#olympic sports au

[chiliger]

Fives and Echo as Olympic fencers 🤺

[alnair-jpg]

Olympics AU: Rachel Elizabeth Dare 💚 and Lester Papadopoulos ☀️

[yuwuta]

olympics coming up…… athlete aus on the mind….. satoru as a swimmer….. unreasonably large wingspan…. huge hands..... thinks “official” competitions and tournaments are boring because he can’t use the goofy purple googly eyes goggles he likes to practice in…… practices at ungodly hours solely because he likes when the pool is empty because that means you’ll dip your feet in at the edge and be there to greet him with a kiss when he’s finished his laps….. they bring up the stats board and it’s just his name ten times before the next fastest person and he could still lap them, and even tho he’ll always put so much pressure on himself to be the best, it’s worth it to have you hold his face and tell him you’re proud of him... he’s gotten so much merch from events and sponsorships and he used to think they just created clutter but that all changes when you start to wear his clothes (esp the ones with his name on it… he’s not proud to admit that does Something to him)…. always looks up to the stands when he finishes a race and if he knows you’re not there, he looks right at the camera, draws an infinity sign with his fingers, and blows a kiss (which, some commentators routinely call “unsportsmanlike conduct” but he doesn’t care, and always, publicly says he’ll pay the fees if it means blowing a kiss to his girl at home)

[danadaria]

Steddie Olympic AU where Eddie gets on his first Olympics for BMX freestyle, and it's so weird because he has been in competitions for many years but nothing like this, something so big and with so many rules.

His background was being a hyperkinetic kid who didn't really care about his life, and somehow being fearless and doing acrobatics became his career. Still, even then it wasn't so serious.

His thing were the X-games and open exhibitions, with fire, hard rock & metal, tattoos, and having RedBull as a sponsor.

Behind the adrenaline he and his friends are a bunch of clowns who just wanted to fly and have the bones of a child forever.

But now he's here: in the middle of a giant line in an ocean of other athletes, wearing a fucking blazer from Ralph Lauren and with the lamest jeans he had to wear in his entire life.

And everything is kinda awful, because he lost sight of friends (Gareth and Max, both skaters, but they train in the same place), and he just heard there's no McDonald's at the Olympics this year.

He doesn't even like McDonald's so much, but god, he grow up hearing about athletes eating hundreds of burgers and mcnuggets for free, and sue him, but his inner child was super excited about it.

"Are you ok, man?"

Eddie opens his mouth to give a snarky remark when he sees the most beautiful man in existence – GORGEOUS v-shape, honey eyes, pink pouty lips, and kissable moles– looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything is okey-dokey" He says lamely.

The most beautiful man in existence snorts at him.

"Okey-dokey? What are you? Five?"

"Probably. I was sad because I found out today there's no free McDonald's this year. Now that I know I'm not sure if it is worth being here"

Eddie's future husband looks surprised for a second and laughs at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. I read some people ate so many nuggets they left the Olympics cackling like a chicken: I wanted to be one of them!"

"Oh, yeah. I ate lots of them post-competition"

"See?!"

"Ok, I give you that. But this year there's going to be international cuisine and all that jazz"

"Knowing me, I'm going to get too overwhelmed with the options and I'll end with the saddest oatmeal every day."

"You have lots of food opinions for someone that's on a sports event"

"Well, is either that or thinking that my biggest rivals are a bunch of 15-year-olds from Brazil and Japan."

"Oh? What's your sport?"

"BMX freestyle"

"That's the race in the mountains?"

"That's literally BMX racing."

"Right." He looked ashamed.

Eddie needed to fix that look, now.

"And you? What's your poison?"

"Poison? You mean my sport?" Eddie nods at him encouragingly. "Gymnastics."

"I can see it." Eddie looks at him approvingly, "You have the arms of a gymnast, big boy."

The face of Eddie's future husband turns a beautiful shade of red. And Eddie is just a second away to ask for his name, and his number to change the course of his life, when he feels a hand on the jacket's collar.

"Here you are, loser. We need to go this way!"

And before Eddie can say anything, Max Mayfield (his new arch-nemesis) takes him away from the love of his life.

He says bye with a hand before being cruelly separated, disappearing into a sea of people.

"Do you want to be murdered before or after the opening ceremony, Red?"

"Oh, shut up loser."

____________________________________________________________

Steve is going back with his best friend to their apartment, feeling super frustrated. Somehow, 24 hours ago, he thought it would be a good idea to give his phone to his best friend for the inauguration night to avoid getting too excited and watching videos of the event until 4 am.

And now he was regretting ALL his life choices.

"You don't understand Robin, I met a super cute guy, but I couldn't get his name! I'm only going to search that and nothing else"

"Steve, you made me swear I wouldn't pass your phone on inauguration day, no matter the reason. You need to sleep"

"Easy for you to say. You didn't meet someone when you didn't have your phone!"

"I would understand better than anyone! I met the cutest girl competing at air riffle, aaaand I didn't have my phone either!"

"You gave her your presentation card, didn't you"

"Yes, sorry."

"See? Why didn't you make me buy some for me, too?"

They arrive at their floor. Steve knows they're a little obnoxious, but it was the first night and it's still early.

"Good night, neighbors! Isn't it too early in the event to be fighting?"

Steve looks up so fast, he probably hurt his neck a little bit. At the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor next to a very closed door, was Steve's meet-cute: All smiley, charming, and inviting.

"It's you!"

"Oh! Hi Mr. Gymnastics, and hi unknown lady."

"It's Robin Buckley," She says and goes straight to her apartment, "we probably going to see each other again, so good night".

And she closes the door firmly behind her.

"I didn't have. I mean. I don't have my phone to search for you."

The other boy looks at him, almost evaluating him, before giving Steve a big smile and offering his hand to stretch.

"Eddie Munson."

"Steve Harrington."

"So, would you-"

"There's a McDonald's near where I compete tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"

Eddie stands up and walks until he's in front of Steve. He smiles.

"Would love it. After all, it was my childhood dream."

Steve smiles too.

[hairmetal666]

It's a fluke that Eddie ends up a gymnast. Wayne only signs him up for summer classes at Hawkins's tumbling gym to burn off his excess six-year-old energy. Nobody, lest of all Eddie or Wayne, expects him to be talented at it.

And now, somehow, he's at his first ever elite gymnastics competition. His coaches all said he was good, but he hadn't really had a frame of reference for what that meant. Not until now. Not until he's in 3rd place after high bar, right behind Steve Harrington.

They tumbled together, as little kids. Steve a tiny boy with an absurd pompadour, monopolizing the mats for insane tumbling passes and lording his high-end competition shirts over the other kids (none of the rest even wore actual gymnastics gear; they were six and it was Hawkins).

Now, he's a swaggering fifteen year old with the same pompadour and bad attitude. They're not on the same rotation, but as Eddie moves on from his floor exercise, Steve makes a point to ram into him.

Eddie doesn't react and maybe that would've been the end of it, but he ends up placing, and Steve corners him in the locker room.

"Come to congratulate me?" Eddie smirks.

"You better watch your back, Munson." Steve shoves him into the lockers.

"I knew you were an asshole, Harrington, but I didn't realize you were a sore loser."

Steve leans close, heat melting into Eddie. "You better count yourself lucky you've gotten this far. Not really a sport for poor kids."

Eddie bristles at this. Yeah, sure, his gear is secondhand, and he and Wayne learned how to sew to mend his competition shirts, gymnastics pants, and warmups, but they work hard, together, for Eddie to do this. "Don't worry about how I afford to be here." Eddie checks him as he brushes past. "Just fix those wobbly flairs on pommel."

