𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 pt.1 (amber glenn x fem!oc)
SUMMARY — you've been trying to keep your relationship with Amber Glenn on the down-low because of what your family might think, but one pic of you two kissing online could change everything.
WARNING — small age gap (18&26)
The first time you saw Amber Glenn, you had no idea who she was.
That, for her, was kind of a relief.
The ice rink was packed that January afternoon in 2025. Kids crashing into the barriers, teens filming TikToks, exhausted parents hauling backpacks and hot chocolate. You were only there because your little brother had been begging to learn how to skate for weeks, and honestly, you'd thought it might be fun.
"Stay still for like five seconds," you muttered, kneeling on the rubber floor while trying to tie his skate laces.
Your brother was squirming like he had ants under his skin.
"You're breaking my foot!"
"You still have all ten toes, dramatic."
You sighed and pulled the laces again. The problem was you had no idea how to properly tie skates. And it showed.
"You're crossing them wrong."
The voice came from behind you. Low. Smooth. Amused.
You looked up—and there she was.
Tall. Dark coat open over a gray sweater. Black beanie tucked over blonde hair. No obvious makeup. Still, ridiculously pretty.
It took your brain a second too long to reboot.
"The laces," she said, pointing at your brother's skates. "Or he's gonna roll his ankles before he even hits the ice."
Your brother, traitor that he was, immediately nodded.
You scooted back, a little embarrassed.
"Sorry. I… I've never skated before."
"That explains a lot," she said with a small laugh, kneeling down in front of him.
You watched her hands move fast and precise. It was almost hypnotic. She tightened and crossed the laces perfectly like she'd done it a thousand times.
"Better like this?" she asked your brother.
She looked up at you then.
And something weird happened.
She held your gaze a second too long. Not creepy. Just… direct. Like she was figuring you out.
"First time here?" she asked.
You laughed, and she did too.
Your brother had already taken off toward the ice, leaving you behind.
"Thanks," you said. "You just saved me from a full-blown kid meltdown."
She was still looking at you.
You were still trying not to notice how attractive she was.
"Amber," she finally said, holding out her hand.
And the second her fingers touched yours, something in your chest tightened in the dumbest way.
"Got any advice?" she asked.
"Don't go on the ice if you don't know how to stop."
Amber tilted her head slightly.
"I think you'd last like seven seconds."
After that, everything moved too fast.
You found out who she was almost an hour later when a nervous teenager came up asking for a photo.
That Amber Glenn. The one competing for the Olympics. The one all over skating videos. The one sitting next to you holding two hot chocolates because she insisted on buying them.
And honestly… that was part of the problem.
Because you fell for her before you even fully understood who she was.
You fell for the patient woman who made goofy voices to make your brother laugh. The one who texted you good morning even from training camps. The one who showed up at your dorm at 11 p.m. just because you bombed an exam and needed a hug.
Not the Olympic contender.
Even though eventually, she became both.
When she won team gold at the Winter Olympics, you cried harder than she did.
You watched from your college apartment couch, shaking with nerves, hands pressed to your mouth. And when the final score came up and the whole arena exploded, so did you.
Hours later, you got a video call.
She was still in makeup. Still in the Olympic uniform. Still looking unreal.
But her eyes were glassy.
"Hey," she said, smiling tiredly.
And you started crying all over again.
"Don't cry or I'm gonna start too."
"You just won an Olympic gold!"
"Yeah, well…" she let out a weak laugh. "The first thing I wanted to do was call you."
You were completely gone for her.
Because nobody had ever looked at you the way Amber Glenn looked at you.
The months after that were chaos. Interviews, events, sponsors, fans recognizing her everywhere. And somehow, she still made time for you.
Sometimes she came straight from the airport.
Sometimes she fell asleep on top of you during movies because she'd been awake for thirty hours.
Sometimes she kissed you in the kitchen like she couldn't help herself.
And you loved her so much it scared you.
But there was still a whole part of your life she wasn't in.
Your parents knew you were seeing someone, but you hadn't given details. It was easy at first. She traveled constantly. You were in school. And honestly… you didn't want to hear what they'd say.
Because you knew your parents.
"Twenty-six? You're eighteen"
"She's in a totally different stage of life."
"What does someone like that even want with you?"
It wasn't just the age gap.
Amber was famous. Successful. Confident.
And you were still surviving exams and eating instant ramen three times a week.
But Amber never made it matter.
