#day 4: rivalry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seokgyuu · 3 months

Text

What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here.

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale.

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!”

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier.

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise.

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks).

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation.

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together.

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights.

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer.

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all.

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes.

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?”

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move.

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it.

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting.

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours.

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode.

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed.

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you.

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.”

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek.

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious.

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up.

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin.

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you.

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now.

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him.

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs.

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you.

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier.

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end.

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life.

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you.

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you.

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish.

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him.

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you.

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there.

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you.

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again.

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it.

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt.

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans.

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath.

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours.

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin.

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.”

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red.

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t.

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again.

1K notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 21 days

Text

Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 4

Summary: a very bad snowstorm, bears in the ice hockey arena, and a one night only poster board pick-me-up. 6.6k words

Warnings: mentions of physical violence, small mention of alcohol

“So. You and Oscar spent a lot of time together over the break,” Lily says, carefully.

You roll your eyes and set the glue stick in your hand down, sensing this is going to be a long conversation. “We were the only ones here for like, a week. And we were bored. And then Max showed up, so it wasn’t just us.”

Lily isn’t looking at you. She has a wine glass in one hand and a magazine in the other. The two of you are making vision boards, which Max had called “glorified collages” when he called five minutes ago to ask about family dinner for tomorrow.

Lily hums. “He’s just so… quiet.”

You shrug and take a sip of your wine. “He’s not, really, once you get to know him. He’s just… it’s easier for him one on one, you know?”

Lily nods. You nod, too, and lean over to pick up another magazine. You flip through the pages, looking for whatever sticks out. Your friends collect magazines and newspapers and fun posters and give them to you, and you hoard them for days like these. A little sun drawing pops out at you from the page, and you reach for the scissors.

You clear your throat. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you were trying to say. We just. We had some movie nights, played some video games, took a couple walks. That’s all.”

Lily looks up at you and stares. “Right.”

You stare right back. “What?”

“Did you want something to happen?” She asks, and you freeze, the magazine page half turned.

“What?” You ask again.

“You said nothing happened,” she says. “Did you want something to happen?”

You stare at the wine in your glass, the way the warm light of the lamp catches on the red liquid. Your stomach swirls. Did you want something to happen? He’s your friend. Your study partner. He’s your best friends’ teammate. Did you want something to happen? He’s a sweetheart once you get to know him. He holds your hand when you walk by the soccer field and he doesn’t push you when you can’t do it. Did you want something to happen?

You shake your head. “We’re just friends. We bonded over physics trauma. We were just bored.”

Lily nods and reaches for the scissors. “Okay.”

You want to say more to defend yourself, but you think that’ll be even less convincing. So you move your focus back to the vision board and try not to think too much about what she asked you. It doesn’t matter what you wanted, anyways. He’d never see you that way, and if he did, he’s probably too scared of his teammates to do anything about it.

…..

January slips away faster than you’d expected. It’s full of syllabuses and assignments and far too much homework for this early in the semester. You do a lot of it at the kitchen table in the guys’ house, sat across from Oscar even though you’re not in a class together anymore. It’s just nice to have someone to study with, even if he has no idea what you’re talking about when you whine about your biology assignments.

February brings with it the warnings of a winter storm for the ages. On a Thursday night, you sit on the couch in the living room, giving your homework a feeble attempt. The guys are back from an afternoon practice, and everyone is settling in for the evening.

“You know who we play next week,” Carlos says, leaning over the back of the couch and looking at you.

“Can’t remember,” you answer, not even looking up from your book. “Not the Badgers.”

The Badgers are the Timberwolves’ sworn enemies. The rivalry game weekend is one of the most anticipated events on campus. It’s marked on the calendar in the kitchen with a dark red X. It’s weeks away.

“No,” Carlos says, raising his eyebrows when you finally look up at him. “The Bears.”

For just a moment, you wonder what sort of significance that’s supposed to hold. They play a lot of teams. Most of them, they’re relatively civil towards. A lot of the players grew up together on junior teams, and they’re still friends outside of game weekends. You’re about to ask if he has beef with a Bears player when you notice Oscar’s stiff posture where he sits on the floor in front of the couch. He’s been half watching the TV, half working on homework. Then you remember.

Oscar played for the Bears for two years. That was his former team. The ones who treated him so badly he quit hockey. You blink up at Carlos and pray he doesn’t take the route you think he’s going to.

“You know who used to play for the Bears,” Carlos starts, a lilting tone to his voice.

Oscar turns over his shoulder with a grimace. “Play is a strong term,” he says. “I did a lot more sitting than skating.”

Carlos shrugs and wiggles his eyebrows. “I am just saying. Maybe we should be worried that Piastri here will go easy on his friends.”

“Not my friends,” Oscar says, quietly.

You slip your hand off the couch and press it to his shoulder blade, hidden from Carlos’ view behind blankets and cushions. Oscar relaxes slightly, and his eyes flicker to yours. Carlos is just trying to rile him up, probably. There might be a hint of truth to it- trying to test Oscar’s loyalty, which is stupid.

You turn to Carlos and blink. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Like your own apartment?”

Oscar laughs and tries to disguise it as a cough, muffling it into his elbow. Carlos grins, gaze flickering between you and Oscar, mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, Bunny has claws,” he teases.

By Sunday, everyone is panicked about the impending snow. The stores sell out of all the essentials before you can even bother to plan the week’s family dinner. You and Max will have to make do with what’s left on the bare shelves of the grocery store. The aisles are packed with people. You’ve lost Logan in the fray.

“He’ll be fine,” Max says, trying to maneuver the cart around a small child. He makes a funny face at her, and she laughs. “He will find us, and if he doesn’t…”

“Oh my god, please sound more concerned,” you say.

He shrugs and reaches for a box of Kraft Mac and cheese.

“You have to be kidding,” you say with a glare.

He nods, looking at the grocery list again. “I am. We are buying more TimTams?”

Your face grows hot against your will. You snatch the list from his hand as he eyes you, brows raised. At that exact moment, Logan, your lifesaver, appears from the crowd.

“I got so lost,” he says, eyes wide. “This place is a madhouse.”

Max nods, and he looks around, set determination on his face. “Alright. Let’s get what we need and get out. Logan, hold onto the cart.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “I’m not a child,” he says, but he grabs the cart anyways.

By the time the three of you get in the car, the first few snowflakes are falling. Max sits stiffly in the passenger seat the whole drive, like he’s worried a little snow will send you into a violent crash. You make it home safely, of course, and unload the groceries together. Charles is sitting on the couch in front of the living room window, staring at the snow, a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

“It’s already pretty,” he says, softly.

You ruffle his hair. “Is there more hot chocolate?”

He nods. “Oscar’s making it.”

You head for the kitchen, bags in hand, and find Oscar and Alex huddled around the counter. You give them a smile as you unpack the groceries, and Max and Logan do the same. Oscar looks up at you, eyes bright.

“What do you want in yours?” He asks.

You stand with your hands on your hips, thinking hard. He’s got plenty of supplies- mini marshmallows and sprinkles and caramel drizzle and whipped cream. You shrug.

“Keep it simple,” you say. “A couple marshmallows and some whipped cream.”

He nods eagerly and gets to work. By the time your bags are empty, it’s ready. He hands it off to you with a happy smile- the whipped cream sits in a perfect spiral atop the mug. He looks so proud, and it’s such a sweet gesture, you almost lean over and kiss him right on the forehead. Almost, before you remember half his teammates are here, and Max is watching, and everyone is apparently suspicious. And that it would probably be a strange thing for you to do. You just smile and thank him quietly instead.

You head back into the living room with the mug, trying to shake his soft, proud grin from your brain. Charles is there, in the loveseat next to the window, and he pats the cushion, beckoning you to join him. You sink down, turning so you can look out the window, too. He tosses a blanket over your lap.

“He gave you more whipped cream than me,” he says, pouting.

You shrug. “Maybe he likes me better.”

Charles narrows his eyes at you. “Do you remember, a few months ago, when you thought he hated you?”

You nod. “Funny how things change, huh?”

Oscar walks in then, a mug in his hands. His gaze slips to the window, brows raising on his forehead, and he smiles happily. You smile, too and turn back towards the window as he walks over.

“Pretty,” he says, softly. “Wow, it’s really starting to come down, huh?”

You sigh. “God, I hope they cancel classes tomorrow.”

Charles sighs and sits up. “That reminds me. I have an assignment due at midnight.”

He stands up and stalks off, taking his hot chocolate with him. Oscar makes a sympathetic noise, but he doesn’t hesitate to steal Charles’ spot on the couch. You smile at him when he sits down. Both of you put your legs up on the cushions so you can stare out the window. You rest your head against the back of the couch and let your knee rest against his. Outside, Logan pulls up with a full car, having offered to pick up a few of the team members who didn’t want to walk in the snow. Carlos climbs out of the front seat and leans over, already trying to scrape together a snowball. Oscar sighs. You turn to look at him, and he’s got a look of apprehension on his face. You nudge your knee against his.

“What’s up?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Maybe they’ll cancel the games next weekend, too.”

He doesn’t want to play against his old team. From what he’s told you, you can’t really blame him. He’d hinted at a toxic environment when he first told you, but the longer the two of you have been friends, the more information you’ve pulled out of him. He’d mentioned something about a scar on his upper lip, how his old team captain had left it there when he pushed him onto the ice. Your heart breaks for him.

Under the blanket, you reach out and rest your hand on his knee, lightly. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

He grins widely at that, and then hides it behind his mug of hot chocolate. You smile right back. Outside, Carlos hits Logan directly in the stomach with a snowball. The others are making their way towards the house. You brace yourself for the impending chaos.

Charles and Max cook dinner, and there are enough people in the house that you end up eating in the living room on one of the couches. Lando sits next to you, while Oscar sits on the floor in front of you, his back against the couch. The news is playing on the TV, and you all steal glances at the bottom of the display, where the area snow closures are being announced.

Max pokes his head into the living room from the dining room. “Snow’s getting bad. Anyone who doesn’t live here should probably go now, yeah?”

People begin to stand up. You almost follow suit, figuring it’s about time you headed back to your apartment, and not really wanting to walk in the snow. Lando grabs your wrist and tugs, though, and Oscar’s head whips around to look at the two of you.

“Maybe you should just stay,” Lando suggests, a small smile on his face. “It’s a storm warning, you know.”

You blink softly at him, though you sit back down. “Lan, I don’t have any of my stuff. I don’t have clothes to sleep in. I have an 8am class, and I don’t want to sleep on the couch and have a sore neck-“

“Oh come on, you know they’re going to cancel classes,” Oscar says, nudging your knee lightly.

“And if they don’t, I’ll go get your stuff,” Lando suggests. He pouts. “And you don’t have to sleep on the couch, I’ll get the air mattress out. C’mon. What if your power goes out?”

“When my power goes out, yours also goes out,” you remind him.

“But we can all be powerless together,” Charles chimes in from the other end of the couch.

You groan. “You guys. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself in a little bit of snow.”

You hear Logan’s car start up outside. You try to get up again, but Lando wraps his arms around your arm, and Oscar reaches for your ankles. You let out a squeaky laugh and try to break free just as Max walks back into the living room, brows furrowed.

“Max! Tell Bunny she should stay here,” Lando calls out.

Max blinks, eyes darting over the entire situation before he turns to look at you. “There’s a winter storm. You live alone. You are not going anywhere.”

You grumble, but you go limp anyways. Lando lets go of you and high fives Max as he walks past. Oscar holds onto your legs for slightly longer, and he squeezes your calf softly before he pulls away. You try to act normal about it, though from the side eyed look Lando gives you, you’re not sure you were successful.

Eventually, you head to the kitchen to help Max clean up from dinner. Lily, Alex, George, and Oscar sit at the dining room table, playing cards, while you and Max do dishes and Lando and Charles clean counters. When your eyes stay on the Oscar for too long, watching him laugh happily, the sink nearly overflows. Max nudges your shoulder.

“You can go hangout, if you want. I can do the dishes,” he suggests.

You shake your head. “M’fine. Just spaced out a bit.”

Max nods, though you can feel him watching you every so often. Lando and Charles start slapping each other with rolled up wet washcloths, and that distracts Max enough, at least for a few minutes. There’s music playing, and you hum along as the soapy water warms your fingers. When the dishes are done, Max ushers you to the dining room, and you take a seat in the chair on next to Oscar. Lando and Charles join, too, and you smile around at everyone. Snow is falling in the backyard, and the world feels quiet. Oscar’s fingers brush against yours when you both reach for a card, and you can’t help but smile. You’re exactly where you want to be.

At 9:30pm, just when you’re starting to yawn, and Lando is talking about going and setting up the air mattress, everyone’s phones go off. Little dings and chirps and vibration sounds echo through the dining room. Alex is the first one to open the email.

“Classes are canceled!” He calls out. “Snow day!”

The room erupts into chaos. Lando and Max hug each other, George stands up and cheers, while Charles collapses forward onto the table in relief. You turn to Oscar as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and shakes you gently. Alex leans over and kisses Lily on the cheek as she cheers. The joy in the room is infectious. Snow days have the ability to turn you all into children again, apparently.

Oscar leaves his arm around the back of your chair for the rest of the game. You try desperately to act like it’s not there, like you can’t feel the warmth of him on the back of your neck or the way his fingers brush against your shoulder. It’s consuming your thoughts, though, making it insanely difficult to focus on the card game at hand.

He’s one of the first to go to bed, and you miss the feeling as soon as he’s gone. You head up to bed eventually, and you pass Charles in the hallway on the way to brush your teeth. He gives you a sleepy half hug and stumbles into his room. You find yourself looking at Oscar’s door and wondering if he’s still awake, but you’re not sure what you’d even do if he was.

You wake up the next morning to Lando still out cold, snoring loudly into his pillow, and the early sun inching its way through the blinds. The air mattress is partially deflated, and you slide off of it and onto the floor with a soft thud. There’s a hoodie laying on the floor that seems relatively clean, and you pull it on. You know immediately it’s not Lando’s- it smells like a different laundry detergent and cologne, but it feels familiar and warm, so you leave it on. Then you wrap a blanket around your shoulders before you head downstairs.

Oscar’s sitting on the loveseat, still rubbing sleep from his eyes when you find him. He turns and blinks up at you, eyelids heavy. You blink back, long and slow, the way you’d been told to do with pet cats. It seems to work on him- he smiles. Without a word, you head for the kitchen.

You return with two mugs of tea, and he smiles up at you. He makes room for you to sit, and you do so happily, curling your legs under you and fully facing the window. It’s a winter wonderland outside. You can’t even see where the front yard ends and the street begins. Snow is still falling, though at a slower rate.

“It’s so… quiet,” Oscar whispers.

He stretches one leg out behind you on the couch, and bends his other knee up next to you. When you lean against him lightly, he doesn’t protest or move away. He just smiles.

You nod in agreement. “Pretty. I love snow.”

You blink a couple times and take a sip of your tea. Oscar’s leg is warm against your side. He reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. You sigh and let your eyelids flutter shut.

“Still sleepy?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah, but the air mattress is deflating, and Lando’s snoring, so…”

“Here,” he says, and you blink at him in confusion.

Oscar’s hand brushes against yours where you’re holding the mug. Your grip falters, and he slips it from your hand and sets it down on the nearby table. Before you can blink again, he leans forward and wraps an arm around your middle. Then he uses it to haul you towards him, your back against his chest, side by side on the little sofa. You’re nestled between him and the back of the couch, surrounded in warmth, your skin burning up. You can feel the soft rise and fall of his chest behind you.

“Okay?” He asks.

You nod, too sleepy to form the words, too sleepy to worry about what this means or if it’s weird or if someone else will see the two of you and have questions. He lets out a little laugh, his hand slipping into the pocket of the hoodie you’re wearing.

“Is this my hoodie?” He asks. You shrug. “Think it is, there's a hole in this pocket.”

“It was on Lando’s floor,” you mumble, burrowing deeper next to him. “So it’s fair game.”

He laughs, but he lets it go. You rest your cheek against his other arm and bask in the softness of it all, blinking at the falling snow and the soft morning light. Sleep scratches at the back of your brain, and as much as you want to fight it, as much as you want to stay present, it melts over you. The last thing you feel before you fall back asleep is the press of his cheek against the top of your head.

When you wake up, he’s in the kitchen, talking lowly with Alex. There’s a pillow wedged behind you to keep you from falling over and off the couch, and the blanket is pulled up around your chin. You don’t blame him for getting up, and you’re a bit relieved that he seems to have done it before the rest of his roommates are up, because you might have never heard the end of it. Though, when Lando rolls out of bed and joins you on the couch, with Max not far behind, and the three of you squeeze onto the little sofa together, you wonder if they’d have even questioned it. Maybe they’d have seen it the same as this- friends curled up on a slow morning, sharing space and warmth. Maybe that’s all it was for Oscar, too. You’re probably the only one who felt butterflies over it.

