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purplekiwis · 1 year

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Summary: It's no secret that as a figure skater, you're fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty... and your ex's status as a player isn't helping much either.

Genre: Exes to Lovers (Enemies to Lovers if you blink 😉)

Warnings: it's angsty and smutty

Wordcount: 8K

A/N: i'd like to thank @sucker4angstt for requesting this concept! it was a blast to work on and i hope you guys have as much fun reading it as i had writing it 🤍

THIS IS A 2 PART SERIES | PART 2 IS HERE ❄️

OTHER WORKS BY ME

“You wanna do black again? Didn’t we do that last time?” Niall inquired as he switched off the car’s ignition.

You had just shown him a dress you had found the night before in hopes he would like it, but as you had already been expecting, he claimed black was boring and wouldn't stand out among the competition. “Well, yes but this one’s a different style from the last one. It would go well with our song.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try something new sometimes, you know? Like white or blue… perhaps even red?” He suggested as he removed both your skating bags from the trunk and placed them down by his feet.

You hid a sigh while you took your bag from him. It never got easier to admit that you had to consider the price before picking the costume. For whatever reason, there was always a hint of embarrassment associated to that admission. Needless to say you would also prefer to wear a bright colored outfit with lots of glitter and transparencies, but those were simply out of reach for your budget.

“We did red once already, that time we did Moulin Rouge.” You reminded him as you walked side by side, each of you steering your own carryon.

“Hm, that’s true. I’d forgotten about that.”

You hadn’t been lucky enough to land a parking spot right at the front of the sports centre that morning, which sucked big time given how chilly it was outside. Getting up early for practice was never fun, but during the winter months it got almost unbearable. Especially when the sky was all hazy and mostly black by the time you woke up.

“How would you feel about like, a nude?” You proposed, despite the fact that you weren't really fond of the color.

“From you?” Niall sniggered. “Thanks but I think I’ll have to pass.”

“Come on, can't you be serious for like 2 seconds? This is important.” You huffed, pretending like you hadn’t found his little joke amusing. “Also, um... I know this is probably like super annoying for you but my budget’s kinda tight right now, so if you’d be willing to repeat one of our previous outfits, that would be awesome.”

Niall laughed a bit. “Stop with that nonsense, will you? It's not annoying and of course I don't mind. Sides, it's not like it'll even matter what we wear. We'll do so well that the judges won't even think to pay attention to our outfits.” He then turned to you and stated, “...That being said, I still don't want to wear black again.”

“Aff, fine.” You grumbled. “Which one do you want to wear then?”

“Hm.. I dunno, actually.” He took a moment to reflect. “How about we just start naming them until we find one we both agree on?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Ready?” He asked, you nodded. “1, 2, 3…”

“Pink.”

“Turquoise.”

“Navy.”

“Green”

“Orange.” You said it in unison, but your faces immediately turned down in distaste after. “Nevermind the orange. I still don't know what we were thinking when we picked those.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You admitted through a deep breath in. “I’d be fine with the green though, as long as it's the dark one.”

“Make it the medium dark, and it’s settled.”

You reached an agreement right as you were approaching the entrance of the sports centre, where some figure skaters you had grown familiar with over the years were gathering. Surprisingly, neither unpacking nor warming up.

“Are you guys all done already?” You asked them as you dashed towards your usual warm-up area. It was spacious and had a canopy that kept you dry in case it rained. “I didn’t realize we were late...” You earned Niall's judgmental stare with your sentence. He had been rushing you all morning, but you were sure you weren't that late. As far as your calculations were concerned, you were just in time for your first warm-up.

In days like these, it was always very tempting to skimp on the off the ice warm-ups and go straight to the rink, but with the championship right around the corner, neither you nor Niall would take that risk. Because although you also competed individually, it was as a pair that you really stood out. Your journey to nationals depended on you both, and you weren't going to jeopardize all that for being too lazy to stretch.

“Don’t bother starting.” One of the skaters, Natalia, intervened when she realized what the two of you were up to. “The Emperors booked early morning.” She clarified, upon noticing your perplexed looks.

“They did what-” You gasped, all the more startled.

“They can’t do that.” Niall said after you, and the look on his face was as distressed as yours. “They already take up most of the rink’s time!”

“When their stupid coach came we tried to tell him that, but he refused to listen. He didn't even pause- just walked straight through as if we weren't here.” The new skater jumped into the conversation. You hadn't officially met her yet, but you knew her name was Mei, a.k.a the girl Niall had been crushing on for weeks.

Redness engulfed his cheeks as soon as she looked his way, but he still managed to respond, albeit stutteringly. “Yeah, I'm not too surprised… Y/N’s ex plays on the team and he always used to say the guy was a moron.” You pointed out Niall’s oversharing by flashing him a chastising look, but he was too engrossed in Mei's beauty to notice your death stare.

You cleared your throat, now feeling a touch hot in the face too, before turning to the remainder of the group, “Have you spoken to couch Jo or Paul? Aren't they supposed to come teach the kids right after we leave?”

“Yeah.” Natalia sighed. “Apparently they’ve had to rescheduled some of the skating classes but nothing much. Basically it's fine for everyone but us.”

“So what time can we come now?” The Emperors could have taken your place, but surely they had to have left a gap somewhere.

“That’s the thing.” Mei explained. “There’s no time apart from the lessons we have with our coaches. A spot is available in the afternoon, but that's just not feasible for anyone.”

“What? No! How’s that even allowed?” Your question was hardly noticed by the other skaters as they were preparing to leave. "Wait- Where are all of you off to? We can’t just leave; have to solve this.”

“What do you propose we do, then?” Mei groaned. She was clearly on edge, as was everyone else in the group. “We’ve already tried. We won't get to solve anything right now, so staying here is a waste of time.” She grabbed her skating bag off the floor. “You can still try if you want, though. Didn’t you used to mess around with one of them? Maybe he could help.”

You scoffed as you watched Mei leave with the rest of the group, “Unbelievable...” You commented with Niall, only to find him looking at you like he agreed with her. "Oh no, not you siding with her. Are you kidding me?”

“I mean, she’s got a point…” As he went on, a goofy smile spread over his face. “I can't believe she actually spoke to me. This is crazy... and she’s even hotter up close…” Rolling your eyes, you started gathering both your bags in a tacit plea to leave. “Please, Y/N... can you go talk to him? I don't wanna stop seeing her now that she's speaking to us.”

You took a long, deep breath.

You really weren't in the mood to do all that, but unfortunately your ex happened to play team captain for the hockey team... so perhaps, if you could flip the tables and get him to be on your side, there was a small possibility his opinion could give you some advantage when it came to straightening everything out.

That was what you needed to remind yourself of.

There was a deeper purpose to this than Niall's desire to speak with Mei. It was important for everyone. None of you could afford to miss practice now that the championship was about to start. The time you spent practicing with your instructors was good but having time to skate freely every morning was critical.

“Fine. I'll go, but you’re coming with me.”

You had wanted Niall to come along for the emotional support, but that idea was quickly scrapped once the centre’s receptionist, who was acting a lot more standoffish than usual, refused to let you walk past the front desk.

It occurred to you that his behavior might have something to do with how Mei and the rest of the skaters handled that morning’s dreadful news. If that was the case, his mood was about to get worse because you were planning to bring up the issue as well… until Niall stepped in, “Oh, we're not here to skate. We’re here because my friend thinks she dropped her bracelet on her way out of the rink yesterday. We just wanted to see if we can find it.”

“I have orders not to let anyone in right now. If you want, you can come by after eight to look for it.” He answered monotonously, his gaze fixed on the computer screen.

“Ah, we have school at eight; we can't come at that time I'm afraid.” Niall’s revelation elicited no response. So, after a moment of awkward stares, you continued,

“If we don't go now, someone else might find and keep it.” The man’s expression told you that he thought you were being a nuisance, but you kept playing by Niall’s script and added, “The bracelet was a gift from my mother. It has a lot of sentimental value...”

Finally, just as you were beginning to lose hope, he sighed and said, “If it's just the bracelet you're looking for I'll let you go find it, but he stays.” His head motion indicated that he was referring to Niall.

“I’m sure it would be easier if we searched together...”

The man sat back with a sigh. “Look, it’s nothing personal. I'm simply doing what I've been told by one of the coaches after he got harassed by your little squad at the door… which is not to let anyone in the rink while the boys are there. I'm already making an exception for you when I shouldn't, so it’s either this or you'll come back later.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t been informed that the hockey coaches were now in charge of the place...” He ignored your provocation, but his gaze was drawn to the agitated tapping of your nails on the counter. “You know what, it's fine. I get it. I’ll be quick, oh- and don't worry, I'll be careful not to harass the local royalty while I’m there.”

You didn’t stick around for further verbal cues, just swiped your membership card, walked past the barrier and turned toward the rink. It was only after you got there that you realized how angry you were. Knowing that the hockey team was being treated like kings and given the freedom to do whatever and however they pleased with zero regard for anyone else was one of the most infuriating things you'd ever witnessed. It wasn't exactly surprising taken they always got prioritized for being the bigger sport, but they had never taken things this far before. This situation was ridiculous, and you weren't going to tolerate it.

So although you agreed to come speak with your ex, now you were actually hoping to speak directly with the coach instead. Maybe your efforts were in vain, but you had to, at least, try to get your point across. There was only one problem - he was nowhere to be found, and you didn’t know anyone else on the team well enough to ask on his whereabouts.

Speaking of the team, the guys were dressed in practice gear, which was far more basic than their game jersey’s, but still had the same colors of red and gold. You assumed they hadn't started properly training yet, as they were still warming up with crossovers and pivots.

Among the many broad-shouldered athletes there, your eyes were immediately drawn to the player whose number you knew best: 77.

Not that you’d ever need a number to identify him.

Even with hockey armor covering his frame, you knew his body’s contours like the back of your hand. Picturing the tousled curls hidden under his helmet, the green of his eyes, and the curvature of his lips was easy. A little too easy.

“Styles,”

He turned when he heard your voice. His eyes were obscured by the visor, but you could swear you saw his brows quirk. “Y/N,” He didn't look too surprised by your presence. In fact, he looked more amused at you yelling his name than at you being there.

After a few seconds of skating by he came closer, and as he stopped next to the board, his skates scratched the ice a little too harshly for someone who wasn't aiming to make a spectacle of himself. You weren't wowed by his effort. You could execute that same slide better and with greater polish if you wanted to.

“Where’s your coach? I’d like to have a word…”

He signaled the rooms on the top level with his head. “Up there in a meeting. Why, what do you want from him?”

“Not that it's any of your business but it looks like there’s an issue with the rink’s scheduling.”

You saw the grin he was trying to hide. “Oh, what’s that?”

“The skaters had it for 6am, as usual.” You attempted to highlight. “Ergo, you shouldn't be here.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

“I don't think we would be here if you had booked it, would we? If we took the spot, it was because it was available.”

“Well yeah, because we’ve never had to book it - because we had a spoken agreement and we’ve always followed through on it.” He didn't respond, nor did he appear very willing to engage in the conversation you were trying to have. “Are you listening to me?”

“I am,” His voice felt harsh and didn't quite fit the easy stance he showed as he shrugged. “I'm just not sure of what you want me to say – I’m sorry? Does that make you feel any better?”

His cynical tone didn't sit well in your stomach, but your face didn’t let that show. “Okay, look - I get it. You’re in the league and you need to practice, but that doesn’t give you the right to take early mornings from us. It's only two hours out of the entire day, couldn't you just let us keep them?”

He appeared somewhat bored by your approach, but not completely. His facial expression had an edge to it. He was irritated. “It wasn’t me who made the call. If you want to lash out at someone, try the guy at the front-desk or whatever. I can't help you.”

He was really starting to piss you off, but worse than that, there was a part of you that was getting legitimately hurt by his indifference. He used to be one of your biggest supporters, and now it was like he simply didn't care. “Even if it wasn't you who made the decision, you knew better than anybody that this would disrupt our practice and you still didn't say anything.”

“Why would I? Wasn't it you who just said it's none of my business? If you have an issue, it’s your place to handle it - not mine.”

“Harry, your stupid team already takes up most of the rink’s time! Our qualifying season starts in two weeks, we need to practice.”

“Well, I'm not sure if the news has reached your self-centered little world yet but our season has already started, and we have big games coming up. So sorry to break it to you but we're going to take all the extra rink time we can get.”

“Not unless I can’t do something about it.” Your implied threat was meaningless. You had no plan whatsoever... apart from the original one to get on Harry’s good side, which had just been blown. You'd figure something out though, anything to ensure they wouldn't get their way. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

He got closer, coming right up to your face as he leaned over the border and uttered one last, quiet “Gladly,” before skating away to rejoin his team.

The bleachers were packed by screaming fans in replica shirts.

The big day had come. The Emperors were playing their first home game of the season and as the concentration of bodies suggested, a considerable portion of people had come out to witness it firsthand… including you and Niall.

After what the fuckers had done to you, you almost felt like a traitor for showing up to their game. However, you had purchased tickets weeks ago and since you had spent the money, you figured you might as well come and root for them to lose. That worked for a while, until they actually started losing.

As soon as the visiting team scored a goal, it became impossible to disguise who your heart was really rooting for. The Emperors were jackasses, that was beyond dispute, but they were the local team and it was hard to cheer for strangers when the other players were people you had “known” for years.

“You haven’t touched your pretzel…”

Niall's comment drew your gaze away from the game for a millisecond. “I don’t want it right now, I’m not hungry.” Your reply came out garbled due to the way your cheeks were getting smothered between your hands.

“It’s gonna go cold if you don’t eat it now...”

“You’re right. Here- you can have it.”

“You sure?” His hesitant smile expanded when he heard a fragmented “Yes” fall from your mouth. The “Thanks,” that followed was mumbled around a large bite. “Oh man, this is nothing like the hot dogs they sell here.” He chewed as he spoke, “Have you ever had one? They always put sauerkraut on them and it’s like, who even likes sauerkraut that much, you know what I mean?”

“Mhm,” you hummed again, eyes fixed on the local team captain and the player battling him for the puck. "Get off his ass, shithead." you blurted as another player floated over and pushed him against the board. It was the same player who kept harassing him throughout the first two frames of the game. There had already been insults, menacing stares, and provoking shoves exchanged. This wasn’t going to end well.

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, don’t you?” Niall asked after a lengthy pause in conversation, what caught you off guard.

“Don’t have to do what? Eat sauerkraut?” You questioned back, a little confused.

“Get nervous for the games.” He clarified, which sort of took you by surprise. You weren't aware that your feelings were showing that clearly. “Since, you know… you and Styles aren’t a thing anymore and all. You don’t have to get all anxious over him.”

Your focus immediately diverted from the rink as a result of Niall’s remark. “This isn’t about him, Niall. It’s about the game- I want us to win.”

“Uh huh… because of your deep love for hockey, I assume.” His face lit up with laughter. “Not any of the players in particular, just the sport itself.”

“Shut up- Oh, that son of a... oh, great! Now he's starting a fight...” You muttered inwardly once you saw Harry's gloves hit the ice first, followed by the other player's.

The initial strikes to the head sent the helmets flying. Thereafter, it was all direct blows. The two boys faced each other angrily as they dodged and struck each other with bare hands and faces. The crowd roared loudly as the violence between the two players increased. “God, I hate when they fight.” You admitted, despite it being nothing new. “Why does it always take the referees so long to split them?”

“Ah, well, you know that's how the game works. The crowd loves it.”

“No, I know that but… it’s barbaric.”

The other player’s left hand was gripping Harry's jersey as if he was going to rip it apart, while the right continued to strike jabs in his stomach. But Harry didn't cut loose; he whacked him with the same force. They both went down, and just like that there was blood on the ice. A laceration over Harry's eyebrow had resulted in what looked like a crimson mask covering his face, most likely caused by his helmet’s visor as it leapt out of his head.

As the boys hit the floor the referees finally intervened and broke up the fight.

But the two were back on the ice as if nothing had happened after spending five minutes in the penalty box. Harry’s cut was no longer bleeding, but the bloodied towel he left behind served as a solid memento.

“I swear my Nan is more flexible than you.” You teased Niall as he tried to strike the mermaid pose. He was struggling, so his tongue was sticking out.

“You can't compare your Nan's yoga to mine. She's been doing it for longer than I've been alive!” He grumbled as he attempted to move his elbow to the proper position by imitating your posture. “I’ll have you know though, that I've never had any complaints on my flexibility before. In fact, it’s what I usually get the most compliments on aside from my-”

“Shhhh.” You were shushed by the yoga instructor for speaking over the soothing music.

You had never taken a yoga class before but considering your time on the rink had been compromised, you figured it might be a good idea to give it a shot since it still allowed you to practice your balance and flexibility.

You'd gotten cocky and chosen advanced yoga, assuming it wouldn't be too difficult to keep up given your figure skating background. Big, big mistake. You were living it up at first… however, as the class progressed and poses like 'the crow' and 'the flying pigeon' began to appear, you found yourselves admiring everyone rather than trying to keep up.

As a result, you were only doing the same five poses over and over, which got boring really quick. Besides, you weren’t even mastering the intermediate ones... as Niall was struggling with flexibility, while you were having trouble with all the arm strength exercises. That was when you started to get chatty, even though you were well aware that it wasn't appropriate.

You'd already been told to be quiet twice, so when your phone went off in the middle of class you didn't hesitate to roll up your mats and leave, figuring you had already caused enough disturbance.

“We'll never be allowed back there again...” Niall remarked on the way to the locker rooms. “Did you see how she looked at us when your phone rang? That wasn’t very Yin and Yang of her…”

“Well… to be fair, we were being incredibly rude...” You checked your phone for the notification you had received during class. “Speaking of rude, you won't believe who was texting me just now…”

“Who?” He realized who you were referring to when you made a face and pointed your head toward the rink. The yoga classes were held in the same section, the one dedicated to indoor sports. Despite being on opposite ends, you knew the hockey team was there because you had passed by and heard them. “No way... are you serious? What did he say? Does it have anything to do with the rink?”

“He didn't say... just asked if I could meet him at that cafe we used to go to after class. He says it’s urgent.”

“Do you need a ride? I can drop you off on the way back from class; it's close by.”

“No, don't worry. I end class earlier than you today, so I can take the shuttle like I used to.” You were guessing Harry had remembered you had a similar school schedule on Fridays, which is why he didn't bother telling you a time. He knew you would be there by 3pm... supposedly. “I don’t know if I’m going, though… I don’t know what he wants.”

“Yes you are.” Niall asserted, as if the idea of you not going was the most insane thing ever. “What if it’s something to do the rink?”

“What if it’s nothing to do with the rink?”

“No, come on… it has to have something to do with it.” He insisted. “I know you want to go; you're just nervous about seeing him.”

“No, the only reason why I am nervous is because he isn’t telling me what he wants. It's weird.”

Niall paused for a moment as you reached the door for the women’s locker rooms. His face let you know he was debating whether or not to tell you what was on his mind. He decided to do so. “It's obviously up to you whether you go or not, but if I were you I’d go just to see what he wants. You don't have to sit there all afternoon if you don't want to... and if things get too awkward, you can text me and I'll show up there to save you.”