"Does it stress you out a lot?" she asked one night, lying on her couch while you traced circles on her bare arm.
"Not you," you said quietly. "My parents are just… intense."
"You don't get the level."
Amber turned her head toward you.
She waited until you looked at her.
"You don't have to hide me if you don't want to."
And that was the problem.
You just also wanted to avoid the disaster.
The disaster came anyway.
You were leaving a café with Amber. She had sunglasses and a cap on, trying to stay lowkey. You were laughing at something she'd just said when she grabbed your waist and kissed you—quick, casual.
By the next morning, they were online.
By the afternoon, your mom was calling you for the third time.
You stared at your phone, heart hammering way too hard.
Amber was sitting across the hotel kitchen, watching you in silence.
"I have to pick up, right?"
You let out a shaky laugh.
"I'd rather take another final exam."
"Come here for a second."
You walked over, and she took your hand, kissing your knuckles.
"We didn't do anything wrong."
And you hated that she was right, because it didn't make you any less terrified.
"Who the hell is Amber Glenn?"
But even as panic rose in your throat, you felt Amber's thumb slowly rubbing your hand.
Like she was saying: I've got you.
And maybe that was the worst part.
That after eight months—after secrets, fear, and excuses—you couldn't imagine your life without her anymore.
Sunday came way too fast.
All week you'd been trying to convince yourself it wouldn't be that bad. That maybe your parents would've gotten over the initial shock by now. That maybe, just maybe, they could act like normal human beings for a few hours.
Yeah… you were being wildly optimistic.
The invite to the barbecue had popped up Thursday night in the family group chat from your aunt Laura.
"Sunday at Grandma's! It's been forever since we've all gotten together ❤️"
Normally, it would've just been a regular family hangout. Meat burning on the grill, kids running around the yard, dumb arguments about sports, way too much food.
Except this time, everybody knew something.
The photos were already everywhere.
Not just on Amber Glenn fan accounts, but on sports pages, TikTok, even those obnoxiously invasive articles breaking down 'the mysterious college girlfriend' of the Olympic champion.
Your cousin Lucas had even dropped a link in the group chat followed by:
You wanted to disappear off the face of the earth.
Your parents hadn't let it go since.
Your mom had gone too quiet, which was worse than yelling.
And your dad had that tight-jaw thing going on, like he was actively trying not to say everything he was thinking.
Sunday morning you woke up fully prepared to fake a terminal illness.
Amber was in your apartment kitchen when you came out of your room. She was wearing an oversized gray hoodie, making coffee while low music played from her phone on the counter.
She glanced over when she heard you.
You, meanwhile, had been up since 7 a.m. spiraling.
"I don't wanna go," you said.
Amber let out a small laugh.
"No, seriously. I think I'd rather get hit by a car."
"That would make the day kinda complicated," she said dryly.
You gave her a drained look as you walked over.
"Why are you so chill about this?"
She set the spoon down and studied you for a second.
"Because I'm not dating your family. I'm dating you."
Her saying the simplest thing in the world like it wasn't completely wrecking your chest.
You leaned into her immediately, hiding your face in her shoulder.
"They're gonna hate you."
"They can't hate me yet. They barely know me."
"That's never stopped my relatives before."
Amber actually laughed at that, the sound rumbling in her chest.
Then she gently pulled back to look at you.
Her hands came up to your cheeks.
"If at any point you wanna leave, we leave. Got it?"
Because that was the thing about Amber.
Never made your fear feel stupid.
She just stayed with you through it.
The drive to your grandma's house was honestly brutal.
Every minute in the car made your anxiety worse. The seatbelt felt too tight. Your hands were freezing. And every familiar street you passed made your stomach drop a little more.
Amber drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh.
Every so often she'd absentmindedly rub her thumb against your skin.
Like she knew exactly what you needed.
"You want to practice possible questions?" she asked.
"Possible aggressive answers?"
You turned your head toward her.
You actually managed a tiny laugh.
Then you turned the final corner and saw your grandma's house.
And you damn near stopped breathing.
Kids running through the front yard. Music blasting from the backyard. Voices. Laughter.
"Oh my God," you whispered.
Amber pulled into the driveway slowly.
"I want to move to another country."
You just stared at the house.
Smoke rising from the grill.
Your uncle flipping tongs around like he was on a cooking show.
Everything looked so normal.
Which somehow made it worse.
It felt like you were walking around with a ticking bomb in your chest and nobody else could hear it.
Amber turned off the engine.