Oscar pouts when he walks in and sees his spot taken, though. Behind him in the doorway, Alex meets your gaze with a smirk, eyebrows raised, and you start to wonder again. Eventually, the rest of the people in the house join you downstairs, and you all start to make snow day plans. You close your eyes and listen to them talk. Whatever they come up with, you’ll enjoy, you know it already.

…..

Unfortunately for Oscar, the snow clears, and the first game against the Bears goes forward as planned that week. It’s a mess. The Timberwolves are up by two by the time they’re halfway into the second period, but the Bears are playing like, well, bears. Not a lot of penalties, but cheap shots and bad moves and what looks to be exhausting hockey. They’re frustrated by their own inability to score by the third period, and that’s when the claws really come out. The refs send a Bears player to the box for slashing. He gets back on the ice, and then another one gets called for tripping. There’s a few minutes left, they’re down a player, and they’re desperate.

When Oscar gets locked into a battle for the puck with his old team captain, you hold your breath. He manages to bat it away and send it skidding towards Max, but his helmet and face mask get shoved askew in the process. Somehow, you just know. Everyone in the arena follows the puck, but you watch as the captain on the other team rips his gloves off. You grab onto Lily’s arm and watch his fist connect with Oscar’s jaw. The Timberwolves bench erupts into chaos. The fight is over before it even starts, because Oscar just pushes the guy away and doesn’t swing back. The team captain gets sent to the penalty box. Oscar gets his helmet back on and gets back in the game.

An hour and a half later, you sit at the kitchen counter in their house, a mug in front of you. The house is quiet. You’re not sure why you’re still here- Lando went to bed a while ago, and Max had retreated to his room even before that. You’d made the excuse of staying to clean up the dishes, but now you’re just… here, still. Waiting. You should really go home. It’s bordering on midnight. If you walk home much later than this and any of the guys find out, they’ll be pissed.

The front door creaks open. Soft footsteps echo down the hallway, and you look up from your mug of tea. Oscar doesn’t seem surprised when he walks into the kitchen and finds you sitting there. He stops in the doorway, shoulders dropping. There’s a bruise shadowing his jaw. You wince.

“It looks worse than it feels,” he mumbles.

You stand up from the stool and head for the fridge. You can hear him walking closer as you rummage around in the freezer, finally finding one of the ice packs they keep in there. On a whim, you also reach into a cleverly disguised bag of frozen peas, and come out with two chocolate dipped ice cream bars. When you turn back to Oscar, items in hand, he looks perplexed.

“We have ice cream?” He asks, quietly.

You smirk. “Max hides them. But he can’t keep secrets from me. He won’t mind.”

He takes a seat on the stool, and you flip the switch for the overhead lights. He grimaces.

“I already had it looked at,” he says, brows furrowed. “Trainer said it’s fine.”

You hum as you step closer, pretending your heart doesn’t thud in your chest when you come into close range. “I know,” you say, reaching up and placing the ice pack against his face gently. He hisses. “This is actually an interrogation.”

His hand comes up to hold the pack, fingers brushing against yours. He laughs, then winces. “Yeah? What about?”

You drop your hand to your side. “Why didn’t you fight back?”

He sighs heavily, looking anywhere other than your face. You roll your eyes and open one of the ice cream bars and hand it to him. Then you sit down on another stool, facing him, before you open your own ice cream, too.

“I don’t wanna get suspended,” he shrugs. “And I don’t really fight.”

You decide not to bring up the guy at the party last semester and the way Oscar had been ready to punch him. “Even if they hit you first?”

He nods and makes a little noise. You wonder if he ever fought back when they were on the same team, or if he just accepted it. Your heart aches for him. He shrugs again, eyes flickering up to yours. He looks so sweet, despite the harsh kitchen light, despite the purple tinge on his skin, even more with a bit of chocolate in the corner of his lips. You take a bite of your own ice cream in the hopes that it’ll cool you down.

“Just never felt worth it,” he admits. “I don’t know. Some people are in it for that, for the hits and the fights and the… aggression. I just like hockey. Besides, the guy got a penalty. So now he’s out for a game. That’s better than getting a hit on him.”

The tone he says the guy in is interesting- like he’s distancing himself, like it’s easier if he pretends it was just some guy and not the captain of his old team. You overheard some of Lando and Max’s hushed whispers. You know the guy said some shitty things about Oscar on the ice. And tomorrow, he has to play the rest of the team all over again. Oscar takes another bite of his ice cream and purses his lips.

“I’m okay,” he promises. “And if the guys think I'm going easy on them because I have some weird sense of loyalty, I’m really not.”

“Oh, Osc,” you say quietly, shaking your head. You reach across the gap and press your hand to his wrist, the one holding the ice pack. “Nobody thinks that.”

He shrugs. “Carlos was-“

“Carlos was being a dumbass, but he doesn’t really believe it,” you promise. “After the game, all they were worried about was you. That’s it.”

He lets out a huff and takes another bite of his ice cream, cracking through the chocolate shell. “I don’t wanna be worried about.”

You almost pull your hand from his wrist, but as soon as he says it, he winces, closing his eyes. You wait, rubbing your thumb against his skin. He takes a deep breath. You press your finger to his pulse point, and his breath hitches. You watch his shoulders move.

“I don’t mean that. It’s nice. Just. Had a bad day,” he says. “And we have to do it again tomorrow.”

You nod and squeeze his wrist. “That’s the shitty thing about the way college hockey works, huh.”

He nods. The ice pack bumps against his face, and he hisses. You muffle a laugh and reach to put your hand over his to steady it, keeping your grip gentle. He inhales through pursed lips and closes his eyes. He slips his hand off the ice pack and lets you hold it, and blood roars in your ears. It feels so trusting. Strangely intimate. His hand falls to your knee, and you try to breathe normally. You’re probably failing miserably. You swallow all the feelings down and try to come up with something to say.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” you remind him. “We can wake up and pretend today never happened. A new game, a new start.”

He sighs and closes his eyes. “I can try.”

“That’s all anyone could ask for,” you tell him. “That’s all you can ask yourself for.”

A wavering smile crosses his lips. You take a bite of your ice cream to stop yourself from leaning in to brush your own lips against his cheek. The two of you eat the rest of your ice cream bars in the peace and quiet, under the fluorescent kitchen lights. His hand stays on your knee, barely there, just resting. Your fingers go numb holding the ice pack, but you don’t complain. You can hold this for him, for a little bit. He’s holding onto enough.

…..

You wake up on the couch the next morning with an ache in your neck, because by the time you finished the ice cream Oscar insisted it was too late for you to walk home, and you hadn’t wanted to wake Lando by sneaking into his room. Upstairs, you can hear the guys starting to wake up. Soon they’ll be donning their suits and heading to the rink to get ready. You push yourself to sit up and run a hand through your hair. Then you head for the front door.

Once you’re home, you call Lily. “I have an idea,” you say, ”and I need your help.”

Lily, to her credit, doesn’t ask a lot of questions. You’re sure she sort of understands what’s going on without having to ask, but you’re grateful either way. The two of you shuffle into seats in the arena, eager to watch. You’re wearing your jersey today, hoping it brings good luck, and you’ve both gone full out with lines of blue face paint under your eyes.

When they come out onto the ice, Lando’s the first one to spot you. He does a double take, nudging at Max’s shoulder. They both stare, heads tilted. You can’t blame them. Instead of your normal seats, the two of you are in the front row, right down by the boards.

You’d sit here every game if you could, but the tickets are outrageously expensive on a college student budget, especially when you can sit in the student section for free. Today, though, you’d splurged. There’s a poster board sitting at your feet that you’ve worked painstakingly on all morning. It needs to be seen, and for that, you need to be up close.

Lily lets out a squeak when Alex skates over. “Oh! Hi!”

You roll your eyes affectionately at your friend as she makes hand gestures at her boyfriend through the plexiglass. It’s too loud for them to hear each other, especially through the glass, but Alex’s big smile says more than words ever could. For what’s definitely not the first time, you find yourself wishing you could have what they have. You want someone to smile like that when they see you. You want to feel that giddy feeling.

Lando skates over, tapping his glove against the glass. You just shrug and laugh. He points at the poster board. You shake your head, and he rolls his eyes. It’s not for him. He’s not the one who needs it. Out on the ice, Oscar’s next to Charles, heads bent together as they stretch. Max skates over and points at you, and from this close, you can see Charles' affectionate eye roll, and the way Oscar smiles. He goes from apprehension to adoration quite quickly. Something turns in your chest. Lando, who’s still standing nearby, quirks a brow, and you wonder how plainly it’s written across your face.

While they’re all looking, you take a deep breath, pick up the sign, and raise it above your head. Alex bursts into giddy laughter, Lando’s shoulders drop, and Oscar’s face lights up like the sun.

Kick Some PiASStri, it says. The letters were cut out of magazines and glued down this morning, and you’re still a bit worried it’s not dry enough, but it seems to hold for now. Max and Charles bump their heads against each other as they laugh. Oscar shakes his head, absolutely beaming. It’s a new game, a new start, another day, another chance. And maybe, what he needs is a little bit of encouragement. A reminder that there are people rooting for him.

He skates over, playfully shoulder checking Lando, who’s talking to Alex, now. Oscar takes his stick and scoops up a loose puck off the ice. He flips it over the barriers to you, and you catch it, shrieking at the temperature when it lands in your hand. It’s nearly as cold as the icepack you held to his face the night before.The bruise on his jaw is visible as he looks at you through the glass, but he’s smiling so wide all the same.

He yells something. You can barely hear, but between that and the lip reading you’ve learned to do after years of watching hockey, you think he says something about his “number one fan.”

You just smile and laugh and hold the puck up in the air, hoping the giddy feeling in your chest isn’t painfully obvious. He puts a glove against the plexiglass, and you place your hand there, too, and you know you can’t but you swear you feel the warmth of him. It’s probably just your brain playing tricks on you. He shakes his head, then pats his hand against the clear surface, and then he takes off across the ice.

When you turn to Lily, she’s smiling knowingly. “That was…”

“Shut up,” you grumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t wanna hear it. He just needed some encouragement.”

It seems to work. He’s on fire that night, skating across the ice like it’s exactly where he belongs. You’re proud to be there, proud to hold the poster up when he scores, proud to call yourself his friend.

After the game, you find yourself in the back hallway of the arena, waiting. You can hear the music in the locker room from here, can hear the intermittent shouting and cheering from the guys. The other team is long gone. Lily’s back at the house already, getting things ready for the inevitable big party they’ll be having after a win like this. The poster you’d made leans against the wall.

Oscar’s the one to find you. His smile seems permanently set on his face tonight. His hair’s a mess, towel dried and sticking in every direction. “You kicked ass,” you call out.

He doesn’t stop at the socially acceptable distance apart. He walks close, so close you have to lean your head back just slightly to look him in the eye, so close that you can smell his shampoo and see the freckles on his cheeks. His hands are in his pockets, and your heart is in your throat. There’s something wild in his eyes. The bruise on his jaw is dark, almost blue now, and you reach up to brush a finger against the outline of it. He blinks and pulls his hands from his pockets.

“It was nice to see you in the front row,” he says.

Your pulse is pounding. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Those tickets are expensive. Just needed to make sure you could see the sign.”

He juts his chin out. “Yeah?”

You swallow, then nod. “Yeah. Did it work?”

He doesn’t answer. He just reaches out, and his hand lands on your hip. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye, and you hold your breath. His eyes search your face, darting between your eyes and cheeks and lips. You lean closer, closer. His cheeks are rosy and blotchy, from the game and the post game shower and- and maybe, from this, too. Is he feeling it, too? Is his heart racing, is he holding his breath, are there butterflies swirling around in his stomach?

Just when you think you can’t hold your breath any longer, he closes the gap, pressing his lips against your cheek. You wonder if he can feel how warm your face is beneath his lips, if he can hear the way your heartbeat picks up. It’s just a kiss on the cheek, but you let your eyes fall shut anyways, let the warmth wash over you, down your spine and all the way to your fingertips and toes. This is better than a thank you, better than anything, really.

There’s a loud bang of a door being flung open, and both of you break apart in a rush. You wobble, and he does his best to keep you steady. By the time you stand up straight, the two of you are standing a respectable distance apart, and the door to the hallway swings open. It’s Carlos, first, followed by the rest of the team. You try to compose yourself. Oscar’s face is bright red.

“Bunny!” Charles calls out, eager and bright eyed. “We won!”

Oscar backs away when Charles rushes up to hug you. Nobody comments on his red cheeks, or the poster sitting at your feet. You’re sure they’d teased him about it, but they won the game, so anything that got them there is seen as a good thing. Max is the next one to wrap you up in a hug, and soon you’re being pulled along in the stream of hockey players, out towards where the rest of their friends and families wait, out towards the walk back to the house where the party will already be in motion.

“Your face paint is smudged,” Lando says, pointing at your cheek.

You laugh and brush Lando’s hand away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Oscar wipe his thumb on his pants, as discreetly as possible, and your heart flutters in your chest. There’s a blue streak of paint left behind on the fabric. It’s some sort of evidence that it really happened. It’s enough, for now.

Later that night, when you’re falling asleep in Lando’s room after a long night of celebrating, you think of deep blue bruises and bright blue face paint, and how much you wish you’d gotten the chance to mix them both together. It would look nice, you think, as you drift off. Paint smudged on his rosy, freckled cheeks. It would’ve been nice.

You dream of Oscar. You’re definitely not complaining.

a/n: happy oscar’s birthday to all who celebrate! 🥳

Series Taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav

578 notes · View notes

stqrgirlie0 · 1 month

Text

⋆✮theodore nott✮⋆

part 2 / part 3 / part 4

theo’s had a hard childhood, his mother sadly died and all he has left his father. his fucked up father. there’s no wonder as to why theo took up smoking, but this doesn’t change the fact that he’s completely addicted. every inhale and exhale takes him further away from the walls of the castle, just what he wants. just what he needs. despite his mother leaving him from a young age, theo continues his and his mother’s shared passion for learning, doesn’t necessarily mean he’s at the top of his classes but he’s doing pretty good if he says so himself. theo was also taught how to play the piano but avoids doing so because he thinks it reminds him of his mother too much. but if you wake up in the middle of the night, you might faintly hear a sweet sweet melody being played from the common room.. all the neglect from his father’s end corrupted his innocence growing up, and as a child Theo often spent his time in solitude. however he didn’t let this affect his relationships in his teenhood, and still chose to foster relationships- but only as far as friendships. Theo has never been in a relationship and the ‘sleeping around’ thing his friends so often did, didn’t seem so appealing to him. that is, until he saw you. he was sure you were new but when you first talked and told him you’ve been here since first year, let’s just say it wasn’t one of his proudest moments. from that moment he knew exactly what he was going to do. it took a while, his grovelling weirded you out at first- did he like you? was he trying to do this as a joke? eventually you’d realised it was in fact not a joke, and theodre nott actually did like you, yes. however did you know what to do in response? absolutely not, so of course you turn to everyone’s go-to flirting method: feigned dislike. it worked wonders while also creating a tense but playful rivalry between you and theo. did this confuse theo at first? slightly, yes. but was he also turned on by it? absofuckinglutely. in case it isn’t obvious, things did eventually get heated… everything about you had him going crazy- your smile, your eyes, your laugh, your comebacks, your scent, your hands, YOUR HANDS. gosh he goes absolutely feral over your hands (mainly because he imagines he’ll be putting a ring on it one day, but asides from that..) the way that they fit so perfectly into his alters his brain chemistry or something because trust me this man will be holding onto it and fidgeting around with it EVERY. SECOND. OF. THE. DAY. while everyone thinks he’s a complicated character, he’s actually not. there’s a limited amount of ways to get to his heart- food, hugs and hickeys. food: you know it, every theo enthusiast has heard this about a million times, all the more reason to believe it to be true!! he will literally eat his whole weight and won’t think anything of it, and will STILL be skinny af. hugs: this man needs his hugs just to relax and have a lil breather. a back hug, a side hug, a bear hug, straddle hug, you name it he will hold onto you like a koala! hickeys: alright, enough of our soft teddy, Mr Nott knows his way around your neck, shoulders, chest, EVERYWHWRE. there’s nothing sweet about this, he wants everyone to know who makes you a hot moaning mess every night.

#hmm should I do a part two??🤔🤔#y’all know I’ll do anything for my theo bby

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theo nott imagine #theo nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #lorenzo zurzolo

660 notes · View notes

chaoticace2005 · 3 months

Text

Top Hazbin Hotel Songs so far: (order not super relevant because I jump a lot between my favorites so it’s hard to have a definitive ranking.)

(Note: ALL the songs were bops. There wasn’t a single one I disliked. I’m just going off which ones hit me the hardest and are now living in my head.)

1. Stayed Gone- this song is just so fucking catchy. The quick talking of Vox at the beginning is great- displaying confidence while also clearly overcompensating. The music is pretty repetitive at first but in a comforting way, being simple in terms of number of instruments. And then Al comes in and changes it up. I love the way these two argue- Al just roasting the hell out of Vox was great. The rivalry between these two is great and so entertaining to watch.

