Yuri On Ice Novels & Stories

Never put my love out on the line Never said yes to the right guy Never had trouble getting what I want But when it comes to you, I'm never good enough When I don't care, I can play 'em like a Ken doll Won't wash my hair, then make 'em bounce like a basketball But you make me wanna act like a girl Paint my nails and wear high heels Yes, you make me so nervous that I just can't hold your hand You make me glow But I cover up, won't let it show So I'm putting my defenses up 'Cause I don't wanna fall in love If I ever did that, I think I'd have a heart attack I think I'd have a heart attack I think I'd have a heart attack Never break a sweat for the other… Yuri and Dal sang next, crushing the co

Jade had gone quiet, her face a mix of worry and confusion as she scanned the rink, muttering something to Leo and Natalie. Well, that was that. I sighed, standing up. My guilt faded, replaced with a hollow sense of vindication. So much for stealing his position—*his fucking position.* But just as I turned toward the exit, he slid back onto the rink, cutting through the ice like a wrecking ball. I froze mid-step, blinking. It was so smooth I had to double-check to see if it wasn’t someone else. But no, it was him—Myles—gliding around his team with a swagger that was impossible to ignore.

Tamayo could not help laughing when he looked at Yuri in surprise. “Yuri Cash, your tendons just recovered. Do you want them broken again?” “You can try to break them!” Yuri replied coldly.

“Girl, I don’t know. I was driving and my phone rang. I saw that it was Chris and I panicked.” She put her hand over her mouth as she looked at me for a while. I knew that look. It has been the same look she gave me on my birthday and the one right before she set me straight about trying to play games with both Chris and Eric. That look meant she had something to say. And regardless of what it was, I was not going to like it. “Yana, why you looking like that?” “Girl, I wanted to tell you this in person. I almost forgot until you mentioned Chris.”

There's a thing that happens when you step onto freshly resurfaced ice for the first time of the season. It's not the cold, though the cold hits you like a wall the second you push through that rubber curtain, sharp enough to make your eyes water and your lungs do a little surprised hiccup. It's not the smell, either, that specific mix of freezer burn and old rubber and something metallic that probably has a technical name I've never bothered to learn. It's the sound, more like the absence of it.

The arena exploded the second their team stepped onto the ice. Lights flashed across the rink, music shook the building, and thousands of voices crashed together into one overwhelming roar. For a brief moment Lukas simply stood there and looked, not at the scouts…not at the cameras. Just the ice. It was fresh and bright…untouched and they'd be the first on it. A smile almost appeared before he could stop it and Viktor noticed immediately. "You're smiling, creep." "I'm not a creep."

the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, completely swallowed by the deafening thunder of the crowd. Before I could even catch my breath, a heavy pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind, lifting my skates off the ice. I laughed, blinking away the sweat stinging my eyes as Julian spun me around. He looked every bit the golden-boy team captain that he was. He was wearing my number and that made me blush. "I knew you’d pull it off, beautiful," Julian shouted over the noise, his blue eyes gleaming with an intensity that made my chest tighten. "You’re a literal goddess on this ice."

Jaxson The ice beneath my blades didn't feel like ice anymore. It felt like concrete. The roar of ten thousand people inside the Eastern Arena was a deafening, vibrating wall of sound that rattled the plexiglass and made the floorboards shudder, but it didn't reach me. I was trapped in a vacuum of pure, freezing silence. Every breath I took tasted like copper, stale sweat, and old blood. My chest felt hollowed out, as if someone had reached inside my ribcage during the morning skate, wrapped their fingers around my heart, and ripped out everything that made me human.

"He's right. It's off." "Wow. Thanks." "You're dropping your elbow on the follow-through. That's why it's sailing wide." I step onto the ice without really deciding to, grab a stick from the rack by the boards. "Here." I don't know what I'm doing. I have homework. I have a curfew, technically, though nobody enforces it for me. I have a girlfriend who isn't really my girlfriend and a father who measures my worth in goals and a whole life waiting for me that I'm supposed to want, and instead I'm standing on the ice at ten at night showing a scholarship kid how to fix his wrist shot because some part of me wanted an excuse to be near him and didn't want to admit it.

And next to her was Cole. Of course Cole was here. Probably Sophia's plus-one. Probably here to watch me play and hope I failed. But he was so lucky he wasn’t playing with me o this round. I would have ended him right here on this ice. I looked away, focused on the opposing team skating onto the ice. The Edinburgh Raptors. Duncan's team. They looked good, well-trained, synchronized, confident. But not good enough to beat us. The ref dropped the puck and the game started.