The rivalry is hot and fierce and mean, made even worse by the fact that Eddie has an enormous hate-boner for Harrington. It's not, Eddie reasons, his fault. He's gay and surrounded by guys whose bodies are honed for a sport based on strength, endurance, and agility, Steve the most beautiful of all. So he looks, and he longs, and he hates Harrington with every fiber of his being.

Eddie's sure this would continue for their competitive lives, but everything changes the summer before their junior years of high school. They're at a training camp, the kind for world champion, Olympic hopeful types. Steve is practicing ring dismounts when he loses himself in the air, lands hard off the mat, destroys something in his knee. He needs surgery, the recovery time 6-8 months, if he's lucky to be able to compete again.

Maybe a year ago, Eddie would be excited by this development, but now it's kind of devastating. He doesn't bother examining why.

--

Steve comes back and he's--different. His first competition, he comes up, asks, "Eddie, hey, can we talk?" And, well, they've never been on a first name basis before and Steve is so so pretty, so he agrees.

"I just want to say, I'm sorry how I treated you back before. I was a real piece of shit and you never deserved it."

Eddie truly doesn't know how to respond, never foresaw this day coming. "Thanks. Uh--yeah. Thanks."

They stare at each other for a few seconds longer before Steve taps him on the shoulder and walks away.

It's not the only thing that's changed about Steve. There's this big group of feral children that follow him around everywhere now. Apparently, Harrington told them Eddie plays dnd and now they follow him around too.

He also. Has a girlfriend now. She's pretty; delicate looking. Her name is Nancy. And she's nice, or whatever. Eddie definitely isn't jealous. It's just. He's been with Steve in locker rooms for years, and he thought--well, he'd seen the way Harrington's eyes sometimes lingered on a bicep, a well-cut thigh, the intrigue of a pelvic v, and he thought--not that it matters, but he thought--

Anyway, Steve has a girlfriend.

---

They're at the winter classic, when it happens.

Eddie is doing good. Like. Really good. Like his routines, they're not flawless, but he's hitting the big skills and sticking landings, and stays in 2nd throughout the majority of the rotations.

It's not a huge shock when he finishes his final rotation, vault, and winds up finishing in 2nd. What is a shock, though, is that, when the scores go up, Steve is wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, hoisting him into the sky. And, even after he's back on solid ground, Harrington doesn't loosen his hold.

And it's, like. Nothing, right? It's nothing because he has a girlfriend and, sure, maybe he's bi, but that doesn't stop Nancy from existing.

He's not going to think about it, is the thing. He knows it doesn't mean anything, so he isn't going to dwell. It's definitely not all he thinks about during the podium ceremony, or after when he talks to media, or even later walking into the empty locker room.

Or. He thought it was empty. But Steve is there, smiling, saying "you were amazing out there."

They hug again, and Eddie tries not to enjoy the warmth of Harrington's body, the comforting strength of his toned biceps. Eddie pulls back and Steve is--he's so close, gazing at Eddie's lips and--

Steve's mouth is hot and sweet, like he's wearing cherry chapstick, and Eddie can't--he thinks of Nancy; she's nice, doesn't deserve this, they should stop--

But he's sucking on Steve's tongue and Steve is making the sweetest sounds, hard against Eddie's thigh, and nothing else matters.

---

It goes on for months.

Eddie knows he needs to end it, vows to as soon as they're apart.

It all goes out the window as soon as they're together again. He can't get enough. It's Steve. How is he supposed to resist?

(He needs to. It's horrifying, what they're doing to Nancy)

---

The children who follow Steve around invite him to dinner after the first day of the USA gymnastics championships.

Nancy is there.

It's the worst three hours of his life. He can't look at Steve, can barely speak to him.

Nancy is beautiful and smart and kind and strong. She doesn't deserve any of this.

And when Steve drops by his hotel room hours later, Eddie greets him by saying, "I can't do this anymore."

Steve's shoulders drop, eyes squeezing shut. "Right. Yeah, I--Yeah."

"I like you, Steve. A lot. But I can't--you have a girlfriend. And I can't keep being whatever this is for you."

Steve nods, won't meet his eyes. "You're right. It's not fair to either of you. I--My parents expect--And I--I'm sorry," he whispers the last part.

Eddie smiles, heart aching. "Sweetheart. I get it. But. Figure out your shit, yeah? Maybe then we can talk?"

The smile Steve flashes him is a broken thing. "Maybe. Sure."

And that's it.

Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.

The next day, he wins first in the all-around.

---

He and Steve stop speaking.

Somewhere around, ohh, the very first time they hooked up, he caught feelings. So sue him if it kills him, seeing Steve at every competition.

They don't speak again until the Olympic trials. And isn't that ridiculous? Eddie at the Olympic trials. It's such an insane pipe dream, being an Olympian, that he doesn't actually have any expectations whatsoever.

So knock him over with a feather when he fucking makes it on the team.

And so does Steve.

The announcement rings out, and Steve is there, out of nowhere, pulling Eddie into his arms. And Eddie's so hyped, so excited, that he just shouts and hugs Steve right back.

He pretends the proximity, the musk of Steve's cologne, the tangy saltiness of his sweat, doesn't bother him, doesn't transport him immediately back to Steve's bed.

They're teammates now; he can keep it casual.

Right before they leave for the games, news breaks that Steve and Nancy have broken up.

---

The Team competition at the fucking Olympics is going well. They've had good routines, with no huge errors, stay consistently within the top 5 scores. But then they're on the last rotation, parallel bars, and he's the very last competitor to go. They'll win bronze if he can score above 14.933.

But

He's inconsistent on parallel bars, always has been, something deep and psychological he can't quite let go of, and now their medal chances are all on him.

He salutes the judges, jumps into his starting position--and his mind goes quiet. Muscle memory, skill, years of training take over--he's flawless.

Eddie sticks his dismount, and the place erupts. He doesn't have a score yet, doesn't know if he's done it, but the rest of the team screams like he has.

They pull him into their arms, but Steve is closest, his grip the tightest. Their eyes keep catching, holding, and Eddie can't really breathe but he doesn't think it's the anxiety or the excitement.

The score goes up.

Not only is it high enough for bronze, it puts them in silver.

Eddie has barely a second to process before he's being hoisted into the air, Steve's arms bracing him up. The crowd's going crazy, his teammates screaming and hugging him, each other, but all he sees is Steve beaming up at him.

He's slowly lowered to the ground, Steve's arms still around him. "You were perfect, baby," Steve whispers. "Never seen anyone like you."

He wishes he could stay right there, Steve beaming at him, but they won the silver--they won the silver at the goddamn Olympics--and they have to get medals, do interviews.

They don't have a chance to be alone together until they're back at the Village, where Steve is just waiting in Eddie's room when he gets back.

"Is this okay?" Steve asks. "I wanted to talk to you and Jason let me in, but I can--I'll leave."

"Please don't." Eddie swallows. "Stay."

Steve smiles, a little. "I needed to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did to you and Nancy. It was unfair to both of you. I love her, you know? But she's not who--I'm not in love with her."

"No?"

"No. I thought it would make my parents happy, settling down with a nice girl. But it turned out it didn't actually make a difference to them, who I dated. And she isn't who I wanted to be with."

"I'm proud of you for figuring out what you really wanted. It's brave."

"I wish I could've been brave earlier." He gives a little laugh. "Before I hurt you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He wishes the same thing.

"Um, which is also why I'm here." Steve plucks at the waistband of his Team USA Nike joggers. "I wanted to see if maybe we could try again? Officially this time?"

Eddie can't keep his smile from taking over his entire face. "Sweetheart, I would love to."

"Yeah?"

And Eddie just--after all this time, he just--pulls Steve into his arms and kisses him. The silver medals, still around both of their necks, clink together with the force, but neither of them really care.