The silence hit instantly.
No discomfort. No irritation. No regret.
"You don't have to prove anything to anybody," she said softly.
You bit the inside of your cheek.
"What if they say something awful?"
"Then that says more about them than you."
That sounded great in theory.
In practice, you were two seconds away from throwing up.
Movement at the front door.
Before you could even react, he bolted toward the car.
Now the whole family knew the exact moment you'd arrived.
Amber let out a low laugh.
Your brother was already knocking on the window.
He immediately leaned halfway into the car to look at Amber.
He'd been obsessed with her ever since the rink.
Which honestly did not help your situation at all.
"Mom said Dad has to behave," he whispered conspiratorially.
"Uh… what does that mean exactly?"
"I dunno. But Grandma hit him with a spoon like ten minutes ago."
Amber had to turn her face away because she was very obviously trying not to laugh.
Your brother looked back at Amber.
"Cool. Aunt Laura thinks you're really pretty."
"Oh my God," you groaned, closing your eyes.
You slumped back into your seat.
Amber was openly laughing now.
"Your family seems… entertaining."
"You haven't met the scary part yet."
"Your grandma with the spoon?"
"My aunt Patricia after two glasses of wine."
Amber raised her eyebrows.
Then you opened the door.
Summer heat hit you instantly, along with the smell of charcoal, grilled meat, and fresh-cut grass.
The conversations started dying down.
Your cousin stopping mid-bounce with a ball.
Your aunt lowering her drink.
Your grandpa pushing his sunglasses up.
And you felt your whole body lock up.
Because hiding your relationship behind screens was one thing.
Showing up holding Amber Glenn's hand in front of a very opinionated traditional family was something else entirely.
Amber closed the car door and walked beside you like it was nothing.
And when your fingers brushed hers out of pure nerves, she just laced them together without looking down.
Like there was nothing to be embarrassed about.
Like loving you was the most normal thing in the world.
The walk from the front gate to the backyard couldn't have been more than twenty meters.
It felt like a public execution.
Every step on the grass made you hyper-aware of everything. The uncomfortable sweat in your palms. The sound of conversations slowly dying down. The stares.
Your family had never exactly been subtle.
Your aunt Patricia straight-up turned her whole body to get a better look. Your older cousin was pretending to scroll his phone while very obviously recording you with his front camera on. Even your grandpa, who usually only cared about the grill and baseball, was locked in on Amber.
Amber looked absurdly calm.
She was wearing dark jeans, white sneakers, and a simple black tee half tucked in. Nothing flashy. Nothing Olympic champion about it. And yet she still stood out too much.
Maybe it was just that natural presence she had—impossible to ignore.
Or maybe it was because you couldn't stop noticing how ridiculously pretty she was.
Your grandma was the first to approach.
Thank God for your grandma.
"Well," she said, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, "at least one of my granddaughters brings pretty people to family gatherings."
"Grandma," you groaned, horrified.
Amber, to your absolute emotional betrayal, smiled immediately.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am."
Your grandma studied her for a few long seconds. Not mean, just… assessing.
"You've got better posture than my grandkids. I like that already."
And she just walked off like nothing happened.
Amber leaned slightly toward you.
"I think I just passed a military inspection."
"Don't get cocky. You still have my aunts."
You didn't want to laugh.
Because then your mom showed up.
And your anxiety came right back full force.
She was carrying a huge bowl of salad, but stopped dead when she saw you both.
Your parents had seen photos of Amber already.
But photos don't really prepare you for seeing her in person.
Amber was warm. Charismatic. Unfairly beautiful in a way that almost felt annoying. And she had this calm confidence that made even standing still look graceful.
Your mom stared at her for a few seconds in silence.
You straight-up forgot how to breathe.
Her voice was careful. Too careful.
Amber immediately let go of your hand to greet her properly.
Amber nodded with a polite little smile.
"Thank you for having me."
"Well…" your mom glanced briefly at you, "the circumstances changed a bit."
Subtle, but definitely there.
Amber, meanwhile, didn't flinch at all.
That was another thing about her that drove you a little crazy.
She handled hard situations way too well.
Probably because she'd spent years being watched, judged, and picked apart in public.
While you were one awkward comment away from mentally short-circuiting.
Your mom opened her mouth again, probably searching for more to say, but then your little brother came running between you.
"Dad burned the bread again!"
And just like that, the moment snapped.
Your mom sighed in defeat and walked off toward the grill.
You stayed frozen for a second.