“Right.” You replied even though you knew it wasn't the most appropriate answer.

You realized it would be stupid not to go knowing it could be about the rink. There was a good chance it was, which was supposed to get you excited, but in reality was doing the exact opposite. Selfishly, you wanted this to be about you and nothing else.

As petty as it sounds, you wanted to get there and hear Harry admit that he missed you, that karma had gotten him good, or something else that made you feel like your suffering had been worthwhile even if you were never getting back together. That was why you were afraid to go… because you would be disappointed if he looked as fine as he did last time.

“Does that mean you're going?” Niall asked, cutting through the pitiful thoughts racing through your mind.

You chewed on your lower lip. “I guess.”

You saw him as soon as you walked into the cafe.

He was sitting alone, but there was a girl “standing” next to his table. To refer to that as plain standing would be inaccurate. You knew what she was doing, and most of all you knew what for.

She was showcasing the best she had to offer. That was why her hips were pushed back, and her gut was pinched so firmly.

She fixed her hair over her shoulder, and you got a glimpse of her face. She was hot enough to get you to stand up straighter, but not to make you wonder if you should have spent more time getting ready before coming.

You stayed back and waited for their interaction to be over. For you, this was nothing new. You’d grown so used to watching girls fawning over him that it rarely made you jealous anymore, despite it always being slightly unpleasant to witness.

The bright side was that experience taught you when to worry… and now wasn't the time.

She appeared to be asking a question about game tickets, but you could tell by the look on Harry's face that he wasn't all that interested in chatting with her. He looked like he wanted to be left alone. He was doing that thing that he used to do when random people approached him back when you were together - he smiled politely but barely said a word.

It took the girl some time to catch on, but eventually she got the hint. He wasn’t interested, and no amount of flashing her cleavage would change his mind. She stepped away, and you took it as your cue to walk over.

“Hey.” You greeted as you got to the table, hurrying to remove your scarf and jacket before you took the chair facing Harry’s. Not that there was any other option to pick, anyway.

“Hi.” He smiled slightly, before pushing one of the coffee cups on the table towards you. “I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered you a drink...”

His gesture brought you back to memories frozen in time, but you didn't allow yourself to linger on them too long. You and Harry used to meet at this coffee shop all the time. In fact, it was once one of your favorite places in town but being here now only brought back sensations you'd rather avoid. Still, for the sake of politeness, you accepted his drink. “Oh, um… thanks. You didn't have to get me anything...”

“I know I didn’t.” He took a sip of his cup, and you impulsively mimicked his action. The coffee which used to taste like love, suddenly seemed almost too dull to drink. “You still like those, right?”

You wondered if he had noticed your grimace. “Yeah, it's what I always used to get from here. I'm surprised you remember…”

“I guess I haven't had enough time to forget most things about you yet.” A twinge of discomfort shot through your chest at his words. You suspect he caused it on purpose. “I have a sharp memory.”

“I'm not sure that'll last if you keep hitting your head like that.” Your point was lost on him, which kind of made you regret making it in the first place. “You've got a bruise… on your...”

“Oh, that.” He tried to mask it with a quick ruffle of his hair, but you could still see it. “That's nothing, forget about it.”

“I wouldn't exactly call it nothing, when-”

“I didn’t ask you to come here to talk about that.” He intervened before you finished. “There’s something I need from you.” He admitted, crossing his arms over the table.

“'All right then, what is it?”

“That jersey I gave you, do you still have it?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I need it back.” His request caught you completely off guard. Your mouth opened and tried to speak, but nothing came out. “Mine got ripped and the spare I gave you is the only one I have left.”

When you finally spoke, it was quickly and angrily. “I'm not giving it back.” You said, and Harry let out a groan. “You never mentioned I was only allowed to keep it until you needed it back. It looked like a gift to me.”

Another sigh followed, this time deeper and more frustrated. “That’s because it was a gift… but now I need it, and I'm pretty sure you're not wearing it, so what difference does it make?”

You crossed your arms and shook your head. “You can't ask for gifts back, that's nasty.”

Why, of all things, did he have to ask you to give back his jersey? It was the most special gift he had ever given you. And now just because he never got to see you wear it, it automatically meant you didn't care for it?

That was simply not true!

Behind closed doors, his jersey was still a favorite.

Frankly, the only reason why you stopped wearing it during games was because you thought it would be demeaning not to. It would have been weird for everyone, plus you didn't think Harry would appreciate you walking around with his number on your back when you weren't together anymore.

Not that people thinking he had a girlfriend would have been enough to keep any hookups from happening if he wanted them to. When it came to Harry, it seemed nothing was ever enough to discourage girls from trying their luck. It wasn't just because he played on the hockey team. That was a bonus, but it was insignificant compared to the rest. His looks, his character, his sense of humor… from the surface, Harry looked like a catch, and finding that he was everything but, hurt. You still loved him, so it hurt. You hated how it all still hurt.

“I'm not asking for any of the other stuff back. I'm asking for my jersey because I desperately need it; else, I wouldn't be asking.” He explained as you sat there, feeling your chest squeeze as you half-listened to his reasoning. “Please Y/N, this is sort of critical for me.”

His slightly pouted lips suggested that he had also not forgotten how to sneak his way inside your heart. It wasn't a difficult task, but it was aggravating how well it still worked.

The worst part is that he didn't even do it on purpose; it was just the way his face looked whenever he wanted something and was told no. It was the same face that managed to get your panties to come off that one time right before a game, despite your fear of getting caught.

“Fine. I'll give your stupid jersey back,” When he smiled in relief, you halted your words, but only for a moment. “Under one condition.” His nostrils flared as he took a long breath, gearing himself up for what you were about to say next. “You'll have to convince your coach to give us our ice time back, otherwise you can forget it.”

“Y/N, can we not do this right now, please? I already told you that I had nothing to do with that shit.”

Harry’s reaction left you feeling oddly disappointed. Not angry, but close to it. That was when you realized you had made the same mistake again. You had been expecting him to be concerned, or at least to act as if he cared. It wasn't his job to care. It wasn't his job to make sure you were happy.

Nonetheless, Harry could still be the key to getting what you wanted.

It didn't feel good to have to coax him into backing you, but it was your duty to do so for Niall and the rest of the skaters. The hockey team had crossed a line, and if this was the only way to stop them, so be it.

He might not be thrilled to help you, but he had the means to do so. If he wanted to get a favor, he would have to do one for you as well. In the end, it was only fair.

“I believe you, but you're the team captain, and I know he'll listen to you.” You took another sip of the coffee you had almost forgotten was there. “I'm only taking a favor for a favor… sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

“Okay, fine, whatever. I’ll see what I can do.”

You cocked a brow at his reaction. “That's not enough. If I can't see any improvements, the deal is off.”

Harry stretched in his chair, crossing his arms behind his neck while he mused. “That's called extortion, you know? It’s a felony.”

Your lips curled as you snorted at his remark. “It's not my fault you got in a fight and need a new jersey; I'm simply taking advantage of the circumstances. Besides, you aren't so innocent yourself... or did you think I couldn’t tell you were trying to butter me up earlier by getting me my favorite drink?”

Harry’s eyes widened with what looked to be confusion and amusement... and perhaps even a little happiness. “You were at the game?”

Your face got warm. “Oh, uh… yeah. I went with Niall. He likes watching sports, so...”

“Ha, I see...” His face turned expressionless. “You're wrong about your drink, by the way... I wasn’t trying to butter you up, I just thought it'd be a nice gesture.”

“Yeah, I guess...” You smiled a bit, before deciding to congratulate him on his team's victory. “You played well yesterday. Everyone went crazy when you scored that goal at the end.” The moment you finished talking, you noticed Harry was slouching in his chair, just staring at you. It was almost trance-like, the way his eyes weren’t able to stop smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He asked, but then in a sudden move, he got up, picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “I have to get going. I've got homework.”

You didn't really buy his excuse, but you also didn’t question it since you knew he wouldn't tell you whatever it was that was on his mind. “Yeah, okay.” You said instead, despite your enquiring face. “I guess I’ll see you...”

“Tuesday.” He completed. “I'm not sure what time yet, but I'll let you know.”

He was gone in an instant, leaving you alone with nothing but two unfinished cups of sad, tasteless coffee to keep you company.

Tuesday came by quickly.

Amidst the week's rush of lectures at university, runs and yoga classes with Niall, as well as preparations for the championship, you barely registered the days passing by.

As far as your agreement with Harry goes, you knew he had kept true to his word since there were no hulking hockey players in sight that day when you got to the rink.

Given that you had agreed on Tuesday, you didn't bother getting up early the mornings before to check on the rink's availability... and considering that you had the schedule for it over the weekend, you ended up booking that open spot in the afternoon right after lunch for free skating, even though it wasn't the most ideal.

The return to the ice on Tuesday morning, however, was a welcome relief.

The weather was peaceful… the ice was fresh, and you and Niall were able to make progress on a tricky jump that had been giving you the willies as of lately. It wasn’t perfect yet, but at least by the end of the morning you no longer felt like you were putting Niall through the danger of getting a neck fracture every time you leapt onto his shoulders.

Later that day, you met with your choreographer and he too noticed a positive shift in your performance. Having barely been on the ice over the week other than with your instructors, the shift was somewhat surprising... but it also made sense to an extent, since the break had allowed you to focus on other forms of training that you normally considered supplementary – like practicing balance and endurance.

After your choreography lesson, Niall invited you to go to the mall with him.

He wanted to check out a new tech store that had opened there, and since you had nothing better to do than finish the schoolwork you were procrastinating on, you accepted his invitation.

It was a fun afternoon, though you ended up spending much longer than you’d originally planned just browsing around. You barely noticed the hours passing, which was mostly Niall's fault because he had this extraordinary ability to beguile people with conversation topics that were seemingly random but made for weirdly interesting discussions.

His conversation starters almost always initiated with “Have you ever thought about...” and then something crazy would follow. It was impossible to stop the tangents after that, especially if he happened to touch on a subject that you considered to be interesting too. When that was the case, the two of you would just go on and on like a never-ending pit.

This happened several times that noon.

So, despite having been anxious as hell for the better part of the day knowing you’d be meeting up with Harry later, the whole thing had almost slipped your mind by the time he texted you asking if you'd at the centre soon.

“Shit.” You muttered while replying to his message saying you were on your way. “Can you drive me to the sports centre? I need to get something to Harry and I'm too late to walk there.”

“Yeah, sure.” Niall said as you began making your way to the escalator that took you to the underground parking lot. It had become less crowded since you arrived, so finding the car wasn't too difficult. “So what’s going, you’ve been talking with him again?”

“Nothing is going on. I told you about him asking for his jersey back. I'm surprised you forgot…”

“Ah! True, true.” He responded as he climbed into the driver's seat. “I just wanted to ask if there was anything else besides that. I know you aren't fully over him yet, which is understandable, but...” He paused, then let out a sigh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I don't want my friend to end up in the same position again if you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.” You leaned back in your seat and stared out the window. “But don't worry, that's not going to happen. It's pretty obvious he doesn't like me, but even if he did…well, as the saying puts it… once bitten, twice shy.”

You talked about something lighter the rest of the way there. Niall wasn’t the type to bring up uncomfortable topics or force you to talk when you didn't feel like it. He usually just listened when you shared, which was good. He still gave his advice if you asked for it, but when it came to your situation with Harry, that wasn't what you needed, and he was aware of that.

What you needed was a friend that respected your decisions, but still cared about your well-being at the same time. A friend who understood you'd want to go meet your ex on your own but still offered to wait and give you a ride home afterward, so you didn’t have to walk alone at night.

The next day, the hockey team was playing outside of town, so there was a big, tall bus parked at the back of the sports centre.. and a shadowy man standing right next to it. The sky had already darkened so it was hard to see, especially on the side he was on, which wasn't getting bathed by the centre’s lights like the opposite one was.

Logically, you knew it must be Harry, but you didn't want to get too close without being sure. It could be the bus driver, or someone who happened to be there for something else. So instead of walking over, you stood at a reasonable distance and cast a wide-eyed glance in all directions, before lowering your gaze to your phone screen to text Harry letting him know you were outside.

But before you could send him anything, you were startled by his voice. “You can come over here, I don’t bite.”

You hoped the nighttime blindness worked both ways because you had jumped a little with the scare, which had to have looked a little stupid. “Oh, it is you! I couldn't tell from back there… it’s er…dark.”

If he saw you jump, he didn’t acknowledge it, instead he asked, “Did you walk all the way here by yourself?”

He seemed concerned that you had, which gave you a warm feeling in your belly. You didn't know what to make of it. “Oh, no. I was at the mall with Niall when you called so, he drove me. He’s parked at the front.”

“Hm.” Harry grunted dryly, which sparked a little awkward pause until he finally asked the dreaded question, “Do you have the jersey?”

“Oh yeah- one second... it's in my bag.” You smiled stiffly before you started rummaging around for it. “I’m not the best at doing laundry so the color might have gotten bit worn off from the washer, I hope that’s not an issue.”

“That’s fine.” He tossed the jersey over his shoulder, disregarding how neatly you'd folded it. “Thanks.”

“Okay, um… you must be pressed for time, so…”

“Not necessarily.” You found the coldness in his voice upsetting, and you couldn't figure out why he was stalling you when he obviously wasn't delighted to see you. “So how’s the situation with the rink, did it all work out?”

“It did.” It was a brief response, but you didn't feel like standing there chit-chatting just for the sake of it. “Thanks, for helping and… I guess for asking too.”

“Don’t thank me.” He said it brusquely, which irritated you even more. “Okay, um… I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Yeah, that.” You curled your lips in a weak smile, and Harry did the same before setting out to go back inside the building. Sadly, upon watching him leave, you couldn't resist calling his name to see his face again. “Hey, Harry-” His head jerked back at the sound. “Have a good game tomorrow. I hope you win!”

He looked like he was about to look away, but he didn’t. Instead, he returned your gaze, as though he was contemplating something. There was a strange glint in his eyes, and it lingered there as he began walking back towards you. And then, wordlessly, swiftly and without a warning, his hands reached for your face… and his lips reached for a kiss.

You squeaked in surprise at the feeling, but that was all there was to it. After Harry’s lips' familiar texture took over, there wasn't much room left for surprises. His body steered yours backwards against the side of the bus, sheltering you from any curious eyes peering through the windows above. “Harry, what-”

“Stop talking,” He muttered against your lips, still laying kisses in between. “I know it's messed up but if we both keep quiet, no one has to know it happened.”

Your throat was itching to respond, but his kissing made your head blurry. His mouth lowered to taste your neck, kissing every inch of skin it swept by. Then, just when you thought it couldn't be any better, his tongue slipped out and found a spot that had you gasping quietly.

The touch of his body was setting yours on fire, reviving it in a way it hadn't been in ages. Your kisses grew hotter and heavier, and before either of you could pause and wonder if this was right, Harry was already fumbling with the button of your jeans - and you were letting him.

“Do you still think of my hands?” You could feel the warmth of his words on your skin as his fingers slid in. His pace was slow, almost too slow, as if he was enjoying listening to the eagerness of your heartbeats. “I think of yours most times; whenever I play with myself, it’s always you… your hands... your mouth... your pussy…”

You both moaned as Harry reached the hot spot hidden beneath your panties. He rubbed a bit around it, in slow and steady circles. “I’ve always loved how fast it reacts to my touch… it gets so wet and creamy, and your clit… fuck, ‘s all puffy and twitchy…” His fingers pressed harder on it, stroking more firmly.

And shit, you were getting there already. So, so close that your entire body was twitching uncontrollably against his. “Please… d-don’t stop.”

“Already? Fuck baby… you haven't been giving it the proper attention lately, have you?” You shook your head in response to his question. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had gotten to that point, but Harry was right; you hadn't had an orgasm in a while… and of course, he could tell. “I'm not gonna lie, I already suspected that she wasn't being well taken care of, but shit... that's just disgraceful, isn't it?”

You could hardly gather the strength to answer him. The only sound you could muster were a few high-pitched "mhmms" that were muffled against his neck. You groaned when he pushed his fingers in and pierced through your hymen a little too briskly. “Still?”

You felt a little offended by how surprised he sounded but acknowledged his question with a nod. “It’s okay, just breathe…” He whispered softly into your jaw as his motions became gentler.

This wasn’t the first time Harry had used his fingers on you, but usually it was more the outside bits that he focused on. He loved giving oral, so you did a lot of that… the fingering thing only came later once you started having conversations about him taking your virginity. If it were up to you, you’d no longer have it, but Harry had wanted to take things slow. He knew your mind was prepared, but he had wanted to make sure your body was too… just so the experience was painless and pleasurable for both, and not just for him.

The stretching burn you were feeling eased after a while. It still stinged a little, but it wasn’t a bad type of feeling. Slowly but surely, it was transforming into a different type of heat, the kind that spread through your abdomen and got you to spasm around Harry’s fingertips.

He was going to make you cum if he kept on doing what he was doing…

Which he didn't.

He stopped right before you got there.

You stared up at him in confusion, right before you started glancing around to make sure no one was walking out of one of the buildings or approaching the bus. “What- what happened? Why did you stop?”

“Stop with what, hm?” That feeling of disorientation pervaded your mind for a moment, but reality set in once he started re-tucking your jeans back into place with a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

This was it.

He was done.

“That was a cute little warm up, wasn't it?” He shamelessly asked as he zipped up your fly. “It's a shame it had to end so abruptly… you seemed to be enjoying yourself... but don't get me wrong, this has been good fun for me too.”

With nothing to say or do, you just stood there astounded. You were torn between sobbing out of frustration, seeking an explanation, and simply leaving without uttering another word. It wasn't like whatever decision you made mattered anyway since none of those options would accomplish you anything.

The mess had already been made.

You shouldn't have allowed this to happen, and shouldn't have enjoyed it, but you did. It would have been much smarter to put a stop to things right the moment Harry kissed you but, despite the circumstances, you couldn't bring yourself to do it… and now, after everything he'd already done, he was ridiculing you.

When you looked at him again, you noticed that all of the traces of humor that had been gracing his features had dissipated. His gaze felt like steel, harsh and bitterly cold. “You should go. Niall's waiting for you, remember?”

His chest got shoved back by your clasped fists. “You’re an asshole!”

He tried to grab your wrists, but you shoved his chest again. It was enough to make him back down, although he still managed to get a hold of your arm. He used that to keep you from leaving. “I may be.” He spoke right in your ear. “Now you know what it feels like to be left stranded. I hope you fucking liked it as much as I fucking did.”

PART 2

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smuttyaf · 1 month

Text

Sweet Symphonies

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐲/𝐧 𝐱 𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬)

wc; 7.3k | love story by indila

finally finished this draft that was requested ages ago!! hope you enjoy💗

“Alright! Run it again!”

The crisp chill of the arena seeps through the spandex fitting tightly against your sweating skin. Frosty clouds of exhaustion trail out of your mouth, sight etching out the cuts tracked across the slab of ice.

