Do You Wanna Build A Snowman? - Viktor Nikiforov x Reader

All we know (Pt.4) - Y.Plizetsky x Reader x V.Nikiforov

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"Because I don't want them to sully your name like that." She reasons, leaning her weight on one hand and pressing her vacant one against her tightening chest,

"I've watched you work your way up to the top just to get where you are and I don't want them stepping on it and calling you names." She feels the tears she desperately wants to shed for the boy slip pass her defenses as she looks him in the eye before shaking her head and curling in on herself, her back facing him.

(Y/N) feels the bed dip underneath Yurio's weight as he shifts, "It doesn't matter." The teen sighs and she chances a little sidewards glance at him from where she had her cheek pressed up against her knee.

He was running a hand through his long blond locks, "I don't give a rat's ass about what they think of me."

The bold declaration of his apparent nonchalance about the world's opinion slightly frustrated her. How can he not care?

Five years ago, he literally cried over being referred to as a 'second best', now he doesn't even flinch when the same term was used to describe him as they compared him with Viktor.

It angered (Y/N) because she knew they were wrong, because even though she loved -still loves- Viktor, she had always loved -and will always love- Yurio for who he truly is and not just because of who he is on ice.

Because unlike everyone else who just loves this wide-eyed blond for being beautiful, graceful, handsome, and growing to be the very embodiment of the Adonis that he now is, (Y/N) loves him for being the hot-tempered, testy, ill-mouthed and feline-loving tsundere little boy he truly is.

Looking up at the young man with tear-stained eyes, she registers the long blond hair that is tossed over one of his shoulders, his toned physique and fair skin and those worried set of green hues. He looks utterly disconcerted as he is mildly frustrated and at a loss of what he could do to ease her crying.

She had taken care of this boy with Viktor within their own little set-up of an ideal family life. She had seen this boy break, stumble and fall; had seen him hope and fail and rise again; she had been there when he was so desperately searching for Agape, had partaken in his journey and shared his joys as he found it.

For those bigots who had nothing else to do with their own lives to trample on this boy that she had practically helped raise was more than her heart could handle.

"I... I just," she doesn't know what to say, she only looks down at the sheets and mentally curses her eyes for wondering towards the parts that pooled on the Russian skater's waist. Heat rises to her cheeks and both of her hands were quick to find their way to cover her face.

"(Y-y/n)? It's alright okay? I don't mind." She feels the teen scooting closer to her and then an arm went around her shoulders to pull her closer until she is laying against his chest once more, "I only ever cared about the opinions of those whom I love."

He places his head on top of hers and she feels his warm breath fanning her hair, "Of your's, grandpa's, katsudon's, Yuko's, the triplets', beka's, and -as much as it pains me to admit- even that stupid old oaf's. But I hate him too much right now to even bother considering him as a former rinkmate."

For reasons entirely unknown, her low-key motherly senses somehow manages to kick in, "You're my baby!" The (H/C) young woman suddenly jumps up much to the blond's surprise, "I don't want them calling you crap names they thought with their unimaginative little brains when they don't even know who you really are!" She whines as she hugs and unconsciously squeezes the blond face-flat against her chest.