Steve sighs, nuzzles his nose to Eddie's. "Missed you so bad," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Eddie smiles. "But kiss me a while."

Eventually, they fall back onto Eddie's bed, which makes a horrible noise as their combined weight topples onto it, and they break apart to laugh. Steve smooths back his hair, wrapping a few fingers through his curls to keep Eddie close, even though he's not about to go anywhere.

"Can't believe we made it all the way here." Steve's looking at him like he hung the moon

"Cause we're taking medals home?"

"Honey," he laughs. "Because I'm taking you home."

[thecuriousbeauty]

One-Love! (Harry Styles Oneshot- Tennis player! Harry x Tennis Player y/n)

Synopsis:- This is a one shot inspired by Paris Olympics Gold medalists Katerina Siniakova and Tomas Machac, a beautiful couple who broke up before the olympics to focus on their game, and teamed up in the mixed doubles event to win the gold for their country. They shared a sweet kiss after their victory.

Word Count: 4,219

Warnings: Smut. Some sweet sex, a little bit of angst, and lots of fluff.

_______________________________________________

The sun was bright, warm, and not harsh, falling over y/n’s face through the small gaps of her window blinds. The alarm goes off and she wakes up with a soft groan, expertly reaching out a hand to silence it, without having to look. 

“Wakey wakey, it’s a beautiful morning!”She hears her boyfriend, Harry, and curls up on her side, hiding further under her blankets and acting like she’s still sleeping as she hears his footsteps coming towards her.

She feels the bed dip down with Harry’s weight as he climbs on, and leans over her, his breath fanning her face. “Aw, look at you, my sleepy head.”

y/n has to trap in her smile as she feels his gentle fingers stroke over her hair, moving the strands away from her face. “What am I gonna do to wake her up?”Harry wonders, smiling as he knows she’s playing with him. “Maybe I should go with a tickle attack.”

y/n gasps as his arms wrap around her waist, and hands sneak up to his oversized shirt she was wearing. “You can’t wake people up with tickle attacks!”, she says.

He laughs, pulling her so her back is to his chest. “You’re awake then?”

“No.”, she grumbles, turning around in his arms, and resting her forehead on his shoulder blade.”Why is it morning so fast?”

“Well, we did stay up till late. You wanted to go another round and then-”

“-Oh shut up.”, she cuts him off, and opens her eyes, meeting the forest green ones staring back at her. Harry’s face splits into a big smile as he rubs his nose with hers, something they always do. “There’s my girl.”

y/n has known Harry since years. They grew up in the same neighborhood, and their parents are friends. y/n and Harry didn’t get off to a great start though. Harry and his friends were playing football when y/n and her friend were walking by, and one of them kicked the ball towards them, making it splash onto a puddle right in front of them. The murky brown water fell on y/n’s friend’s new white top. Of course the boys didn’t mean to and they apologized, but since then, her friends wouldn’t look eye to eye with those boys. It seemed like a good grudge to keep at their young age.

y/n had a love for tennis. She loved watching the matches with her dad, and her dad even set up a net for her in the backyard so they could play. He enrolled her in the nearest coaching academy, where she didn’t know that Harry was training as well. 

“Oh Harry! It’s her first day today. Good that you have a friend already, eh?”Her dad smiles as he pats little Harry’s shoulder. The older curly haired boy smiled at y/n, a little smile playing on his lips. y/n tells her dad that she would be okay, and he leaves, promising to come pick her up after two hours. 

“So, you like tennis?”Harry asks, looking sideways at her as they walk inside. 

“Yes. You too?”, she asks, and he nods, putting out a hand. “Friends then?”

y/n smiles, shaking his hand. “Friends.”

“Someone once told me that mornings are the best time to train.”, Harry tells her as he brings his hands up to cup her face. 

“Must be a crazy person.”, she smiles, admiring how some of his brown curls fell over his face. “Yes, she is quite crazy. But I love her.”, he smiles back, dimples popping as his thumb stroked over her bottom lip. “Let’s go, sunshine. Made our smoothies ready.”

“Kiss?”, y/n puckers her lips. Harry looks at her fondly, before pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I love you too.”, she says, ruffling his hair when they pull away and sits up, stretching her arms above her head. 

Harry and y/n get into their training clothes, after y/n freshens up and they get going to the court where they practice. They did their warm ups, and ran some rounds around the court first. Harry and y/n had different coaches, but they train together a lot of times.

“You’re going down, Styles.”, y/n says, pushing her hair back with her head band before picking up her racket.

“You can try, y/n.”, Harry grins, who was jumping on his toes on the opposite side. 

Harry was easily the best player she had played with, and played against. He was quick on his toes, his eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s, and he moved on the court like a panther. He was something you would call a mastermind, he had moves saved until the last moment and surprised his opponent when they least expected it. Harry had the saddest time of his life when he failed to qualify for the Tokyo Olympics. He got injured during the qualifying match, and he couldn’t be at his best.

“One- Love!", Harry smirks, as he gets a point. 

y/n’s coach thought she wasn’t ready yet during Tokyo, so she was now looking at the Paris Olympics. Winning a medal for her country was her dream and she would do anything to get that. 

“Yess!”, y/n cheers as she gets the match winning point to beat Harry. They always get so close, and playing against y/n sends the gears in Harry’s head turning, and he has to be at the top of his game. y/n walks to the bench, sitting down tiredly and Harry walks to her, giving her a fist bump. “Nice one, babe.”

“Thanks.”, she smiles, taking her water bottle out of her bag and pouring some over her face before chugging it down. “Wanna go again?”

“I’d like to, but I’ve got a session with the coach in the evening, don’t wanna over work myself.”, Harry tells her and she nods. “Shall we go grab breakfast?”, he asks her.

“Sure.”

Harry and y/n get some breakfast, then spend the day with each other before they part for training with their coaches in the evening. 

“y/n, you have six months from now for the qualification rounds.”, her coach tells her. “We have to make a game plan for that soon.”

“I’m at the top of my game right now coach, I just have to keep doing what I’m doing, right?”, she asks. She had won silvers, and golds in the previous tournaments. She was one of the country’s best at the moment. 

“This is the Olympics, y/n, it’s not going to be easy.”, he tells her. “You have to work double as hard.”

“I will. I’m gonna go to Paris this time.”

He smiles at her, keeping his hands together over his knees as he leans to talk to her. She was sitting on the court, arms around her knees. “You know you have to let go of all distractions, right?”

“My social media and stuff? Yeah, I can do that.”

“I’m talking about Styles.”

She raises her eyebrows. “What about him? He isn’t a distraction coach, we make each other better. Besides, we’re competing in different categories, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I want your focus to be on Tennis completely, y/n.”, he stresses. “You can’t do that if you’ve got a love life. And you know as well I do, that Harry will do anything to get this win. He needs it. He’s getting older, and he’s under a lot of pressure. It’s good for both of you to stop dating for a while, at least until this gets over.”

y/n opens her mouth and closes it. “You’ve got what it takes y/n, you are so talented. Isn’t this your dream?”

“Yes..”, she whispers. 

“Then you have to let go of everything and give me your best in these next few months.”

Harry was fed the same things from his coach, and they both stopped seeing each other so frequently. They stayed over less, and there was this air of tension around them as the days grew closer. 

“Babe..”, Harry says. He pauses the show they were watching, making y/n turn to look at him. “Hm?”

“W-We, um, we need to talk.”

y/n nods, sitting up, and Harry takes her hand. He didn’t want to tell her this, but he had to. Tennis was important to him. This could be his last chance to finally make it. He had to make sacrifices. 