Upbeat tempo strums through the sound system, daunting plucks of the violin signaling your cue to raise your arms slowly along with the hum, head rolling up from its position and staring at the beams in the ceiling.

Vision soon dips slowly, body angling your pointed legs and pushing you across the ice, the beautiful sound of the vocalist begins only further increasing your paste, heavy strides carrying you across the surface as your knees bend and arms stretch out to float along with the wind.

L'âme en peine A soul in pain

Il l'attend devant cette photo d'antan He is waiting for her; in front of this picture of yesteryear

Il, il n’est pas fou He, he’s not crazy

Il y croit it c’est tout He believes in it, that’s all

ll la voit partout He sees her everywhere

II I’attend debout He is waiting for her standing

The chimes pick up with the introduction of more instruments adding to the harmony, the sound pushing you to add more exaggerated facial expressions of sorrow before your legs twist you around effortlessly letting you jump; left foot leaving the ice to balance your frame in the cold breeze that sends adrenaline coursing, building your muscles to twist around once more to perform another double salchow.

Once your skates hit the ice perfectly accentuating your form, your balance relaxes as you push on continuing your routine. Feet carry over each other, with heart pounding in your ear as ice cracks beneath your feet moving amongst the slab as if an angel on ice.

With each heartbreaking lyric you find yourself humming along to the sweet symphony, timed positions reflecting the hurt with each vocal. Absorbed in the moment, you consciously admire the feelings layered within the song. It brings you closer to the orchestrated dance as you continue to move.

Your mind is elsewhere with skates carrying you freely, lungs grown accustomed to the bitter cold that leaves you pleasantly numb with your limbs flexing every second, your focus on executing every triple axel or camel spin.

Debout une rose à la main Standing a rose in hand

Non, non plus rein ne le reteint… No, nothing holds him back either…

Dans sa love story In his love story

Sa love story Her love story

Muscles stretch with spine flexing gracefully, strands of hair wisp in your vision as you dip your head up dramatically with arms outstretched.

Every twist and turn cocoons you in the moment of being connected with your heart and body. You're completely wrapped in your own world, sight obvious from your coach to onlookers. They’re entranced by the harmony that flows you executing the rest of the routine so beautifully, the story of pain accurately being expressed as you venture across the ice; loving every minute of the air combing over your skin with easy strides.

By the time the break within the song begins the crowd around the rink has already built up, children and adults watching your every motion as the melodic choir vocals and chimes blend beautifully to combine with your movements. Hands moving elegantly with backwards strokes emphasizing your routine floating around the many faces watching.

Only then do you realize how many people are there, and despite skating for so many years, your ability to draw in a crowd just from being in your own world surprises you with how many are looking completely enveloped with your performance.

Des cris de joie Cries of joy

Quelques larmes, on s’en va A few tears, we go

On vit dans cette love story We live in this love story

Love story

As the magnetic waves of the singer trails off to conclude the last notes of the song, you are back in your original position in the middle of the rink.

Balancing yourself as you spin in another circle, arms stretched out with left foot in the air, you find the strength to grip your skate and bring it closer to your head, foot swinging around to twirl you around in a catch spin. Neck elongating with spine curving in on itself as you stretch even more to transition into a needle.

The speed you’re going at doesn’t stop you from breaking your stance, but only has you loving the crisp air brushing around you, enjoying every moment until the chords begin to drum out, signaling your knee to carefully fall from your grip over the blade, leg relaxing itself out as you accentuate your bow with gaze strongly held in front of you.

The astonished appearance of the crowd doesn’t usually bother you, but there’s a brunette man with a tilted helmet that catches your gaze amongst the crowd nestled by the window, however, regardless of his surprised expression it doesn’t shake your concentrated face as the song finally cuts.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes! That was your best one yet!” Coach Griffin begins to applaud, loud and joyful as he gives a thumbs up from his seat on the bench. Faint claps are heard around the arena as well from onlookers as you smile brightly.

Deep breath escapes from your nose, one hand going to your hip while the other reciprocates his exaggerated thumb beginning to push off the ice. After that performance it sucked all the energy out of you with your chest rising heavily as you stepped through the gate to meet with him.

It’s when passing do you realize that the tilted helmet man eyes are still watching you, especially when you go to grab your water bottle.

He’s tall, and the fact that he’s in skates doesn’t help either. Shiny hair pressed tightly against his forehead, black compression shirt defining his chest and thick shoulder pads. You don’t stare too long as your sight breaks away, beginning to unscrew your water bottle, fingers unbelievably numb that you can’t feel the metal cap as you tug it open, feet pushing you off the white door and passing him.

“U —Uh Hi, Hey!” He begins, hand immediately going to his helmet and peeling it off, a bright nervous smile stretching.

The fluorescent lights have you catch sight on how green his eyes are, it’s why you stop suddenly with brows together as you look over him. Dip curving into his cheeks, wrinkles by his eyes and body rocking with urgency, you squint at him while further stepping aside from his frame.

“Hi?” You respond, examining the smooth expanse of his neck in contrast to his white teeth shining.

“Your, uh, performance was really—”

“—Come on, we don’t have all day.”

Coach Griffin interrupts, breaking your view as you continue your departure down the hall, brushing past him with your mentor to the right of you. The rush of bodies trails around you in a blur trying to find an empty place to catch your breath.

“We don’t need any distractions, remember how Michal turned out.”

The mention of his name has your teeth clench down on each other, gaze tearing away from the metal drinking fountains and to your gray hair coach.

“Wasn't even interested.” You huff, hand raising the water bottle to your lips and sipping back the cold liquid.

“Good! Now drink some more and let’s get you to cool down.” Nodding your head tiredly, your vision passes back over the scratched up boards and pedestrians to look back at the brunette, except he’s nowhere to be found amidst the people roaming by.

You should’ve thanked him for the attempt at the compliment at least, Griffin cutting him off is an ignorant attempt trying to keep you focused even though you’re sure the gesture was completely harmless.

Heart begins to slow, sight traveling back to look at your coach completely occupied with his phone, probably going over your schedule until the upcoming performance. Two weeks couldn’t come by any faster. Waking up everyday on the tip of your toes ready to be back on stage to display your many years of passion for the sport.

Training since you were five, you transitioned between ballet and figure skating, growing accustomed to the hardship of the sports you pushed yourself to become a three time world-winning gold champion, all due to your long hours of training and dedication. Now you’re twenty-three and it’s only up from here, obvious that you’re in your prime, despite the last couple of years not being your most memorable moments.

After dating Slovakian hockey player Michal Mrazik for two years, it ended in a devastating breakup. One that left a storm of heart ache and suffering, a combination of problems ranging between distance and lack of trust between both parties. The grief so brutal you ended up crying during your performance at the previous championship, it was plastered everywhere with crystal clear tears streaming down your face and ruining your makeup.

And although it was a passionate performance and winning your third gold medal, the pain of the breakup was evident and on display for the world to see. Griffin was disappointed that you let your feelings take a hold of you at such a serious moment, but happy it was beautifully displayed through your movements that it made you win.

Now, a year and half later you’ve hounded in your mind to stay away from men. Focus on yourself and yourself only. You’re on such a perfect path that you don’t need the tabloids in your problems again. It’s why you push off the wall and tug yourself over to the locker room.

“I’m still good to pick you up tomorrow after practice?” Chelsea asks on the other line. Your phone is pressed between your knee and ear, looking at the subtle pink nail polish gracing your toe.

“Yeah, I’ll pack everything so I’m ready,” Reassuring your friend while adding another stripe, deep sigh releasing at the effortless pass.

“I don’t know how you do it girl, I would be exhausted after everything.” Exaggerating tone not being able to comprehend how you can stretch and twist your body for hours and still manage to go to the club afterwards.

“I mean I haven’t seen you in awhile, and I think it’ll be fun too,” You reveal, fingers dipping the brush back into the bottle and continuing your routine of painting your nails.

“And…” She sings before her giggle travels through the static. “Time to meet some cute boys, you know… get your mind off… he who shall not be named.”

Rolling your eyes, the sound of your teeth kissing travels through the receiver, memories of your ex flashing back as your tongue runs over your lips and curl over each other.

“I kinda’ just want to have fun tomorrow, no thoughts, just vibes, right?” Nose scrunching in irritation as the brush runs over your cuticle smearing the polish over your skin.

“Yes, of course, but you better actually drink! I’m not wasting my money on you only being tipsy?!” Chelsea continues. The ends of your lips tugging up from your best friend recalling your habit.

“Oh my god, no!” You proclaim, hand grabbing the cotton swab drenched in nail polish remover and letting it clean the mess.

“Come on Y/N, you said it yourself, you haven’t seen me in forever so do it for me! Pretty please!” Eyes rolling again as you pick the cap back up and grace it over your nails.

“Ugh! Okay, okay… sure, why not?”

The locker door rattles loudly as it shuts close, people past you in a rush to head to their respective rooms for the game about to take place. Zambonis traveling across the ice smoothing the surface from all the marks you previously made, uniquely built orange vehicles twisting and turning till you direct your attention ahead of you.

A men’s team stand in their white and blue attire, some with their helmets off displaying their mullets or porn mustaches, you bite back a laugh at the appearance of one guy who has the full package.

Hand reaching into your pocket, your phone screen lights up to see a message from Chelsea saying she’s twenty minutes away, meaning having to wait around in the lobby until she arrives.

You breeze past the lively crowd of the arena this Saturday evening, soccer and hockey teams roaming across the spacious entrance of the building. You're thankful you find a small seat in the corner by the vending machines. Bag slapping against the plastic chair before your body sits next to it.

You’re leaned forward resting your head on your hand as you mindlessly scroll through Instagram catching up with whatever you missed during your practice. The area is surrounded by families and people all on their own destination to their practice or game. Ignoring everyone around you to the point you’re wrapped up in your own bubble, attention stuck on finding out another one of your past classmates is having a child, that you don’t realize someone is standing in front of you.

“Hello…” Rocking on the pads of his sneakers desperately trying not to wave his hand in front of your face or raise his voice an octave higher.

“Hey! Uh, Hi!” Confusion evident in his tone as your brows push together, fingers going through the highlight of her fiancé, so surprised by her announcement that you’re completely taken back. “Are you blatantly ignoring me?”

“Or, is it selective hearing?” His knees bend, hand raising to his curls that itch his temple in thought. And from your peripheral vision, his body catches your sight making you draw your phone down and smile shyly.

“Oh my god, sorry, I just… found out something,” You confess, laughing slightly to ease your once concentrated focus.

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” He breathlessly laughs, knees flexing him back up to tower over your seated position.

His face is familiar, the tilted helmet guy, except now his protection is slung around his bag with his hockey stick in one hand while the other waves at you politely.

“You performed that song yesterday before my practice… uh, the French love story song?” He goes to take the seat next to your bag. The movement sends the smell of pine through your nose, it’s what catches your attention about him once again. His scent matches his forest eyes and chestnut ringlets. It makes you notice how his appearance isn’t the typical hockey look that all the boys are currently rocking, you like it.

“Yes,” Your sight surveying every dip and bump that roams amongst his skin. Slight stubble grazing the surface as his lips stretch, head nodding along to your answer as he leans in closer.

“Yeah, what I tried to say yesterday was that, uh, it was really good… just breathtaking,” His choice of words has your curious face breaking into a smile. A small laugh trailing out as you lock your phone with attention focusing on him.

“Thank you.” Genuinely appreciating the comment, the one that has the brunette smile back nervously, his sight moving towards your bag but then back to your eyes.

“It’s no problem… I saw you a couple weeks before that, so, i —it’s cool seeing it come together and you… just the way you skate, you make it look so easy,” His thick brows push together as if just letting his thoughts run straight out of his mouth, completely unfazed by his unfiltered reveal.

“I don’t know, it’s like you don’t skate; you just float.” The words leave your ears to tingle, lengthy digits curling around the case of your phone looking at him with mouth dry.

Okay… you’re used to interviewers expressing their appreciation for your dances and judges giving you all tens across the board, but whenever it came from family or peers it felt more personal in a way, especially from someone who's seen your routine fall into place. Even that thought itches your brain, you’ve been practicing this dance for seven months straight, so how far along has he seen the progression.

“Thank you.” You whisper, lips curling in on each other as you blink at him. His green eyes looking over your hesitant appearance before another toothy smile is spreading.

“I’m sorry, I’m Harry, by the way,” His hand reaching out and offering it to yourself, it has you releasing your fingers around your device and shaking his. Huge palm enveloping your smaller one that both of your eyes widen at the same moment recognizing the difference.

“Uh, Y/N,” You shine, hand quickly going towards the back of your neck to scratch the skin there, Harry coughs into his palm lightly, teeth biting into his fleshy lip before twisting his sight.

“I play hockey with my friends here, we have our own team,” He confides, hand gesturing towards the familiar rink. The information has you nodding your head, heart stupidly clenching at the mention of hockey as your gaze tears away and towards the players floating on the ice practicing before their game.

“Are you like a professional? Is that cheesy to say?” He laughs, sight going towards you who continues to stare ahead; your head bows in thought as you flex your head from side to side before turning towards him.

“Yeah, I’m—”

“—Holy shit, Styles! We start in five!”

Voice being shouted throughout the lobby cutting off your words and making his eyes trail towards his friend completely geared up with eyes bulging out from his helmet.

The groan next to you diverts your gaze back towards Harry who immediately stands, curse falling from his lips as he nods his head at his friend.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Happy grin sent your way as he heads towards the hockey rink.

Despite the small interaction you found his nervous expression quite attractive compared to his tall burly appearance, you would assume he’ll be cocky and confident, not one to be so oblivious yet intriguing at the same time.

You watch Harry pass through the sliding door, his friend's large glove clapping him on the back as he continues walking. It’s at that same time does Chelsea’s familiar ringtone rattles your phone making you answer it, ready for your night of dirty martinis and dancing.

Orange rays with hues of yellow strike every surface of the room, chirping birds signaling the start of a new day, they’re singing on the other side of the window has you moaning awake.

Your arms flex, pillows ruffling and thighs spreading amongst the bedspread, your fingers cover your eyes as you adjust to the bright light. The penetrating beams has a groan following, your head is thumping from your alcohol consumption from yesterday night.

“Ugh… Chels,” Irritated whine slipping past your lips as you bury your head into the soft sheets. It’s then do you hear the sound of a keyboard clicking away do you blindly feel over next to you, hand landing on her shoulder as you begin to playfully shake her.

“Why do I let you convince me to do these things?” Muffled voice trying to not let another tired groan escape.

“Because you love me.” She sings in her usual voice, giggling as she rumbles next to you. The action has you tear away from the pillow and narrow your eyes at her.

“I’m starting to rethink that.” You sigh, eyes closely slowly as her laughter is heard in the space, it makes you smile at the noise.

“Yeah, whatever… I think The Morning After is open by now, want to go for bunch?” Chelsea suggests, brows wiggling as you scrunch your nose up.

“Brunch? What time is it?”

“11:25.”

Another displeased moan trails out as you rise up, hand reaching out to her night table and grabbing your phone. View looking over your many notifications of being tagged from the night before with your friend, to regular app updates.

Sorting through the many, your eyes clear every uninteresting activity including the news about inflation to shopping app promotions. Once moving to Instagram, your eyes search the many people who went live since last going on the app, usernames of people you don’t know; liking and commenting on your pictures to soon then follow you, unfamiliar names not catching your attention like the distinct one that stands out.

harrystyles22 is now following you.

“What the fuck?” You mutter, thumb immediately tapping the alert as it brings you onto the app and to his page.

“What?” Chelsea questions but doesn’t tear her sight away from her own phone.

Thumb immediately taps on a picture of him, clearly a polaroid film with the way his green eyes are bright with colourful Rolling Stone shirt on display, curls tossed across his head as he smiles at the camera. The sight alone has you chewing down on your dry lip, finger carrying you to another picture of him.

This time he’s in a brown fedora, hair framing his face gracefully while the friend to the right of him mouth is wide and expression bright as if they just went out and partied. The sight of Harry pulling a stupid face has you smirk subconsciously.

“Oh, he’s cute! Like really, really cute!” Chelsea's voice announces next to you, the surprise of it has your phone flipping around and slamming into the blanket, annoyed groan ringing through the space.

“Did you meet him yesterday?” Her questions begin, her frame ruffling against the sheets as she practically crawls on top of you to grab your phone.

“Ah! Hey!” You whine, twisting around and attempting to fight her arm slinging around your neck reaching for your phone. “No! now would you stop!”

Which she does not, her body applying all her weight on your back to clench your phone tightly in your grip. Her evil laugh slips out as you both fight over the device.

“Did he just DM you then?” She continues, your palm grows with sweat as the heat from the blankets and her moving body piercing your spine.

“No, now Chelsea get off,” Hand curling under your head to cut her grip off, it has her retreating her hold and cross her arms over her chest.

“If I get off, will you tell me?”

“Yes!”

Your back relaxes after she rolls off, more laughter leaving her as her arm goes to prop her head up, dazzling smile shining as her eyes brighten with amusement. Despite being friends since diapers, Chelsea and you are practically sisters, knowing everything about each other to the point you know how to push the others buttons.

“Now… tell me,” Head cocking to the side to exaggerate her curiosity over the boy you were looking at.

Deep sigh releases, eyes closing momentarily still adjusting to the pounding in your head with the sun shining through the room.

“I met him yesterday, he just liked my performance s’all,” You confess, hand leaving your head and unlocking your phone, passing the device to Chelsea she smiles happily before fixing her body to allow you to see her scrolling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She questions with fake hurt, her mouth dropping as she shows you a picture of him topless, tattoos on display with credit towards his artist for the incredible artwork.

You try not to blush as you close your eyes and shake your head, hand combing over your face before dropping into the pillow.

“Because it’s really nothing, he was just being nice…” You trail off, brain relaxing at the black emptiness your shut eyes provide.

“Oh no babe, your what the fuck moment wasn’t because he was just being nice,” Chelsea points out, threaded brows sticking up and everything as she passes a blurry picture of him playing guitar.

“Well… he kinda…” Her head immediately snaps towards you, eyes twinkling and cheeks swelling, it’s crazy scary how she gets more excited about your love life than you do. “He introduced himself to me yesterday, I only told him my name and—”

“—And now he’s following you?!”

You tear your head away from the pillow to rise up and nod your head at her, the squeal that leaves her is adorable as she gets up on her feet and begins to jump around in her bed, it for sure has her downstairs neighbors annoyed by her presence.

“Do you know what that means?” She asks with enthusiasm, her bouncing body halting as she falls to her knees, dropping your phone and shaking you erratically. Your tender brain rattles against your skull as you hiss in pain.

“It means he took your name and ran to the internet! He specifically looked for you, this has to be set in stone, I mean how many men do that today?” She’s rambling, her eyes frantic and grip tight, she was so thrilled you can’t help but laugh at her expression.

“Sorry to rain on your parade but, don’t creepy weird men do that?” You reply, lips curling into a smirk as she looks at you clearly annoyed before her hand is picking your phone back up.

Her lilac fingernail points to the grinning hockey player showing off an array of sloppy decorative cupcakes with different colours piped over the surface.

