˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ @musesacquired - Tumblr Blog

seated rivalry...

★ amber glenn x fem reader, fluff (but maybe suggestive at the end?), 1.5k words

summary/note: these pics have always driven me insane so ofc i had to write about reader sitting on amber's lap with some bickering in between!

—

Most skaters wore their sore legs after training sessions as a badge of honor, some kind of internal message that signified their athletic accomplishments on the rink that day.

But in all honesty, honor was the last thing on your mind when your legs were shaking as you waited for the train. Torture seemed more like it—you knew how ridiculous you looked when your legs quivered every few seconds, despite the fact you were literally sitting down.

And Amber Glenn staring at you worriedly every few seconds didn’t make things any better.

Polite as ever, she’d ask every few minutes if everything was alright. Each time, you’d shake it off with a playful joke or a shrug of your shoulders.

“I’m just so excited to get on the train that I’m shaking,” you joked, hoping that would be your last for the night. Amber didn’t buy this for a second, and you could tell that immediately, but neither of you said anything about it.

You didn’t know Amber very well. At minimum, you knew the basics: she was nice, outgoing, liked playing nerdy card games you thought nobody actually cared about—but you never really had the chance to get to know her better than that.

As far as you knew, the only thing that tied you two together was the fact you happened to share the same training rink sometimes. Which wasn’t a lot. But that was just the way it was.

The good thing was that it didn’t matter too much; the train was coming in a couple minutes, and then it would all be over. She’d be seated on her end of the train, and you’d be on yours. This would all become a distant, yet agonizing memory for you to think of that neither of you would need to speak about ever again.

But every time Amber shot a glance your way, concern laced in her eyes, you couldn’t help but feel something deep in your chest. Whatever that something was, though, you didn’t know—and maybe you didn’t want to know!

All you wanted was to go home.

When the train finally arrived, you stood up so quickly that your knees instantly strained with the effort. You knew Amber saw it happen, but again, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

So, sure, maybe you might have limped a bit on your way to the opening train doors, but did that affect you? Did you care? Not at all!

At some point, Amber appeared beside you and wordlessly offered her arm for support, but you were so close to entering the subway that you pretended not to see it.

That was, until you were actually inside the subway and realized that basically no seats were available.

None except for one.

Well, that was just great.

When Amber withdrew her arm, her gaze seemed to follow yours. “Hey, you can sit there if you want,” she said.

The doors were closing, and your legs still ached like hell, but you were trying your hardest now to pretend they weren’t. Stubbornness wasn’t a quality that got anyone far, you knew that, but you’d already lied about your legs not hurting this much already–what was a few more lies, anyway?

And also, you didn’t want Amber to worry. You two hardly knew each other as it was.

“What? No. You should sit there,” you said. “You’re the Olympic champion.”

“Well, I wasn’t quite the champion, I actually only medaled in the team event, but—“

She stopped herself, clearing her throat. “Please, sit. You know, I actually like standing more than sitting.”

“Cool. So do I.”

“Do you?” she asked skeptically, eyes darting down to your legs. In response, you steadied them as best you could.

“Of course,” you replied. “Getting my standing goal in.” You pointed to your wrist to emphasize the fact, but quickly drew your hand back when you realized you didn’t have an Apple watch. “I have it on a Google Sheet at home” was your next form of explanation.

“You have your standing goal on a Google Sheet?” she repeated, barely trying to bite back her smile.

“No, an Excel sheet.” Maybe changing the story wasn’t the best course of action, but there was a chance going into the specifics would allow it to pass off as more believable.

“But you just said a Google Sheet.”

“They’re basically the same thing.”

“They’re basically not.”

“You know what? I strongly encourage you to take the seat instead,” you said, changing the subject. At least if she sat down, you wouldn’t have to deal with this for the rest of the ride home. “My pleasure. Looks pretty roomy and comfortable.”

“Maybe for you,” she replied. “But I like standing.”

“I know, you told me that already.”

“So that’s why you should sit there.”

“No, you should sit there.”

You didn’t know quite exactly how you ended up in a battle of courtesy with Amber, but somehow it just happened. And it also looked like there was no way out of it; you were in far too deep to concede now.