“I think we should stop seeing each other.”, he murmurs. “They’re right, we have to focus on the sport. It’s our dream.”

y/n’s heart squeezes in her chest. “Y-You’re just as important to me, Harry.”

Harry quickly looks up to her eyes, squeezing her hand. “y/n, you mean the world to me. You’re my person, and my everything. Trust me, I thought about this a lot.”

“Me too.”, she agrees quietly. “This is it, then?”

“No. No, please, don’t say that.”, he shakes his head, leaving her hand to scoop her into his lap. One of his hands cups her cheek, while the other lays at her hip. “We can get back together..when things are not so hectic.”

“So..we break up for a few months to focus on Tennis?”, she asks, tears springing in her eyes, and Harry’s heart breaks as he sees that. He nodded. “M-My dad..he wanted me to win in the Olympics, it was his dream. He even told me about it before he d-died. I-I have to do this, y/n.”

She nods, understanding. She had the same love for the sport. An Olympic medal is the best achievement for any sports person.

“I love you.”, she whispers, her forehead touching his. 

“I love you too.”, he whispers back, kissing her. His tongue strokes over her bottom lip and she opens up, to let his tongue explore her mouth. Her fingers play with the curls at the back of his head, as his hands run up and down her sides. “One last time?”, he whispers against her lips, eyes looking at hers. 

“One last time.”, she agrees, joining their lips again. Harry’s lips trail down her neck, and her jawline, leaving his marks. “N-No seeing anyone else, right?”, she asks.

“Do you want to?”, he asks, slipping his hand under her shirt to grope at her breast. She moans, pressing closer to him as she feels his boner through her shorts. “No..n-no one’s as good as you, Harry.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”, he smirks, rubbing her nipple between his fingers. “Let me see you, baby.”, he whispers, tugging her shirt off her body. y/n does the same to him, and continues to straddle his lap as he marks her up.

She runs her hands over his muscular arms, his broad shoulders and over his inked chest. “Just like that baby, go down on me, just like that.”, he murmurs, hands moving to her hip to get her into a rhythm. He plays with her breasts and showers her in kisses, groaning against her skin. 

“H-Harry I need you.”, she moans softly. “Please.”

“Anything for you, baby.” Harry picks her up, hands under her ass as he takes them to the bedroom, their lips connecting again. He lets her back hit the bed softly, before hovering over her. “You are so beautiful.”, he punctuates each word with a kiss down to her stomach, while his hand moves to her core, feeling the sleekness of her wet folds. 

“Right back at ya, Styles.”, she says, pulling him closer as she runs her hands down his back. Harry groans, not able to hold on any longer. “Let me get inside you, darling.”

She spreads her legs, and he pushes his dick inside her. She moans at the feeling of being full. Harry fills her up so well. He starts moving in and out of her, his eyes looking at hers. “You feel so g-good, y/n.”, he moans. “So perfect for me.”

y/n looks at the love of her life, her chest bursting with emotions. She wished they could be here like this, with only the two of them in their own world forever.

“H-Harry?”, she asks, opening her palm, wanting him to hold her hand while he fucked her. Harry looks at her, also brimming with emotions. He tangles his hand with hers immediately, squeezing it tight. “I-I love you y/n. I love you so much.”

“I-I love you too.”, she smiles, her body starting to shake as she feels her orgasm coming. She clenched around his dick, and he brought his other hand to rub her clit. Her eyes roll back in her head as she whispers his name, again and again, as she reaches her high. Harry cums after she does, and he lays on top of her, exhausted.

“We’ll be fine, love.”, y/n whispers, running her hand through her favorite head of curls. 

Harry smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We will.”

_____________________________________________

y/n and Harry hadn’t seen each other, or talked to each other for months. Harry missed y/n so much that he felt a constant tugging in his heart. He trained alone with his coach, and he missed the times when they would mess around with each other. He missed her laugh, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, he missed her scent in his room, on his clothes, he missed everything about her. The only thing that kept him going was his game.

y/n wasn’t any better. She was alright for the first few weeks, but then the empty space next to her on the bed, the lack of warmth when she woke up in the mornings, and the lack of cheesy jokes made her think about Harry. She was on a strict diet, and her coach put her on a different workout regime. It was so extreme that after a while, the only thing on her mind was Tennis. Her mind was trained. 

Over the months, y/n’s agility improved along with other aspects, and she became great at reading the game. She was beating everyone she played against. Finally, it was time for the qualification rounds. 

Harry had finished his match, and he had won, so he had booked his spot in Paris, representing Britain. 

“Back to the hotel now?”, his friend, who’s also under the training of his coach asks him. 

“Next match in court number five! y/n y/l/n versus Yasmin Reinardo!”, Harry hears the announcement and his eyes widen. He wanted to go see her.

“Um, you go ahead.”, he told his friend, before rushing off to court five. He joined the audience, making it just in time.

He felt so many emotions when he saw her. It had been six months. His sunshine, his baby, his love. She looked incredible. Gorgeous as always, and she had gained some muscle around her arms. Her hair was tied into a high pony, and she wore her favorite white head band which she thinks is her lucky charm. 

Harry was so proud as he watched his girl on the court, she was on fire. Her opponent was good, but not good enough. 

y/n won the game, and the other girl broke into tears. After all, she also had the dream for representing her country at the Olympics. y/n pulls her into a hug, rubbing her back as she mumbled something Harry couldn’t hear, but he smiled. He quickly went down to meet her, as she wiped the sweat off her body with a towel.

“Congratulations, love.”

She spins around so quickly when she hears his voice, and her eyes melt. She was overjoyed with emotion because of the win. She was going to compete in the Olympics for the first time! And the first person that she wanted to see was Harry, who was right in front of her.

“Harry.”, she gushes, before throwing her arms around him. Harry didn’t mind the sweat, he needed the hug just as much as she did. He squeezed her to her chest, holding her close. “O-Oh my god, I can’t believe it.”, she shakes in his arms.

“You made it love, you’re going to Paris!”, he rubs her back, pressing his lips to the top of her head. He heard the camera click, and knew their photos were being taken. Oh well. He couldn’t worry about that now.

“Y-You?”, y/n pulls back to look at him. Harry grinned at her, dipping his head down to rub his nose with hers. “I’m coming along too.”

She grins back and squeezes him. “I would have been so mad if we broke up for no reason. We get a free ticket to Paris!”

________________________________________

The Olympics will be held in another four months.. They caught up that day during the qualifications, grabbed a dinner together to celebrate, and then they were back to training. 

They would see each other more often now, because all the British representatives trained together. Harry and y/n were both in better spirits now that they could see each other frequently, even if it was strictly during practice. 

They would exchange subtle glances, touch hands when they exchanged things, and talk when they got time, but it was mostly about the game. One month before the Olympics, their team was yet to decide who would play for the mixed doubles. 

“You both have played together before, right?”, one of the coaches asked Harry. “y/n and I? Yeah, in the commonwealth, we won bronze.”

“I think they’re our best shot.”, the guy says, looking at the other coaches and the players. 

“What do you guys think?”

Harry looks at y/n, from across the room, like I’m okay if you’re okay.

Yes, there was their break up thing, they hadn’t kissed in months, there would be sexual tension having to play right next to him as his team member, and she couldn’t let that affect the event she was competing for. But it was an amazing opportunity, she had two chances to get a medal.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. We’ve played together the most, and we make a good team.”, y/n said, and Harry smiled. 

So that’s how they started preparing together, for the mixed doubles along with their own events. 

“Are you nervous?”, y/n asks one night, as she sits on the floor stretching. “We’re flying to Paris tomorrow, Harry.”