“What creepy weirdo do you know that bakes just to “try something new,”” Her eyes squinting to read over his caption before shoving it in your face.

Another groan leaves your throat as you drop into the pillow, cheeks smushing against the material as you shake your head tiredly at her.

“Okay, so what if he’s not a weirdo it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not interested.”

“Liar!”

Annoyed draw of air escapes you, body twisting around under the sheets as you adjust to look at her better. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are! The first thing you did when I called you out was hide your phone!” She taunts, only making your ears ring and throat tighten at the moment.

“B —Because—”

“B —B—Because,” Chelsea mocks you before snickering. Your hands go to cover your face to groan again at your teasing friend. “Just admit he’s cute at least.”

Deep breath fills your lungs as you nod shortly in your palms, the lines along your fingers disappearing as you tear them away and look at your friend with annoyance.

“Yes, he’s quite attractive but no, I’m not interested.” You say, shifting your sight over her shoe rack to Chelsea who rolls her eyes at your stubborn attitude.

“You know you don’t have to lie to me…” Lips expand tightly to show displeasure as she falls back into the bed. Her hands placing the phone back into yours while now smiling at you genuinely.

“It’s almost been like two years Y/N, at least talk to someone new, it’ll do you some good.” Those words having you shaking your head, seriousness consuming your body as you think about your last relationship.

“I’m not ready for that. I think I’m better off alone right now.”

Even though you went out two days prior, exhaustion still overcomes your body. Your calves sore, toes pinched together and dark undereye bags, it’s written all over your face you’re still hung over. The Redbull that falls from the machine and clunks around at the bottom has your knees bend to retrieve it.

You don’t even wait to go back to the bench as you crack it open, delicious energetic liquid flowing down your tongue curated to taste like blueberries; it welcomes itself with its delicious after taste letting a relieving sigh escape at the refreshing drink that boosts your mood.

“Y/N!”

Your head immediately turns to see Harry, beaming smile and messy curls walking over to you.

Fading band t-shirt covering his chest with black basketball shorts resting along his hips, his usual hockey equipment in hand.

“Oh! Hey, Harry,” You smile faintly at him, fingers curling around your phone once he overshadows you.

“How’s it been? Sorry I had to cut the night before I was running behind,” He explains, nervously laughing as he still manages to tower over you even in sneakers.

“Oh, it’s alright! I figured.” You reassure, sight looking between his eyes and the dimple that tugs at your heart strings. You’ve always been a fool for dimples.

“I wanted to, uh, catch up with you so I followed you on Instagram,” Your eyes slightly widen that he’s even revealing this to you. He’s so honest and you barely even know him, barely even had a whole conversation with him, yet he’s already confessed having watched your practices and now wants to catch up?

“I didn’t know how famous you were, I guess you missed it?” His hand going to his neck and scratching the skin there, still laughing lightly. The comment has your lips tugging up slowly, eyes darting between his and the blue can in your hold.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’ll check right now,” You apologize, your heart begins to pick up in your chest as you lock eyes back with him. Your choice of words has his head shaking, hand twitching by his side as he goes to crack his knuckles.

“No! I —I don’t want you to think nothing of it, I just noticed, I’m sure you’re busy and everything! Don’t worry you won’t lose a fan” He grins brightly, thick finger raising to his chest to give you a thumbs up.

The gesture has you giggle lightly, head swaying from each side as you rock on your skates. Now he’s a fan of yours? And even with those words he says it so confidently, are you in the Twilight Zone?

“I’ll do it right now,” Phone in hand entering your passcode, going onto the multicoloured app and clicking on the magnifying glass.

“No… uh, you really don’t have too,” Harry hesitates, his teeth biting into the skin of his lip as his hand holding his hockey stick fumbles with it.

“It’s fine don’t worry,” Your hand turns your phone around to reveal to him the search bar, waiting on him to type his name in even though you already know it by heart.

His large hand carries your device out of your smaller one, his fingers circling around the keyboard as if forgetting how to type. The motions leave you to prop your eyebrow up and look at him confused.

A heavy breath blows from him, eyes switching between you and the phone screen till he’s sighing deeply, nose scrunching up before his movements halting.

“Can I uh, put in something else?”

“What?”

“My number?”

Your mouth parts slightly, lashes blinking up at him surprised as you feel your cheeks begin to heat up. Completely blindsided and astonished that he even asked you that. You don’t even know what to say as you both stare at each other caught up in the moment.

“O —Or maybe I’m being too pushy, it’s okay.” He rushes, sight tearing away from you as he quickly begins punching in his username, your lips immediately close before you’re clearing your throat.

“No, it’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting,”

“No, it’s okay… here, that’s me.”

Your phone is back into your hand, and despite your unsure appearance Harry is smiling, cheery and happy as if not fazed by your confusion.

“No seriously, put your number in,” Fingers immediately opening your contacts to add him, hand attempting to pass the phone back.

“Y/N let’s go, you got ten more minutes until we’re done!” Coach Griffin is calling from the transparent doors that reveal him stepping through. His eyes catch on Harry who immediately lets go of your phone and grins an enchanting smile.

You curl it into your chest while nodding at your coach seriously, lips stretching tightly before you're walking in front of him and heading towards the gray-haired man.

“Come on, no distractions, you know this!” He comments, unibrow raising pointedly at you as he begins to walk along your side.

“Not a distraction, he was just being nice.” You say, leaving Griffin to grunt disapprovingly to your response.

But, you ignore him, head twisting around for a moment to see Harry, eyes locked on your retreating body, and when your sight connects he immediately turns to look distracted with lips squeezing into his cheeks.

The sore pain that aches within your muscles appears evident as you limbly slide amongst the ice. You wanted to take this practice easy, especially with your tournament in three days, but Griffin on the other hand wants everything perfect.

Your thighs burn and biceps tingle tiredly as your body succumbs to your routine that you’ve been performing for two hours straight, he was nit-picking everything about your performance as if your face wasn’t layered with exhaustion overcoming you.

The compelling chorus rings through the arena, your arms flexing outwards as you take two large strides, body twisting around to spin, perfectly landing your lutz before switching direction and continuing your motions to your next move.

And with each lyric does it race your mind of the curly brunette who has you in a frenzy. Going through his social media, rewatching his stories or seeing what he’s tagged in; for someone who wants to focus on oneself, you sure know how to watch someone.

But, hell, you’re confused. Harry with his dimple grin and tall frame, all the small moments that have happen tug at your heart strings, feelings as if maybe this is someone you can get to know? Or should you just swallow your pride and ignore it all, stick to what you know.

Caught up in your annoying thoughts and your heart a battlefield of the uncertainty between you and another hockey boy, one who should be the least of your worries, you find yourself regaining focus on your performance.

Easily you twist backwards into lengthy glides, figure eight cutting into the floor as you pick up momentum, left leg escaping to lift you up, your double axel clean until your right foot lands sideways, your left leg swinging you into the air to fall on your ass, arms spread out and catching your back before you slam against the ice.

“Y/N! Dammit!” Coach Griffin yells from the bench only leaving you to roll your eyes as you ball your fists together, slapping them into the cut up ice. “Run that part again!”

Your hands brush over your face, tears springing to your eyes from the exhaustion overtaking you. The tension flexing through every bone adds to the water that pierces your eyes, as you tug them away from the surface your sight immediately catches on Harry who looks concerned.

That’s your cue to stand, shaved ice running over your thick stockings and skirt while your thermal heated long sleeve doesn’t help the cold you ingest making your way back to your previous stance to retry your spin.

The music cuts a few seconds before your jump, you’re back to twisting and turning until this time sticking the landing of your previous miss. And as the dance continues you couldn’t help but let tears of frustration trail out, you're immensely tired and want nothing more than to ice your sore limbs rather than over extend it, but to even suggest that to your coach would just result in him saying.

“Pain is beauty.”

It’s why you suck through the rest of your performance, pulling through and striding painfully across the ice and stretching your limps over head to conclude your practice.

You’re thankful this time around there isn’t quite a large crowd to see you perform, but the fact Harry watched you take a fall today was embarrassing in itself. His presence in your life beginning to make itself known.

You found him cute with his stuttering yet confident self, the fact he can be nervous around you but tell you his thoughts as if nothing. It was refreshing to find that within someone, especially him. It showcases the difference between someone who tries while someone who simply doesn’t care.

But, who’s to say Harry is trying? Who’s to say Harry is even interested in you as much as you think about, and even if that was the case there’s only one thing that should be important to you right now, that gold medal, not some man who you barely even know.

Your heart and mind are pulling at each other and suggesting so many ‘what if’s’ moments you think you might explode. If there is one thing you’re good at, it’s overthinking; and right now it’s one of those times. Your darting eyes catch between Harry who looks indecisive to speak while Griffin looks displeased.

“You need to be sharper! Your timing should never waiver, you need to hit every mark; now go on and stretch,” His navy blue tracksuit stalks down the hallway filled with hockey players getting ready to take over the rink.

Your sight trails off of his shuffling body and to Harry who stands left to the entrance, timid smile stretching at the same time you turn away to grab your water bottle, immediately walking after your coach who just berated you.

“Hey! Hey! Y/N!” Harry is there next to you, thick shoulder and leg pads cushioning his walk. His hockey stick rattles against the chip painted floor, the call of your name has you bite back the tears that swirl around your eyes.

“I’m sorry but not right now,” You faintly smile turning to him, hand reaching out and pulling the loose strands of hair behind your ear, feet picking up pace as you see your locker room come into view.

But the heavy padding of him next to you doesn’t stop, and with the feeling of his palm catching your shoulder in his hold, your head whips around as if looks could kill.

“I just wanted to check on you, make sure you’re good? That was one landing,” Harry says, expression soft as his brow is perched with worry. It has your frazzled expression relaxing a bit. You shake your head, body stepping away from his touch as you look down at your skates.

“M’Fine,” You sigh in defeat, attempting to act as if you didn’t fall flat on your ass or get yelled at.

Though you shouldn’t act like it didn’t happen because he’s staring at you completely worried as if you sprained your ankle or worse. His towering appearance and bulky frame shields the space around you as people float past.

“Honestly, I hope you don’t take what he says to heart, you looked stunning out there, absolutely—”

“Oh, please spare me the theatrics,”

Your eyes roll at hearing the words people say to try and cheer you up. You know your performance was shit, it was obvious from your form to the lazy expressions today, but you’re tired, and your mind is a battlefield of forgetting someone old and welcoming someone new.

“I wasn’t good today, I know I wasn’t… I don’t need you to try and butter me up to make me feel better.” Hands squeezing against your hips as you look at him, the outburst of words immediately has you pinching your mouth together and stepping back. Head shaking tightly as you look between him and the ground.

“I —I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just”

“Tired.”

Harry finishes your sentence, a sheepish smile extending across his lips before he’s stepping towards you, evening the space out as he looks over your irritated face.

“I can tell, and I don’t care if I’m buttering you up with compliments, even if you are tired you still own that stage.” His words lift your gaze up; furrowed brows relaxing with lips twisting into your cheeks.

“I know how it feels to be exhausted, running on E, I can relate and… just hope you take it easy once you get home,” Harry’s hand that once touched your shoulder lightly hooks onto your palm, you find yourself allowing him to cradle your fingers gently swaying your hands.

“Nice warm epsom salt bath, Tiger Balm and clean sheets?”

“Are you using muscle relaxing remedies to flirt with me?”

You both laugh, sight sparkling as your once pierced eyes relax. Chest softening and stare pleasantly admiring the tall brunette before you while his own view appreciates the beauty in front of him, your fingertips blindly tapping against each other.

“I hope it worked?” Harry counters, stepping closer to you. The comment makes your ears tingle slightly, your body welcoming his towering appearance as he practically covers you with all his equipment on.

“I’m definitely feeling better.” You find yourself admitting. Cheesy smiles being exchanged. It’s the delicate touches and innocent connection that make you feel an invisible string tying.

The fact that he relates to your frustration and even calmed you down from being railed up despite you saying hurtful things, it comforts the sewn fragments of your heart that experienced neglect when frustrated with your own feelings. As if feeling like having no one to confide in or talk to, moments you were tired and would be ignored.

Harry instead recognizes your hurt and comforts you, he’s polite and genuine, caring eyes looking at you happy that you're relaxed compared to your previous appearance.

“I, uh, was actually thinking are you—”

Buzzer loudly sounding from the scoreboard notifying the opposing sides to take the ice, meaning that it’s Harry’s cue to follow his team. The eye roll and giggle that leaves the space is cute between the bodies of you both. Your sight looking up at him as your skates rock back and forth.

“Why is it that every time I try to—”

“Aye! Yo! Styles! Let’s go!”

Another trail of laughter escaping as Harry huffs, head nodding annoyingly to his friend who calls for him.

“I’ll text you!” He grins, stick clicking by his side as he walks backwards grinning towards you.

It’s in that moment do you realize what transpired. Harry and you being so close, fingers dancing amongst each other like when you both cross over the ice, and the way he easily drew you in, all sweet and kind. You’re not familiar with such peace, especially with a man you barely know.

You’re still standing by the locker room, sight stuck on the 22 in bold white letters on his back, helmet and stick slinging in his hand as his curls flex against the wind, head leaning back to allow water to flow directly into his mouth. The sight is one you can’t help but admire because of how handsome he looks, tall and beefy striding along the ice, jawing tensing as he swallows the water, his body walking him through the opposite door of his team section to set his bottle down.

It’s when he turns around to look towards the rink does his eyes catch onto yours, your cheeks immediately heating up as you tear your eyes away and retreat into the locker room.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #smuttyaf #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #hockey!harry #figureskater!y/n #honestly didn’t know how to end it lol #but i lowkey love them together all nervous at their grown ass age 😭

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cupid-styles · 29 days

Note

omg bestieeeee i so need hocker h nd ballerina to talk and smooch !!!!! ngl i’m a sucker for protective and jealous h 🤭🤭🤭🤭 🐱

I feel like ive made you guys wait way too long for this one gvkdfjgkf

a continuation of this blurb! (and sort of this one)

word count: 2.3k (we had a lot of ground to cover)

content warnings: minor mentions of smut, slight angst but all is fixed by the end, not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | hockey h masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Two weeks.

Two weeks of radio silence from Y/N.

Two weeks of over-thinking everything he did that night.

Two weeks of Harry drunk texting her on lonely nights.

please just tell me if you hate me

im so sorry

ill leave you alone if its what you want, I just need to know

Each and every time, Y/N read his messages, eyes scanning over the words, and locked her phone.

The truth is, she doesn't know what she wants from him, if anything. She doesn't know why she felt so attracted to him that night — she was tipsy, not drunk, and in complete control of her actions. She never hooked up with people in public — no messy makeouts, but she certainly never let anyone finger her in the hallway of a bar.

The entire thing was completely unlike her. Maybe that's what scared her the most.

Deep down, she wanted to reply to him, but she didn't even know what to say. She didn't want him to leave her alone — maybe that was selfish, but she liked knowing he was at least a little okay. She'd even been keeping secret tabs on the hockey team. They had won their past two games, but Harry had been thrown out in the most recent one for unsportsmanlike conduct. Apparently, he'd gotten into a fight with one of the players on the other team.

Admittedly, that worried her, but she didn't want to be his babysitter. On top of that, the spring showcase was this weekend, and she'd thrown every last bit of her energy into rehearsing and practicing to make sure her performance would be absolutely flawless.

She didn't have the time — or mental capacity — to worry about Harry right now.

. . .

"You look like an idiot."

Harry rolls his eyes as he adjusts the collar on his button down for the third time. James and his girlfriend Melanie had helped him with ironing it out so it looked presentable enough on his body. Anything he ever did rarely called for slacks and button up shirts, but Melanie advised him to look polished and put-together for tonight.

He wasn't in a place to reject her advice.

The other teammates that James lived with weren't quite as kind. Stephen, a sophomore defenseman who was only on the team for the perks of sleeping with every girl he could get his hands on, wouldn't stop throwing sarcastic comments Harry's way.

"Shut up, Stephen!" Melanie calls from the living room. She marches into James' bedroom as Harry smoothes out a few leftover wrinkles in his slacks, swallowing tightly. "When's the last time you cared about something besides fucking random girls? At least Harry has some direction in his life."

"I'm just saying, the girl's been ignoring him for weeks. She's gonna laugh in his face."

"Leave!" Melanie exclaims, batting him on the shoulder. Stephen lets out a yelp of pain and Harry smirks, despite the anxiety throbbing in his chest. "You're not helping! Get out!"

Reluctantly, Stephen rolls his eyes as he follows Melanie's orders and leaves the room. She sighs and comes up from behind Harry before flashing him a hopeful grin.

"You look great, H. I think this is a really sweet gesture."

He nibbles on his bottom lip as he turns to face her. "Okay, but what if Stephen's dumbass is right? She could call security on me and have me removed."

Melanie gives him a sympathetic look, "Yeah, it's a possibility. But isn't it better to go down fighting?"

He shrugs.

"You said ballet is her everything. It's her entire life. Show her that you're willing to integrate yourself into that."

"Yeah," he breathes out, nodding slowly. "Yeah, you're right."

"I know I am." she grins. "Okay, let's get you over there. Don't forget the flowers you picked up!"

. . .

30 minutes later, Harry can't stop shifting uncomfortably as he sits in an aisle seat in the campus auditorium at Y/N's spring showcase.

The massive bouquet of flowers in his lap keep making his nose run and he feels like he's being suffocated by the buttons on his shirt that go all the way up to his neck. Best of all, according to the show program, Y/N isn't scheduled to go on until the very end. She mentioned to him once that being placed as the finale act is the best and biggest compliment, and he can't fight the bit of pride that thrums in his heart.

For an hour, he sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt and pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he waits for Y/N to go on. He sits through mediocre singing showcases and even a violin solo that almost puts him to sleep, if not for the older man clearing his throat next to him. Melanie and James even text him during the intermission to see how it's going, but he doesn't have much to report back.

Finally, the show comes to a close and her name is announced, following by the title of the French piece of music she's dancing to. His heart throbs in his chest — he's so nervous for her, especially knowing she hurt her ankle just a few weeks back. But the second she graces the stage, she's a vision of beauty, strength, and delicacy all at the same time. It's enough to take Harry's breath away.

As he sits there watching her, he doesn't move a muscle. Not for a single jump, spin, or step. He doesn't know anything about ballet — not aside from what Y/N has told him — but in that moment, he realizes that he'd be willing to learn every little thing there is to know if it meant she let him back into her life.

She's gorgeous. She offers a flawless performance and the second she's finished, a look of relief washes over her face as she takes a subdued bow, her pretty eyes widening when she sees all the people — Harry included — standing and applauding her.

For Y/N, the hard part was over. For Harry, it had just begun.

. . .

Y/N is elated to have a moment of silence after her performance.

With the dressing room door shut behind her, she lets out a long, deep breath. The dance she'd been driving herself crazy over for months was finally over.

And yet, for some reason, she feels empty.

She shoves it down as sits, eager to get her pointe shoes off. She's ready to shed her costume and get into sweatpants and head home. She knows the rest of the performers are heading out to a party tonight, but she's exhausted.