“Fine, then,” Amber said at once. “I’ll sit.”

She didn’t stop looking at you, though. She just crossed her arms and maintained eye contact, waiting for you to say something.

But there was nothing to say. You just crossed your arms as well and waited for her to look away—but she never did.

“What?” you had to ask once her stupid gaze felt unbearable.

“Feel like changing your mind yet?”

“Why would I do that?” Immediately after saying this, you had to stabilize yourself with the subway pole when your legs almost gave out entirely.

To this, Amber laughed. In response, you just glared at her.

“Come on. Sit down,” she asserted with finality, standing up from her seat and offering it to you.

“You sit down. Olympic gold medalist.”

Amber looked you over one more time, and once she finished, sighed with a smile. “God, you are impossible,” she said.

Then, just as you wanted, Amber seated herself back down. But this time, she patted her lap while gesturing toward you.

“The both of us can sit. Great compromise,” she said.

At first, you weren’t sure you were reading the situation correctly. “And where am I going to sit?” you asked.

She just shrugged. “On my lap. Best of both worlds.”

You took a few more seconds to compute this, trying your hardest to come to the most logical conclusion you could despite your brain short-circuiting. Sure enough, it still didn’t click completely.

Upon your silence, Amber just smirked and said, “Something wrong?”

You shook your head.

On one hand, your legs were killing you. On the other hand, you would rather die than sit on Amber’s lap right now. The million-dollar question here: which was worse?

Or maybe the worst part wasn’t either of those, but rather the fact Amber was watching you so smugly. Like she could listen in on the internal debate going on in your head, and she knew exactly how she backed you into a corner.

And she was successful. There was nothing else you could do other than acquiesce and begrudgingly sit on her lap, your legs a lot more grateful for the fact than your brain.

Right after you sat down, the train jerked so violently that you almost fell off—but just in time, Amber managed to catch you by your hips.

A searing blush crept into your cheeks and up your ears—you couldn’t help it; any reasonable person on this planet would’ve done the exact same, and all you could do was thank god she couldn’t see your face right now.

“That almost ended terribly,” she mused, her smile audible through her tone. And, given how physically close you two were, she only needed to speak the words at a volume barely above a whisper. That softness, that lowness in her voice, sent shivers down your spine.

When her arms removed themselves from your sides, you found yourself silently wishing they never left.

Then, to give your legs more rest, you adjusted yourself more comfortably on Amber, your back fully pressed into her. Against your body, Amber felt solid, strong. Warm, especially, as if you could melt into her if you really wanted to.

Eventually your legs, along with every other part of your body, went numb.

“Don’t worry, you’re almost home,” Amber reminded you after a few more minutes. “Then you can finally get off me, which I already know you’re dying to do.”

If only she knew that really wasn’t the truth.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “It’s nice.”

“Better than getting your standing goal in?”

“Only a bit more.”

Amber seemed to find this funny. When she chuckled, or when she said anything really, her body vibrated against yours. “Hang in a little longer,” she told you.

You counted every inhale and exhale she took until the train reached your stop.

“Are you going to have trouble getting up?” Amber asked, ever the responsible woman.

Not finding any worth in lying anymore, you just nodded your head and prepared yourself to stand on legs you nearly forgot how to use. But Amber, placing her hands on your hips, lifted both of you up as if you were a singular unit.

“That help?”

As soon as you separated, the warmth on your back from Amber vanished disappointingly fast.

Although you were standing now, using the pole to support yourself again, there was something in you that didn’t want to leave. Sure, it could’ve easily been due to how weak your legs were, but you knew that wasn’t the full truth.

You didn’t want to say goodbye to Amber.

“So,” she said, not moving an inch either. “The more I think about it, the more I think you might have trouble leaving the station, too. It’s a pretty long walk.”

“You’re right. Probably need your help with that, too.”

“And, you know, I’m also kinda getting the feeling you might need some help walking home, too? Like, just in case?”

“No, yeah. Totally.”

“And then, just so we’re super sure, I could help you get to bed? Maybe even check out that standing goal Excel sheet you were talking about?”

“Exactly.”

To that, Amber smirked, and you almost dropped to the ground.