2. Loser Baby- so cute. Keith David’s voice was amazing. Loved Angel and Husk’s chemistry. Angel’s shock/annoyance at Husk at first is hilarious. Also songs like that and Crooked (from Helluva Boss) really are saying something’s we really don’t hear often enough: that things are a mess sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. Both songs acknowledge the messy parts of the characters and both say “I see that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.” Plus it being in the same episode as Poison? Their messages complimented each other well and kind of closed the story for it.

3. Poison- Blake Roman is just- wow. No words. When this song came out a couple weeks ago I had it on repeat obsessively. We get to see Angel’s internal thoughts- his self-blaming for all the shit that’s happening, and how hopeless he feels. The emotion poured into this is astounding. It was amazing as a stand-alone song, and then the way the show integrated it in episode 4 made it hit even harder. It’s definitely A LOT- but sometimes that’s what makes such hard hitting songs, being so personal.

4. Hell is Forever- Alex Brightman killed it as always. I listened to this one on repeat dozens of times. It’s so insanely catchy. The rock(?) music that comes in to cut Charlie off? Also this song nails in the fact even more than Adam SUCKS. And while this is happening we are delivered the logic behind the angel’s choices- explicitly saying “yeah we don’t care. Murder is fun :)” AND are given the information about major conflict of season- that the extermination day for moved up.

5. Respectless- got brain worms from this. The way Velvette dropped in and changed the whole genre of the song was A W E S O M E. Her and Carmilla both SLAPPED. Also the line “I’m the backbone of the Vees” was just- I just loved the energy of the song. Major Six vibes. I’d love Lilli Cooper to sing more in the show!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin #hazbin vox #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #AV hatemance #AV rivalry #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #adam hazbin hotel #velvette hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #Andrew underberg #sam haft

588 notes · View notes

demonvibez · 10 months

Note

Ghost!!! Ive had a brainstorm!!!

The obey me characters with an MC that has a huge collection of plushies and stuffies :,,(((

Lucifer who preens each fluffy toy like a bird, Mammon who fights, slaps and kicks each plushie out of jealousy when you're not there to mediate him.

Levi who's planning intricate playdates with his stuffies and MC's stuffies. (He replays the memory in his head a lot when he's alone.) Satan who's using MC's plushies to prop up his books, he laughs when the book falls ontop of the poor stuffed animal.

Asmodeus who dotes and teases his favourite of the pile, sitting the soft toy in his lap so it can watch Asmo do a full skincare routine with him! Beel who scoops as many fluffy friends as he can into his arms to squeeze and cuddle!

Belphegor who lazily sinks into the softness of stuffed animals and takes leisure naps snuggled into the warmth.

Gjgjgkkhkggkfknfgggg I cant get it out of my head :,,|||||

Some of them turn the stuffies the other way when nightly cuddles turns into something more passionate and some of them are a bit meaner (COUGHCOUGHCOUGH LUCIFER ND HIS CORRUPTION KINK COUGHCOUGIGOVCIHCOS)

Okay, this is such a cute little imagine I just :') haha took it and ran a bit...or a lot! hope you enjoy - small suggestive/smutty part at the end, minors do not interact!

word count: 1400+ genre: mostly fluff / some smut (MDNI) tags: fluff, sibling rivalry, gender neutral reader, implied poly mc, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex on camera rating: mature

It all started when Lucifer had noticed your favorite plushies that you had brought from home on your bed while you were out grocery shopping with Mammon and Asmodeus. He had the bright idea to get a plushie for you himself, and give it to you as a gift. Once his other brothers found out what he had done, of course it launched into a competition, with the other Six giving you plushies as well.

Lucifer is quite serious about the plushie he has given to you - he makes sure it is kept in pristine condition every time he swings by your room. Adorned with many accessories (each imbued with protection spells, unbeknownst to you), the plushie definitely reminds you of him in appearance - of course he would get you a plushie to literally represent him. He even enchanted the plushie to carry his scent, so that when you cuddle with it at night, you can't help but to think of him. He would never admit it, but he put a lot of thought and care into his plushie for you. If he sees any of his brothers even so much as breathe on it incorrectly, he'll make a mental note to add a little extra spice the next time he wants to punish them.

Mammon is naturally the most competitive about the whole thing. Every time one of his brothers gifts you a new plushie friend, he goes right out and buys two more - bigger, better, shinier! NO ONE can outdo The Great Mammon when it comes to giving his human some plushies! He's given you so many that you could make a giant crow's nest out of them that would cover most of your bed. Whenever he comes over, he pushes all of the plushies from his brothers under your bed, arguing that "ya got all these plushies here from yer first man, why the heck would ya need anythin' else?!" and you can't help but to pull him into a tight hug and indulge him once again as you begin your movie night.

You and Leviathan actually exchange stuffies with each other, after it takes you 4 days, 67 texts and three phone calls to get Levi to leave his room after hearing about the small collection you already have from his brothers. Envy floods his brain, convincing him "you would never exchange something like that with him," but you manage to finally make him believe you! And ever since, the lil group of you have a plethora of adventures together. Now when the two of you make cosplays together, you make an additional little mini set for your plushies to wear for your next TSL night! And when he is bored, sometimes Levi can't help but to look back at the photo album of your cosplays together on his DDD fondly.

Satan definitely hates the Lucifer plushie. Like, with every fiber of his infernal being. He would love to set the damn thing on fire - and often has dreams in which he does exactly that - but he loves you more and wouldn't want to hurt you like that, so he gets his own to give you instead. You guys love to have murder mystery parties with the plushies, but had to ban the eldest's plushie from the party when you started to notice it was somehow always the victim. Aside from that, the two of you also enjoy just cuddling up together with his plushie and reading by the fire. You both have tea and cookies while sharing poetry with one another, under the embrace of your favorite fluffy blanket, the plushie snug between the two of you.

Asmodeus makes an entire day of going out shopping for plushies and outfits with you. Little did you know, he had called in a few favors with one of his fashion designer friends to have both the plushies and their outfits custom made to his design. When the two of you get back to his room, you sit down in front of his vanity with your new plushies and start making each other over, in preparation for the fashion show you’re about to have. After getting hair and makeup ready, you slip on your outfits, making sure everything looks just right, both with yourselves and your new stuffed friends. Asmo uses one of the extra plushies from his bed to prop up his DDD to record the fashion show - which still remains at the top of his Devilgram highlight reel.

Beelzebub was probably the only one of his brothers that was unfazed by the whole competitive aspect of this. He was walking back home from fangol practice one afternoon, arms full of bags of food for the two of you from Hell's Kitchen. As he's walking, he notices an adorable plushie in a shop window that reminds him of you. Of course he goes in to buy it, and soon enough he is making a beeline straight home and directly to your room with all of the goodies. He honestly has no idea which he loves more - the look on your face as you eat your favorite Devildom food, or the smile you flash and the glimmer in your eyes as he gives you the plushie. He can't help but to pull you into one of his famous Beel hugs.

Belphegor was feeling a bit bratty when he heard that his brothers were in this stupid little plushie competition for you. He ended up disappearing for a couple of days, nowhere to be found and completely ignoring all attempts to reach him via DDD. You eventually find him upon looking for him in the attic a second time. Upon entering you see him asleep in bed with a giant plushie, one as long as he is tall. You sit on the edge of his bed and call out to him a few times with no reply. After calling his name the fourth time, you reach out to touch him, only to have his tail wrap around you and pull you down into his cuddle pile. He presses a kiss into the top of your head, mumbling something about how ‘he got you this gift because you are his,’ before drifting back off to sleep. You smile and press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw, cuddling closer before joining him in slumber.

When it comes to moments of intimacy, most of the brothers are rather respectful, and don’t like the feeling of the little plushie eyes on them during your love making. Two of the brothers in particular are a bit more devious than the others, though . . .

It was one of those rare evenings where Lucifer was spending time with you in your room instead of his. One thing led to another, and now here you were; the Avatar of Pride thrusting into you as you grip the sheets and moan out his name. Right as you both are about to hit your climax together, Lucifer breaks eye contact with you as he releases, his eyes locking with the Satan plushie right as he fills you with his seed. As he is coming down from his high, a sadistic idea plants himself into the back of his mind. He had been looking for a new way to punish his brothers, and the audience of plushies watching the two of you had proven useful in giving him this devious idea. The next time his brothers did something especially egregious that warranted punishment, he will simply string them up from the ceiling and make them watch as he takes you - even just the idea of it fills him with enormous pride.

One night, after your little fashion show date, things were getting hot and heavy in your room. Asmodeus was making out with you in a rather passionate fashion as your hands found the way to the hem of his shirt, tugging it off. As you begin to pull on his belt, he grabs your hands, a devious smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes. “Wait…I have an idea…” He pushes himself off of your bed, pulling one of Mammon’s plushies along with him. He props the plushie up on the dresser across from your bed before pulling out his DDD, making sure the plushie is holding it and the front facing camera is on. He looks back to you as you nod your consent, and he makes his way back to your bed, peeling off your pants and pushing your underwear to the side, leaning down to taste you as you let out the first of many moans. He would never dream of posting the video anywhere - but he definitely does text you little clips from it to tease you when he is craving more of you.

2K notes · View notes

jayjj7 · 4 months

Text

Teamwork

Danielle Marsh x reader

synopsis : working at the vet is never boring as you have patients, well pets, almost constantly. but as you and other coworkers work on a patient, an accident occurs that has your top competition at your side almost daily.

contains : newjeans, swearing, intended lowercase, friendly rivalry, strangers to lovers, EVERYTHING IS FICTION

accounts : master manipulators | happy fam | night shift

chapters:

1. work

2. life

3. prep

4. day one

5. forced communication

6. hectic

7. helping

8. worry

9. sweet

10. betrayal

11. stuffed

12. bonus

13. too much work

14. care

15. reparations

16. panic

17. realization

18. wait

19. pulling through

20. meet n greet

21. reality

22. normal

23. shock

24. anger

25. favoritism

26. stuck

27. confrontations

28. dinner

29. second

30. investigation

31. delete

32. blocked

33. enough

34. cafe

35. attempt

36. clarification

37. restrictions

38. jealousy

39. hater

40. mistake

41. clashing

42. aftermath

43. improving

44. master plan

45. painting

46. accomplished

47. intrusion

48. so back

49. square one

50. end

#danielle x reader #kpop #kpop smau #kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans smau #newjeans hyein #newjeans danielle #newjeans haerin #newjeans minji #newjeans hanni #newjeans

521 notes · View notes

leah-lover · 21 days

Text

Arrogance. Alexia putellas x reader.

Let me know if you want a part 2.

You loved winning more than anything or anyone in the entire world and that was your biggest flaw. Brought up in the US soccer system, you were taught that winning is everything. You had set the precedent of joining the US women's national team as early as 17 years old which had never been done before. You were smart both academically and tactically. You graduated high school early, went to college early and proceeded to win the national championship all 4 years.

Your life always took the back seat to winning. You didn't have many friends. You didn't go out or party. You trained hard, you took care of your body, and followed a strict fitness routine. You were overall the best in your generation.

Being labeled as the best of your generation got into your head early in your life. Your strict regime made it hard for you to make friends and your cockiness and pride didn't help either. You were friendly but nobody ever dared to become your friend.

After college you moved on to the NWSL in which you won MVP , rookie of the year, and the championship in your first and second year. You had also won the world but at the same time. However, winning didn't fill the gap in your life that it once did. You didn't have to prove yourself anymore, you were renowned in the whole world as the best, everybody wanted to be you but no one wanted to be with you not long term at least. You were notorious for hooking up with people but you didn't want them to stay over for breakfast

As the years went on the international competition got harder. You were still the best but an upcoming Spaniard was raining on your parade. You were both head to head in matchies, a few tackles landing you warnings and yellow cards, and in awards. Both having very good stats you are head to head for the ballon d'or which she won that year.

You didn't talk to each other much. You can recall talking one or twice to each other . but you talked about one another a lot. The media seemed to spit you both against one another. You started hating each other in real life.

This summer your contract with Seattle fc came to its end and you chose not to renew. Offers were flying by but the one that caught your attention was Barcelona's offer.

They were willing to spend 1 million dollars on you. It was a precedent. No club had ever paid this much for a transfer. Thrie offer sticked your ego so much you accepted.

You have been playing at Barcelona for almost a season, scoring a hatrick at every game. Your relationship with your teammates didn't change. You were still space out.

The most important relationship was with your captain. Your rivalry with her was the second headline out of the b transfer. But you didn't pay her or the rivalry any attention.

Tonight you have achieved something you wanted to do for a long time. You have won the champion’s league. The locker room was celebrating the win and chanting your name. While everybody was dancing Alexia came to approached you and said “ congrats and thank u american”

“ no need capi.” you responded.

The flight back was fun, people were singing and dancing but the only thing you thought about was alexia. Her smell, her hand on your shoulder, her being thankful for you. You found yourself looking over to her from time to time. You weren't like this, you didn't day dream about people especially not the captain.

The celebration party took place in a bar. You were a few dink in when you looked over to you right yo find Alexia nursing a flute filled with champagne.

“Why aren't you dancing?” She asked.

“ I am not the type plus i am pretty sure y'all hate me.”

“And why is that “

“Don't know just a feeling.”

After that I went outside. I didn't smoke much but the nerves Alexia was giving me deserved some nicotine. As soon as I lit the cigarette I felt her hazel eyes glaring at me.

“ These things are gonna kill you, you know.”

“ I want to die young plus nobody would give a shit.”

“ I would give a shit if the most important person in my club was killing herself because she can't man up enough to talk to people. You hide behind your accomplishments. But you are just a normal girl just like any of us. You need people beside you.”

“ You are wrong about me. I am not scared of talking to people; they just would never understand me. I am a control freak. I don't like to give it up. People tend to hate that about me ” I say as I take the last puff of my cigarette. My eyes don't leave hers and the tension is through the roof.

“ I like to lose control from time to time.”

“ Capitana please don't play with me”

“ Currently I am not playing with you. Let me make you a deal. You go inside, have some fun and I will let you do what you want with the information you just heard.”

“ Why are you doing this?”

“ I don't know, I just care, I guess.

#alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader

308 notes · View notes

little-miss-vader · 1 year

Text

Dueling Fates.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: Anakin really, really wants to win for once.

Warnings: 18+ definitely smut. Minors DNI or I’ll find you and bite you. Hatefucking (?), reader gets dominated, vulnerability, name calling, restraint, hair pulling, neck kisses, biting, honestly the works.

A/N: This is my first smut in years and i got a bit carried away with the lead up cuz im a sl*t for tension and foreplay and i had to cut it short but i’m pretty proud of this for my first time back. I’m sorry if i made any mistakes, i proofread but mistakes happen! Thanks for reading <3 Enjoy filthy Anakin.

Word count: 3.1K (I know it’s long I got excited.)

Anakin wasn’t a sore loser, not by his definition at least. He just knew he could do better. That’s why when he lost against you again in a sparring session something began to boil his blood. He stood up and stared at you for a moment, you knew what that look meant.

“Again.” He spoke sternly, not at all to your surprise. His lightsaber was still ignited and held in front of him with shaking, frustrated hands. His eyes were glazed over as if possessed by the idea of winning. This had been your third session together and prior to you two partnering up you had been training for 4 hours.

“I’ve been at this for hours I would much rather go eat than tend to your bruised ego, Skywalker.” You put your lightsaber in its rightful spot on your hip and looked up at him with your arms crossed.

It was true that Anakin rarely lost but almost every time he did, it was to you. If you had a scoreboard to keep track, it wouldn’t look good for him. You were older by two years and therefore had more experience. Not by much, but enough to make a difference. He was strong, big, and extremely quick with his reflexes but you were small, agile, and had levels of pattern recognition too high for him to catch you off guard. All his best traits came to your advantage and he hated it.

“Cut the bullshit. I know you’ve got one more in you.” He spoke, his eyes looked your tired frame up and down. You didn’t, in fact, have one more in you but you still agreed. Your legs were hurting in places you didn’t think they could and your arms were burning so badly they might as well have been dipped in lava.

“Fine.” You muttered as you neared him, taking your spot across from him at the training ring. You readied your lightsaber and the sound of it igniting filled your ears. His expressions were small, almost unnoticeable, but you could see how riled up he was in the small movements of his lip twitching and his eyes flickering from you to your lightsaber. You knew your mind wasn’t in it, your Master would have sent you to bed at the sight of you and you knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t encourage Anakin in the state he was in, as well.

A hint of something flashed across his face when you agreed and that settled the feeling you had, this would not be an easy one. The rivalry you two had was nothing more than friendly competition in the eyes of most but truth be told you were both too similar and stubborn, and it really did feel like you were truly enemies sometimes.