She's sorting through the bag of clothes she brought when there's a soft knock at the door. She knows she only has around 20 minutes to get out before the janitorial staff starts cleaning, so she rises with a sigh, unlocking the door and opening it.

"I'll be done soon, I just need to change—"

It's not the janitor, though.

It's Harry. Standing there stiffly in a starchy button down with a huge bouquet of flowers that almost encompass the width of his broad shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" she blurts without thinking.

"I came to watch you perform," he replies gently. His throat bobs as he hands her the flowers. "These are for you."

"You didn't watch me." she snorts with a shake of her head. She hasn't accepted the bouquet yet.

"Yes, I did," he instantly fires back, "What, do you wanna see my ticket for proof? I was in seat F34, next to an old man who kind of smelled like soup, and he kept clearing his throat and it was really annoying but I didn't care because I came to see you, and I'd sit through hours of bullshit to watch you dance."

Harry can't read the blank expression of her face, but he takes it as a step in the right direction when she takes the flowers from him. She blinks as she glances past him and then steps aside, motioning for him to come in.

"I have to get my shit together and leave soon, so... just sit in here."

He nods. He's hesitant to allow himself to relax since he's not sure if he's in the clear yet. She closes the dressing room door behind her and places the bouquet on her vanity.

"I need to change," she says, spinning around to face him. "Close your eyes."

He chuckles until he sees the serious expression on her face. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really."

"But... I— y'know—"

"Just turn the fuck around, Harry."

He does as he's told, shutting his eyes as he listens to her roll her tights down and step out of her leotard. One day, if she let him, he'd be more than happy to do that for her — not even in a sexual way, but he knows how tiring it can be to take off his own gear after a long game. He thinks it would be nice to be there for her.

"Okay, you're good," she murmurs. She's stuffing her things in her tote bag when he bats his eyes back open.

"Are you meeting up with anyone after this? I'm sure your friends came to see you, but I just wanted to maybe talk and... y'know, clear the air a bit." Harry says, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Y/N furrows a brow as she analyzes his body language. She doesn't think she's actually seen him look anxious before.

"Um... no," she says with a shake of her head before quickly revising her answer, "No, I mean, I'm not meeting up with anyone and no one came to see me. Except you, I guess."

"Wait, really?"

She sighs as she pauses the process of gathering her things. "Really, Harry."

He swallows tightly. They're silent for a moment as she grabs her jacket and throws it over her shoulders.

"Come over and we'll talk. I borrowed my friend Matt's car for the night but— yeah, you can follow me to my place or whatever. And I can't promise I'll be awake for much longer but I think clearing the air could be... good."

A rush of relief makes its way through Harry's body.

"Okay. Yeah, let's do that."

. . .

"I never said it, but you were flawless tonight."

Y/N laughs breathily as she settles onto her couch, a cup of sleepy time tea in her hand. Harry rejected her offer for one (his response had been, "Y/N, do I look like someone who drinks tea with a sleeping bear on it?") but he'd be lying if he said it didn't at least smell good.

"I fucked up on one of my jetés — I'll get yelled at for it on Monday, but otherwise I'm decently content with the performance."

"Well, you couldn't tell," Harry replies, "Seriously. You were perfect."

Her cheeks warm and she stares down at her tea. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her while Harry sits on the other edge of the couch, giving her plenty of room to stretch out.

"So... clearing the air."

Harry clears his throat and nods, prepared to embark on the speech he'd been practicing in his head for weeks. But then, she speaks.

"I'm sorry for running out on you and ignoring you," she says, keeping her gaze down in her lap. "That wasn't... I'm not the best person. I'm bad at feelings and I use ballet as a crutch. I figure it's the one thing I'm really, exceptionally good at, and that should give me a pass in life but I know that's not true. I can't just go around treating people like shit because I'm... scared."

"What are you scared of?" Harry asks through furrowed brows. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line that night, I should've been better—"

"You didn't. You were great. You did everything perfectly," she replies with a shake of her head. Her response surprises him, but he tries to hide the shock on his face. "I'm scared because you're you. You're a hotshot hockey player and, besides this showcase, you're the only other thing I've thought about these past few weeks. That's horrifying for me."

"Is this...?" Harry attempts to roll his lips into a thin line, preventing a smirk from bursting onto his face. "Is this a very Y/N way of telling me that you like me?"

She groans, as if it's the worst thing to ever happen to her, and it makes Harry laugh.

"Don't laugh at me!" she exclaims. That only makes Harry cackle even louder as he slowly crawls over to her, taking her warm cup of tea out of her hands and placing it on the coffee table.

"You're cute when you're exasperated." he murmurs. She pouts and his eyes crinkle with a grin as he peels her shaky hands away from her face.

"You're the one exasperating me."

"I know," he replies lowly, licking his lips as his face hovers over hers, "I like it."

"This isn't us agreeing to date, by the way." she quickly tacks on. He issues out a mhm as he leans forward, testing the waters, and pressing a light kiss to her nose. "We need to take it slow. Like, painfully slow. Or else I'll freak out and run away again."

"Whatever you want." he mumbles, kissing her right cheek. "I mean it."

"And you can't just overwhelm me whenever you feel like it."

He laughs and kisses her left cheek, then her forehead.

"Okay. Any other demands?"

He stops pasting kisses to her face then, instead choosing to simply loom his lips over hers. He can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and watches as she swallows nervously.

"No," she finally whispers. "Just kiss me."

And so he does.

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avatar-anna · 3 months

Text

Just, like, a little crazy

this...is absolutely ridiculous, but i'm here for it. jealous hockey player!harry everyone! based on this tiktok

Hockey Player! Harry Styles x Figure Skater! Y/n

*.*

"What's that face, baby?"

You stepped off the ice with a furrowed brow, approaching your boyfriend once your skates were properly covered. His arms were crossed, a scowl marring heis features as he waited for you to finish your training session. Your students were long gone, as you usually stayed back to skate freely before heading home.

Harry didn't always pick you up, but he had a bye week, which meant he spent every moment he could with you. Date nights, casual evenings on the couch, late mornings in bed, breakfast in bed if Harry managed to untangle his tired limbs from yours. It was safe to say that bye weeks were your favorite weeks. And Harry's, though he'd never admit it around his teammates.

Shrugging, Harry took your hand and pulled you closer to him for a kiss. You were used to greeting kisses, but this was different, deeper, his tongue pushing into your mouth before you had a chance to even process it. Not in the mood to argue, you kissed him back, dropping your duffle bag at your feet so you could grip the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

Harry's hands gripped your ass, pushing you closer to his front, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Baby," you murmured, trying to catch your breath, but your boyfriend was rather insistent for a Tuesday afternoon. "We—We're in public."

"There's no one around us," he replied, nipping at your jaw. "And since when has that stopped you? Remember your grad party? Or the away game in Boston? Or—"

"Okay, okay, big shot." You pulled yourself back from him, holding his chin in place when he tried to go for your neck. "Let's go home anyway. There are security cameras, and I happen to like working here."

With a little resistance from Harry, you eventually left the rink hand in hand. In the car, his hand was on your leg, his thumb tracing along your inner thigh in a way that made it hard to think straight. You tried to keep still, for no other reason than Harry's earlier comment and you were inherently stubborn, and maybe because you knew if you stayed still you might be rewarded for it. It wasn't a long trip home, but you knew he would make it worth it.

When his hand dipped below the waistband of your leggings, you knew you were right. Sighing, you settled deeper into the passenger seat, eyes fluttering shut.

"So, who was that on the rink with you?"

"Hm?"

You weren't sure if it was a moan or a response to his question, but you didn't really care. You hadn't really heard him anyway.

"You were skating with someone at the end of practice," Harry said, though his voice was secondary to the sensations provided by his fingers. "I thought you just taught the younger age groups. Not...young adults."

You peeked an eye open, glancing at your boyfriend's profile suspiciously. It's nothing, you thought, or told yourself to think. The only thing you wanted to focus on was finishing before you got home.

"Winter showcase," you sighed, clenching around Harry's fingers to distract him from his questions. "I'm doing a little performance with the senior coach."

As his fingers pumped a little faster, he asked, "Oh? So you're—Have you been training with this person often?"

Groaning, you shoved Harry's arm away, pinching his skin for good measure. Yelping he pulled his hand back, cursing slightly as you crossed your arms. And your legs.

"Ow! What the hell was that for? You weren't finished!"

"Did you really try to butter me up into an interrogation by fingering me?" you accused. You'd be impressed if you weren't so annoyed. "All because you're...jealous of my coworker?"

"I'm not—"

"He's my colleague, Harry!"

"Oh, so now I'm just Harry? What happened to baby?"

"Baby is reserved for my mentally sound boyfriend who doesn't try to finger me into submission! And I thought you just loved me."

"Come on, don't be like that. I just saw you...and him...and you looked—you looked..."

Your annoyance ebbed, but only a little. Harry's thoughts were irrational, but you also tended to not see reason when he was around other women, so could you really blame him?

That didn't stop you from teasing him, though.

"I was thinking about you, idiot," you said, shoving his shoulder lightly.

There was a considerable amount of acting when it came to figure skating. It wasn't just about executing tricks perfectly, but telling a story through the lines of your arms, the bow of your head, the emotions on your face as you performed. Partner work wasn't something you were used to, but you'd been asked to fill in when a senior skater's partner got injured last minute. It was all strictly professional, because he was a student and you were happily involved with someone else, an age appropriate someone else.

You often thought of Harry when you performed. For years, he was the person who drew the most emotion from you. From anguish to love to desperation, he'd made you feel everything over the course of your relationship. It was the easiest way to tap into emotions for a raw and real performance.

"You—You were?"

You rolled your eyes, refusing to answer him as he pulled into the parking spot in front of the apartment you shared. Harry tried to rest his hand on your lap again, but you twisted your body to face the car door in a huff.

"Don't be like that," he said. "You know how I get, I'm sorry. Let's go inside and I'll make it up to you."

Silence was your greatest weapon at the moment. It drove Harry crazy when you didn't talk to him, even moreso when you didn't forgive him right away. You supposed you both knew what made each other tick.

"You're really gonna be like this? When we have a whole week together?" he asked, his lips brushing against the curve of your ear. "What can I do, princess? Tell me."

Excited chills curled down your spine. You tried not to let it get to you, but you could practically feel Harry's grin as he realized he was wearing you down.

"Let's go inside. I wanna finish what we started, and then some."

You wanted to wait, to not give in, but, "Like what?"

"There she is," Harry murmured, kissing your cheek. "I'll let you sit on my face."

"You act like that's a punishment for you," you scoffed.

"Can't blame me for trying," he said with an unapologetic shrug. "Handcuffs?"

All that got him was a raise of your brows.

"Handcuffs on me? No, that's too much work for you," he said, laughing when you swatted at his arm. "Give me a little help, princess. I'm dying to get my hands on you. Dying, princess."

His praise filled you with warmth, just like it always did. You loved to hear him beg, to hear how much he craved your touch, and he loved to see you preen and blush and melt beneath the sweetness of his words.

Unbuckling your seat belt, you opened the passenger door. "Dying, you said?"

Harry nodded, his eyes tracking your every move as he quickly got out of the car, following you up the steps to the apartment. When you got inside, he lifted you up, and your legs went immediately around his waist, but when he tried to kiss you, you pressed a finger to his lips.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

Fighting a grin, you said, "That you were a jealous idiot and that you know I would never make moony eyes at a coworker."

"That's what you want?" he asked.

"That's what I want. And that you're sorry for trying to finger the truth out of me."

Harry sighed. "It sounds crazy when you put it like that."

"It does, doesn't it? It's almost as if it was crazy."

Harry grinned, not even the littlest bit sorry. "What can I say, princess? You make me do some crazy shit."

You only looked at him with raised brows. "My pants stay on until I hear you say it."

"Fine, fine, if my proclamations of undying love aren't enough," he said, shaking his head as he chuckled. He kissed your neck a couple times before you hugged him back by the curls that flopped over his forehead. After a deep exhale, he said, "I was a jealous idiot."

"And?"

Harry narrowed his eyes to green slits at you. "You're enjoying this too much. Fine, I was a jealous idiot and I know you would never make, what did you call it, moony eyes, at a coworker. And I'm sorry for fingering—" he sighed, rubbing an exasperated hand over his face, "for fingering the truth out of you. There. Satisfied?"

You beamed at him. "Very. You may now lead me to the bedroom please and thank you."

He shook his head, but did as you asked, commanded, really, anyway. "You think you run things around here, huh?"

"Think?" you asked, giggling as Harry tossed you onto the bed, following closely behind. "Baby, I know."

You held him close as he peppered your neck and cheek with kisses, laughing a little as he nuzzled you relentlessly. Your clothes and Harry's were quick to come off, both of you eager to finish what was started in the car. At the last second, you paused, a small grin gracing your lips. "So, about those handcuffs?"

Harry's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Nodding, you said, "Gonna make me feel good?"

"The best," he promised, kissing you once before scrambling off the bed.

You got into position, readying yourself for Harry while he rooted through your shared closet for the handcuffs. When he came back, he smiled, the gaze that roved your body nearly as powerful as his touch. When he climbed back onto the bed, he kissed your forehead. "Good girl," he murmured.

You beamed as he clasped the handcuffs around your wrists. God, it was good to be in charge.

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

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thatdammchickennugget · 6 months

Text

Just My Type

pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader

tags - hockey player and figure skater au

warnings - none I think

wordcount - 1.1k

a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested

The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.

Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.

Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.

After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.

Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.

“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”

“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.

Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?

You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.

Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.

“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.

“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.

You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.

“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”

Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.

“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.

“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.

Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.

“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”

“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”

The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.

He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.

Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.

By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.

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maraudersmyloves · 1 month

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Hockey player James who sees you in the stands and immediately acts as if he'd die if he lost this game. You're sitting there smiling, in his team's jersey, and send him a small wave (which he obviously returns) that causes all the air to leave his chest. He always does his best but this time he's on fire and he knows it's because of you. He lands another goal and the chanting of his name and loud yelling puts pressure on his ears but all he cares about is that you're watching him right now.

#headcanon #fluff #writing #marauders #marauders era #fanfic #harry potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter au #james potter headcanon #james potter fanfiction #hockey #hockey james is the hottest mf to exist #hockey james

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 8 months

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wake up call*

warnings: somnophilia(established beforehand), oral sex, overstimulation

pairing: nhl player harry x reader

summary: in which harry comes home after a long flight to a wonky ac and a wife who’s fast asleep

masterlist | taglist

harry heaves out a deep sigh of relief as he finally crosses the threshold into his home, dropping his bag right at his feet as he takes off his shoes, bending down to at least move them out of the middle of the floor, and when he comes up, he realizes that there’s a bit of sweat starting to gather above his lip. he quickly wipes it off and sheds his hoodie as he makes his way upstairs, stopping at the thermostat.

upon inspection of the small dial that’s on the wall, he realizes that the temperature in the house is way hotter than the actual numbers on the screen. he takes the change and turns it down just a bit more for good measure, and he sighs in relief when he hears the sound of the air conditioning finally blowing throughout the house.

then he’s finally making the final trek to the bedroom, making sure he’s quiet as he opens his bedroom door. he makes a beeline for the closet, not even bothering to look at the bed where he knows yn is asleep. once in the closet, he tosses the hoodie into the hamper and takes off his shorts before doing the same, leaving him in just his boxers.

when he finally steps out of the closet, though, he’s stopping dead in his tracks and his breath is hitching as he takes in the sight before him. lying in the center of the bed is yn, fast asleep. that’s not unusual, though. it’s the fact that she’s naked. it’s not atypical for her to go without clothes every now and then, but the part that caught his eye the most is that she’s not under the blankets like she usually is. she’s atop the blankets, no doubt due to how hot the house was just a few minutes prior.

he can tell that her body is now adjusting to the change, though, because as his eyes trail over her figure, they stop right at her chest, where her nipples are hard from the slight chill. and what kind of husband would he be if he didn’t warm his wife up right now?

climbing up onto the bed, he crawls to the centre until he’s eye level with her body, lying on his stomach and wrapping his arms around her thighs. he takes a few moments to press some gentle kisses to the soft, warm skin, moving closer and closer to where he’ll reside. he continues until he can’t resist any longer, swiping his tongue through her folds and groaning in satisfaction before pulling back to gauge her reaction.

her breath hitches and she squirms just a bit, but ultimately settles. he takes that as a sign to repeat the action, this time going all in. his grip gets tighter on her thighs as he buries his face deeper, swiping his tongue through once more before taking her clit into his mouth and suckling softly. the action is repeated a handful of times, alternating between each, until he can hear her moans start to pick up.

yn is obviously close by the way her hips have started to grind against his mouth and the volume of her moans, and before harry can realize she’s awake, he feels her fingers in his hair and pulling lightly, making him groan into her. at the feeling she chokes on a moan before her thighs are fighting to close around his head, and he feels her start to clench and unclench as her orgasm begins to take over.

she cums with a loud cry of her husband’s name, her hips grinding against his face as he carries her through the entire thing. he’s aware that she’s down from her orgasm by now, but he doesn’t care. he won’t stop until she’s physically unable, pushing him away from her sensitive flesh.

so that’s what he does. he continues licking into her swollen folds with contentment, listening to her moans of conflict above him because it feels so good but at the same time her mind is telling her she should stop. he has an iron grip on her thighs as he works her through two more orgasms right against his mouth before finally pushing him away. he happily pulls away from her and frees himself from his boxers, satisfied with the amount of time he spent buried between her thighs.

her thighs relax on either side of her and she’s happy for the moment of relief, her chest heaving. “jus’ stay like that, angel. y’don’t even have to lift a finger,” he coos, stroking himself a few times before laying atop her and grabbing one of her thighs. she doesn’t even register what’s happening as he lines himself up with her and slides home in one smooth thrust, the both of them moaning softly in relief.

a shiver runs down yn’s spine at both the feeling and the temperature of the room. “oh, poor thing,” he tsks from above her, grinding down so that his pelvis rubs her swollen clit. “don’t worry, i’m gonna warm you up.”

HELLOWVENSKSKDBDKKSKSNEKEK

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mydearesthrry · 8 days

Note

Would you ever write about Harry’s love language being physical touch ? I feel like you would write him so cuteee like him all needy and clingy and wanting to feel her all the time and even biting her because he just gets so consumed by his love for her 🥰

a/n: this was fun. thank u for the request! <3 new universe if u lot like this one?

warnings; nothing, fluff, brieffff suggestive content

“hi starlight,” harry murmured as he threw his keys onto his desk, smiling tiredly at his girlfriend sitting on his bed. “what’re y’doing?”

“studying,” she sighed, “my english midterm is next friday.”

“mm, i see. need any help studying?”

“really?”

harry chuckled, toeing off his shoes and pushing down his jeans down his legs, walking over to his bed. bending down to Y/N’s face level, he placed small kisses on the expanse of her cheeks, up to her cheekbones and down her ear towards her neck, placing his chin on her shoulder. her free hand that wasn’t holding a pen came up to wind into his hair, scratching softly at his scalp.