"That could've gone worse," Amber murmured.
"There's still hours left."
The real chaos started when your whole family decided they all wanted to meet Amber at once.
It was basically a press conference.
Your aunt Laura wanted Olympic behind-the-scenes stories.
Your teenage cousin asked how much she made in sponsorships and nearly gave you a heart attack.
Your uncle Roberto kept saying stuff like:
"I think I've seen you on ESPN."
While Amber nodded politely for the fifth time.
And then there was your aunt Patricia.
Your aunt Patricia—already slightly drunk before dinner—was basically a human wildfire.
You saw her coming and immediately knew it was about to get messy.
"So you're Amber," she said.
Amber looked up from her drink.
Patricia scanned her head to toe.
"You're taller than I expected."
"Aunt Patricia," you warned.
She completely ignored you.
"So… how old are you exactly?"
The entire area went silent.
Even your cousins stopped talking.
You felt your face heat up.
"Patricia," your mom said sharply.
Amber didn't even look bothered.
Your aunt let out a soft whistle.
You wanted to evaporate on the spot.
Amber slowly set her glass down.
And then something weird happened.
Instead of getting defensive… she looked at you.
Like she wanted to make sure you were okay first.
That tiny gesture almost wrecked you emotionally.
Then she looked back at Patricia.
Your aunt crossed her arms.
"That's a pretty big gap."
Your chest tightened again, but Amber answered calmly.
"It hasn't been an issue for us."
Patricia opened her mouth again, clearly ready to keep going, but a new voice cut in from the grill.
"Patricia, stop interrogating the girl or I'm taking your wine away."
You had never loved a man more in your life.
"I'm just trying to understand."
"Then do it quietly," he grumbled.
And honestly, that saved the situation.
Because even though the conversations slowly picked back up, the tension still hung in the air.
You could feel the occasional looks.
But then you started noticing something else too.
Amber never let go of your hand when you got nervous.
Every time someone asked something awkward, her thumb would gently rub your skin.
Every time you went quiet, she'd glance at you like she was checking you were still okay.
And the more you watched her with your family… the worse it got for you emotionally.
Your little brother was already obsessed with showing her video games.
Your younger cousins were asking her to teach them spins like in the Olympics.
Your grandma even gave her an extra slice of cake, which was basically a formal approval announcement.
And Amber handled it all effortlessly.
You watched her laugh with your grandpa.
Listen to your aunt Laura's endless stories.
Help clean plates without being asked.
And the worst part was you could literally see the exact moment your family started to relax around her.
But just by being genuinely good.
When the sun started going down and most people were on dessert.
You'd gone inside to grab more ice when you heard voices in the kitchen.
They couldn't see you from the hallway.
"I don't have anything against you personally," your dad was saying.
Amber stayed quiet for a few seconds.
"But my daughter is eighteen."
"I understand why that worries you," Amber said calmly.
You heard ice clink in your dad's glass.
"Then you'll understand why this is hard for me."
Your breath completely caught.
Because she'd never said it in front of your family.
And there was something devastatingly real about how it sounded.
Your dad took longer to answer.
"She's still figuring out who she is."
"And you've already got your life figured out."
This time, the pause was longer.
When Amber spoke again, her voice was quieter. "I'm not trying to decide who she should be."
Amber had never tried to change you.
Never made you feel small for being in school, for not having everything figured out, for being younger.
Never treated you like you were less.
You heard your dad exhale slowly.
"I just don't want her getting hurt."
And for the first time since the conversation started, Amber's voice cracked a little.
After overhearing that conversation from the hallway, nothing felt normal anymore.
Even though technically the barbecue was still going on.
Your cousins were still laughing out in the yard. The little kids kept running around the plastic tables with melting ice cream dripping down their hands. Your uncle was still insisting on blasting music way too loud through some ancient speaker.
But there was something weird sitting under your skin now.
Because hearing Amber say 'I love her' had changed something inside you.
And because you'd heard the real fear in your dad's voice.
You finally walked into the kitchen pretending you hadn't heard anything.
Amber looked at you first.
And you knew immediately she'd figured out you probably caught part of the conversation.
Her eyes softened just a little.
Your dad, though, instantly tensed up.
"We needed more ice," you said too fast.
Your voice sounded weird. Forced.
You grabbed the bag from the freezer trying to act normal while feeling both of them watching you.
The silence felt thick. Awkward as hell.
Until your dad cleared his throat.