“Any day now, Y/L/N.” He spoke in that cocky tone that made you want to slash his head clean off his neck. You tightened your grip and swung first, the sound of your lightsabers clashing echoed through the large, now empty room. This was the best way to do it, offensive to start, swinging so he had the confidence that he could block your blows. Then when you began to feel even the slightest bit of exhaustion you’d play the defense, which was your specialty, until he spent himself. The rest? Too easy.

Your legs, while in pain, moved quickly. You dodged and rolled away from him multiple times. You enjoyed the feeling of him having to come to you, in the same way a dog owner experiences contentment when their dog obeys their commands.

You didn’t know what happened. You didn’t even know how it happened in the moment. He swung directly down your middle and you blocked him, pushing him back with a grunt. The noise he made in response was almost animalistic. It shocked you for just a fraction of a second but he swung and your block was delayed. He didn’t expect it and neither did you so when the swing connected to your leg you both froze. His reaction time, bless the Maker for it, was quick enough for him to stop before he melted your leg clean off but not quick enough to prevent it from grazing you.

You staggered back, retracting your lightsaber. Not a word left either of your mouths for a few seconds, though it felt more like a lifetime. The adrenaline was helping you feel less of the pain but it wasn’t fixing much.

“I didn’t think you’d connect.” You said through gritted teeth as your face contorted in pain. You dropped down on your ass to inspect the wound. “I didn’t think you’d fail to block.” He muttered as he rushed over to lean down next to you.

“I’ll get to a medic. Just leave me alone.” You nearly seethed at him. “I knew you weren’t the nicest sparring partner but I didn’t know you played dirty when you’re mad.” You pushed yourself off the ground, your injured leg bent at the knee as you hopped toward the exit of the training room.

Anakin narrowed his eyes as he walked next to you, not bothering to help due to your comment. “I don’t play dirty. Watch that loud mouth. It’ll be the reason you eat through a straw one day.” His hands were folded behind his back as he watched you struggle to get up the steps to get back into the temple.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and held on to the railing for dear life as you hopped up each step. You felt an arm slide across your back and under your armpit.

“I’ll show you dirty if you keep this up.” He muttered, it was barely audible but you heard it and decided the pain in your leg was far more important than his incessant rambling.

“Don’t touch me.” You seethed but you made no attempt to move away from him. He looked down at you and you got the reply of sweet silence. For once, he chose not to respond.

“The medical bay is in the opposite direction-“ You started. “No. It’s just a surface scratch. I can clean it out for you and avoid us both getting in trouble for training after hours when we should have been eating.” He said sternly and a laugh escaped your mouth followed by a short wince.

“You mean avoid yourself getting in trouble. I wouldn’t get in shit over this. You challenged me and hurt me.” You responded. He shook his head and continued walking over to the dormitories. You recognized the hallway he was walking down to be the boys sector. You decided to bite your tongue for the time being. The wound, while not dangerous, was painful and you wanted to save your energy for something more worth while.

He opened the door to his room and placed you down on the small chair by his desk before turning to close the door. He walked away from you to find medical supplies while you inspected the wound and poked the skin around it, wincing in pain.

“Do you enjoy hurting yourself or something?” He muttered as he returned to see you poking away at your sensitive skin. You dropped your hand and looked up at him, your eyes followed him as he kneeled in front of you. You’d rather die than admit it but he did look good on his knees. Again, you stuck with the cold shoulder response, it was easier when you didn’t argue with him. You averted your gaze fairly quickly when he looked up at you for a moment. You didn’t even feel his hands on your hips until he spoke.

“Up.” His hands rested on the waistband of your pants and you cocked an eyebrow. “No funny business.” You muttered as you raised your hips to allow him to get the pants off and have better access to your thigh.

“Only in your dreams.” He spoke with a level of confidence that made you want to scream and rip his hair out of his head, but still, you stayed fairly silent.

He cleaned and dressed your wound, his touch was softer than you’d expected apart from the moments you would flinch and he’d use a bit of strength to hold your leg in place. “You’re gonna need new pants.” He said, his face was close enough to your skin that you felt the air leave his mouth as he spoke and it immediately created goosebumps on your legs. It was clear he noticed it because he did it again. “What? Is it cold in here?” His low voice sent vibrations to your leg and they flared up in little bumps again. His eyes trailed up your leg and the rest of your body until they finally rested on your own eyes. There was a look in his eyes that you had never been able to pin point and he had it often when he’d speak to you.

“Give me my stuff. I think we’re done now.” You said with a look of annoyance blanketing your expression. He followed promptly with a ‘tsk’ and his low voice, almost a growl, spoke again. “I don’t think we are.” His grip on your thigh squeezed gently and you tried snapping your legs shut only to be met by the barrier of his stupid head.

“What’s your deal, Skywalker?” You ask, your eyes boring holes into his own. You never made a single effort to move away, something about him was entrancing. His thumbs traced circles on your inner thigh by your hips and your legs twitched. You could feel your heart in your throat as he stared you down with the same intensity at you. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips when he felt you get nervous.

“What’s yours?” He mused as his hands travelled up to your waist and he pulled you down from the chair to sit on his lap where he was kneeling on the floor. A soft gasp escaped your lips and you felt a hand push on the back of your neck. Your foreheads were touching now and it felt like all the oxygen in the room had some how disappeared. Your hands instinctively rested on his chest as you straddled him.

Your mind was moving too quickly for you to say anything and before you knew it you felt his lips press against yours. His hand moved from its place on your neck to bunch up your hair and he held it in a tight grip causing a gasp to leave your mouth again.

‘I’ll show you dirty.’ His words from earlier rang in your head and you felt yourself shiver. He pulled away from you and laid you down on the cold, hard floor.

“Anakin-“ You started and he climbed over top of you, caging you in with his arms. “Years. I’ve spent years resenting you for the way you make me feel. Years watching you strut about and walk around with the confidence of thinking you’re better than I am. I hate how you speak to me and I hate the way you act.” He spoke, his eyes never left yours and your eyebrows furrowed.

“If you hate me so much why are you on top of me?” You found enough air to finally say something, your words came out shaky and breathless. “There’s one thing I can do to make myself feel better than you.” Anakin’s head dipped toward your neck as he spoke, he licked a stripe up from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear before biting on your earlobe.

Your body quivered again and he smiled against your ear when a yelp left your mouth at the feeling of teeth biting down. “I can make you look pathetic and desperate. Just like you look right now.” He whispered again, your cheeks reddened and a small whimper left your mouth as he bit down on your neck, leaving small kisses between each bite. You couldn’t speak, you could barely breathe but you liked it. Your hands reached around to tangle into his hair and you pulled him up to make eye contact with you before pushing your lips against his in a desperate manner, open mouths collided as his tongue slipped into yours. After all the years spent being at each others throat when this is what you’d always wanted, you didn’t hesitate to push it to where you needed it to go.

Your hands fumbled with his utility belt and he smiled before lifting a single arm from beside your head to undo it in a moments notice. He sat back on his heels and pulled your belt off, your robe and tunic promptly followed. Your bare skin shivered as you laid back on the tile floor in his room and he smiled down at you. “Too pretty for your own good.” He mumbled as he pulled your underwear from your body leaving you completely vulnerable while he was still clothed. Your hands went for his robe and he pinned them down above your head, his hair flopped over his forehead in a way that made him look absolutely delectable.

He shook his head and another ‘tsk’ followed before he ducked down and placed his mouth right on your nipple that had hardened from the cold floor and excitement. A moan escaped your mouth and you bit down on your lip to stifle it. His eyes flickered open and he looked directly into your own, eye contact was definitely something he enjoyed. His free hand grasped at your chin and his thumb pulled your lip from between your teeth. “Try and hide how good you feel again and you’ll regret it.” His voice was stern and it made your head spin. You nodded.

“Use your words.” He said again and your back arched a little as his mouth returned to your nipple. “Y-yes, Anakin.” Your breathless words came out almost unintelligible. “Louder.” He said and grazed his teeth over your hardened bud. “Yes, Anakin.” You said louder as the shock of the feeling engulfed you. He smiled against you and returned to his position of hovering above you.

His hand trailed down your body agonizingly slowly, stopping right where your pussy was. His fingers traced the outside and you squirmed beneath him. “Please..” You whispered and his eyes darted back to yours. “Please what?” He spoke with his fingers still tormenting you, dancing around where you needed them the most. “Please, Anakin.” You whimpered and he smiled. “So fucking pretty when you say my name.” His mused, his voice almost came out as a low hum as his fingers finally slid up and down between your folds, picking up the juices that had collected. He pushed his lubricated fingers against your swollen clit and started to rub small, slow, circles against it. Your entire body jerked and he let go of your hands to press your hips down, your tailbone pushed against the tile and you winced causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You felt his fingers stop and instead felt a hand push your cheeks together causing your eyes to snap open, the smell of your pussy wafted toward your nose and a moan escaped your lips.

“Look at me. Don’t close your fucking eyes.” Anakin said, pushing your face to the side and letting go. His hand reached back down between your legs and he slipped two fingers into you. A yelp escaped you as he began to slide in and out, curling his fingers upward. Your eyes didn’t dare leave his as he continued to graze against the top wall. Your legs squeezed and his body kept them from closing. “Open those legs.” He seethed and removed his other hand from holding you down to push your leg back down before returning to its spot on your hips. You pulled your legs apart and he continued to stare into your eyes. He ducked down and his tongue pushed against your clit as he fingered you.

“Y-yes.. Please..” You moaned as he began to flick his tongue against the nerve endings. He still hadn’t broken eye contact and you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach, your legs began to shake as well. His mouth moved away from you but his hand continued to defile your hole. “You cum when I say so, you desperate, needy girl.” He spat and slowly returned to licking away at your clit. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched loudly in your throat. Your cheeks and ears burned at the words that fell through his lips.

“Yes, Anakin.” You said through your moans. You began clenching your pussy to hold back but that made the feelings even more amplified. Your breathing began to get heavier and heavier as you tried to take your mind somewhere else to keep yourself from going against his words but it was nearly impossible when you were forced to stare directly at him. He went on for what felt like an eternity before whispering against you. “Now.” He said and the vibrations of his voice made your entire body convulse as you let yourself go. You whimpered and squirmed while he held you in place. The knot in your stomach unraveled and warmth spread through your whole body, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as you whimpered his name like it was the only word you knew. He pulled his fingers out and used your robe to wipe them off, his mouth followed shortly. He threw your clothes back at you and stood up.

“You can go now.” He said with a hint of a triumphant smile gracing his features. You sat up and immediately began to put the clothes back on, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable for your liking. When you stood up he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward him as he stared down at you with a firm grip on your bicep.

“Watch that wound and come back tomorrow.” He said with a voice that would have made any innocent bystander believe that nothing had happened in the last ten minutes. He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on your head and his free hand moved your hair from your face.

You simply nodded and mumbled a quick, “Yes, Anakin.” before ducking out of his room and speed walking back to your own quarters, praying nobody saw you and suspected anything. You knew exactly how proud and cocky he looked as you left, you didn’t even need to look back at him. You felt like the dog obeying commands now and you really liked it, too.

PART TWO HERE YA NASTIES

@likeavillian24

#part two is up #star wars anakin #anakin smut #anakin x fem reader #anakin x you #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars smut #anakin x jedi reader #akain skywalker x y/n #anakin x y/n #star wars prequels

1K notes · View notes

sweetbluus · 8 months

Text

love on the court

synopsis: you and kim chaewon were considered to be tennis prodigies. unfortunately, there's only room for one at the top. after years of rivalry, you now find yourselves on the same team, working together to help your university win a major title.

pairing: tennis player kim chaewon x tennis player fem!reader

tags: rivals to lovers, slow burn, hurt/comfort

warnings: cursing, toxic coach, mention of accident

word count: 18.1k

notes: while tennis is mentioned quite often, the technicalities of the actual game itself is not covered. aside from knowing that singles has one player on each side of the court, while doubles put two on each side, you do not need to know anything else about the rules of the sport before reading this. enjoy!

from as far back as your memory reaches, a tennis racket has been a natural extension of your hand. your parents were the first to notice your interest in the sport when you were just a baby. your father used to play for fun, and at the tender age of 4, you stumbled upon one of his rackets hidden in your parents' closet.

legend has it that you threw a tantrum the moment they tried to take the racket away from you.

ever since, you've been consistently enrolled in tennis lessons, mastering the rules and refining your techniques. tennis became your world, your life. however, your natural talent could only take you so far. you spent hours of your childhood dedicated to learning the craft and then slowly perfecting it.

even though you were young, you despised the assumption that your skill level was solely due to natural talent. those who made such claims were oblivious to the immense effort you invested.

they had no idea of the blood you shed on the court, the dives you took for every ball, the sweat that poured while running across the court, relentlessly striving to score, and the tears that were shed in moments of loneliness and isolation.

you trained under coach lim, a meticulous and stern man with a relentless pursuit of perfection. if you made an error in your hits on a given day, he would have you practice that specific hit repeatedly until it met his standards of flawlessness, regardless of the time it took.

while other kids your age were having playdates and enjoying weekends with friends, your focus remained on the court. unlike other kids who treated tennis as a simple hobby, your commitment ran much deeper—it had become your life.

you crossed paths with kim chaewon when you were just 6 years old. she also began training under coach lim's guidance. despite being your age, her abilities outshined yours. initially, this didn't bother you. in fact, you saw her superior skills as a motivating factor, spurring you to push yourself harder with each passing day.

you thought she was pretty. her hair was always perfect despite the long hours of practice. despite the sweat, she was incredibly beautiful. looking back, you'd admit you had a slight crush on her during those days. she was not only attractive and talented but also kind to you.

on one occasion, she offered you an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich her parents had packed for her. you had forgotten to bring lunch and were starving, so you accepted the sandwich without hesitation.

"thank you," you managed to say with your mouth full of peanut butter and jelly.

"don't talk with your mouth full. you're going to choke," she scolded you, bossiness laced in her voice.

you were tempted to consider chaewon as a friend. you wanted it to be true, but coach lim always seemed to interfere. moreover, chaewon's parents were cautious about distractions, and you were unfortunately deemed a possible one.

due to coach lim's influence and the involvement of chaewon's parents, both you and chaewon directed your focus entirely toward the game, displaying little desire to establish a friendship with each other or anyone else.

nonetheless, occasional short conversations did happen between you two. her presence in your life didn't disrupt your rhythm in the least. in truth, you were eager to embrace it, hoping for a friend.

that was the case until coach lim began drawing comparisons.

“chaewon can do this, why can't you?”

“y/n, do it like chaewon! you're doing it wrong; she's doing it perfectly.”

“you're never going to go pro if you can't hit like chaewon.”

for the entirety of your youth, these hurtful remarks echoed ceaselessly during the harsh training sessions with chaewon under coach lim. with each repetition of such painful critiques, the seeds of resentment and bitterness took root within you, slowly but surely intensifying your animosity towards her.

while chaewon basked in coach lim's favor, he viewed you as inferior to her - an individual lacking the potential to become the best.

by the time you reached 14, you had dedicated the majority of your life to honing your skills. under coach lim's rigorous guidance, you attained a level of skill that was truly difficult to fully grasp.

despite your own high level of skill, victories against chaewon had been scarce compared to losses. throughout the years, it was inevitable that coach lim's immense pressure and expectations eventually impacted chaewon.

the last time you saw chaewon was right before the two of you started high school. the so-called goodbye between the two of you was less than ideal.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the tennis court. the air was thick with tension as you and chaewon faced off at the net after another match. chaewon's triumphant smile contrasted sharply with your clenched fists and fiery glare.

"looks like i won again," chaewon's voice dripped with arrogance. "you really can't keep up, can you?"

"you got lucky," you spat out, your voice laced with resentment.

chaewon's triumphant smile didn't waver. "luck had nothing to do with it. i simply played better than you, just like every other time."

a spark of anger ignited in your eyes, your resolve strengthening. "you think you're invincible, don't you? just because you've managed to string a few wins together?"

chaewon widened her smirk. "well, it's not me who's struggling with straight losses against a single opponent."

your voice shook with fury, your cheeks flushed with emotion. "you know nothing about the effort i've poured into this, the sleepless nights, the sacrifices i've made. you're so blind to your own arrogance."

“save your sob story for someone who actually gives a shit,” chaewon let out a chuckle. "and yet your hard work can't even get you close. it's sad, really."