“you okay?” she mumbled, trying not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

harry hummed, inhaling deeply which led the scent of her body wash through his nose, covering his body in coconut scented chills. “jus’ missed you, s’all. practice was really bad today.”

“wanna talk about it?” she asked, placing butterfly kisses on the side of his head, his face still burrowed in the crook of her neck.

“i’d rather not, if that’s okay. jus’ wanna unwind and have some peace with you.” he admitted, head moving up from its place of solace in her shoulder, pressing another kiss to her lips before patting a hand on her back, silently telling her to move up in her space. the second she did, he slid between the small space that was left between her sitting figure and the headboard, situating himself with his legs splayed around her body.

“lean back, pretty girl,” placing his hands on her shoulders, he softly pulled her back, her head resting just below his head. “okay, what’re we studying?”

“um, just some quick facts about the odyssey, that’s what we have to analyze for the english major course.” she explained, waving her hand dismissively.

harry nodded before placing his chin on the top of her head, his arms wounding around her waist and his hands sneaking under her shirt, scratching softly at the skin of her stomach.

“god h, can you get any closer?” she laughed, not moving from her spot against his front.

“no. i actually need t’be in your skin,” he said sarcastically, although the genuine undertone didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. “i can’t promise i’ll be much help, but i’ll be here for cuddles and to cheer you on?”

“that’s perfect baby, thank you.” she giggled back, burrowing herself deeper into harry’s hold and getting comfortable against the soft material of his hoodie.

“love you, sweetheart.”

“love you, h.”

——

harry awoke to harsh beams of light assaulting him through his windows, a groan ripping from his throat. reaching out an arm behind him, he was met with cold sheets, making him turn his head in confusion. he was expecting the warmth of his girlfriend, but she was nowhere to be found.

until he heard the shrill sound of her laugh.

a grin covered his face as he ripped off the duvet from on top of him, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed to leave the room.

trudging down the stairs, he pulled his sweatpants up and tied them, just barely covering his fern tattoos. “starlight?”

“good morning sunsh- niall, stop! get away from here!” she scolded, slapping his hand away from the bacon she had bubbling on the stove.

“starlight!” niall whined, all but stomping out of the kitchen. “your girlfriend’s bullying me.”

“definitely not bullying you,” she defended, looking at the back of his head accusingly with a spatula in her hand. “hi baby, how’d you sleep?”

“would’ve been better if y’were in m’bed when i woke up,” harry grumbled, making his way into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist. “hi.”

“hello again,” she grinned, pressing her lips to his chastely. “missed you.”

“was jus’ sleeping,” he murmured against her. “but i missed y’too.”

“what are we doing today?” he asked, moving his head up but leaving his arms wrapped around her.

“uh, i’m not sure,” setting the spatula down, she rested her hands on harry’s arms, running her nails up and down the expanse of his biceps. “i really, really have to study today. i keep putting it off to hang out with you so i haven’t done any since wednesday. its sunday and my test is on friday!”

“okay baby, we can study if y’want. go to the library maybe?” he offered. they had a rule that the library was the one place that they had to study in, which meant no distracting kisses or cuddles. it was the one place harry promised he wouldn’t go on his phone in, and for his girlfriend, that said a lot.

“really?! you hate the library!” she gasped, eyes twinkling in excitement. it was true, he really did.

“really, starlight. if y’need the study time, you’ll get the study time. as long as i can be there with you.” he promised.

“ah! i love you, i love you,” placing small kisses all over his face, harry giggled and turned bright red. “i love you so much!”

“love you too, sweet girl,” he smiled and grabbed her face in his hands. “love y’so much.”

a gleam set itself in y/n’s eyes, twinkling with adoration. “you’re so pretty.”

“oh shut up,” he rolled his eyes, ducking his face into her neck and biting teasingly at the soft skin.

“harry!” she squealed, giggling as she tried to push him away, feeling his teeth pinch at her skin over and over again. “am i a dog toy?”

“mhmm,” harry hummed, placing kisses over the fading bite marks that were left behind. “m’favorite toy.”

“hey! no shagging in the kitchen!”

“fuck off, niall!”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry

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crimsonlovebartylus · 13 days

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Regulus, who Barty thinks hates him healing his cut in the locker room after another hockey opponent punched him during the game.

Barty: why are you helping little prince?

Regulus: because if anyone should punch you, it's me. don't call me that, Crouch before I spill alcohol on your cut.

Barty: who knew that figure skaters had aggression.

Regulus: who knew hockey players were such little bitches when punched.

Barty: he deserved it, he shouldn't have said anything about yo-.. *clears his throat* anything about uh the slytherins.

#regulus black #barty crouch jr #bartylus #the marauders #im currently brain rotting about figure skater regulus and hockey player barty again #starkiller #marauders #harry potter #JESUSSHDKKDDKD

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hab-a-nice-day · 1 month

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—The Montreal Canadiens boys and their pick-up lines to promote Tricolore Sports' game day pick-up 🥰💙😂

#Montreal Canadiens #Hockey #Habs #Cole Caufield #CC22 #Juraj Slafkovský #JS20 #Kirby Dach #KD77 #Jordan Harris #JH54 #Sam Montembeault #SM35 #Arber Xhekaj #AX72 #Tricolore Sports

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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starry eyes

summary - harry’s the captain of the ice-hockey team and there’s a house party to celebrate their win

warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, alcohol anxiety, house party, lots of kissing

word count: +3.2k

pairing: ice-hockey boyfriend!harry x college!reader

You arrived to the party late.

It was kind of your thing though, turning up late. If it weren’t for your boyfriend, Harry, you’d turn up to events weeks late or even weeks in advance. He was your personal calendar reminder, but unfortunately he had drunk too much beer to remind you what time the party was starting.

It had been the last game of the ice-hockey season and Harry, the captain, had brought it home with the final goal. He had scored and won for the entire team, which is why the whole school was now celebrating in his frat house.

Being the captain’s girlfriend, you had an obligation to be there but you’d take the opportunity to get drunk with Harry any day. Feeling euphoric with him was another planet of love.

“You ready to get fucked tonight?” Kora asked, laughing after coming out of the bathroom with a small bag of white powder.

“You already are fucked, babe.” You laughed, standing in front of your full length mirror and adjusting your dress. Harry had always told you that you could arrive to his parties in joggers and you’d still be the prettiest girl there, but you wanted to put a little more effort into yourself tonight.

Your black dress hugged your body perfectly and you actually felt really hot. Your tights were really sheer and had darker black hearts running up and down the length of them, your ankles and feet covered by your Docs. Your outfit didn’t show much colour so you added one of Harry’s red checkered flannels over your dress. Leaning into the mirror you rubbed your fingers under your eyes to smear away the mascara that had fallen.

“And you’re going to get fucked, our darling Y/N, by your champion of a boyfriend.” Sloane wolf whistled at you as you checked yourself out.

You blushed thinking about Harry’s reaction to your outfit and just getting to see you in general. You hadn’t managed to see him since the game and so you were eager to see him and kiss him for all he was worth.

“We ready ladies?” Bertie asked, picking up his phone and holding it out to take a group picture before you all left.

It turned out to be a video of you all being excited to party that Bertie added to his story, which you only knew because Harry texted you almost instantly after it was uploaded.

H🫂: juust saw berts story. get here quick but get here safe. i need to kisss youuuuu xxxx

He made you giggle with his text and everyone teased about how your relationship was still in the honeymoon phase 2 years after you’d got together.

It wasn’t a long walk over to Harry’s house, but it took you longer because you were all drunk walking and Kora needed to wee behind a rose bush.

The frat house was so busy to the point people were queueing up outside just to get in. The people outside the front door had created a party outside just to keep them drunk before they got inside, afraid to be sober upon entry. All of the ice-hockey team and their significant others would already be inside, since they all had first priority access. That’s the only reason you walked to the front of the queue, because you knew the bouncer and he’d let you in instantly.

“Suckers!” Kora shouted at all the young teenagers that were here to get a glimpse of their ice-hockey team players rather than actually get drunk.

The bouncer let you inside easily, along with your trail of friends. Each of you were just as drunk as the other, but maybe Kora was a different kind of drunk to the rest of you.

Once you were inside you were greeted with a chorus of hellos, since you were quite well known thanks to Harry. That and the fact you were known for being the kindest person on campus. You were always there to help others and never cared who someone was or where they came from. You were a good person and that’s why people trusted you enough to be friends with.

After hugging a few people, you made your way to the kitchen to take a few more shots.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see where Mitch was calling your name. You smiled and waved him over. Mitch was Harry’s best friend and regular weed supplier. Some nights you and Harry would drive to the beach and escape college life for a night, whilst sharing a blunt or two. It wasn’t something you and Harry did regularly, but it was nice to feel a different kind of high for the night.

“Mitch, hey bud!” You raised your shot glass up to him and then knocked it back with a sour face. “Congrats on the win!”’

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him slightly, not hugging him too tightly because you reserved the best hugs for Harry only.

“Thank you, yeah.”

He pulled his blunt out of his mouth and passed it over to you. You held it between your fingers and took a heavy drag of it, letting it burn the back of your throat before blowing the air back out. When you’d puffed it back out, you handed it back over to Mitch thanking him.

You normally would’ve taken more of a hit from Mitch’s stash, but you weren’t really keen on getting high tonight, Getting drunk was enough. Plus you’d rather get high off Harry.

“Y’seen H?” You asked.

“Saw him about.. twenty minutes ago.”

You nodded and stood next to him as you watched the rest of the room become electric. The music was playing some house party playlist off Spotify, you could tell. There was a group of people dancing with each other, another group playing beer pong and then just people dotted everywhere talking, shouting, to each other in conversation.

Many of the team players were hooking up with their respective girlfriends and boyfriends, only making you crave Harry that much more.

You kept bringing your bottle of red up to your lips to swing as you watched the room like it was a movie on a TV screen, laughing when you saw other people laugh.

Bertie came into the room with his boyfriend in towe, Alex, who was also on the ice-hockey team. Both of them served themselves drinks whilst talking to you.

“Hey, Alex, have you seen Harry?” You asked yet another team member of Harry’s.

“Um, not for a while, no. Sorry.” He shrugged and wrapped an arm around Bertie’s waist.

You smiled softly, but inside your heart was breaking over not finding Harry sooner. You were getting anxious to see him now and the alcohol was going to cause tears if you weren’t careful.

“Hey, Mitch?” You poked the guy next to you, who was passing his secret stash onto Bertie and Alex.

“Hm?” He leaned down so he could hear you better.

“I’m going to go try and find Harry.” You pointed to the exit of the room and Mitch nodded in understanding. He got out his phone and texted Harry that you were looking for him as well. He was a good friend.

Mitch made you check your phone just in case Harry had sent you a message, but your phone had no service since there was so many people in the building. You sighed and tucked your phone back into the flannel shirt pocket, with shaky hands. That was your first sign a breakdown was on its way if you didn’t find Harry soon.

You could handle your alcohol quite well normally, but only because you drank within your limits if Harry wasn’t with you. If Harry was with you, you didn’t mind drinking a bit excessively because you knew you had him to take care of you and be the emotional support blanket required if the alcohol turned into a breakdown. So, the fact you hadn’t found Harry yet and you’d definitely exceeded your alcohol limits made you very anxious and very aware of how tipsy you were.

You were glad you wore your Docs.

The amount of people that were crammed into the house was impossible, making it very difficult for you to see anyone beyond two people. People kept on tapping your shoulder and expecting a conversation out of you, but you had to politely decline because you only wanted to find Harry for now. You weren’t focused on anything other than finding Harry.

“Excuse me. Excuse me, please. Sorry.” You repeated over and over again as you tried to push through the crowds of people.

Thirty minutes later and you were entering a new room, this one even more crowded than the last. It was very loud in here too, or maybe it was because you were sobering up after looking for Harry for so long. You were simply going round and round in circles, but nobody seemed to know where he was.

Your heart was pounding what felt like outside of your chest from the anxiety the alcohol was giving you. You pulled the flannel around you and the collar up to your nose momentarily, breathing in Harry’s cologne just to feel like he was somewhat close to you. You continued through the crowd, getting pushed back by random people and your feet getting trodden on by dancing feet.

“Y/N!” Harry’s voice shouted over the crowd so loud you were worried that he would shatter his voice.

“Harry?” You questioned quietly to yourself, spinning in circles trying to find the source of his voice.

“Y/N!” His voice shouted louder and your eyes teared up after thinking it was just your mind playing tricks on you, after wanting him so desperately.

Then you saw him push a drunk guy out of his way to reach him. He smiled brightly when he saw you and you pushed through some more people to reach him, your brows furrowed in determination to reach him.

Your heart slowly healed itself as you got closer to him, feeling more and more comfortable and safe by the second.

When you finally met him, you went straight in for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his waist and you squeezed tight, swaying slightly as you held him close. The moment felt infinite and you wished it could’ve been as he wrapped his own arms around you, picking you off the ground slightly and onto your tiptoes. You laughed as he spun you in a little circle, holding on tight to you.

You laughed and loosened your hold on him to finally look at him. Both of you kept ahold of each other as you looked at each other, hazy eyes burning into one another’s.

“You look so beautiful.” Harry said softly and even though the room was booming with loud music, you could make out every word he said perfectly.

“You won.” You congratulated him on his game win and he nodded his head lightly.

“I was looking everywhere for you.” He said. “Been going round in circles for an hour looking for you.”

“Me too.” You laughed, cupping his cheeks in the palm of your hands. His cheeks were warm from the flush of pink that was drawn out by the beers he’d drunk.

“I thought you might’ve just been late, but then Mitch said he’d just talked to you and that he hadn’t smoked enough to hallucinate yet.”

You dipped your head and rested your forehead on Harry’s firm chest, right over where his heart was beating rapidly with the anxiety of finding you. Turns out you had both been as desperate as the other to find each other. Your arms dipped too, snaking around his neck and hugging him close again. Harry’s arms relaxed on your middle, underneath his flannel shirt.

Someone then bumped into the back of you and you turned around to see who it was, but Harry had already cupped the back of your head to keep it safe from any more bumps, whilst shouting, “Hey, watch where you’re going will you?”

He was known for being too kind to actually start a fight, but people did know not to mess around with you otherwise there would be an issue. Luckily the guy apologised to you both and everything was fine.

“You okay?” He asked, leaning over so you could hear him.

You nodded against his chest and brought your head out from hiding. His eyes were as bright as the stars that hung in the night sky and all because you made him feel that way.

“Can we go?” You nodded your head in the direction of the door, wanting to escape this sweaty room with all the drunk dancing people.

“‘Course.”

Harry took a tight hold on your hand and walked through the sea of people towards the door. Every time you lagged a little behind him, due to someone dancing a little too hard, he would wait patiently for you to squeeze through whilst still holding your hand tight.

You were half-way to exiting, when he stopped right in front of you and pushed you a little ahead of him. Both of you were still holding onto one another's hand, but this time you were leading.

“Can see whether you’re alright this way.” Harry had explained the reasoning to you.

You continued to move through the crowd and look back at Harry for reassurance every now and then, but before you could count to ten you were out of the room and could breathe again.

Harry quickly tugged on your hand and pulled around the bannister and up the stairs, making you shuffle along behind him. People were passing by and trying to stop Harry for a chat or a photo, but he kept on walking past with a smile with his only focus on you in his hand.

You knew he was taking you to the hideout upstairs.

The hideout was a small room at the top of the house, in the attic, that was filled with a pool table and video games on one side of the room and then the other was equipped with beanbags and blankets. It was yours and Harry’s favourite place to come to if you both wanted each other alone for a while, since no one ever bothered to come up here during a party. It was made even safer by the fact it had a pin-code to even get into the room.

Once you were both in the attic, alone, Harry walked you over to the beanbags in the furthest corner and flopped himself down backwards, making a dramatic sigh as he did so. You watched him with a smile as you did so, trying to cover it up when you noticed him looking at you with starry eyes again.

“Well, c’mere then.” Harry tugged on your hand to make you fall down next to him, but not hard enough to actually make you move.

“Actually.. I think I’m going to…”

You pretended to walk away but Harry was quick to sit up and pull you back to him, stronger this time so you did fall onto him. You laughed on your way down, cautious of where your knees landed in case you hurt Harry.

“No. You’re staying here, with me.” Harry wrapped his arms around your waist and held you against his body. Laying flat on top of Harry you felt safer than ever and were glad you went through those moments alone to get to this one.

You hummed peacefully as you snuggled your face into his neck, breathing the same cologne that had been on his flannel shirt - only this time it was stronger.

One of Harry’s hands pulled your dress back down your bum so if anyone walked in they wouldn’t get a free show. It was little gestures like that which made you so aware that you’d chosen the right guy to fall in love with. It was a gesture so small that people might even miss it, or call it insignificant, but to you it only made your heart grow for him more.

“Missed you today.” You said, your voice slightly muffled from being so pressed up against Harry’s body.

“Yeah? I missed you too.” Harry’s hand had now slid underneath the flannel shirt and was rubbing up and down over your back, a feeling so comforting you could call it home.

“You always get too busy on game days and I don’t get to kiss you enough. It’s unfair.”

“It is unfair, baby. I agree. I’m free to kiss you now though.”

“I know. I’m choosing to cuddle with you instead, in case you’re needed again tonight and you can’t sleep over at mine.” You lightly admitted to not being able to sleep without him by your side.

“Screw whoever needs me. I’m sleeping at yours tonight and we’re sleeping good.” His arms tightened around you protectively, afraid someone would ruin the moment.

“But maybe we can kiss a bit too?”

“Never going to say no to you, baby.”

You moved your head out of his neck and hovered it above his. You felt his hands move out from underneath the flannel and up to cup the back of your head gently. One of your hands stayed by your side and the other came up to cup his cheek again.

Both of you gazed your eyes over each other, sometimes dipping down to see your lips. Harry then pushed your head forwards with his hand and sealed your lips with you. He tasted exactly the remnants of the party downstairs, with a lovely mix of beer and whatever else he had been drinking.

You moaned when his lips pushed a little deeper, making your head follow his in an effort to not part your lips. Harry pried your mouth open with his tongue and made short work of tasting you all over, noting the taste of weed on your tongue. He tasted cherry sours too and it only made him crave more of you.

“I… love.. You… So much.” Harry said in between kisses, not wasting a single second more to tell you. You always knew it, but it was always a bright moment to hear it again and again.

You hummed in agreement, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He turned his body so yours fell off his and back onto the beanbag carefully. His body then hovered over yours, the weight of his chest pressing against yours and grounding you to him. You’d never felt so safe and loved.

You tried lifting your head to kiss him again, but his lips weren’t puckered ready for yours.

“No. Say it first.”

“I love you.” You told him and he could tell by the glint in your eyes that you honestly meant it.

“Don’t ever stop telling me.” Harry made you promise by linking his pinky finger with yours and then you both kissing each others pink fingers.

“Well, then don’t ever stop loving me.” You counter offered and Harry was quick to kiss your pinky finger all over for that promise.

“Impossible. Absolutely impossible.”

