates are already in his bag. You look over at him, bemused, but he’s looking at Remus. “You can’t fuck with the program this late. It’s only a couple of weeks before we leave.”

Reluctantly, Remus turns to face him. His eyes are like a brewing storm. “And would you like to medal whilst you’re there?”

“We don’t need this to medal.”

“You don’t know what the competition will be like. You need to bring everything you can to the routine.”

Sirius kisses his teeth. He stands, looking at Remus with barely repressed malice. “A backwards outside death spiral isn’t something you can just toss in at the last minute. We’re only just starting to manage what we have in the routine already! It’s too risky.”

Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius isn’t subtle; it’s clear what this is really about. “She’s going to be fine,” he says firmly, refusing to back down when the other boy's eyes narrow. “She’s perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether she wants to do this, and your feelings cannot be the deciding factor here. The death spiral is a staple of pair routines. You have to take some risks if you want to compete at this level.”

“Oh, do you?” Sirius’ laugh is cold and dead. “Is that what you did? If it’s so fucking easy, why don’t we get out there so you can show us how it’s done?” He juts his chin towards the ice, jaw set and eyes blazing. “You can let us see how great it works out to take risks.”

Remus doesn’t even feel the ache in his hip as he takes two quick steps towards Sirius, towering over the other boy with his blood pounding in his ears. Sirius is forced to look up, but he turns his chin up defiantly. His face hardens as he takes in a short, quick breath.

You cram yourself between them.

It’s like snapping back into his body. Remus stumbles back, his hip screaming at the hurried motion. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron, collapsing backwards onto the bench while you put yourself in front of Sirius like a human shield. Your expression is wrathful.

“Do not do that,” you growl. You reach behind you, taking Sirius’ forearm in your grasp as though to keep him from moving. “God, why do you both have to be such dickheads to each other? We’re done here.”

You march straight past Remus, dragging Sirius along on your other side like a dog on a leash. He looks about as shell-shocked as Remus feels. Your outburst knocked him flat on his ass, literally. It’s not that Remus didn’t think you were capable of yelling; he suspected you had fangs, but the venom came as a surprise.

He winces when the door bangs shut behind you. They probably deserve that. He doesn’t envy Sirius, who’s likely to get a lengthy lecture from you on the walk home, but Remus does realize this could mean him losing his job. Trading petty remarks with Sirius had almost begun to feel like part of his role, but he’d never expected to make you so furious. He doesn’t know what it will mean for him that he has.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

During the entirety of Remus’ long, steamy shower, he cannot stop thinking of the look on Sirius’ face. The way his eyes had almost changed color, going from a murky gray to blue like the hottest part of a flame. He’d looked almost pleading, for half a second after Remus first brought up the death spiral, before his face hardened back into harsh stoniness. He keeps fixating on that look, that second where the dynamic between them seemed on the brink of shifting before it didn’t. But maybe it never could have. Maybe Remus imagined the whole thing; it was only half a second, anyway.

Regardless, he feels stupid for stooping to Sirius’ level. He’s better than that, he hopes, but in the last few weeks he’s let the other boy bring out the worst in him. He decides that if you don’t fire him, he’s going to try harder to be above it. If Sirius wants to trade insults like a child, Remus can treat him like a child; with patience and a repertoire of aloof platitudes, but he won’t engage with him anymore.

He’s put on a pair of pajama pants and is moving the waistband to hold a pack of frozen peas to his hip when there’s a knock on his door. He leans back to peer through the window, and there you are, blowing into your hands and shivering on his doorstep.

Remus groans as he gets up. He was really hoping to have at least one night of relaxation before having to have this conversation.

You must stop rubbing your hands together when you hear him opening the door. “Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” Remus replies, amused despite himself. They’re having one of those odd nights where snow falls but doesn’t stick, except to you apparently. Little white flakes are tangled in your hair and dusted across your shoulders. Remus can see some between your eyelashes when you blink. You’re stiff as a board, but there’s no hiding the tiny waves of trembles that shake your frame.

“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call first.” Your voice is teetering on the brink of a chitter.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” Remus really shouldn’t feel so warm towards you when you’re likely here to fire (or at the very least, berate) him, but you do look terribly cold. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside so fast he hardly has time to make room for you, and the sleeve of your coat brushes against his bare chest, making him shiver. Remus realizes then that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he decides not to care; it is his house (or his rental, at least), and you’re the one who showed up unannounced. He’s entitled to be as underdressed as he likes.