“I’m excited about going to Paris, but am I nervous about the actual reason we’re going? Yes.”, he says, making her chuckle. They were the only ones there, and Harry was putting his racket into its case. “It’s gonna be unreal. I mean, we’re getting a step closer to our dreams.”

y/n nods, stretching her legs out. “Any tips from your experience? About the whole adjusting to playing in the world’s biggest tournament thing.”

Harry laughs lightly, turning to her. “Babe, this is my first time too.” He crouches down so he’s looking at her. “But I’d say just focus on your game. You are the best, believe only that. Tune out everything else. You might feel like listening to the crowd who’s cheering for you, but tune that out too. You focus on doing what you’re good at. You’ve sacrificed so much for this, and you deserve to win. Play with that feeling.”

y/n looks into his eyes, and nods as his words seep into her brain. Her eyes moved to his lips, he was so close. Just one kiss. 

Harry leaned closer, but it was to grab her leg. “Let me stretch you out.”

“Y-Yeah..”, she looks away from him. Harry had only gotten more attractive, and she loved seeing him in his short tennis shorts and a loose shirt. His tattoo covered muscular arms made her go weak in the knees.

“Lay back.”, Harry says and she does. Harry’s hands slowly lift up her leg, one of his hands on the back of her thigh and the other on her foot as he applies some pressure to it. She can’t stretch herself out so well. 

“Other leg.”, Harry smiles, keeping that leg down and his hands reaching for her other leg. She lifts it up, and he stretches it out like he did with the other. He was on his knees in front of her. Then he folds her leg, making her knee touch her chin.

“Hold it for another second..”, he hums, counting down. He did the same for the other leg, and she feels like her muscles are dissolving under her touch. 

“Pancake time.”, Harry pats her thigh, and she sits up, leaning over with her hands on the floor, going into something called the pancake stretch. Harry goes behind her, and applies pressure to her back. “Head down..that’s it, hold it there.”

She groans, feeling the stretch. Harry can’t help but smile, she can’t see his face anyway. “Alright, arms up.”

He stretches her arms, holding them above her head, and when he’s done, he kisses the top of her head. “All done.”

“Thanks, H.”, she smiles. “I’m gonna get going, make sure I’ve packed everything.”

“Mhm.” He wishes he could go with her. 

“Soon.”, she promises, like she read his mind, and he smiles as she kisses his cheek before walking away with her bag.

_____________________________________________________

It was crazy. Harry and y/n were in the Olympic Village, competing in the Paris Olympics. It was unbelievable. y/n had to pinch herself when she got there. It was every sports lover’s dream. They got a little tour when they arrived, and she was awed by all the different areas for the numerous sports competitions. 

She stood beside Harry for the opening ceremony, along with their other team members as they were welcomed. She was overwhelmed, thinking about how hard she had worked to get there. 

Her own event was going to be after a few days, the first event was her mixed doubles with Harry. They knew very well each other’s strengths and weaknesses, who should cover what, and everything else. They were well prepared and planned.

They won every game they played, and made it to the finals. 

y/n wanted to win this for Harry. She was going to give it her best. 

“We got this.”, Harry squeezes her hand as she jumps around, minutes before the match. “y/n, we got this.”

She nods, taking a deep breath and looking at him. A medal was sure. If not gold, silver. But their eyes were on the gold. Everyone wants to win.

She walks to Harry, and hugs him. “We’ve gotten this far love, this is the final stretch.”, Harry whispers against her hair. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

“I-I’m proud of you too.”, she pulls back to hold his face. “A-And I can’t do it anymore. I-I can’t live without you, Harry.”

“Neither can I, baby. I need you in my life, I can’t fucking breathe if I think about losing you, ever.”, Harry squeezes her tight. “Now, it’s time to win a medal. What do you say?”

“I say yes.”, she grins. 

Everyone cheers as Harry and y/n enter the court, shaking hands with their opponents. The fans loved to cook up theories about Harry and y/n, being seen out a lot of times with each other and their chemistry on the court is just magical to watch. Harry and y/n give cheeky responses when they're asked about it during interviews. They never confirmed their relationship, but their fans think it's obvious.

“One- Love!”

They score a point, and grin at each other before their hands meet for a fist bump. It was a tight game, keeping the people watching at the edge of her seats. They won the first set.

y/n and Harry are seen whispering to each other and their coaches as they drink their water and electrolytes during the break. They knew where their opponents were weak and just how to win the second set just like they had won the first.

And they do.

y/n screams in joy and astonishment. The fact that she just won an Olympic Gold Medal for her country felt so unreal! Harry was going through the same emotions. He made his father proud, he achieved what he had been working towards for years. 

The whole world was looking at them, but Harry could only see one person. His partner and the love of his life. 

“We won Harry! We won!”, she jumps high into the air, before wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him. Harry laughs as he lifts his girl up, spinning her around. They were laughing and crying at the same time. When Harry lets her feet touch the ground, she grins at him through her tears, and he cups her face. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Harry.”, she chokes back, and Harry couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed her. He kissed her like he didn’t for 10 months, he kissed her like he couldn’t breathe, and he kissed her like they just became World Champions.

Kateřina Siniaková and Tomáš Macháč- Gold medlists, Mixed Doubles. Paris Olympics, 2024.

[bipirate]

i think maybe the olympics got to me because i've been thinking about sports AUs

commissions | patreon

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Summer Olympics Pt 4

When Kara scores the winning points in her own gold medal match, the press are all clamoring to interview her. Breathless and elated, she wipes the sweat from her upper lip and pants, "well, I definitely wanted to make my country, my sport, and my team proud, but... to be honest, I really just wanted to impress a pretty girl."

The camera tracks her gaze to the stands, where Lena is jumping and whooping with excitement. When she catches Kara looking at her, her grin grows blinding, inviting Kara to trot to the sideline for a fierce hug from her new... friend? Girlfriend.

The press speculates for weeks.

[kevinsdsy]

Kevin's mission to meet the Irish exy team is so important to me now 😭 didn't he live in Ireland until Kayleigh's death too omg someone get him a jersey!!

KEVIN DAY BEING OBSESSED WITH THE IRISH NATION EXY TEAM IS SO VERY IMPORTANT TO ME ‼️ i imagine when he goes pro and moves on from his USC Trojans fanboy-phase it just changes into an irish NT-fanboy phase instead SHDKDHDJ

he watches all their games, keeps up with the news, sends best wishes to injured players and has a shrine to kits he has collected by doing kit-switches during the olympics ((i’m also a firm believer there would a be a world championship the way football has the world cup too so he would have an irish WC kit too bc why not))

[friend-lover-traitor-narrator]

Another idea for an Olympics AU anybody?

I propose to you Ethan Hunt, boulder & lead athlete, America's best shot for gold, who's desperately pining for his best friend and coach Benji Dunn who's just as equally smitten by the athlete but doesn't want to risk neither their friendship nor their chances for gold by making a move on him.

At the other end of the city Pete Mitchell, Ethan's very lookalike cousin, plays beach volleyball under the Eiffel Tower with his best friend Nick Bradshaw. Nobody believed in them because of Pete's lack in height but they qualified for the Olympics nevertheless and quickly become fan favorites all over the world. At random now star athlete Pete Mitchell stumbles across this blond haired, blue eyed guy in the olympic village who (judging by the outfit he's sporting) seems to be on the Polish team. Pete takes his chance at exchanging pins with him simply because Poland is still missing in his collection (and not at all because he's terribly attractive). They have a bit of small talk and then they go their own ways but every thought Pete has left next to the competition he's in is wasted by thinking about the handsome Polish swimmer.