"I'm gonna go check the grill."
And he left the kitchen almost immediately.
You stood there for a second holding the bag of ice way too tightly in your hands.
"I didn't know you guys were talking."
Because now there was this huge knot in your chest.
Because you'd heard how exhausted Amber sounded.
And because you were suddenly realizing how freaking draining it had to be for her to constantly justify herself.
You dropped the bag onto the counter harder than necessary.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"For this. For all this bullshit."
Because Amber had this unbearable way of looking right at you when you were seconds away from falling apart.
"You are not a problem," she said softly.
Your throat tightened immediately.
And right before you could answer, your mom walked into the kitchen.
Her eyes instantly moved between the two of you.
"We need more drinks outside," she said, even though she'd obviously forgotten what she came in for the second she saw you together.
Your mom let out a slow breath.
Then leaned against the counter.
"This is weird for us, you understand that, right?"
"She just started college."
You felt something inside you getting tired.
Because everyone kept talking about you like you weren't standing right there.
And there was real emotion in her eyes now. Frustration. Fear. Confusion.
"You're still my little girl."
That hit way harder than you expected.
"I know," she said immediately. "But suddenly you're online kissing an older famous woman and everyone's calling me asking questions and—"
"Older woman?" you repeated, staring at her.
Amber stayed completely still beside you
And you started hating that too.
Because you could tell she was trying to make herself smaller in a conversation that was constantly about her.
"She's twenty-six, Mom. Not forty-five."
Your mom opened her mouth.
And there it was. The problem.
Because no answer was gonna sound good out loud.
Finally she spoke quieter.
"She has a completely different life than you do."
"So I don't want you waking up one day realizing you gave things up trying to keep up with somebody else."
Silence dropped hard after that.
Because that was a real concern.
A brutally reasonable one.
Your eyes immediately went to Amber.
And the worst part was the look on her face.
Like she'd heard that before.
Like some part of her already believed maybe your mom was right.
That made something snap inside you.
"You know what?" you said, feeling yourself start to shake. "I'm tired of everybody talking like I don't know what I'm doing."
Your voice was getting louder now.
"I'm not some victim. Nobody manipulated me. I'm with her because I want to be with her."
"Everybody keeps implying it."
Your mom actually flinched a little.
Amber gently touched your arm.
"No, Amber, because I'm sick of this."
The words were coming out too fast now.
Months of anxiety finally exploding all at once.
"Do you know how awful it's been hiding her? Hearing comments about the age difference constantly? Acting like my relationship is something shameful?"
"I never said it was shameful," your mom said, hurt.
"Then stop looking at her like she's the problem."
That was the thing that broke everything.
Because right then your dad walked back into the kitchen.
"Why? So we can keep pretending everything's fine?"
"We're trying to talk to you like adults."
You let out this disbelieving laugh.
"No. You're talking to me like I'm five."
Your dad's expression hardened immediately.
"Because you're acting like a child."
You physically felt those words hit you.
Your breathing immediately turned uneven.
And then something even worse happened.
You turned to her instantly.
"Amber…" your mom started, clearly already regretting how bad things had gotten.
But Amber was already stepping back.
That calm expression was back.
The one she used whenever she was trying not to show too much.
"I don't want to make this worse."
"You're not making it worse," you said quickly.
But even while saying it, you could see the exhaustion on her face.
She'd spent hours being watched, questioned, silently judged.
And now she was stuck in the middle of a family fight.
Your dad rubbed a hand over his face.
"That wasn't my intention—"
"I know," Amber answered politely.
That even now she was still being nice.
And suddenly it pissed you off.
Because nobody was being kind to her except you.
Amber looked at you again.
"I think right now it's better."
She didn't answer right away.
And honestly, that was answer enough.
You felt angry tears burning behind your eyes.
"Awesome," you muttered. "Awesome. Perfect. Exactly what you guys wanted, right?"
"That's not fair," your mom said immediately.
Your voice was already cracking now.
Hated crying in front of them.
"You've spent the entire day making her feel like she has to defend her right to love me."
And for the first time since all of this started, you let the whole truth out.
The kitchen went completely still.
Even you felt the weight of those words the second they left your mouth.
Because it was the first time you'd actually said it out loud.
Not half-asleep whispers.
Amber stopped breathing for a second.
You literally saw it happen.
Your parents looked too shocked to react.
And you finally felt the tears fall.
"I love her," you repeated, shaking. "And I'm tired of feeling like that's something wrong."