“fuck you, chaewon.” you walked away from her, not bothering to turn back to face her.

that wasn’t the first heated argument you had with her. coach lim’s toxic mentality had taken a toll on her, transforming her into a single-minded athlete consumed by her own arrogance.

she didn’t come to practice the next day.

your main goal in your tennis career, aside from becoming a world-renowned professional and winning prestigious titles such as wimbledon, was simply to be the best that you could possibly be - to reach your full potential and then exceed it.

despite its toxicity, it was difficult to avoid the influence of coach lim’s mindset since you had been under his direction for the majority of your life. it became ingrained in you, fostering a desire for perfection in every conceivable aspect.

balancing high school life with being one of south korea's best tennis players was no easy task, yet you managed to persevere.

in your freshman year of high school, you made your first genuine long-term friend. throughout high school, your reputation preceded you on the tennis team. you didn't go out of your way to make friends, which added to the intimidation people felt in your presence. however, one daring individual decided to take the chance.

huh yunjin was an impressive tennis player herself. with a rigorous practice routine, she had the potential to embark on a professional career. of course, she was no match for you - nobody in that entire city was.

she was the only person who dared to be your partner during drills and practice matches. to be fair, she was also the only person capable of keeping up with you. yunjin was friendly and talkative, two traits you lacked.

yet, you found comfort in her stories of teenage drama and the latest gossip she would share. it introduced a semblance of normalcy to your life, a rarity given your deep immersion in the world of tennis.

coach lim held a dislike for yunjin. he believed she might distract you from achieving excellence. he had repeatedly advised you to end your friendship. despite your usual compliance, this was one matter you chose to firmly oppose against your respected coach.

you firmly held the belief that your friendship with yunjin was not something to be casually discarded. that day you defied him, he assigned you extra laps and extended your time on the court for hours.

you decided to hide your friendship with her from him.

over the course of four years in high school, your connection with yunjin deepened, and she gradually became your best friend. as your senior year unfolded, a moment of immense happiness united the two of you: the news that both of you had secured scholarships to hybe university, home to the country’s best college tennis team.

at 18 years old, you reside in the university dorms, sharing the space with your roommate, yunjin. coach lim suggested that you turn professional right after completing high school. however, your parents encouraged you to embrace college life and experience it like any other young person.

during this time, you gained a degree of independence from coach lim, as you had a new coach to guide you whom you had yet to meet. in addition, hybe university was 4 hours away from your hometown.

ahead of the semester's start, all athletes moved in early for summer workouts. before the sun even had a chance to emerge from the clouds, you and yunjin were already awake, gearing up for the demanding day ahead.

without you knowing, yunjin prepared an additional lunch and extra snacks for your sake. your unwavering dedication to tennis often led you to overlook even the most basic needs, such as proper nutrition.

while unfamiliar with the incoming first-year teammates, both you and yunjin were well-acquainted with miyawaki sakura. she stood as a third-year student and the esteemed captain of the women's tennis team. her prowess on the court was widely acknowledged, and it was clear to everyone that she was destined for professional success following her graduation after her fourth year.

“i'm so excited to meet her," yunjin's step danced with excitement as she spoke. the walk from your dorm to the tennis courts took only about 15 minutes. "not only is she super talented, but she's also really attractive!"

“yeah, i know,” you replied nonchalantly. “i played a match with her once, a couple years back.”

yunjin’s mouth hung open, “why do you never tell me important things that happen in your life?”

“first of all, you’re exaggerating. you’re my only friend; i tell you everything about my life. i didn't think you'd be interested in hearing about a tennis match,” you reasoned with yunjin.

“i’d definitely want to hear about it, especially if your match involved a pretty girl!” yunjin exclaimed.

“she’s even prettier in real life,” you giggled as yunjin pushed you off the sidewalk and onto the grass.

respect for sakura ran deep within you. while your match ended in your favor, the victory had not been easily won. sakura's unwavering work ethic and dedication stood as qualities deserving of admiration. the opportunity of being part of the same team as her filled you with happiness.

you and yunjin were the first ones to arrive on the courts. the first light of dawn painted the clouds with hues of warmth and radiance. in this moment, gratitude welled within you. the results of years of unrelenting hard work and unyielding discipline finally bore fruit.

a commanding voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “good morning, ladies. you’re here early, i see.” coach yoo walked up to the bleachers where you and yunjin were warming up. immediately, the two of you bowed to her.

coach yoo's leadership, coupled with the athletes' dedication, had propelled hybe university to its standing as a top contender in collegiate tennis, not only within the country but worldwide. in your senior year of high school, you and yunjin received the chance to meet her and undergo interviews for your scholarships.

“good morning, coach,” you and yunjin said in unison. the sound of footsteps drew your attention.

“good morning, everyone. i hope you’ve had your breakfast because today is going to be a long day,” sakura announced as she walked up to the three of you. you nudged yunjin in the side, signaling her to close her slightly agape mouth.

“miyawaki, don’t scare the newbies like that,” coach yoo jokingly scolded the captain.

“oh, please. the two of them aren’t newbies,” sakura remarked, directing a nod at you. it was evident that she recalled your match from a few years ago.

sakura's stature was shorter than yours and yunjin's, yet her toned shoulders bore testament to the years of relentless dedication. a dark ponytail held her hair in place, and as she stood before you, her confident posture spoke volumes, while her presence held a quiet authority, ready to emerge when circumstances demanded.

after a few minutes, the remainder of the team started arriving at the court. among them were two third-years like sakura: choi yena and lee chaeyeon. you had seen their names before in past tournaments.

another teammate, yabuki nako, was a second-year student. like sakura, she was born in japan. however, she made the decision to relocate to south korea after being scouted by coach yoo during her high school years.

each of them extended introductions to you and yunjin. they all came across as quite friendly, leaving a positive impression on both of you.

“waiting for two more people,” coach's announcement rang out. “they should be arriving any minute now.” both you and yunjin shared a glance, curiosity evident as you anticipated the arrival of your new teammates.

and there they appeared. “y/n and yunjin, meet your fellow first-years,” sakura stated, her gaze locked on the approaching figures. a brief pause followed, and a sinking feeling took hold of your heart.

kim chaewon. she stood before the team and offered a bow, a smile gracing her face as she introduced herself. “good morning, everyone. i’m kim chaewon.” her eyes swept across your teammates, yet her gaze lingered on you for a fraction longer. a persistent thought pricked at you - perhaps she didn't even remember you.

the girl standing beside her introduced herself as nakamura kazuha. much like sakura and nako, she was discovered in japan and then made her way to south korea. you were much less attentive when kazuha introduced herself.

it had been years, yet the sting of resentment and bitterness still resurfaced. you failed to shake off the flood of memories that came when you glanced her way.

"alright, ladies. we'll kick off today's session with a few laps around the court to warm up. then, we'll move on to our drills. finally, we'll have our practice matches." coach yoo's authoritative voice filled the morning air. "is that clear?"

"yes, coach!" the team replied together.

throughout the day's workout, you and chaewon remained silent towards each other. while you'd held conversations with everyone else, you made an extra effort to avoid her.

you noticed her new appearance: short hair, secured in a small ponytail just like the rest of the team. her slender physique and well-defined arms captured your attention. whenever her gaze landed your way, you reflexively glanced away, almost snapping your neck in the process.

the practice matches pitted the upperclassmen against the underclassmen. you won each game against sakura, yena, chaeyeon, and nako. the matches were far from easy, further affirming the status of this collegiate team as one of the world's best.

chaewon herself secured victories against all the upperclassmen, while kazuha and yunjin fell short and experienced a couple of losses.

there was a shift in chaewon. if you were both still 14, she would often flaunt her victories, but now she kept her pride in check, not allowing it to overwhelm and dominate the court.

by the time the day's training wrapped up at around 5 pm, all of you were soaked in sweat, a clear demonstration of the commitment you all exhibited on the court.

"wow, the first-years this time around are really impressive," yena exclaimed with enthusiasm. the sentiment was echoed by the other upperclassmen.

you didn’t know who suggested it, but coach yoo readily agreed that tomorrow’s workout should pit the underclassmen against each other. it wasn't as if you were afraid of kim chaewon. certainly not. if anything, you were eager to face her once again to prove that you could win.

“are you okay?" yunjin's concern filled the air as the two of you got ready for bed in your dorm.

"yeah, what's on your mind?" you'd confided in her about chaewon before, recounting the challenges you faced during your formative years.

"i mean, i know how you feel about chaewon. i understand it’s in the past, but i just want to make sure you're okay seeing her again," yunjin reasoned while removing her face mask.

one of the things you truly appreciated about yunjin was her thoughtfulness. despite her boisterous nature at times, her kind heart and empathy shone through as true markers of her remarkable character.

"thanks for checking in, jin." you offered her a sincere smile. "i promise i'm okay." it wasn't entirely a lie. seeing chaewon earlier did churn your stomach, but you weren't about to run and hide.

"if you say so. just remember i'm here if you need to talk. good night!" yunjin's voice rang out as she entered her own bedroom. you thanked your past self for standing up and defying your coach to keep your friendship with yunjin.

the next morning, coach yoo leads you through a similar routine as the day before. by the time the drills conclude, it's time for the practice matches.

as the underclassmen, you watch the upperclassmen compete against each other first. despite your own impressive skill level, you carry a profound respect for anyone who commits to this sport. achieving such an elite status demands years of hard work and countless hours on the court.

that's why chaewon's seemingly natural born talent gnaws at you. in your eyes, she's never experienced the weight of enduring coaches' criticisms, discontent with their athletes' performance. she's never experienced the sting of wrapping her bleeding hand in gauze just to return to the court after an injury, all because her coach pushed her to win. she's never had to prove to her coach that she was more than good enough.

perhaps you weren't entirely truthful with yunjin. you're definitely not okay.

now, it's the underclassmen's time to participate in practice matches amongst themselves. your initial matchup is against kazuha. despite her determined effort, you manage to secure victory in the game.

"great matches, underclassmen. we'll take a quick break, and then we'll set up another round of games. on one court, nakamura will face huh, and on the other, kim will play against y/l/n. clear?"

"yes, coach!" the response comes in unison from you and the other 1st years.

following coach yoo's instructions, yunjin shoots you a look - an unspoken check on your well-being. you respond with a nod, reassuring her. you sense chaewon's eyes on you, even though neither of you have spoken a word to each other. fortunately, everyone on the team, except for yunjin, seems unconcerned.

next up are the practice matches among the underclassmen. you and chaewon head to opposite sides of the court and then approach the net.

"let's have a good match," chaewon offers her hand. she’s certainly not the same 14-year-old you remember.

you extend your hand and shake hers. "yeah, let's."

the first serve sends the ball hurtling, starting a back-and-forth that feels like a tense duel. each racket swing carries a silent rivalry, its roots unknown. chaewon's movements are smooth and graceful, her skill evident in every shot.

the rallies are fierce, both of you pushing your limits. with every point, the court witnesses a battle between your past and present selves. to you, it's a struggle not just for victory, but for redemption.

but as the game progresses, a sinking feeling settles in. chaewon's shots grow sharper, her tactics unpredictable. with every point she claims, the gap widens, and the tension in your chest grows.

as your points lag behind, coach lim’s voice takes over your mind.

“you’ll never get anywhere if you hit the ball like that!”

“that’s how failures hit the ball!”

“this is why chaewon is better than you!”

the upperclassmen observe, the air thick with anticipation. as the final point approaches, you fight to keep your footing. every rally is a test of endurance and willpower. but in the end, as the decisive point slips from your grasp, the weight of the loss settles in.

you brace yourself for the usual degrading comments chaewon would deliver after a match, but they never come.

“good game,” chaewon says to you breathlessly as the two of you come face to face at the net. once again, she offers her hand.

you also extend your hand and shake hers. "good game," you reply. although it wasn't, not for you. your form had faltered, your focus had wandered from the game, and your overall performance was terrible.

coach yoo thought otherwise. “that was an amazing game, ladies,” she says as the two of you walk up to the bleachers where the upperclassmen are also in awe of you and chaewon’s combined talent. you and chaewon send her an appreciative nod, unable to speak from the intense match.

"imagine if they teamed up in doubles… they’d be unstoppable!" an upperclassman's voice rings out, echoed by a chorus of agreements.

"that's a thought for the future. right now, our session's over. now, go shower because you all smell! i'll see everyone tomorrow." coach yoo bids the team farewell, and everyone disperses in their own directions.

"jin, i'll stick around for a bit. just want to work on something real quick," you inform your best friend, avoiding her gaze. you sense her disapproval of your decision to stay back and overexert yourself. but she knows her words won't sway you.

with a sigh, she grabs something from her bag. "don't stay too late, and make sure to eat." she hands you a sandwich she prepared in the morning. you offer a thankful smile and wave as she heads back to the dorm. you feel chaewon's eyes stay on you before she leaves alongside kazuha.

you've lost track of how many times you've struck the ball now. the moon hangs in the sky, casting its glow as the court lights illuminate the surroundings. your shirt is drenched with sweat, and your limbs ache from the relentless exertion.

just one more.

it needs to be perfect.

you serve the ball to the other side of the net, and it goes further out. “you know, i've heard of people trying to hit the ball over the net, not into the next galaxy,” a loud voice calls out behind you.

you turn around and spot chaewon. your surprise is carefully masked. she's in sweatpants and a sleep shirt, clearly ready to call it a night.

"what are you doing here? thought you left a while ago," you inquire as she approaches the other end of the court, racket in hand. it's the spare one you kept in your bag.

“i could ask you the same thing. just needed some fresh air, and i heard someone on the court,” chaewon reasons. “serve the ball.”

“what?” you hesitate, but she readies herself for your serve.

you serve the ball, and she hits it back with perfect accuracy. you volley back, and she lets it go past.

“your serve isn’t powerful enough. it’s too predictable, and anyone from a mile away can see the ball’s trajectory. your toss is inconsistent. you’re rushing,” chaewon critiques, and you feel anger boil up within. you take deep breaths, suppressing the urge to snap back.

apart from coaches, chaewon is perhaps the only one who can give such pointed criticism. she's earned that right, but you can’t stand that fact.

in that instant, any semblance of growth you had believed in during the years of separation seems to evaporate. suddenly, you and chaewon are back to being 14-year-olds, and you release the hold on your emotions that you've painstakingly kept in check over the years.

"offering some unsolicited advice again, are we?" your voice drips with sarcasm as you tighten your grip on your racket. you walk up to chaewon on the side of the court she's on.

chaewon's eyes flash, a mixture of annoyance and defiance in her gaze. "if you're so bothered by a little feedback, maybe you should work on your sportsmanship."

your nostrils flare, your temper flaring like a wildfire. "i don't need your condescension, chaewon. your opinions on my game mean absolutely nothing to me."

a derisive smirk tugs at the corner of chaewon's lips. "ah, of course. because you're the embodiment of perfection on the court, right?"

"and just when i thought you had changed, it turns out you're still the same arrogant little girl you used to be." your eyes narrow dangerously.

"at least i don't crumble under pressure like some people i know." chaewon's retort is quick and cutting.

your fists clench at your sides, your control slipping further and further away. "your arrogance is blinding you."

a mocking laugh escapes chaewon's lips. "and your insecurities are consuming you.”

“i don’t know what i ever did to you, chaewon,” your voice tinged with frustration and confusion.

chaewon's gaze hardens, her tone icy. "spare me the innocence act. you always played the victim, didn't you? always making everyone believe you were the hardworking underdog while secretly enjoying the attention."

your fists tremble with the effort to keep your composure. "you think you're better than everyone just because you have some natural talent. you never understood the meaning of hard work because everything came easily to you."

deep down, you recognize the unfairness in assuming that chaewon had never struggled. this game is challenging, demanding time, effort, and sacrifice to excel. however, in this moment, your anger clouds your judgment, making it difficult to think rationally.

the tension between you two is intense, an invisible wall of resentment and pride keeping you apart. years of pent-up feelings overflow, turning your argument into a clash of words.

"maybe you should learn some humility," you shoot back, your voice a mix of defiance and bitterness.

chaewon's lips curl into a bitter smile. "and maybe you should learn that not everyone owes you their admiration."

your argument becomes an explosive clash of egos as the air between you cracks with disdain. the intensity is palpable as you lock eyes, a silent challenge passing between you. neither is willing to back down, your mutual contempt fueling the fire of your heated exchange.

the silence is broken by the ringing of your phone. retrieving it from your pocket, you notice it's yunjin calling. you try to collect yourself after the intense argument with chaewon before answering.

“where the hell are you? it’s almost midnight! we have practice at 6 in the morning!" yunjin's voice comes through the call, her words so fierce that you instinctively move your phone away from your ear to avoid the impact of her raised volume.

"i got caught up in something. i'm on my way home," you reply before ending the call. looking around, you notice chaewon has already left. your earlier assumption was wrong. chaewon hasn't changed a bit.

summer workouts lasted for a month. during that time, you formed a close connection with the upperclassmen. they shared their knowledge, and you reciprocated with your insights.

throughout the summer training sessions, you and chaewon don’t speak again after that night. most of the communication, if you could even call it that, between the two of you happened wordlessly - both of you apprehensive that an outburst of emotions might unfold.

it was a refreshing change not to be subjected to a coach's constant scrutiny. coach yoo brought a different approach, avoiding pitting teammates against each other and nurturing teamwork instead.

during one particular workout, you felt sick after not having eaten all day, causing you to miss multiple easy shots. coach yoo noticed and walked up to you. you braced yourself to hear the harsh critiques.

"are you okay, y/l/n?" her typically firm tone carried a hint of softness, unveiling a compassionate side beneath her exterior.