[shepherds-of-haven]

what olympic sports would the ROs compete in?🧐

Ooh, good question! I'll answer for the Summer Olympics for now (but also, I don't really watch them, so bear with me 😂 I'm just going to go based on vibes!):

Blade: Fencing, judo, taekwando

Trouble: Shooting, boxing, football

Tallys: Archery, equestrian

Shery: Golf

Riel: Badminton, tennis

Chase: Gymnastics, sport climbing, 3x3 basketball

Red: Rowing, lacrosse, 3x3 basketball

Ayla: Athletics (track and field), breaking, sport climbing

Briony: Sailing, taekwando, volleyball

Lavinet: Equestrian, fencing

Halek: Diving, table tennis

[alnair-jpg]

Thought: Lester’s nickname from when he did archery should be Apollo! Because of how good he was! And now people call him and Rachel Apollo and the Oracle because of the thing with her predicting the athletes moves and and him already being nicknamed Apollo! Or something like that!

I really like this! And it fits into their canon identities perfectly. Almost, as if, I planned it that way 🩷 I’m so happy you agree it fits!

I love the idea of them both getting nicknames for being so good at what they do.

[goddesspharo]

Now what?

[hayaku14]

gymnast kaito x sharpshooter shinichi meet-cute in the olympics au

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - Gold Over America

Masterpost

Read on AO3 (this is a new installment in the Clegan Olympics AU series on AO3)

Author's note: This is NOT the official epilogue. However, I went to see the Gold Over America Tour recently, and I couldn't not write this. Takes place about 5 months after Sous le Ciel de Paris

---

“You holdin’ up okay?”

Curt asks Bucky some form of this question every single night. Are you okay? How you holdin’ up? How’s the leg feel? You sure you’re good for the next number? We can fill in for you if you need a night off.

Sometimes it bugs him – usually when he is, in fact, in more discomfort than he cares to admit – but more often he’s coming to recognize it for the friendly concern that it is. He’s slowly starting to accept the fact that he isn’t a teenager anymore. He isn’t indestructible, and there are people here who care about him and actively want to help him stay healthy.

That’s what we call growth.

Bucky blinks, frozen in the middle of wrapping his knee with tape. Tonight is only his second time since Paris tumbling without a brace and he’s probably overcompensating with how much he’s wrapping the joint. He might as well just wear the damn brace. “Huh? Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” He tilts his head and squints, taking a second to actually think about how his leg feels, before concluding that physically, yes, he is fine, if a little sore. 

He nods again. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Curt smacks his hand and makes a quit it motion. He grabs the tape out of Bucky’s hand and starts unwrapping it from around his leg as Bucky sputters in protest. Then Curt hands him his brace instead. Bucky glares at him, but he takes the thing and goes about strapping it around his knee.

“No reason not to wear it if you’re this jittery,” Curt says.

It’s early January, a brand new year, and they’re at Capital One arena in Washington, D.C. It’s their third week of the Gold Over America Tour, a fun sort of victory lap for USA’s Olympic gymnasts as well as some of the other gymnasts from the U.S. and from around the world. It’s performative instead of competitive, promoting camaraderie, strength, and resilience through a mixture of gymnastics and fun dance numbers.

In short, it’s a two month long cross-country excursion where the gymnasts basically just get to have fun and interact with fans.

Since they’re in D.C., they’re close to home, and Bucky’s been distracted like this all day. He hasn’t been able to think straight from the moment he woke up on the tour bus, all jumpy and worried about seeing his boyfriend and if he would actually show up or if he’d decided in the month since they last saw each other that Bucky wasn’t worth it after all. Then when Gale actually did meet them in the stadium for rehearsal, Bucky was so excited that he kept getting distracted and tripping over his own feet. Not to mention the amount of time he spent just staring at Gale in complete awe when they all went out to lunch earlier, or the fact that he was nearly late for the show because he was doing god-knows-what backstage.

And now they’re here, in the middle of act one, and Bucky is thrown all out of whack again. Curt tells him to get his head on straight, and Bucky flips him off.

Beside them, Croz is changing into a different competition shirt and pants. He glances up at Bucky, a teasing smile on his face. “You see him out there?”

Bucky nods as he gets to his feet and starts tugging his own pants on. “Just for a second.”

One, perfect second during the opening number where the noise of the stadium faded to quiet and it felt like everything around him was moving in slow motion. It’s hard to see into the crowd through the lights shining on them, but Gale is in the front row, right by the spring floor. And Bucky was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Curt rolls his eyes. “Not like you didn’t know he’d be here. You’ve been with him all day.”

“It’s just… different.” Bucky shrugs, shifting his weight from leg to leg to test out how the brace feels. “It’s the first time he’s getting to actually see me do this since…” Well, since the Paris Olympics five months ago. Since that last fateful day in Bercy Arena that nearly destroyed John’s career (again) and tore them apart.

It’s the first time since then that Gale gets to watch Bucky be a gymnast. The first time since then that he gets to watch Bucky do what he loves to do. 

Originally, before tickets went on sale, before Bucky fucked his leg all over again, they’d hoped to do this tour from September until early November, giving them enough time to recover from the Games and choreograph the show on the front end, and enough time to get back to work for the 2025 competition season on the back end. And then John Egan, one of the stars of this show about strength and resilience, got hurt, went AWOL, spiraled into oblivion, what have you, and it looked like they’d be doing the tour without him.

Once he came to his senses and started at least attempting to crawl his way out of the hole he tried to bury himself in, though, he insisted he wanted to do it. 

The doctor, of course, said he was risking his career doing any form of gymnastics so soon, so they came to a compromise.The tour was postponed until mid-December to give his knee time to heal, and he, for the most part, keeps his skills fairly low impact. There’s one part of the show where each member of the Olympic team performs part of one of their routines, but other than that, most of the skills they’re doing here are easy by their standards in order to preserve their bodies, whether that means doing one less twist or flip or letting themselves fall onto the mats during their landings. John isn’t the only one that needs to be careful – they all do. So, as he claimed to the doctor, anything he’s doing on the tour really isn’t more than he’d be doing in his training gym back home at this point.

That doesn’t keep everyone from worrying about him, though.

For the most part, it’s gone well. Performing on tour with his friends, meeting so many fans, and traveling around the country has been a blast. He keeps up with his rehab regimen, frequently doing the whole rest, ice, compression, and heat deal on the bus between cities, and he’s only had to miss a show once due to overuse of his leg.

He’s doing what he loves, and truly he’s finding his love for it again after a rough couple of years. But now, things are different. He has two loves, and the other is in the audience tonight. They’ve been apart for a month, and yet when they saw each other this morning, Gale still jumped into his arms, kissed Bucky like it was nothing, looked at him like he was everything.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Gale had exclaimed, with that bubbly, candy-sweet smile that is so rare and makes Bucky’s heart jump when he sees it. “I miss you.”

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. It made Bucky feel all sappy, hearing those words, seeing Gale’s freckles and dimples and the real, unequivocal love in his eyes. It made him feel special, wanted, loved.

Bucky still wonders what he did to deserve that. He still thanks the universe every day for giving him a second chance with the most amazing guy in the world.

Croz puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, bringing him back to the present. They can hear the music of one of the girls’ numbers pumping through the stadium; it’s coming to an end, which means he needs to get ready to head out. “He’s proud of you, you know,” Croz says. “You should’ve seen the way he watched you during rehearsal.”

Bucky is quiet for a second, and then he nods hesitantly. He and Gale got into a bit of an argument when Bucky said he wanted to go on tour, after he had already promised to take time off. They didn’t speak for at least a day, and Bucky remembers being so afraid that he was about to lose the only good relationship he’d ever had all over again. He was so afraid he’d have to choose between gymnastics and Gale after all. 