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purplekiwis · 1 year

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Summary: It's no secret that as a figure skater, you're fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty... and your ex's status as a player isn't helping much either.

Genre: Exes to Lovers (Enemies to Lovers if you blink 😉)

Warnings: it's angsty and smutty

Wordcount: 8K

A/N: ummmmmm holy shit?! you guys really liked this fic 😫 i wasn't expecting this amount of love for this AU at all but your feedback has been making me so happy! i really hope you guys love this last part as well💙

THIS IS A 2 PART SERIES | YOU CAN READ PART 1 HERE ❄️

OTHER WORKS BY ME

You couldn’t resist.

As much as you hated him you couldn't resist.

You didn't even waste time putting on your pajamas. As soon as you got to your room, you threw yourself on the bed, unzipped your jeans and finished off what Harry had started with the recollections of what he’d said and done to you on repeat inside your head.

And you didn't even feel bad about it as you laid in bed afterwards… motionless, apart from your hand that was still gently touching under your panties, playing around with the wetness as you slowly came down from the high. Honestly, you just felt extremely relieved… and sleepy, you were getting sleepy.

But the more you calmed down, the clearer your ideas became, and something Harry had said stuck with you. That last thing before you left - “now you know what it feels like to be left stranded” what the hell was that supposed to mean?

There was only one thing that you could think of that could fit that narrative, and that was you ending things before he got to take your virginity. As in, you made him wait for months and then just when he was about to get some, you broke things off.

As much as you wanted to believe that was the case and reinforce the concept that he was trash, that didn’t sound like something Harry would hold a grudge on... especially since he could have taken it if he wanted to. He was the one who suggested you’d take things slow. Besides, it wasn't like he had any trouble finding people to fuck with… as you were well aware of.

So why was he upset?

You couldn’t figure it out, nor could you figure out his reasons for doing what he had done earlier. Not the part where he stopped - that part you recognized had been some sort of vendetta.... but why had he kissed you like that? That hadn't been planned. You could tell.

He couldn't possibly be that desperate, could he? He had to be having sex, right? You probably would be if you weren't a virgin and stuck in the ridiculous belief that you should wait for ‘the one’.

Honestly, what a stupid concept.

Months ago you were certain that Harry was ‘the one’ for you and look where that got you.

Luckily though, you never blamed yourself for what happened. It might sound surprising, but it hadn't affected your self-esteem much or made you feel inadequate in any way... If anything, it had only taught you how real people function. Prior to it, you had a very black or white view of how things worked in relationships. Perhaps it was your innocence... but you had always thought that only bad lovers could do bad things.

Turns out that good lovers also can, and good lovers also will.

And no matter how much you try to taint your memory of them with anger and resentment in order to make sense of it all, you won't get to. The memories will always be clear and sweet and full of joy, even when reality isn't.

After what happened between you and Harry, moving forward in life was strangely uncomfortable.

Even though you thought about what happened by the bus all the time, it still didn't feel entirely real, or recent... more like a disturbingly vivid dream, or perhaps an old memory you only recently realized you had.

It didn't help that you hadn't told anyone about it - not even Niall - which was also weird. You felt as if you were keeping something from him, which to be fair… you were. It would have been easier to pretend nothing had happened if he hadn't been there that night, but he was, and obviously noticed how upset you were as soon as you got back in the car.

He still asked about it now and then, which was a little disconcerting and off character for Niall, but it was also the only proof you had that something had happened that night, and you weren’t completely hallucinating it.

In terms of your relationship with Harry, it had reverted to its previous state, which meant you weren’t talking or interacting in any way. You might have caught a glimpse of him at the rink or seen his car parked nearby, but nothing beyond that. He was gone like a ghost, once again, and you were mourning his absence.

But, as strange as it was to return to normalcy after such an unexpected turn of events, it felt good to be back on track.

To put on a costume, cover your face in shimmers, and take on the role of someone who wasn't really you. This girl was cheerful and optimistic; she wasn't depressed because a boy wasn’t in love with her. She had a lover who loved her back and held her tenderly while he danced with her over ice. And even if it only lasted for a short while, you got to share her joy, and felt it pour out of your own chest as the sound of applause took the place of the music...

And then that goddamn whistle blew.

Not just any whistle... but kind you improvise by taking the tips of your fingers to your mouth and blowing. It was familiar, for sounding so completely out of place amid the conventional clapping.

Your head snapped up to face the audience, eyes unapologetically searching for a particular face in the crowd.

Harry’s,

That was his whistling. The one you hadn't gotten to hear in months. The one you never thought you would miss if it wasn't there, but you did... a lot.

Funnily enough, you'd reprimanded him for doing it before, for considering it wasn't appropriate for this type of competition, but he always said he didn't care what other people thought; he'd cheer for his girlfriend regardless and clapping just wasn't his style.

There was no way this could have been him, though...

Harry hadn't attended your championships since your breakup, and you couldn't think of a good enough reason for him to come back now… unless he had come to see someone else, but if he wasn't here for you, why would he be cheering so hard for the competition?

You'd already given up on scanning the crowd as you skated off the ice, but when Niall turned to you and asked, “What’s Styles doing here? Did you invite him?” that stubborn, burning itch was rekindled inside of you.

“No, of course I didn’t invite him.” Your voice was quiet, but it still sounded startled. “Was that really him, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure… but you can check for yourself if you want. He’s sitting right next to exit B.”

You tried to sneak a peek, but you didn’t get the chance to because as soon as you got close to the border Paul, one of the skating coaches you worked with, came over to discuss your performance. As much as you would have liked that not to be the case, there was no truth in saying that the coach's arrival took your mind off Harry right then and there, but you forced yourself to focus. There were more important things. He wasn't the top priority. He was a baffling enigma.

“Do you think we did well? I got the feeling my landing after the Toe Loop was a little wonky…” You asked, concerned about the ranking. You were pleased with how you had performed in the short program, but the technical errors made during the free skating segment worried you a little.

Niall grunted a laugh in response to your question. “You think yours was bad? How about mine during the Axel? I completely messed it up.”

“We'll work hard to improve those for the next phase of the championship, which I'm still confident you'll be cleared for.” Paul attempted to reassure you before you began hurling more questions at him. He wasn't usually one to try and avoid other people's drama, but he did during championships, since his stress levels were already at an all-time high. “The duo that came before you were technically very good, but they had a big issue with emotional delivery, which is not a problem for you two.”

“Do you really believe that we’re clear then?” asked Niall, who was beginning to look a little more relieved.

“I’d be outraged if not, but let’s wait for the judges' verdict... they’ll announce your score at any moment now. We’ll still have to wait to see how the other pairs do, but I’m not expecting any big surprises.”

Sure enough, not long after Paul finished speaking, you heard what sounded like the beginning of an announcement. “Oh God, I think it’s happening- quick, someone hold my hand.” Niall stepped forward as soon as you asked, and when your scoring sheet came, you both immediately focused on it - scrutinizing all the details of the technical elements and program components of your performance. “Please, please, please, please…oh my- Ahh!!” Your muttering turned into a shriek as Niall’s arms encircled your shoulders in a tight embrace. You both laughed out loud and started jumping up and down as soon as you hugged him back. It was a thrilling moment.

Despite a few technical flaws, you were able to match your score from the previous year, what indicated that you would not only progress to the next phase but most likely also make it to the podium.

“It was well deserved, my dears… bravo!” Paul, who had been peeking at the sheet from behind you, commended with a clap.

“We wouldn’t have done it without you, coach.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but it was your hard work that got you here. I only made a few tweaks here and there.” In all of his extreme campiness, the man grinned broadly and clapped enthusiastically. “Oh, what an amazing effort and outcome! I can't say I'm surprised when you are my favorite skaters to watch… together with the new girl who arrived from Xiamen, of course.”

“Mei?” A flustered Niall asked upon hearing the coach mention the girl he knew well.

“Ah yes, she’s marvelous! I tried to pair her up with Maurice as soon as she got here but sadly, she refused. Said that apart from you Niall, none of the male skaters were at level with her and well, what could I say? She wasn’t wrong.” Niall's flushed cheeks escaped Paul's notice because his attention was drawn somewhere in the back. It was well-off because if it hadn't been, Paul might have had the urge to play cupid. If there was one thing he adored more than teaching, it was putting pairs together, especially when they were actual lovebirds. “Oh no, I believe I just saw one of my students explode into tears...” Despite the way he took his hand to his chest in dramatic fashion, there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Better go check out the situation over there now… but once again, my darlings… congrats, and good luck!”

“Thanks, coach.” You both spoke as Paul fled the scene. But as soon as the two of you were alone together, Niall turned to you and exclaimed, “Wow, did you hear that? How cool is it that she thinks I'm at level with her?” He grinned to himself like lovesick fool, “Do you think there could be any another meaning to that?”

“I think it means she thinks you’re cute.” That sounded like something one would say if they were interested. “And, has probably fantasized about being your skating partner, which won’t happen because I’m not up for trading you with Maurice either, but you should definitely ask her out.”

“Do you really think so?” You made a gesture as though the answer was obvious. “What should I ask her to do, then? I'm not even sure what options there are. I'm terrible at planning dates.”

“Hmm… she seems a bit competitive, so I imagine she would like something she could beat you at, like bowling or the arcade. But you could also play it safe and take her to the aquarium instead; that's always a win.”

“Oh man, you're really good at this,” He noted down your suggestions on his phone so he wouldn't forget them later. “Oh, and by the way, I didn’t want to switch partners either... you know how gassy I get when I'm nervous for a performance. I can't let her see me like that.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t remind me.”

Since Niall seemed to be distracted by his thoughts and phone, you took the opportunity to approach the rink's edge and have a look at the benches near exit B.

The sight made your stomach drop.

Harry wasn’t there.

However, there was a vacant seat in the back, suggesting that someone had been sitting there up until recently. You thought he'd stick around until you left...

Your heart had been racing at the prospect of seeing him after the contest was over, but now that he was gone, you were beginning to suspect that you weren't the skater who had enticed him to attend.

That empty seat - it sent your mind into a tailspin and brought back the one reason why you had broken up with that…

Backstabbing traitor.

Honestly, you were furious at your own stupidity for harboring expectations. He didn't care about you. Never had, never would. He only cared about himself.

Niall joined you at the border, leaning against it like you were. “We have to go out tonight to celebrate. I don't even care if we make the top three; the fact that we're sure we'll go to the next phase is enough for me.”

You put on a brave face. “Where were you thinking of going?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere we don’t have to drive to. My goal is to consume enough alcohol to have no memory of how I got home tomorrow morning.”

“Huh uh, and then it's up to me to put up with your drunken gibberish and drag you to bed at the end of the night… got it.”

“Eh, I'm sure I’d make it on my own... it wouldn't be the first time.” He half- shouldered and after a brief moment of silence, offered a suggestion. “I heard there will be a party tonight at the sports bar. It'd be fun to go, but I don't know... there’s a chance the hockey team will be there.”

You took a deep breath in, “I have no problem going if you want... even if they're there. I don't give a damn about them.”

“Seriously? Awesome then! It's going to be fun; you'll see... and there will be other girls there too. I think Natalia will, at least... I saw her posting about it on Facebook.” Niall reported enthusiastically, already animated about the plans. You tried to look lively as well, or at least smile a little.

“Will Mei be there?”

“Oh, I have no idea. I hope not... or yes, I don't even know.”

You forced a smile again, thinking to yourself that that was exactly how you felt about a very, very infuriating player.

It was almost certainly the worst party of the century, and you'd gotten dressed up for it.

There was music playing, but it was at such a low volume that it was completely drowned out by the sound of the television, which was, predictably, broadcasting sports nonstop. An NFL game was currently on, but you weren't even interested enough to bother finding out who was partaking. The whites were pitted against the blues. That was all you needed to know.

You and Niall had taken a seat in a quiet corner, wanting to hold a table in reserve for when the bar started getting crowded. That hadn’t exactly happened, at least not in the way you had anticipated. Several people had arrived, but none of them were especially fascinating to you.

There was an old man drinking alone, three suit-clad men in their 40s, a group made out of six male friends and two supportive girlfriends, a super fan of one of the teams playing who spoke more to the television than everyone else in the room combined, and, interestingly enough, Natalia.

She was the only reason why you stayed instead of going elsewhere.

When she walked into the bar and saw you and Niall, a look of great relief had taken over her entire face. She'd sat down at your table and hadn't gotten up since. Five consecutive beers later, Niall was already slightly boozed up.

Because of your early bird sleep schedule, you guys didn't typically come out for drinks much. As a result, it didn't take long for him to start getting a little drowsy while staring intently at the TV, leaving you to listen to Natalia's ramblings.

That was what you got for choosing soda over something stronger.

She had been telling you about how she’d went there to meet a guy she was casually texting with, but apparently the night had changed his plans and he had ended up going to another bar with his friends.

She still had plans to meet him there until the night was done but was currently pretending to be busy and unconcerned as payback. All he had heard from her in the last 2 hours was that she had ran into some friends and decided to hang out with them a while. “You know… just so he doesn't think I’m that interested,” she had confided to you after taking a sip of her beer.

Speaking of beer, Niall had practically passed out on top of his. He was officially knocked out, and you were going to have to take him home soon. This party was shit, but the mere thought of dragging your well-built friend up the stairs of your apartment was making you want to stay longer.

Fortunately, Natalia offered to help you carry him because she was also going in that direction, and ultimately ended up assisting you in putting him to bed, and using your bathroom as well. On her way out, you offered to walk her to the door, at which point she gave you a once-over and questioned, “Would you like to come to this other party with me?”

You blew air out of your cheeks. “Ha, thanks but I'm not sure I want to go out again...”

“Oh, okay. It's just….you’ve dressed up so nicely. If I were you, I think I wouldn't resign myself to that lame party we went to. I would have thought it would be a waste of that outfit.” She bounced on her heels. “Just for a little while? It's not far. It's practically right next door.”

“Where is it again?”

“At the other sports bar—I know, it sounds dull—but this one is packed because the hockey team is having a party there.”

You knew which bar she was referring to, and its location wasn't exactly what you considered to be right next door. Sure, it was within walkable distance, but it was getting late. A little too late for a girl to be safe walking by herself outside.

You realized that keeping Natalia company just because you didn’t want her to walk alone was dumb since you would be putting yourself in the same predicament on the way home, but you still felt bad knowing she would be walking by herself there.

Besides, she was right; you deserved to be seen by more people. And, especially by a certain hockey player who had been dumb enough not to appreciate what he had while he had it. The only problem was that, as usual, he wasn't really in the mood for being appreciative.

He was in the mood to be nasty, and his expression made that clear when he didn't look the least bit pleased to see you arrive.

The razor sharp glance he sent your way caused your confidence to dwindle. He didn't want you at this bar, and fortunately for both of you, you weren't in the frame of mind to defy his wishes. As a matter of fact, you had already turned around and exited the same door you had entered through, but then you heard him approach you from behind. “What the fuck are you doing out here alone?” His intervention stopped you in your tracks, but you never turned to face him. He crossed the sidewalk to get to you. “Where’s Niall?”

“In bed.” You responded candidly. “I just came to walk a friend, but don’t worry… I'm already leaving.”

“Alone?”

“Obviously. Unless, of course, you have any intentions of walking home with me, which I doubt.”

“Why would I ever wanna do that?” He asked brusquely, but his voice instantly grew softer when he noticed your dejected grimace. “Would you like me to?”

“Would it make any difference if I did?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You know what? Fuck you.” God, that felt great to get off your chest. “Seriously, why do you have to act so goddamn cold around me all the time?! It's aggravating!”

He snorted in disbelief. “Fuck me? No, fuck you. It was you who made me in this way! You broke me.” He got closer, until he was practically in your face. “How am I supposed to act Y/N? Tell me, how do you want me to act after what you did to me?”

“After what I've done to you? I was in love with you, you jerk!”

“Why did you break up with me, then?”

It didn't matter that you weren't scared of him, you still weren't immune to the pressure his eyes were putting on you. Your façade was crumbling. “You know why.”

“Cut the shit, Y/N.” He insisted, practically snarling. “You're lying to me, just like you did before. I saw it in your fucking eyes the other day, and I see it right now! Why did you break up with me?”

Harry’s agitating proximity was making you lose your cool. For the first time, you felt compelled to answer the question truthfully, so you did, “Because I found out you were cheating on me.”

His face fell. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harry. I saw your dms all right? ‘can't talk right now, gf’s here. i’ll hit you up as soon as she leaves’, does that ring any bells? No? How about ‘nah, we’re fine. she won’t get sus.’?”

“I swear to God, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Really? Well then, maybe you forgot the texts, but I'm sure you remember the nudes she sent you, don't you?”

“What nudes?”

“Stop, okay? I saw it with my own eyes! She was sending you disappearing photos. I’m not stupid, Harry- I know what that feature is for! And then you asked for more, from different angles, and when she sent them you were all like ‘wow. those look amazing’… Oh! and of course, my personal favorite, ‘definitely much better than hers lol’.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I am talking about a skater who came here in the last competition. The one you were going to meet up with behind my back.” He appeared to be totally lost as his brows were furrowed deeply. “Oh wait, I think I get it now. She wasn't the only one, was she? That’s why you don't remember. You’ve probably lost track.”

“I never cheated on you.” It almost sounded true the way he said it. Shame that you knew he was lying. “I might have talked with a girl or two while we were dating, but never with that purpose in mind and I’ve certainly never made plans to meet any of them.”

Your scoff was loud and clear. “So you want me to believe that it was all a coincidence that after you cancelled our plans that day, I happened to walk into the locker rooms and there was a girl saying she was going to be meeting up with you at the time we were supposed to be hanging out?"

“And you believed her?”

“Why would I not believe her, Harry? She showed me the convo. She showed me your profile. It was you!”

“Hold on, wait- you said she was a skater?”

“Yeah, and-” Unexpectedly, Harry started laughing, as if he thought this was some kind of practical joke that you were playing on him. “What are you laughing about you maniac?”

He kept laughing, but his laughter had become cynical, like he couldn’t believe this could actually be happening. “That bitch. That big fucking bitch…” He wrapped his arms over his head and started pacing aimlessly. “She came up to you and told you that bullshit? How did she even know who you were? ‘Cause I didn’t tell her… wanna know why? Because of this! Because I know how bigmouthed skaters are and I didn't want her to start spreading shit around.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, so you're admitting to it, then?”

“No!” Harry shouted; a bit louder than he meant to. “I mean yes, I talked to her, but none of what she told you is true.” You rolled your eyes, still not convinced. “I don't get how you believed her though. What, some girl comes up to you like “hey, sorry to break it to you but your boyfriend is a cheater”, and you just believe her? Is that really how little you trusted me? I mean, fuck Y/N…”

“That is not how it happened, asshole.” You responded defensively. “I overheard her talk with her friend, so I butted in on their conversation. I pretended I was just a fan of yours and asked her to give me the scoop. She got all haughty and told me everything, including the juicy bits.”