"yes, coach. just not feeling well," you weakly responded, your determination to push through still intact. "i can keep going."

coach yoo's reply was resolute yet caring. "head back to your dorm, y/l/n. i don't want you collapsing on my court. yunjin, make sure she gets there." yunjin promptly set aside her gear and accompanied you.

experiencing a coach who seamlessly blended unwavering discipline with genuine concern was a new and welcomed sensation.

the semester begins, and the team workouts now occur every other day, a change from the daily summer sessions. you find relief in sharing several classes with yunjin, and you're even more relieved that none of your classes overlap with chaewon's, thanks to the significant differences in your majors.

as for the team format, coach yoo's decision places you, chaewon, sakura, and yena in singles matches for the season. yunjin is paired with chaeyeon, while kazuha is teamed up with nako for doubles. the team effortlessly conquers the initial set of matches against other schools, solidifying the university's reputation as the country's best tennis team.

unfortunately, a setback arises when chaeyeon gets injured and nako has to fly back to japan due to a family emergency, both incidents happening in the middle of the season. as a result, coach yoo pairs yunjin and kazuha for doubles. nevertheless, the team is left with one pair missing.

"kim and y/l/n, you two will form the new doubles pair," coach yoo announces, sending a chill down your spine. yunjin picks up on your tension and raises a question, "coach, with all respect, i could be paired with y/n, and kazuha could be paired with chaewon." her inquiry carries an awareness of the history between you and chaewon. the upperclassmen raise their eyebrows at yunjin's nerve in questioning the coach's decision.

before she answers, coach yoo instructs the upperclassmen to return to the courts to finish their drills, leaving the underclassmen alone with the coach. “my decision is final, yunjin.”

your best friend sends you an apologetic look. although her suggestion was denied, you were still quite appreciative that she went out of her way and tried for you. you notice that chaewon’s avoiding your gaze, feeling similarly to how you feel about coach yoo’s decision.

"i'm not blind," coach yoo starts off, catching your attention with her very first words. your eyes widen, sensing that she’s directing her words at you and chaewon. "i can sense the history between both of you. even the football players on the field across the campus could probably pick up on the tension. it's noticeable for everyone, not just you two."

her gaze shifts between you and chaewon, each of you feeling the weight of her words. "this situation offers an opportunity for you to work together, set aside your differences, and learn to function as a united team. we may play singles matches, but the impact of individual actions or conflicts ripples through the entire team."

admittedly, you recognize the truth in coach yoo's perspective. the realization that your past with chaewon is affecting the whole team hits you, highlighting the significance of teamwork in an individual sport like tennis. a silent nod from chaewon signals her agreement with coach yoo's assessment.

"also," coach yoo continues, "it gives us the chance to make the most of the differing playing styles that both of you bring to the table." her reasoning prompts a puzzled exchange of glances between you and yunjin.

"i'm sorry, coach, but i don’t quite understand," chaewon interjects, voicing the confusion that mirrors your own. kazuha stands by chaewon's side, and her knowing expression leads you to believe that chaewon has likely shared some details about your shared history.

“chaewon plays with aggression on the court, going for powerful shots and taking calculated risks to dominate the game. meanwhile, y/n prioritizes precision and control. she aims for well-placed shots, aiming to minimize errors," coach yoo’s insightful breakdown of your playstyles leaves you in awe. it's clear why she's the driving force behind the university's success.

“not only that, chaewon is adaptable. she changes strategies and shots based on her opponent's weaknesses. on the other hand, y/n focuses on consistent shots, working to make fewer errors and capitalize on opponents' mistakes.”

a rare moment of understanding passes between you and chaewon for the first time that day. both of you recognized the mutual reluctance to be paired, yet coach yoo’s rationale stands firm, reminding you that further questioning is unnecessary.

“i know it’ll be difficult to adjust at first, but you’re here for a reason. you are all elite athletes in this sport. don’t let some petty rivalry prevent you from reaching your potential,” coach yoo says in a gentle tone. “we’ll have our first practice match between the new doubles teams at our next practice.”

you take a deep breath, allowing coach yoo's words to sink in. you realize that you can't allow your history with chaewon and your relationship with her to hinder your performance on the court.

on the day of the next practice, the sun hid behind the clouds, casting shifting shadows across the court. as the upperclassmen squared off in practice matches, coach yoo closely observed your game against yunjin and kazuha, where chaewon partnered with you.

as the game went on, chaewon's aggressive style clashed with your focus on precision. a tense rally ended with chaewon going for a powerful shot that sailed just wide of the line.

"chaewon, you need to control your shots better," you commented, your frustration barely concealed.

the response was swift, brimming with a sense of defiance. "oh, and you think your careful little taps are any better?" chaewon retorted, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"at least i don't risk losing points with reckless shots," you shot back, your voice dripping with annoyance.

coach yoo's whistle cuts through the tension before the argument can escalate further. "kim and y/l/n, laps around the court. now." both you and your doubles partner let out exasperated groans, setting down your rackets and beginning the laps.

“if i hear another argument from the two of you, the entire team does laps!” coach yoo's voice echoes across the courts, a clear warning for all to hear.

as you jog the laps, chaewon deliberately nudges your shoulder. you muster all your self-control to dismiss it, not wanting to be the cause of extra work for the team.

the next practices end up similarly with you and chaewon bickering, not being able to play the best way the two of you possibly could. with an important match coming up against the university that you faced off against in last year’s national finals.

"jin, she's a terrible partner. she doesn't listen to me, she does whatever she wants, and she doesn't even play like i'm there," you confide in a hushed tone to yunjin, perched together on the bleachers.

"hmm, not listening and doing whatever she wants... sounds like you're describing someone familiar," yunjin playfully remarks, prompting you to lightly slap her shoulder. "just kidding! but seriously, you've got to find a way to make it work with her. i know it’s hard, but this upcoming match is important. you two are the best of the best, but if you can't cooperate, there’s no point."

you knew yunjin had a point. all those days of tough training, all that effort to secure your place at this top tennis university—none of it should crumble due to this situation. so, with a deep breath, you head over to where chaewon is seated with kazuha. you firmly grab chaewon's arm and lead her to a quieter spot.

“ow, jesus! you’ve got some man hands,” chaewon complains, trying to free her arm from your hold. you roll your eyes, holding back any sharp response.

"firstly, your hands are just as rough as mine," you start, your tone steady. "secondly, let me speak before you start interrupting." chaewon raises an eyebrow. "we can't keep this up. i know we've got differences, and our history isn't great. but now we're doubles partners."

"oh great, are you going to give a cheesy motivational speech?" chaewon scoffs, her eyes rolling. this is going to be nearly impossible.

"could you not interrupt? act your age," you sigh with frustration. "this isn't some pep talk. it's about the team. we're representing our university, and, let's face it, we're the best players they’ve got." chaewon stays silent, but you can sense she agrees.

“my point is, whatever this ‘thing’ is happening between us needs to stop, or at least be put aside. coach yoo is right. we can't let our personal issues mess up our game," you explain to her.

there's a pause before chaewon responds, “i don’t need you to tell me how to play this game.”

your response is quick and honest. "i'm not trying to tell you. i'm asking you to consider working together." you swallow your pride. "we both bring unique strengths to the court. if we combine them, we'll be an unbeatable team."

"is this your way of admitting i'm better than you?" chaewon raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

you feel like giving up. "you're impossible. i can't do this."

before you turn away, chaewon's voice catches your attention. "being unbeatable does sound appealing." she lingers for a moment. "after all these years, after everything... do you really think we can do this?" the sudden, unexpected change in chaewon's tone catches you off guard. there's a subtle trace of vulnerability, hinting at the impact of coach lim's harmful ideology.

“it's definitely going to be a challenge, no doubt, but i think we have what it takes. we're both talented players,” you respond.

“if we can just get over ourselves and focus on winning together, we’d crush everyone in the way.” a spark ignites in your eyes, mirrored by a similar gleam in chaewon's gaze. the fleeting vulnerability she displayed earlier has vanished.

chaewon lets out a quiet chuckle, “fine, let's give it a shot. don't expect any sappy gratitude speeches from me.”

“not in my wildest dreams, kim.”

the next practice is the last one before the important game against last year's runners-up in the national championship. while not the national tournament itself, this match holds great importance. it will set the tone for how your team fares for the rest of the year. your team is well aware that the competition is eyeing you all closely.

“today's practice match will have sakura and yena as a doubles pair going against the underclassmen pairs," coach yoo announces.

you and chaewon face off against sakura and yena first. the atmosphere is charged with tension, yet a new kind of energy fills the air. there is an unspoken determination between you and chaewon to put your differences aside and make it work for the sake of the team.

as the match begins, there are a few miscommunications and awkward moments. your precision clashes with chaewon's aggression, causing the two of you to miss easy shots. but as the match progresses, something begins to shift.

your well-placed shots start to complement chaewon's powerful swings, and chaewon's dynamic style adds an unexpected element to your controlled approach.

during a pivotal moment in the game, sakura and yena begin a relentless barrage of rapid hits. your quick reflexes allow you to anticipate yena's return, sending a scarily accurate shot back to the opposing side. chaewon, on the other hand, has positioned herself near the net, ready to capitalize on any opportunity.

as yena's return skims over the net, chaewon pounces with a fierce overhead smash that sends the ball hurtling downward with incredible force. sakura tries to counter, but her shot is rushed. you are already positioned perfectly, gently tapping the ball over the net. it lands just inside the line on the other side.

sakura and yena can't reach it in time. yunjin and kazuha’s cheers from the bench reach your ears. locking eyes with chaewon, both of you panting, a silent agreement forms between you. the understanding is wordless yet profound – you can make this work.

“i love always being right,” you overhear coach yoo say.

you and chaewon easily beat your matchup in the game against the other university. and not just that, your whole team puts on an impressive display, completely outplaying the opponent and confirming the hybe university tennis team’s status as the best in the nation.

at the next team practice, coach yoo gathers everyone around for an important announcement. "the official national tournament is approaching. fortunately, chaeyeon's recovery is progressing well, and nako will be flying in from japan tomorrow." relief floods across everyone's faces, a testament to the genuine bond that the girls share.

"however," coach yoo continues, capturing your attention, "i'd like y/n and chaewon to remain as our doubles pair. kazuha and yunjin will return to playing singles, and chaeyeon will be paired with nako for doubles."

you notice a glint of confusion in chaewon's eyes, her brows furrowing in response. understandably so. you both assumed that you'd return to playing singles once chaeyeon and nako returned.

"i understand this might be unexpected, but witnessing you two on the court the other day was like witnessing pure magic. you two make an incredible team," coach yoo asserts with conviction. “it was pure perfection.”

hearing coach yoo express something so lofty is a rarity, and you, along with the rest of the team, are well aware of that fact. this makes her statement even more impactful and meaningful.

“now, let’s continue our practice. we have a championship to win. do i make myself clear?” coach yoo looks at everyone, emanating a sense of determination and conviction that is palpable.

in unison, the team replies, “yes, coach!”

after a particularly challenging practice session where your rhythm was off, you find a seat on the bench next to yunjin. "what's on the menu for dinner?" she asks, gathering her things to leave the court and head back to the dorm.

you shake your head, a determined expression on your face. "i think i'll stay back a bit. i need more practice."

yunjin shoots you a disbelieving look. "y/n, you're pushing yourself too hard again."

"i have to," you sigh. "i don't want to be a liability to chaewon."

"you're not a liability, and you won't be," yunjin insists, though she knows arguing won't change your mind. "alright, just don't stay too late. i'll come back after i eat and bring you some food."

"i appreciate it, but i'll be fine," you try to assure her.

"if i didn't feed you, you'd probably have starved by now," yunjin says with a deadpan expression.

"okay, okay. no need to be so dramatic," you chuckle at your best friend's playful exaggeration.

as yunjin heads off, you return to the court with your racket in hand. using the ball machine, you start a practice session focused on refining your form, determined to make each hit better than the last.

“this is tennis, not baseball. stop trying to hit home runs,” a familiar voice chimes in.

“what if i've had a change of heart and i'm just practicing for when i switch over to my new passion, which is baseball?” you retort with a touch of sarcasm.

“seems like you're the new comedian in town, y/n,” chaewon quips, strolling over to your side of the court. after the countless practices you've shared as doubles partners, you've grown skilled at rolling with chaewon's jabs and responding in a similar fashion. similarly, chaewon has learned to temper her humor, keeping it in the realm of playful banter rather than letting it escalate into a full-blown argument.

"why do you hit the ball like that?" chaewon asks, stepping closer to you.

"like what?" you scoff at her question, sensing that she isn't trying to insult you.

"like you're afraid," she comments, crossing her arms as she positions herself beside you.

you're not sure how to respond. "i don't know what you mean. this is how coach lim taught me."

at the mention of her old coach, you notice a change in chaewon's posture. her body tenses, and her expression shifts into one of displeasure. it's as if you've accidentally struck a nerve.

"well, he taught us wrong," chaewon asserts, her tone resolute.

you're taken aback by her defiance toward her former coach. even more surprising is the sensation of her front pressing against your back as she wraps her arms around you and places them on yours.

suddenly, you’re overly conscious of how terrible you must smell after all the hours out in the sun. heat rushes to your face. you tell yourself it's from the overexertion you’ve put your body through.

you swallow the lump in your throat before you ask, "what are you doing?"

"relax, i'm just helping you loosen up a bit," chaewon explains, her reasoning leaving you curious about her choice of words. “your swings aren’t too terrible, but they lack fluidity.”

as the ball machine shoots another ball towards you, chaewon gently guides your grip and stance, helping you align your body with the swing. the ball connects with the racket, and while the shot might not be as precise as your usual hits, there's a newfound sense of ease in the motion.

"see, you don't always have to aim for perfection," chaewon explains, her breath tickling your ear. "sometimes, it's about letting go a little and trusting your instincts."

you take a deep breath, feeling the truth in chaewon's words. as another ball comes your way, you try to mimic the more relaxed swing chaewon demonstrated. the ball sails over the net, landing safely within the court.

"you're overthinking it," chaewon advises gently. "just let your body move naturally. don't be afraid to take risks."

with chaewon's guidance, your swings gradually become less rigid and more fluid. there's a rhythm in your movements, a dance between your body and the racket. chaewon's presence, her arms wrapped securely around you, becomes a comforting anchor.

you clear your throat before speaking. "you can let go of me now." chaewon quickly releases her hold on you. walking over to the other side of the court where the ball machine is placed, you turn it off before returning to chaewon's side. she's still standing there.

her face is red too, likely from the intense practice you both had earlier and the sun's heat.

"thank you, by the way," you begin, addressing chaewon. "you didn't have to stay behind and give me tips, but you did. i really appreciate it."

"what did i say about corny speeches of gratitude?" chaewon says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"you said i would never hear them from you. i never said you would never hear them from me," you reply with a playful tone. her laughter fills the air, a sound you can't recall ever hearing before.

you pause, a question that's been gnawing at you since chaewon mentioned him now on the tip of your tongue. "i hope this isn't too personal, but what happened between you and coach lim? you suddenly stopped showing up."

the air around you two suddenly becomes heavy and serious. “i couldn’t handle it anymore, y/n. he wanted me to be perfect. i don’t even think he ever looked at me as a human; he only saw me as a machine that could win him trophies and titles.”

confronted with chaewon's raw perspective, you find yourself torn between your past assumptions and newfound understanding. younger you was too caught up in your own resentment and your endless pursuit of perfecting yourself that you never really saw the extent of coach lim’s effect on chaewon.

this whole time, you assumed that chaewon loved the idea of being coach lim’s perfect player, of basking in his praise and validation.

out of nowhere, chaewon’s gaze turns dangerously intense. "you never once offered a helping hand. you never even bothered to ask if i was okay."

you feel a surge of conflicting emotions, caught between understanding her pain and wanting to defend your own past beliefs. "chaewon, it's not like i knew what you were going through. you seemed to thrive under his coaching, and you always appeared confident."

"thrived?" chaewon's voice turns sharp, laced with frustration. "i had to put on a brave face because that's what he demanded. but deep down, i was suffocating. and you, you were always so self-absorbed in your own battles that you didn't see mine."

"give me a break, chaewon. i was just 14 like you. i was clueless," you snap, the heat of the argument pushing you to react defensively. "i had my own struggles to deal with. i couldn't just magically see past my own challenges."

she shoots you a sharp glance. “right, because you have all the entitlement in the world to be self-absorbed."

"that's not what i'm saying. stop twisting my words," you retort, your voice tinged with frustration. "we both had our share of problems, and it's unfair to blame me for not being a mind-reader." at this point, you're trying your best to hold your tears back, years of pent-up resentment and bitterness finally reaching a boiling point.

chaewon lets out a bitter laugh. “coach lim took so much away from me. he took my sense of self-worth, my youth, and for a while, my love for the game. i was the golden girl, the one everyone expected to excel, and for a while, i thought i was living the dream. but it was a nightmare. every time i stepped onto that court, i could feel his eyes on me, his expectations pressing down like a weight i couldn't escape."