But eventually, Bucky managed to push all that aside and try his hand at instigating a real, open discussion about what him on tour would look like and what precautions he’d take. They held onto each others’ hands and Bucky told Gale what he wanted, what he needed. Gale laid out his concerns, but also reiterated his overall support of Bucky’s career. And they talked. And listened. And Bucky never knew how good healthy communication could feel before. 

Gale was also there every step of the way as Bucky healed, rehabbed, and then started getting back into the gym again just about two months ago. He was there for the ups and downs, running to help Bucky stand back up when he fell, cheering him on with every forward step. 

He never gave up on Bucky. 

He’s proud of you, you know. 

“I know,” Bucky says to Croz. He thinks he might even believe it. 

“Alright, you’ll get to play with your boy toy later,” Curt jokes. He grabs Bucky’s hand and hauls him to his feet. “Come on, you’re up.”

Bucky has to admit, performing his big comeback number – which he’s come to think of as his “I’m back bitch” number – is incredibly cathartic. He wanted to perform to Elton John’s “The Bitch Is Back,” but the production team said it wasn’t “family friendly” enough. 

No fun.

The number starts out with a dark stadium, and there’s a video on the big screen as he gets himself to the center of the floor. It shows a few highlights of his career, his Championship wins, his best Olympic moments, him goofing off with Curt and Croz in the gym. A recording of his voice plays over it, something about how, at some point, everyone faces seemingly insurmountable obstacles, or comes to a crossroads that might determine the course of their life. 

“…In my case, an injury that should have ended my career.”

Every night, Bucky stands in the middle of the floor, dimly illuminated by the light of the big screen. He doesn’t really even know what he says in the video, doesn’t remember. He hasn’t listened to it since it was first recorded, and he blocks it out night after night, except for the end.

He swallows thickly and looks up, sees a clip of his horrifying fall off high bar, cut before he hits the ground. Then a clip of him collapsing after rings back in August, unable to rise. Every night, it makes his heart beat too fast, makes the blood rush in his ears, just for a moment. But then every night, he hears his own voice, smooth and confident: “We rise to the occasion, no matter how hard it might be. We don’t give up, because giving up is not in our nature…”

There’s video clips of his recovery, after both incidents. Videos of him doing painful rehab after high bar. Videos of him back in the gym after rings. A shaky clip of him laughing after landing a tumbling pass again for the first time, running right to the cameraman for a hug.

Gale. He’s running to Gale. 

And it makes Bucky’s heart soar.

The video ends.

John Egan is a guy that likes attention, so standing, feet shoulder-width apart and hands on his hips like a superhero, in the middle of a dark arena as lights flash wildly around him and the beginnings of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck plays is very on brand for him. The flashing lights cast his shadow, long and fleeting, across the floor in all different directions until, finally, they light up and stay on, spotlighting him from all sides. He lets the wild grin overtake his face, pushes back against the pit in his stomach, the buzzing in his head. He shoves all the adrenaline he feels into this moment. He puts both hands in the air in a salute, as if he’s at a competition, and then he launches into a tumbling pass that has the crowd going wild. 

The original plan was for him to do a whole floor routine, but he’s trying to save his leg as much as he can, so he does his big opening pass and lands on an extra mat that the techs positioned in the corner, then he does a few easier passes before the lights fade out on him. A spotlight pops up over the high bar, where Curt jumps up and does a few giants, a couple release moves. Then there’s Croz on parallel bars. Alex on pommel. Brady on floor. Then to finish, Bucky jumps up on high bar, the apparatus that tried to break him, just to prove a point. He does a couple of easier releases before jumping off, a single flip, nothing fancy.

It gets him a deafening round of applause anyway.

The Thunderstruck number, every night, drives a range of emotions through Bucky like a truck, for better or for worse. It shoves salt in old wounds, forces him to relive some of his worst moments. And yet it feels so damn good, in a way, just to show people – “hey, I’m here. I’m still fighting. I’m not giving up.” Just to tell them – “if you’re fighting your own uphill battle, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. You don’t have to give up.”

So yeah, it’s cathartic. It makes him feel powerful. It makes him feel in control. It makes him feel like he did something right, at the end of the day. 

But he much prefers the more lighthearted parts of their show anyway. The ideas that spawned from a bunch of friends goofing off in a gym between practices. The ones that show their personalities and let them be silly and let them be a little stupid and let them be human instead of just athletes. 

There’s a Texas Hold ‘Em number where the guys and girls all dress up in cowboy hats, the guys in white shirts and jeans and the girls in sparkly leos. 

There’s some absolutely badass dance numbers from the girls, which Bucky loves watching. They’re full of attitude and confidence that makes him a little jealous. 

Then there’s the girls’ rendition of Pink by Lizzo followed by the guys’ take on I’m Just Ken. All the guys on tour get to wear neon tank tops and shorts as they animatedly jog out onto the floor. Nearly all of them spread out and start doing stupid exercise motions: Bucky pretends to lift weights while Brady does push ups, Croz does jumping jacks, Alex does sit ups, and the others pretend to box or jog in place or something.

Meanwhile, a spotlight illuminates Curt over on the balance beam, an apparatus that none of the guys have a clue about. He stands on it, all wobbly but exuding confidence, and he salutes a judge that isn’t there before trying out some of the girls’ skills. A wolf turn, a switch leap, a side aerial. Night after night he fails pretty miserably, sometimes nearly falling off the beam all together. He gets a lot of laughs from the audience before doing a pretty pathetic dismount and running to meet the other Kens on the floor, where they join hands and passionately sing the end of the song.

Every night, none of them can keep themselves from laughing, and they often nearly mess up their choreography, tripping over themselves and trying not to double over from the ridiculousness. Usually, that’s Bucky’s favorite number to perform.

But not tonight.

“So here’s the thing, DC,” he says into his mic as he comes out from backstage, passing the girls as they exit. He walks across the floor, back in his white tee and jeans instead of his Ken fit. “We’re gonna do something a bit different tonight. ‘Cause not only is this place my home, but it’s actually my lucky day, ‘cause a special someone is in the crowd tonight. You may be able to see him, right up here in the front row where I can look at his pretty face.” He points to Gale, who’s sitting in one of the best seats in the house, just feet from the spring floor. The man in question rolls his eyes as Bucky stops at the edge of the floor, right in front of him. Beside him, Marge laughs and shoves his shoulder. Benny reaches over and ruffles his hair. 

“What’d’ya say we bring him up here?” Bucky asks the crowd.

Gale shakes his head as if he has a choice. As if they didn’t literally rehearse this earlier today. He didn’t have a choice then, either. 

“Yep, come on, beautiful.” Bucky holds his hand out expectantly, until finally, after a very pointed I hate you glare and a long-suffering sigh, Gale takes his hand, stands up, and lets Bucky lead him onto the floor. 

The camera locks onto them immediately, showing them on the big screen for the entire arena to see. Gale is dressed in dark jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a worn leather jacket, looking as perfect as ever with his messy hair and beautiful… everything. 

Usually, the next number would be a delicate, choreographed dance combined with some skill demonstrations. A love story. Literally, it’s choreographed to Taylor Swift’s “Love Story.” On a normal night, it consists of Bucky, Brady, and Croz each dancing with one of the lovely dancers they have on tour with them. The story-telling choreography is interspersed with the guys showing off some basic skills on parallel bars, high bar, and pommel horse. 

Tonight, Bucky’s dance partner gets this number off. He felt a little bad asking her if that would be okay, but the moment he explained what he wanted to do, she all but threw herself out of the mix for this one show. 

“Yes. Do that. You have to do that,” she insisted. 

And so Gale, even before he knew the plan, didn’t really have a choice. 