“What juicy bits? There were no juicy bits…” He brought his fingers to his eyes and rubbed them ferociously. His anguish was evidenced by the tic. “Why didn't you ask me? Couldn't you just make a scene? Slap me? Call me names? I mean, shit… If you had asked me I would have explained myself and all this shit would have been avoided. But no, of course you couldn't just ask. You had to break up with me through a text out of the blue, saying you liked someone else and leave me thinking you were in love with fucking Niall or some shit.”

“You thought I was in love with Niall? Are you actually insane?”

“Is it really so far-fetched? I mean, you two are always together, and when you're skating he's always holding you and touching you and whatnot. I always thought he was a bit too handsy with you, so it wasn't hard to assume...”

“Harry… Niall is my best friend.”

“What are you trying to say, then? That nothing happened between you two? Even in the past few weeks, whenever I would ask you something, you would always be like, “Oh, I was just with Niall doing this or that”. It was like- like you were rubbing it in my face.” You felt glad that Harry was finally speaking up and expressing his feelings, even if his words were still tinged with bitterness. “I went crazy on Tuesday when you told me he was waiting for you in the car. Just the thought of him taking you home and touching you like I used to made me so... resentful, I guess that’d be the best word to describe it. I wanted to get even with you. To make you feel used in the same way I did. To prove to you that I was better and that you had made the wrong choice by picking him. I wanted to give you a taste of what it was like and then take it away. Even worse, I wanted you to feel guilty about cheating on him, without any real gratification to back it up.”

You exhaled in disbelief, shaking your head. “So that's what that thing on Tuesday was about? It was revenge ‘cause you thought I had left you to go be with Niall? Christ, Harry… I never imagined you'd think it was him, much less that you’d care if it was.” You paused, taking a deep breath before telling him the whole truth. “I only said I liked someone ‘cause I thought getting dumped would hit you harder if you felt like you were easy to replace. I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing you had hurt me, so figured if you thought I wasn't that into you, I'd have the upper hand in some way.”

“Fuck, Y/N…You really fucking crushed my heart that day. I've never felt more miserable in my life.”

“It was your fault for having conversations with other girls behind my back. And just to get things straight, even if it was just sexting and you had no intentions of doing anything, that still counts as cheating and it's enough reason for me to be glad I ended things with you.”

“I told you already, I never sexted with her. There was only one reason why we were talking and that was because I was going to buy something for you.”

“What-” You choked momentarily. “What are you referring to?”

“Your coach said you needed to get a replacement for something. Something you didn't want to ask your mom money for because she had just bought you a new outfit for the competition.” You blinked twice, as recollections prior to that day began to flood back to you. “Do you remember now?”

“What, you mean like the new blades for my skates?” There was an urgent expression on Harry's face, as well as a look of impending madness in his eyes. He nodded his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Did you notice her skates?”

“No, not really.” You replied honestly. You supposed that your indescribable rage at the time toward her and your ex-boyfriend might have prevented you from noticing that minor detail, but so what? Why was that relevant?

“She was wearing Riedells, but she used to wear Jacksons, the exact same model you have.”

“Okay…?”

His hands touched your arms as he came closer. “She added me on Instagram, and I saw that she was selling her old skate blades for a good price. She had to get new boots and ended up changing brands, so she opted to get new blades too.” You were a bit baffled, but nevertheless interested in seeing where he was going with this. “The point is she was looking to sell her Jackson blades second-hand, and I was going get them ‘cause they were practically new, and even had that cool purple finish you liked and all that. The so-called nudes you thought she was sending me were actually pictures of her skates because I wanted to make sure everything was in good shape before I bought it.”

His revelation shocked you to your core, leaving you shaking your head in bewilderment. “Why in the world would you do that?”

He locked his wide-eyed gaze on yours, as if the answer should be evident. “‘Cause your crusty, old-ass blades were holding you back! You were off the ice sharpening them every 10 minutes. Everyone could tell. Even your coach kept pointing it out.”

“Yeah but why would you do something like that behind my back?”

“Because you would have thrown a fit if I told you beforehand. You would have never let me get them even if it was a good deal.” He took his phone out of his coat pocket and started fiddling with it as he spoke. “Here. Just for the sake of transparency, I'd like you to read the whole thing. That way you can get rid of any suspicions you might still have.” After some scrolling, he found the old conversation, opened it, passed the phone to your hands and waited.

His body language indicated that he was impatient for you to finish reading, but he gave you some time to do so. “Are you done?” He inquired as soon as you stared at him. Face now dotted in tears from regret upon realizing he was telling the truth.

“I’m sorry, I-” Your tone was broken. The moment after you handed back the phone, you practically collapsed to the ground, shielding your eyes with your hands to try to contain your tears. “I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions based on what that girl told me... she was lying and I- I fell for it like an idiot when I should have known better. You were my boyfriend, and I- I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I should have confronted you and asked for an explanation instead of just breaking up with you without telling you the real reason why.”

“Baby, hey…” Harry knelt beside you and supported your back, refusing to let you sit on the street floor. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We're talking. There's no need to be sad about it now. Come on, let's sit on a bench or something.” You stood up after saying yes with your head. As Harry sat beside you, his hand clutched yours. He touched it lovingly before and after he began speaking, “I'm really sorry too... for being too proud to question you about it. After your text, I kind of just assumed you had been using me to make Niall jealous and stuff. It made me feel stupid, which is why I didn't initially intervene when our coach messed up your practice. You were right, I could have said something, but as childish as it sounds, I saw that as a way to get back at the two of you.”

“I suppose we were both idiots, right?” You asked, turning your head to face him with a sniffle. “We’ve ruined something good just because we were too scared to speak of it.”

He chuckled briefly, almost painfully. “Yeah, I guess so…” His gaze paused on his feet for a moment before returning to you. “We could still um... try, if you want to.”

You sniffled once more, this time with a glimmer of hope. “Try?”

“Yeah, to get back together. If you wanted to, I can't think of any reason why we shouldn't.”

Your mind wandered for a moment. There was something missing from the proposal. Your heart liked it, but something more was needed. “Do you even like me, or are you saying that just because it feels like the right thing to do?”

“Do I like you? Y/N, I love you.” It was Harry's hands that lifted your face off the floor, so you had to look him in the eyes. Those dazzling, bright green eyes of his. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, I do, quite a lot…” With a big smile on his face, Harry brought his gaze to your lips, a silent warning of what was coming next. It was a beautiful moment, but the brat in you couldn't resist, “…considering Niall is still unavailable and all…”

Harry's fingers wrapped around your jaw and squeezed your cheeks a little. “Not funny.” His lips touched yours.

Your lips touched his. “A little funny.”

“Don’t upset me.”

“Why?” You nipped his lower lip. “What are you going to do, Harry?”

“It’s dirty...”

“Now I really want to know.”

He flashed a sly smile, then leaned over and touched your ear with his lips. “I’m going to take you home with me and have you make up for all the time you made me go without that mouth.” Your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he had said, and once you finally let it out, it came out as a whimper. His hand squeezed your thigh in response. “Gonna lick you too... make you cum… how does that sound, princess?”

A blur filled the distance between the bar and Harry's rented flat. The only thing you could recall was the warm dampness of his mouth stealing kisses from yours as he took your hand and led you there.

There were also reminiscences of kissing at the front door, in the hallway, on the bedroom wall, and finally on the bed, where you hurriedly undressed one another out of an intense desire to see and touch again.

Harry's eyes were filled with hunger. It was not surprising that a few moments later you were sprawled across the bedding, with a very hungry mouth lapping at the space between your spread-out legs. “You love it when I bury my face in your pussy like this, don’t you? Your thighs are shaking so much…”

“Can you really blame me? You're- ngh, so good.”

“Mmm, baby... when you're this tasty and creamy, it really isn't difficult. I could lick you around here all day…” He gave your pussy a thorough, slow lick, his green eyes fixed on yours. “Maybe I will,”

Holding his hair a little tighter, you let out a panting breath. “I think I'd cum a lot.”

“Mhm, you’d look so cute cumming in my mouth…” He lowered his head once more, this time offering not only his tongue but also some suction. “Are you gonna cum in my mouth, Y/N? Gonna let me lick it all up?” That was his final set of questions before he went down with the intent of not coming back up until he got what he wanted. From there, the rise was quick and easy. Within a minute or so, you were whining loudly and shaking all over.

“Mm-hmm… ah, mm… I'm gonna cum in your mouth. I’m gonna come in your- I’m gonna-” You muttered as you got closer and closer, until finally, that nice, warm feeling swept through your entire body, causing it to writhe on the bed.

Harry still licked you for a while longer, moaning at the taste on his tongue and mumbling something about how hot and wet it was. He was having fun, so you let him have it until your clit started getting tender, at which point he stopped and crawled up to kiss you.

He was being very loving and gentle, but his reproductive system had other ideas. The heat of his erection touched your skin, reminding you that he was probably already experiencing some discomfort from being so horny, so you told him to be still and got on your belly in between his legs.

“Fuck baby…” He moaned, letting his head fall back as soon as he felt your soft lips close around his tip and sucking it into your mouth. “That’s perfect… nice and slow, suck me just like that...”

You did as he said, not that you had other option because you had a sensitive gag reflex. You could never really get your head to sink all that far. As soon as your lips passed the halfway point in the length, you started to choke on it. You were a little self-conscious about it at first, but Harry had never complained. He loved your blowies regardless, and whenever you asked him if he minded, he always argued that what got him most was watching you suck with eagerness, not how far you down could take it.

Meanwhile, you always used your hand to make up for what was missing and tried to maintain eye contact because you knew he liked to look into your eyes - especially when they started to become watery from the effort.

“Yes. Right there, baby… that feels so good.” He praised when you began alternating between sucking and licking the underside of his glans. You could tell he was getting close. The taste of precum in your mouth had grown stronger, and the muscles at the base were starting to get twitchier. “Keep your eyes open, look at me. Shit, so fucking hot.”

You were expecting him to finish, but instead he breathed in deeply and gently guided your head away. “Did it stop feeling good?”

He smiled broadly and caressed your cheek. “No, it was too good, that's why I stopped you.”

“We didn't have to stop; you know I like how it tastes.”

“I know, but I don't want it to end like this; I want to try other stuff.” He explained as he guided your body up onto the bed and into a laid down position. His proposition intrigued you, despite the fact you didn't really know what he was plotting. He had your trust, even when he placed himself between your legs and opened them wide. “Do you mind if cum over your pussy while I rub up on you? It's more intimate this way.”

“No, I don't mind. It sounds hot.” You replied with a small chuckle, so he drew closer and rubbed his erection on you - collecting the moisture between your lips and continuing to spread it up from your hole. When he struck your clit, you moaned and let out a small “…that feels good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” His hands held your knees in place while his hips took care of the rest. Harry was right; it felt more intimate like this, especially because your pleasure was being shared rather than taken in turns.

Rubbing up on each other was all you did for some time, until things started to heat up more. Harry re-grabbed his erection, which was growing hotter and harder, and guided it down to your hole. “Don’t panic, I’m not going to push it in.” He warned before you felt his tip nudge your opening, applying just a bit of pressure. “I want you to want me to push it in.”

“God, you’re so hot.” It was impossible not to say it after hearing that sentence come out of his mouth. Especially being aware that his intention wasn't to encourage you to ask right away, but to assure you that he wouldn't do anything unless you wanted him to. He would always respect your limits, no matter how difficult it was for him to refrain from going any further while gently pushing the tip in and out. At times he would groan a little and push a little harder, but then, just when you thought he was about to give in, he would pull out and go back to rubbing around your clit.

“Push it in.” You blurted out suddenly when he was about to do it again. “I can't handle any more of this go, no go situation. It feels really good, but it's driving me insane, and I bet it's driving you insane as well.”

Harry chuckled at your directness. “Yeah, it is a bit. I'm dying to break you in as I’m sure you can tell. I really want to fuck you, but I’ll hold out until-”

“I don't want to wait any longer. We've already waited far too long.”

“Okay, um… if you’re sure you want to...” He smiled and caressed your legs as he spoke. “If we skip on the rubber, is that okay with you? It'll feel better like this… and since it's your first time, I'm guessing you want to know what the real deal feels like. I'll pull out before, so don't worry.”

“Yeah, I think I'd like to know how natural feels first...”

“You'll love it, I'm sure.” He climbed on top of you, seizing the opportunity to love up on you a bit when he felt you place your arms around his back to pull him closer. “I’m going to do the exact same thing we were doing before. The only difference is that this time I'll be pushing to get inside, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, pecking his lips again before saying, “You can go, I’m ready.”

Harry adjusted himself on top of you, getting into position, and then he pushed. Because of the foreplay, he didn't have to press all that hard for you to feel it slip inside. It didn't hurt nearly as much as you presumed. It was only a slight stretching, but it was a really pleasurable fullness. It was like, after all the buildup, your body was relieved to be getting what it had been craving.

Taking one step at a time, Harry’s hips swung back and forth to urge the rest of him inside as well. You were moaning under your breath from his thrusts, even though they were slow and tentative. “Are you alright? Is it hurting?” He asked when he noticed your noises becoming slightly louder.

“No, I'm fine- there’s no pain at all.”

“Good, that's awesome.” He said, clearly pleased with the news. “I'll move slowly at first. As we go, the pace will pick up a little. I promise to be gentle but let me know if you're uncomfortable with anything.”

“Okay but don't worry too much, I'm really enjoying it.”

“What if I do this?” As he asked the question, he moved his hips so that his tip was aligned with the inside spot his fingers always searched for.

“Oh- Mhm, that’s good.” It really was. It felt amazing- to be this close and full and have Harry holding you and grunting right next to your ear, all because your pussy was warm and making him feel good.

He began moving more freely once he sensed you letting go a little more. The sound of his hips slamming into yours was filthy, as were the sobs of pleasure coming from your mouths at every snap. “Fuck baby, you feel incredible around me.” Harry purred, “I'm glad we skipped the condom but being this close to you is driving my dick crazy. You're making it really hard for me not to-”

“It’s okay if you do, I don’t mind.”

You felt Harry’s head shake in response. “You before me.” He stated firmly, like that was an important criterion for him. His lips brushed up against your collarbone, then up to kiss your neck and your ear. “I’ll give you my dick all night if I have to. I don’t care how long it takes- you’ll cum on it.” He changed positions slightly and then, after checking his mouth for spit, lowered his hand and said, “…Perhaps a little extra would help-” before you felt his thumb start rubbing over your clit.

Your reaction was immediate – you twitched on the bed and made an obscene sound. Harry’s hips and thumb sped up in response to your moaning. “That's it, baby. Moan- show me what feels good.”

“Please nghh… I wanna cum, make me cum.”

“Fuck me, your pussy’s perfect.” By how tightly Harry’s other hand gripped your flesh, you could tell he was holding back not to burst. He usually held up well, but the time you guys had spent fondling had clearly affected him as much as it had you - not to mention the extra thrill of trying something new. “Come on baby, let’s go… just focus on the pleasure… think of how full you are-”

A moan and tremor accompanied your positive response to his words. “Mhm, that's me. You're full of me. It’s my dick inside you, making you feel good,” More spit was added to his hand, intensifying the sensations on your clit. “And that’s me here too… you can feel it, can’t you baby? Yeah, I know… do you like when I flick your little clit like that? It’s so wet… I bet it feels so good.”

Your unconscious was gripped by Harry’s words, that were forcing your mind to hone in on exactly what he was saying. “Oh my god,” You sobbed out loud as you began to feel your senses heighten beyond control and then, within mere seconds, your entire body was enveloped in a strong, warm sensation of pleasure all over again.

“Fuck- that’s right, baby. Cum for me- wanna feel you on my- Shit. Oh, fuck-” He pulled out at the last second – grunting as he jerked himself into spurting thick white cream over your clit and his thumb, that was still flicking over it to finish you off. “…Fuck yess.” That was his last growl, uttered once he started rubbing his dick on you again. His hand milked it down to the last drop, letting it sprinkle all over your swollen pussy lips.

Right after he finished, you looked into his eyes, and they were glowing. A big smile engulfed his face as he burst into laughter. His laugh was effervescent and contagious. You couldn't resist the urge to join him since the oxytocin rush was making you want to giggle as well.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m okay. I promise.”

“Good, that's what I was most concerned about.” He explained as he stood up. “Let me just get something to clean you up while we unwind, okay? We made quite a mess.”

“Yeah, okay- thank you.” In an instant, Harry left the room and came back carrying a towel that had been soaked in hot water. He sat at your feet and began cleaning you gently. You smiled as you watched him. “Was it good for you?”

He returned your smile. “It was you, so… how could it not be good? It was like, way better than good… but uh, I want to know from your perspective. How did you like it?”

“It was perfect- everything was. Honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect. I don't think many girls have a first time that’s this nice.” You tensed a little when you saw him inspect your hole; he touched it with his fingers and opened it to look. You had no idea what he was looking for, but you guessed he was just curious to see what had changed. “Am I bleeding?”

“Not that I can see, no. I was a little worried because I thought I might have been too rough. I don’t know, I wasn't planning on doing this today, but it happened and…” He paused, then knelt on the bed and kissed the area between your legs softly. They were appreciative kisses. “I guess I just want to make sure that you're okay and happy with how it went.”

Your fingers stroked his hair as he continued to kiss you. His eyes locked on yours. “I wasn’t expecting it to happen today either, but I'm happy it did, and I’m not saying it just for the sake of saying it. It was really perfect and no, not rough at all. It was really good... and special, like you wanted.” The sparkle in his eyes suggested how pleased he was to hear those words come from your mouth. “I’m really, really happy that it was you.”

“I’m really, really fucking happy that it was me too.”

taglist: @victoria-styles

933 notes · View notes

lenacosse · 3 months

Note

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

pairing: sirius black x fem reader

cw: strong language, smut, choking degradation

word count: 3,041

‘i could tell that you were bad news

but i kept messing with you, messing with you

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

════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No? How is it too far?”

“…she could have gotten hurt” James responds.

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

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

“She won’t.”

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

════════════════

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

“Looking wobbly (Y/L/N).”

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

“You’re cute when mad.” He smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop. Leave it be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fucking hate you.”

“The feelings mutual.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?”

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

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

“We’re doing that again.”

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

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

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

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cupid-styles · 3 months

Text

the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)

in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).

I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

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. . .

When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.

What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”

So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.

She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”

Easy enough, right?

But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice.

But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years.

She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.

“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”

She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.

Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”

Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.

With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.

. . .

“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”

She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around.

“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”

She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too.

She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him.

Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”

Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”

“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”

He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”

She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side.

“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”

“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”

“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy.

It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her.

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively.

“Can you shut the door?”

Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”

“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”

“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”

Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.

“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust.

“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”

“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”

Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.

“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”

“That’s awful for you, Harry.”

He shoots her an angry look.

“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”

“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”

Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.

“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”

She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”

He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”

She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts.

“What?”

“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes.

“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip.

“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?”

She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on.

“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”

It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”

He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway.

#writing #hockey h #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot

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avatar-anna · 6 months

Text

When You Fall In Love...

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

part one, part two, bonus, bonus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was love at first sight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*.*

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

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

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

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

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

"No!

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

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

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

"Y/n—"

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

You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up."

"Make me!"

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

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