"i told my parents everything. i explained how i felt like i had ceased to be a person, how there were moments when i couldn't even bring myself to step out of my room. i became consumed by the fear of tennis. fortunately, they granted me the opportunity to switch schools and train in japan for high school," she goes on. you imagine that's where she crossed paths with kazuha and developed a strong friendship with her.

her voice rises as the anger surges within her. "i couldn't breathe under his scrutiny. he wanted perfection, and every time i fell short, i felt like i was falling apart. he'd praise me one moment, and the next, he'd dissect my mistakes as if they were a crime against the sport. i lost myself in his demands, in the pressure to maintain this image of the flawless player he created." tears begin spilling from chaewon’s eyes.

you haven’t said a word since she began her confession of the true impact of coach lim’s toxic style of coaching. after all these years, you were finally able to hear her side of the story.

her voice is tainted with pain. through tears, she asks, "do you know what it feels like, y/n? to be praised and adored for your skills but to also be trapped in that admiration? to have every victory overshadowed by the fear of disappointing him?” her words trembled, marked by the cracks in her voice.

“you thought i had it all, but in reality, coach lim's obsession with my success was suffocating me. it made me forget why i loved tennis in the first place.” she falls to the ground on her knees.

chaewon's chest heaves with the force of her cries, and her breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps. the sound of her anguish fills the air, a symphony of pain and heartache. her hands cover her face as if trying to shield herself from the intensity of her own emotions, fingers trembling with the weight of her pain.

tears flow down from your own eyes, mirroring chaewon's pain. you sit down beside her, pulling her gently into your arms. it's a moment when you manage to set aside the lingering resentment and bitterness that coach lim had planted between you and chaewon.

in this shared moment, you both unleash years of pent-up pain and suffering that originated from that one man. together, you and chaewon allow the floodgates to open, releasing the years of pain and anguish inflicted upon both of you by a single man.

minutes pass, and you've spent every one of them on the ground with chaewon, your fingers drawing soothing circles on her back as you help her find calm. the air remains quiet, words unspoken between you two. the tears have ceased their flow, leaving the both of you enveloped in stillness.

eventually, you break the silence, your voice soft yet laden with sincerity. "i'm sorry, chaewon."

she shakes her head, her gaze fixed on the ground as she responds, her tone carrying a blend of self-reflection and regret. "no, you were right earlier. we were just kids, we didn’t know anything. it wasn't your fault."

you release her gently and shift back, allowing her a moment to breathe. chaewon meets your gaze, her eyes telling a story of mixed emotions that her words cannot fully express. "in the end, it wasn't on us, y/n. i was hurting, but you were hurting too. we were both too lost in our own struggles to truly see each other."

you nod at chaewon’s sentiments. “we can’t change the past, but we can move forward from this.”

“here you go again with your corny speeches,” chaewon softly jokes.

"chaewon, please. we're having a moment," you playfully retort, noticing chaewon's soft laughter, a weight lifting from the atmosphere. "what i mean is, i want to see you as my teammate, even as a friend. i don't want to perceive you the same way i have since we were six."

"i know it won't be an instant change. both of us need to deal with the personal aftermath coach lim left on us. but maybe, we can face it together," you offer a smile to chaewon, met with one in return.

"can i still make fun of you?" chaewon's familiar playfulness returns. this time, her words carry humor instead of malice.

"if you didn't, i'd think you got abducted by aliens and they replaced you with someone else," you say humorously, following her lead.

chaewon's nose is reddened, her eyes and lips still puffy from crying - yours probably look the same. yet, in this moment, as the sunset's last light embraces you both, she appears more beautiful to you than ever.

"teammates?" chaewon extends her hand, a gesture of camaraderie.

"i thought you hated corny stuff?" you glance at her hand, raising an eyebrow.

"only when it's you," chaewon quips, swift with her reply. a chuckle escapes you as you shake her hand.

"alright, teammate." a brief pause envelops you both. suddenly, footsteps approach the court.

the shrill of yunjin’s voice breaks the moment, "y/n! i got some fried chicken for you! i wasn't sure about rice, but i thought you'd be hungry, so i grabbed you s-"

yunjin's words falter as she takes in the scene before her. confusion washes over her face, her eyebrows knitting together. "what the hell happened?"

you want to laugh at how comical yunjin’s expression looks, but you hold it in because you can feel that she’s extremely confused.

"just catching up with my teammate," you gesture to chaewon. getting back on your feet, you reach out your hands, offering help, and she clasps them to stand up.

"see you at the next practice," chaewon says, her voice carrying a hint of warmth.

as she disappears from view, yunjin grabs your arm and shakes you. "you have to fill me in on everything!"

"i promise i will. now, stop shaking me. you might give me a traumatic brain injury," you joke, walking alongside yunjin back to your dorm. a burden you hadn't realized was weighing on your chest and shoulders suddenly lifts.

as practices come and go, and the season progresses, your connection with chaewon slowly but surely develops. initially, it was a challenge to release the grip of your shared history. yet, the genuine love and passion you both hold for the game serve as a balm, easing the burden of the past and guiding your attention toward the present.

during a match against another university, you and chaewon face off against a less-than-pleasant pair of opponents. these girls exude snarkiness and rudeness, assuming that you both will be an easy match for them.

"let's get this match over. just by looking at you two, we can already tell this is going to be an easy win," one of the opposing players remarks, followed by a mocking laugh from the other.

"thanks in advance for helping us keep our winning streak," adds the second girl. chaewon's temper flares, her sharp retorts ready to be unleashed. having been on the receiving end of her biting words before, you know her response could easily escalate into a confrontation. swiftly, you place a hand on her shoulder, silently urging her to keep her cool.

"let's have a good game," you respond, refusing to engage in their negativity. as you and chaewon head back to your side of the court, you meet her gaze and offer a quiet reminder, "you and i both know it's not worth it to stoop to their level."

rolling her eyes, chaewon begrudgingly agrees, acknowledging your point. "you and i both know we're going to destroy them."

and she's right. you and chaewon breeze through the match, your synergy undeniable. at one point, chaewon powerfully smashes the ball onto their side of the court. unintentionally, the ball strikes the ground and hits one of the opposing girls square in the face.

you and chaewon quickly turn away, stifling your laughter. "talk shit, get hit, bitch," chaewon whispers, her humor evident. despite finding it amusing, you lightly swat her shoulder.

throughout the season, the team's bond continues to deepen, fueled by a shared passion for the game. following matches against other schools, the entire team, except for coach yoo, gathers at sakura's expansive home near hybe university for girls' night. whether it's watching movies, playing board games, or engaging in heartfelt conversations, being in their company brings you immense joy.

in your younger days, you viewed tennis as an individual pursuit, given the one-on-one nature of matches on the court.

however, now immersed in the warmth of your team and experiencing the genuine friendship between you and the other girls, you gladly embrace this sense of unity. your heart swells as you wholeheartedly include your team in your affection, a clear indication of how much they mean to you.

"come on, y/n, serenade us with a song," yena's enthusiastic voice rang out. the team had gathered at sakura's house following a spirited match, and the evening had evolved into a cozy karaoke session, with everyone donning their pajamas.

though everyone had already taken their turn at the microphone, one person hadn't yet had their moment - you. while you had been joining in between moments, you had intentionally stepped back to ensure others took the spotlight.

"i've been singing along!" you defended playfully, only to be met with a chorus of playful boos from all around.

"technically, you need to hold the microphone to truly call it singing," chaewon interjected, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. seated beside kazuha with a snack in hand, she seemed to be the resident instigator.

"alright, alright," you conceded.

"oh, so if we want y/n to do anything, all we need is for chaewon to ask?" chaeyeon quipped, addressing the entire team and causing a ripple of amused agreement.

a collective "ooh" echoed through the room as both you and chaewon found your faces turning the shade of ripe tomatoes. in your attempt to recover, you sought refuge behind yunjin, hoping for a moment to compose yourself. to your surprise, she didn't offer any help and instead stepped aside, leaving you feeling all too exposed.

that night, you sang your heart out, surprising everyone. luckily, they all joined in, and soon, everyone was singing together.

the hybe university women’s tennis team qualifies for the national tournament, not surprising anyone. the blood, sweat, and tears poured out from every single individual on the team are what got the team here and what will help this team.

after one practice session, coach yoo gathers the team and announces, “great news, everyone. i just received word from the international tennis confederation, and they informed me that if we win the national tournament, we can get a chance to qualify for the international collegiate tennis tournament!” cheers erupt from the entire team, further fanning the fire of your determination to do well in the national tournament.

the opposing teams sense the pressure radiating from both of you whenever you step onto the court, causing your opponents to shake in their shoes.

in your final match of the tournament, the entire team relies on you and chaewon. your match will decide if the team reclaims the title of national champions and earns a chance at the international tennis tournament. despite the weight of this responsibility, it doesn't negatively impact your performance.

you score the winning shot, and the team's cheers overwhelm your senses. in the height of the moment, chaewon drops her racket and wraps you in a tight hug. sweat and muscle fatigue from the long game don't matter. you hug her back just as tightly, the past resentments and bitterness gone.

the sky painted a clear blue canvas, as if the entire universe was joining in the celebration of your team's victory. yunjin's eyes welled up with tears as she raced towards you after the win, enveloping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. the team, along with coach yoo holding the championship trophy, met on the court for a group hug.

in this moment, perfection hung in the air. you had just helped your team win a national championship, opening doors to an international title quest. better yet, your best friend shared in this triumph. in addition to all this, you had been gradually healing from coach lim's impact on your friendship with chaewon.

yet, nothing perfect lasts forever.

you're 19 when your first college year wraps up on a high note – acing your classes and clinching the national championship with chaewon for the team. after much persuasion from you and yunjin, your parents allow you to spend the summer on campus.

before summer workouts start, you and yunjin explore the city, soaking in the sights, indulging in tasty food, and sharing laughter over anything and everything. having yunjin bring her car to campus has been a real blessing. without it, you wouldn't have had as many opportunities to go on outings together.

one day, chaewon texts, inviting you and yunjin to join her and kazuha for dinner at a local restaurant. approaching the restaurant, a message from yunjin pops up, saying she can't make it. disappointment arises within you, but your appetite wins out, so you decide to head inside anyway.

chaewon is seated alone. with a playfully exaggerated tone, you quip, "what's a pretty lady like you doing here all by yourself?" banter between you and chaewon has grown more comfortable over the school year and your time as doubles partners, sometimes hinting at flirtation. it's all harmless fun – at least that's what you tell yourself.

“lucky for you, i recognized your voice, or else i might've considered knocking you out," chaewon retorts. a faint blush colors her cheeks. "kazuha had to cancel. she's not feeling well."

"yunjin won't make it either, so it's just us," you let chaewon know, scanning the menu as you speak. detecting a moment of silence, you ask, "is that okay with you?"

chaewon mock coughs, grinning. "oh, i'm suddenly feeling under the weather too," she says playfully. "i’m joking, it's perfectly good with me.”

throughout dinner, you and chaewon enjoy each other's company. she shares that her time in japan involved training under "the best coach ever," coach minatozaki, a journey that elevated her skills even higher. kazuha trained alongside her.

afterward, the craving for dessert leads you and chaewon to a nearby ice cream spot. as you walk, your hands brush multiple times, each touch setting off a warm blush across your cheeks. in the midst of this, you spot a man on a bicycle hurtling down the sidewalk. swiftly, you grab chaewon's hand, pulling her closer to you just in time to avert a collision.

“that jerk!” you exclaim, failing to notice the telltale redness that colors the tips of chaewon's ears.

“i'm not sure what would hurt more, me getting hit by that bike or being yanked by your man hands," chaewon retorts with a sarcastic tone, though her actions give her away as her fingers entwine with yours.

you both stand by the entrance of your dorm, ice cream in hand. “thank you for inviting me out for dinner. i know it wasn’t supposed to be just the both of us, but i still appreciate it," you tell chaewon. "i'll see you at practice tomorrow?"

chaewon nods, offering a small smile. "absolutely. don't be late," she says before giving your hand a gentle squeeze and heading to her own dorm, leaving you with a heart that's surprisingly light.

as you step into your dorm, you're greeted by the sight of yunjin absorbed in a game in front of the television. "i thought you were busy?" you ask.

"i was at that time, but now i'm not," yunjin responds without hesitation. a mischievous smile dances on her lips. "so, how was your date with chaewon?"

heat rushes to your face, turning it as hot as a desert. "it wasn't a date!" you hastily grab a pillow from the couch and playfully hurl it at her, hitting her squarely in the face.

as the summer workouts begin, coach yoo tailors the training regimen to ready the team for the qualifiers of the international tennis tournament. with the team getting ready for this crucial competition, coach yoo makes the call to abstain from bringing in any fresh first-years to the squad. her focus remains solely on fostering the talents of the current players under her wing.

sakura lends a hand to yunjin and kazuha during their singles drills, closely observing areas they could refine. chaeyeon and nako train together, polishing their technique to be at their highest level. beyond being the team's chief motivator and wellspring of energy, yena tirelessly hones her swings, aiming for perfection in the impending competition.

with the rest of the team pushing their physical and mental limits to prepare for the upcoming competition, you and chaewon feel propelled to surpass expectations, determined not to let the team down.

while both of you, along with the entire team, acknowledge your status as the squad's best players, you see it not as an excuse to take it easy, but as a driving force that ignites your determination.

staying on the courts after everyone else from the team has left has become routine for you. yunjin no longer bothers trying to convince you to return to the dorm with her. chaewon would occasionally make her way back after heading to her own dorm, though not every night.

today unfolded no differently. you lingered on the courts until almost midnight, the moon illuminating the sky. chaewon didn't drop by for a visit tonight. you can’t quite put a finger on why that fact is bothering you. you start packing up your belongings and start making your way to the dorms.

en route, you reach a crosswalk. despite the campus being deserted at this hour, you quickly glance both ways to ensure no car is approaching. you begin crossing, but right as you're in the middle, the roar of a powerful engine reaches your ears. before you can react, the last sight imprinted in your mind is two blazing headlights.

you slowly come to, the world around you a haze of unfamiliar sounds and sterile scents. your vision blurs, but as it gradually clears, the stark reality settles in. you're in a hospital room, the faint beeping of monitors and distant voices of medical staff echoing around you.

pain courses through every fiber of your being. the source of agony remains elusive. it's as though every inch of your body is engulfed in a relentless blaze of torment.

the remnants of a car crash flash in your mind—metal crunching, the tires shrieking, the overpowering impact. it's a puzzle with missing pieces, a story that seems disjointed and surreal.

with a heavy breath, you struggle to focus, to understand the gravity of your situation. tubes and wires snake from your body, tethering you to machines that are monitoring your every heartbeat and breath. your head feels heavy like a storm of confusion rages within it.

a face comes into view, a doctor jotting down notes on a clipboard. your parents stand behind her, concern etched across their faces.

"good morning, sweetie. i'm dr. chou. you've just woken up from a two-week coma," dr. chou explains. that would explain the dryness in your throat. "on a scale of one to ten, with one being no pain and ten being the worst, how bad is your pain right now?"

even in your dazed state, you don't need to think much about your answer. "ten," you rasp, the parched sensation in your throat intensifying.

"i'll give you some medication, but first i need to ask you a couple of questions," dr. chou informs you. "do you know your name?"

"yes, i'm y/n," you respond. your mother positions a cup of water by your lips to help you drink it, which you gulp down in a split second.

"good. you’re in the hospital near hybe university. now, do you remember what happened and how you ended up here?"

"not everything, but i do remember seeing a pair of bright lights and then waking up here," you explain to dr. chou. she proceeds to tell you that a drunk driver, a fellow student at the university, hit you. the driver was recklessly speeding late at night. thankfully, they were apprehended and would face the consequences.

dr. chou goes on to explain that yunjin located you when you didn't respond to her calls and texts. horrified by the sight, she immediately called for emergency assistance.

your heart aches at the thought of how yunjin must be feeling right now. you want to apologize, to express your gratitude, to tell her how thankful you are that she's your best friend. dr. chou tells you it's a miracle you're alive.

"how severe are my injuries?" you inquire of dr. chou.

"it's miraculous that your internal organs remained intact. however, your limbs bore the brunt of the impact," dr. chou begins. you gaze at your body and realize your arms are encased in casts, and one of your legs is too. you also feel a brace around your neck. hot tears well up as you take in the extent of the damage.

"i heard you're a tennis player at hybe university. that's quite an achievement. they say your team is the best in the nation," dr. chou begins softly. you can anticipate what's coming next. dr. chou takes a deep breath before continuing. "both of your arms were fractured during the accident, one from the car and the other from the impact with the ground."

the tears start to flow down your face. your chest feels heavy, and you're at a loss for how to process all of this. "your leg was also fractured, due to the collision."