This small bit of indignance, though founded entirely from a battle within himself, reminds Remus to be miffed with you.

“If you’re going to ask me to apologize to Sirius,” he says, going to the kitchen to put the kettle on (he may be miffed, but he is still Welsh), “you can save it. I have no intention of getting into a row like that with him again, but I was not the one who was being unreasonable.”

You rub your lips together, nodding. “Yeah, I agree. You shouldn’t apologize to him.”

Remus feels his eyebrows draw together. “Okay…good. Because I’m not planning on it,” he says, just to be sure you understand. “He was completely out of line.”

You nod again. “He was.”

Remus finds his eyes straying to the door while he mulls over whether he’s feeling impolite enough to ask the next logical question. Then what are you doing here?

You take in a breath, letting it whoosh out of you. “I came because I want to apologize.”

It’s impossible to keep the surprise off his face. “You?”

“Yeah.” You rock a bit on your feet, and Remus realizes you’re still wearing your coat. Either you don’t plan to stay long, or you’re too anxious to take it off without an invitation. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. It was really harsh—I mean, I was right, but I didn’t need to be cruel about it.” You glance to the side, a bit of bashfulness softening your voice. “I also shouldn’t have called you a dickhead.”

A little chuckle escapes him. “We were being dickheads.”

“You were,” you agree, “but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t want to be like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you still want to stay with us.”

You look back at him, your expression intentionally firm but your eyes beseeching, and some part of Remus melts. He and Sirius get into fights all the time—loud ones, with shouting and name calling and absolutely no holds barred—but you snap at them once, and here you are. Having walked here by yourself in the cold because you feel bad about it.

“Let me get your coat,” he offers.

You take your tea to the couch, where you curl up automatically on the side opposite Remus’, pulling your legs in so he can pass between you and the coffee table. Remus picks his peas back up as he sits carefully, stifling a groan. It’s a bit embarrassing to ice his hip in front of you, but the pain has become too much to ignore.

You wince as you watch him settle them underneath his waistband. “Is that because of me?”

He can’t very well tell you the truth when you sound so guilty. “No,” he says. “I have to do this a lot.” That part’s not a lie.

You nod, still looking sorry. Remus is grateful when you move on quickly.

“Just so you know,” you say, “Sirius probably won’t apologize to you either.”

Remus almost snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t anticipating he would.”

You smile ruefully. “I know he probably feels bad about saying what he did—he knows he had no right—but he just gets so caught up in anger sometimes. If it helps at all, today was just an especially hard day for him. He’s always…extra on edge around this time of year. You learn not to take the things he says personally.”

Remus studies you through narrowed eyes. He blows steam off his tea. “Does he do that to you often?”

You shake your head. “I don’t typically goad him,” you say with no small amount of humor. Or pointedness.

He lifts a brow. He’s already told you he won’t be apologizing for giving as good as he gets.

You sigh, your expression going somber. “Listen, I know Sirius can get really—” you shake your head again, blowing out a breath “—really quite hot headed, but you can’t get in his face like that. His life has—well, it’s not my place to tell you about what his life has been, but even when he says things like that, you can’t act all threatening just because you’re having a spat, okay?”

Remus feels his brow wrinkle. “Threatening?”

Your face softens. “You looked like you were about to hit him,” you say gently.

Something inside Remus gutters. “I did?”

You nod, looking almost apologetic. He feels nauseous.

“I didn’t…”

“I don’t think you would have,” you clarify. “I’m not saying I thought you were going to hit him, I just know how Sirius works. And from his perspective, I know how it looked. You can’t do that to him.”

“I don’t want to do that to anyone.” Remus sounds injured even to his own ears, and so he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to shut out the pained pinch of your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. “I really had no idea that’s how it looked. I think I got too caught up in being angry about what he said, but it won’t happen again.”

“I know.” Your voice is gentle. You set a hand on his knee, tentative but there. “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. It’s okay, just…now you know. For next time.” Remus opens his eyes again, and you smile wryly. “You can shout at him all you want. Don’t let him dish it out without making him take it, but just stay away from physical stuff like that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus agrees hoarsely. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it.” You give his knee a friendly pat, leaning back against the couch cushions and sipping your tea.

Again, Remus marvels at you. Sirius fights for you every day, whether you ask him to or not, loud and bold and relentless in his devotion to you. He wonders if Sirius knows that even when he doesn’t ask, in your own way, you go to bat for him too.

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