Gale Cleven’s moment of fame at the Paris Olympics turned into a bit more than a moment. He’s had companies fighting to sponsor him, wanting to throw him into commercials and ads all over the place. Despite his lack of interest in social media, his following has skyrocketed. Little kids are getting into horseback riding because of him. People remain obsessed with the “Clegan” love story, and they always comment on Bucky’s videos asking about Gale.

This crowd, packed with people of all ages from 3 to 93, loves him just as much. They go absolutely nuts when the camera focuses on him as he takes Bucky’s hand and they walk over to the pommel horse. “Give it up everyone!” Bucky yells into his mic. “Gale Cleven, Olympic silver medalist, your local equestrian legend, and my lovely, amazing boyfriend.”

They’re in a stadium filled with thousands of people, but the only person that can see Gale’s blush is Bucky. 

Bucky helps Gale hop up onto the pommel horse as the lights around them dim and a spotlight shines on the parallel bars to their left. The song begins to play out over the arena: “We were both young when I first saw you…”

Gale watches Croz and his partner start their dance around the base of the parallel bars. He got to watch during their rehearsal earlier today, but now he’s pulled away by the feeling of a hand wrapping over his hip. He glances over at Bucky, and his breath catches. 

They wait in the darkness for their part of the song, and as they sit together on the pommel horse, Bucky’s eyes are locked on him, even in the dim light. Shadows flit across their faces, eyes reflecting fleeting teases of the light flickering around them. Bucky has a strong arm wrapped securely around Gale, supporting his back.

He leans in close to whisper, “I’m glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure…”

Gale’s hand finds Bucky’s free one. “Don’t tell me you thought I wouldn’t come.”

Bucky shrugs. Because part of him did think that, no matter how ridiculous he knew it was. They’ve been video calling every other day since he went on tour, but it doesn’t compare to the surety of having Gale in his arms. Before Gale can say anything else, though, the lights start to rise around them at the end of the first chorus. 

“So I sneak out to the garden to see you…”

They stay sitting at first, Gale leaning into Bucky’s hold while Bucky points up at the ceiling, acting like they’re stargazing. They smile and laugh before Gale jumps off the pommel horse, still holding Bucky’s hand, and walks around to the other side, leading Bucky into a backflip off the horse.

Typically, Bucky’s part of this number is far more choreographed, seeing as his partner is usually a professional dancer. Gale Cleven… is not a dancer. So they have to improvise a little bit. Bucky’s decided it’s fine: what the audience loses in terms of seeing competent dancing, they gain in terms of seeing a real love story.

At the part that says ‘so close your eyes,’ Gale spins so his back is to Bucky, and Bucky’s hands cover his eyes. Instead of the usual sequence Bucky and his partner would do, involving lifts, rolls, dips, what have you, he simply twirls Gale around before kissing him softly – to cheers from the crowd. He takes both of Gale’s hands in his, and they spin around together, laughing the whole time as the camera records it all for the big screen.

Later, he’ll come across a video of this moment on social media, and he’ll save it to his favorites, to watch when he has a bad day.

He grabs Gale by the waist and lifts him easily up onto the end of the pommel horse, and he walks around to the other side as Gale spins around to meet him. Bucky takes his hand, kisses his knuckles gently, and helps him down again. Then Gale jogs off into the shadows, leaving Bucky to hop onto the apparatus to do some circles and flairs. 

He comes back as Bucky dismounts, and they grab onto each other’s hands from opposite sides of the pommel horse, looking into each others’ eyes. Then comes the only real original choreography that Gale agreed to do: drawing from his equestrian experience, he grabs onto the pommel and, in one swift motion, throws his leg up over the end of the pommel horse, as if he’s mounting a real horse. Bucky comes around behind him, and Gale draws his knees up so he can be lifted off the horse bridal style.

Gale can’t help but laugh as Bucky spins him around once, twice before setting him on his feet. They end up standing in front of the apparatus, pointing to the imagined sky once again as the lights around them fade out.

Cast in partial shadow as Brady and his partner dance around the high bar, they hold onto one another and spin slowly in circles, a twirl thrown in here and there. Gale whispers things like “you owe me” and Bucky replies “please, don’t act like you’re not having fun.”

“Dancing in front of thousands of people is a little outta my comfort zone.”

“They love you,” Bucky says, genuinely. Because they do.

At the end of the song, all three pairs come together on the spring floor. Bucky lifts and spins Gale one more time, and at the very end, when the other pairs look like they might kiss but stop just short, Gale is the one to lean in that last inch or two, kissing Bucky in front of thousands of people.

“Je t’aime,” he whispers as he pulls away, and it makes Bucky freeze. Je t’aime. I love you.

Whenever he hears those words, his mind still flashes to that day when he stormed Gale’s barn to declare his love after the Games were over. They’ve said it since, of course, but not often. It still feels… New. Special. Scary.

And yet Bucky wants to shout it into a hot mic for this entire stadium to hear. He won’t, but only because he knows Gale won’t like it.

And because the sound techs learned the hard way to triple check that Bucky Egan’s mic isn’t hot.

So his heart hammers in his chest as he looks into Gale’s eyes. Croz and Brady are already walking off into the shadows with their partners, but John and Gale remain center stage, Gale’s arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck and Bucky’s hands holding firmly to Gale’s waist. Like they belong there. The roar of the crowd is deafening, but all Bucky hears are Gale’s words echoing in his head.

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

He lifts a hand to cup Gale’s jaw, stroking a thumb over his flushed cheek. “I love you,” he says back, and he kind of can’t believe he had such a hard time saying it before. 

He’s on tour with some of the best gymnasts in the world, performing every night in front of thousands and thousands of fans. He’s got several Olympic medals to his name. His leg, while still not a sure thing, has healed well enough to let him do this. To have fun with his friends in the most extravagant way. To make him really believe that he might have another Olympic season left in him.

And all of that… it’s the stuff he’s hoped for since he was a kid.

It’s all enough to make him wonder if he’s dreaming sometimes. But right now, he has this moment. Right now, above all else, it’s the way Gale smiles at him that puts him on cloud nine, makes him think he did something right.

It’s that soft, just-for-him smile that lights up his world and makes him feel like he can do anything. He wants to be the reason for that smile for the rest of his life.

So he smiles back, and he says it again. “I love you.”

…

…

Here’s a shitty video of the real Love Story number

[thisapplepielife]

WIGGLY 🧠🪱 WEDNESDAY

I was tagged last week by @mugloversonly, @runninriot & @dreamwatch - thank you all! I just didn't have anything until now! But this morning I had some brainworms take over.

Today I'm thinking about:

Eddie Munson. Famous Musician. In his late 40s or early 50s. And he's somehow been tapped to be a color commentator at the Olympics. He doesn't know shit about sports. Especially not some of these non-mainstream ones he's never even seen before. But he's well-known for his big personality, and even bigger mouth. Dude loves to yap. So, he's decided to go all in. Have fun. He can give his opinion, even if that opinion is 100% wrong. He can cheer his ass off, even if he doesn't understand all the rules. Like, would Eddie Munson not love learning the word shuttlecock? Would he not say it 5000 times on-air until the FCC censors were like, dude? We know it's legitimately the right word. But. No more. And the audience falls in love with him. He's the Olympic mascot nobody expected, but is now grateful that they have on-screen, because he's being so damn fun. Who else falls in love with him? Steve Harrington. Former Olympian, also there to do actual expert color commentary, and is just sucked in by this character of a man, having a fucking ball.

Yes. I'm an Olympaholic. And yes, I'm and digging the fuck out of Snoop's contagious joy at being involved. If you haven't seen it: Snoop giving commentary on badminton.

No pressure tags: @steddieas-shegoes, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @wynnyfryd, @thefreakandthehair and anybody else having thoughts you want to share, consider yourself tagged!! 🧠🪱