"given these injuries, i can't provide an estimate of when you'll be able to get back on the court or if that will even be possible at all," dr. chou concludes, her voice carrying a gentleness, knowing that she just delivered the most devastating news.

sobs wrack your body. you're consumed by inconsolable grief. you can barely feel dr. chou's hand on your shoulder or hear her say, "i understand it's difficult now and it will continue to be for a while. just take it one day at a time." she looks at your family, your mother and father crying alongside you, "i'll step out now. just call if you need anything else."

the very essence of your existence, the labor you poured your soul into, had been mercilessly taken from you. it was a theft committed without showing even the slightest sign of remorse.

with tears blurring your vision and an agonizing weight engulfing your chest, you were left feeling like a hollow shell, drained of purpose and crushed by the weight of irreparable loss.

anger simmered within you. it was directed towards the world and the individual who had recklessly crashed into you on that particular night. however, your parents and teammates remained untouched by this anger. if anything, they became your anchors, keeping you steady through these trying times.

throughout your month-long confinement in the hospital, your teammates visited frequently. occasionally, coach yoo would accompany them. whether it was conveying their wishes for your swift recovery, bringing you your favorite snacks, or simply being a comforting presence, they stood by your side despite their own demanding training schedules.

the memory of yunjin's initial visit to your hospital room is still vivid. bursting into the room hours after receiving a text from your mother about your awakening, yunjin's presence remains etched in your mind. you recall her tears as she embraced you.

both of you find solace in each other's arms, tears flowing freely. the hug speaks softly, carrying murmurs of "i'm sorry" and "thank you."

when your teammates came to visit, they were aware of the sensitivity around discussing the sport. during their initial group visit, your parents had informed them about your situation beforehand, which led to tears from everyone.

particularly, chaewon chose to stay outside as the group entered your room, needing a moment to compose herself. she understood the significance of the sport to you, and its sudden absence affected her deeply as well. for a fleeting moment, she even contemplated not coming in at all.

that changed when kazuha went to find her and mentioned that you were looking for her.

as she stepped in, no words were necessary between the two of you. she sensed your pain, and you recognized that she was the one who could truly comprehend you. after all, she had been there from the start, witnessing your initial spark of passion for the game.

there was a time when she visited alone. your parents had gone home for a couple of days to attend to their careers and manage the house. you lay in bed, consumed by self-pity. the only yearning within you was to recover and step back onto the court, a dream that now felt as distant as the stars.

a knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. "come in," you murmured weakly.

chaewon entered, a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear with a heart bearing the words "get well soon" in her arms. "hi," she greeted softly, placing the items on a nearby table.

"how are you holding up?" her well-intentioned question fell flat as soon as it left her lips.

glaring at the wall, you struggled to maintain your composure. "i can't play anymore, chaewon." you paused, and the unspoken weight hung heavy in the air. "everything i've devoted my life to is gone." it took every ounce of strength to hold back the tide of emotions threatening to engulf you.

"don't hold it in," chaewon urged gently, her gaze steady on you. confusion mingled with your sadness as you met her eyes. "i know you're furious, and i know you're hurting. so why keep it inside?" concern lined her expression.

at her words, your defenses crumbled. it had been weeks since you awoke in this hospital room, a place you longed to escape from. throughout those endless days, you had attempted to come to terms with the harsh reality before you—a reality where the sport you cherished had been ripped unceremoniously from your grasp.

once the torrent of sobs subsided, silent tears continued to stream down your cheeks. chaewon reached for a napkin, gently wiping away your tears.

"everything i've worked for," your voice quivered, "it's gone." a hiccup interrupted your words. "torn away from me."

"i wake up each day in this hospital bed, trapped in a nightmare i can't escape. the pain is relentless, chaewon, and i can't even move without feeling like i'm being torn apart." anger began to lace your words, burning with frustration. “i let the team down. i let you down.”

chaewon listened, her focus unwaveringly fixed on you. she fought back her own tears, determined to stand strong beside you. if you were holding on, then she would find her strength as well.

chaewon's voice was soft but resolute. "you didn't let anyone down, y/n. and don't you dare think that for a second." she leaned in closer, placing her hand gently over your cast. "we're a team, remember? this isn't your fault, and you're not alone in this."

your gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, the weight of your shattered dreams pressing heavily upon you. "i know you're trying to help, chaewon. but it's hard to see beyond this pain, beyond the loss."

"i might not be able to fully understand what you're going through, but i want you to know that you have the wholehearted support of everyone on the team, including coach yoo," chaewon's voice carries a gentle reassurance. "fuck what the doctors are saying. if they're predicting that you'll never get back on the court, i have complete faith that you'll prove them wrong. we'll get through this one day at a time."

a sigh escaped your lips, a mixture of resignation and a sliver of hope. chaewon's presence was a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. "i'm just scared, chaewon. scared that i won't ever be able to play again, that i'll be stuck like this forever."

“right now, the most important thing is your recovery. we'll explore every option, every avenue to help you heal and get back on your feet. and when you're ready, when you're strong enough, we'll find a way to get you back on that court,” chaewon reassures you.

after that day, chaewon began visiting more frequently on her own. she was a constant source of reassurance, firm in her conviction that you had the strength to overcome this obstacle.

while the rest of your teammates tiptoed around the subject of the sport, chaewon had no reservations. she understood that you wanted to hear about it, knowing that it would fuel your determination to recover.

chaewon eagerly shared practice schedules for the upcoming international tennis tournament, providing detailed accounts of each player's performance. her descriptions were vivid, her words laced with hope for your swift return to the court. she informed you that she's back to playing singles after coach yoo rearranged the team formation.

the accident had occurred at the start of summer, granting you two months to begin the healing process. astonishingly, the hospital's physical therapists marveled at your rapid progress. although you were far from fully recovered, you had made enough strides to move an arm without enduring excruciating pain.

prior to leaving the hospital and heading back to your dorm, after numerous discussions with your parents, dr. chou advised you to consider your second year as a time for recovery. this involved concentrating on both physical and mental healing, as well as working on muscle strength.

while you felt disappointed and angry about the situation, you couldn't deny that she had a point. the reality was that you wouldn't be able to play a significant role on the team this year due to your condition.

by the grace of the universe, your fractured leg was the first bone to mend, given that the brunt of the impact had been absorbed by your arms. it was weak, leaving you reminiscent of a newborn deer attempting its first steps. still, you found consolation in the fact that the wheelchair stint lasted only a month, sparing you from a year-long predicament.

you quietly resolved to make yunjin's upcoming birthday special, a token of gratitude for the times she had pushed you around.

with chaewon's guidance and the support of your friends and teammates, you eased into your recovery year. while the ache of not being able to actively participate in the sport still lingered, you channeled your energy into healing and strengthening. physical therapy sessions became a daily ritual, and each small achievement felt like a victory.

you sat on the bleachers, watching the practice sessions until they wrapped up. the girls had been incredibly supportive and kind throughout your tough journey, and now you wanted to repay their kindness in any way possible.

your second year kicks off with a wonky right leg and arm. writing proves to be nearly impossible, your arm strength is almost nonexistent. walking is equally challenging, as you wobble with every step.

you rely heavily on yunjin, often feeling guilty and apologizing for needing her assistance. however, she consistently dismisses your concerns, assuring you that it isn't a burden and that she's more than happy to help.

you continue to watch the practices. on one occasion, yunjin calls kazuha over for something, leaving you and chaewon by yourselves.

"i hate to ask, but could you assist me in getting back to my dorm? just in case i accidentally fall into a bush," you joke, aiming for a lighthearted tone.

chaewon hesitates, clearly taken aback by your humor in the midst of the situation. then, she breaks into a grin. "absolutely."

it turns into a routine. you join yunjin for classes and practice, where coach yoo has now arranged a shaded area for you. the gesture warms your heart. following practice, chaewon accompanies you back to your dorm, as yunjin and kazuha always seem to have plans afterward.

during the walks back to your dorm, you and chaewon talk about everything and nothing. from the latest updates on your recovery - "how's your left arm coming along?" she inquires.

"it's making progress, not as bad as before, but it's still lagging behind my right," you pause for a beat. "i suppose you could say i'm all-right now," you say, attempting a lighthearted joke.

chaewon narrows her eyes, though a suppressed chuckle escapes. "if you say another joke like that, i might just push you into a bush myself,” she counters with feigned sternness.

to sharing life updates - "do you remember my little sister?" she asks.

"eunchae? the last time i saw her, she was still a baby," you respond, attempting to recall her face.

chaewon nods, a fond smile playing on her lips. "she's a teenager now. a pain in the ass, but i love her." you catch a glint in chaewon's eyes, brimming with affection and admiration.

"that's cute. did something happen with her?" you inquire, struggling to keep up with chaewon's pace. she slows down, matching your steps.

she hesitates for a moment, her gaze averted. "we were video calling the other day, and she asked if i was in a relationship." a hint of exasperation laces chaewon's voice. "teenagers these days are so nosy."

your heart sinks, a surprising wave of disappointment washing over you. why did you even want to know? "well… are you?" you find yourself asking, your curiosity getting the better of you.

chaewon's face flushes with color, her embarrassment evident. "am i what?"

"are you in a relationship?" you muster the courage to ask, your pulse quickening.

chaewon stammers slightly, caught off guard. "no, no. i've been too focused on preparing for the international competition."

you nod in understanding, masking the emotions swirling within you. as you both arrive at the steps of your dorm, you offer a casual, "that's good to know." with those parting words, you turn away, leaving chaewon behind in a state of mild bewilderment and flustered surprise.

while enjoying dinner with yunjin on a weekend without practice, you find a question crossing your mind.

"hey, jin," you begin, capturing her attention.

"what's up?" yunjin responds, her mouth full of food.

"i was wondering, if i were to ask chaewon out on a date, do you think she'd say yes?" you casually inquire.

yunjin chokes on her food, causing you to widen your eyes in alarm. you quickly stand and start patting her back firmly to help her stop coughing.

"holy shit! yunjin, breathe!" you exclaim, continuing to pat her back.

yunjin manages to catch her breath. "i'm fine, i'm fine."

"what was all that about?" you ask, still in shock from witnessing your best friend nearly die.

yunjin tries to calm down after her near-death experience. "it's just, after all our years of friendship, this is my first time hearing you talk about dates or anything close to it."

"so, should i ask her?" you genuinely ask.

yunjin wants to scream. “yes!”

later that night, while you’re in bed, you overhear yunjin on a phone call in the living room.

"zuha, you will not believe this. it's finally happening!" you had no idea what yunjin was talking about.

the qualifiers for the international tennis tournament are just a week away. with the team's departure for france coming soon, their training sessions are intensifying. naturally, you observe it all, your eyes often drawn to chaewon's skilled movements on the court.

you can't help but admire how flawlessly she executes the game. while she started out aggressively on the court during your first year, she has incorporated elements of your gameplay over time. her style has grown more precise and strategic, a testament to her adaptability.

as practice concludes, coach yoo gathers the team for an announcement. "alright, ladies. our flight to france is tomorrow. please ensure you have all the necessary documents. practice is over; you're all free to go."

"y/n, can you hold down the fort for us?" coach yoo whispers to you. you offer her a reassuring smile.

"of course, coach." you would miss witnessing the team's practices, but you understand they are embarking on something significant. there's a faint ache in your heart, the knowledge that you won't partake in the tournament you played a role in securing. yet, through your teammates, you're gradually healing from the emotional aftermath of the accident.

before you get too lost in your thoughts, a tap on your shoulder interrupts you. "ready to head back?" you glance up at the source of the voice, finding chaewon offering her hand to help you up. despite your weak grip, you accept her assistance and manage to rise to your feet.

as you walk home together, your fingers remain intertwined with hers. along the way, she updates you on her life, shares gossip about a girl in her major, and recounts the tale of a cat scratching her face and leaving a scar on her lip.

listening to her stories with your hand in hers, a realization dawns on you. this is it. she's your person—the one you'd willingly give your heart to.

as you reach the steps of your dorm, you take a good look at chaewon. the moonlight delicately traces her features, leaving you breathless. her eyes glisten in the night, putting all the stars in the sky to shame.

"y/n, are you okay?" chaewon questions, still holding onto your hand.

you draw a deep breath, gathering the courage you need. "when you come back from france," you begin, "and after you secure our university a spot in the actual international tournament by winning the qualifiers, go on a date with me."

chaewon stammers, "what?" she's thankful for the night concealing her blush, hoping you won't notice how her cheeks burn.

"go on a date with me, after you win, of course," you smile at her tenderly. "i like you. a lot."

chaewon's mouth hangs open, your hand clasping hers providing a sense of stability. she lightly slaps your right arm, knowing its fragile state. "you can't just say that the day before i leave for another country!" she shields her reddening face with her free hand.

a chuckle escapes you, and you release her hand, already missing its warmth. "good luck, superstar. you're going to do great," you convey sincerely. before you turn and make your way back into your dorm, you lean in and plant a swift peck on her cheek.

for the next five minutes, chaewon stands outside your dorm building, attempting to process the whirlwind of emotions that just transpired.

as you step into your dorm, you're greeted by yunjin, who's frantically packing for the upcoming tournament in france. you offer your assistance, but she insists you need to rest.

while you're getting ready to get into bed, yunjin comes into your room, disrupting the short moment of peace you were enjoying.

yunjin's voice cuts through the air, "can you please enlighten me as to why zuha just called me up, telling me that chaewon has been screaming into her pillow for the past ten minutes?"

the tennis team would be gone for two weeks. before yunjin's early morning departure, she entered your room, waking you from sleep and sharing a farewell hug. despite the irritation of being woken up at such an early hour, you understood the circumstances and hugged her back, offering your own words of luck.

over these two weeks, your phone is flooded with texts and pictures from the team, sharing their activities, tourist spots they visit, and their meals.

among them, chaewon's messages stand out. she doesn't bring up that night before her departure. instead, she provides updates on the opposing teams, your team's performance, and occasionally sends selfies of her trying on hats and quirky glasses from a tacky souvenir store.

you save each picture, creating a digital album of them all.

you yearned for complete healing, not just physically but also mentally. to achieve that, you knew you had to trace back to the roots of the problem.

on a bright and sunny afternoon, you dial your mother's number. with just a couple of rings, her voice comes through the phone, indicating her swift response.

“hi, honey. is something wrong?” your mother's concern is evident in her voice.

you chuckle at her quick worry. "can't i call my mom just to say hi?"

"you can, but you usually don’t, so forgive me for assuming," she responds with a playful tone.

you share a bit of small talk, catching up on each other's lives. eventually, you bring it up. "i've been considering switching personal coaches."

a momentary silence on your mother's end. "you're not satisfied with coach lim anymore? why?"

you proceed to explain your reasons: his toxic mindset, damaging ideologies, and dehumanizing treatment of his tennis players. while he may have imparted his knowledge of the sport to you, it pales in comparison to the emotional toll he's taken on both you and chaewon.

once you hang up, your mother wastes no time. she calls coach lim and informs him that his services are neither wanted nor needed anymore.

making the decision was undoubtedly difficult. you had been under that man's guidance since your early days in the sport. however, you understood that if you didn't break free sooner or later, the damage inflicted would only continue to grow.

during the two weeks that your team explored france, you found yourself back in dr. chou's office following a physical therapy session. your legs and arms had gained more strength, and the wobbling in your walk had diminished.

"y/n, how did the therapy session go?" dr. chou inquires with genuine concern in her voice.

"it was great, much better than the sessions right after the accident," you reply.

"that's wonderful to hear. how are you feeling?" dr. chou starts jotting down notes on her clipboard.

"i'm feeling significantly stronger. my walking is more stable now, and i've got a better grip with both hands," you honestly report.

dr. chou acknowledges your updates, her expression reflecting amazement. "i must admit, y/n, i've never witnessed such rapid recovery from such a severe accident."

in that moment, a glimmer of hope shines through.

"given the pace of your progress, i can project that you'll likely be back on the court around the middle of your third year if you continue with physical therapy and maintain your exercise regimen," dr. chou continues, offering more insights. however, your attention wavers, and tears quietly well up in your eyes.

following the agony and pain you faced from every single aspect, this present moment reveals the dream that seemed unattainable during your time in the hospital bed.

you waste no time in reaching out to your parents, eager to share the incredible development. their voices tremble with happiness over the phone, and your own emotions overflow, manifesting in tears of joy that you all share.

amid this heartfelt conversation, you make a silent decision to hold off on spreading the news to the team until their return from france, wanting to deliver it face-to-face when they return.

it’s 2 am and you're peacefully enveloped in the comfort of your warm bed, lost in deep slumber. the sudden buzzes from your phone jolt you awake, prompting a frustrated groan as you're reluctantly pulled from your restful sleep. with a reluctant glance at your phone, annoyance gives way to a rush of emotion. your heart quickens its pace, an involuntary fluttering as your lips curve into a widening smile.

text from: kim chaewon

you owe me a date

the team returns from france with victory under their belt. they've earned their place in the international collegiate tennis tournament set for two months down the road in the united states. when yunjin returns, you give her a massive hug, surprising her with your newfound strength.

amidst the tears of joy and celebration, you believe yunjin's tears might be because of the tournament win. but you're unaware that her tears are actually about you, about the slow return of strength to your once-broken arms.

you gather with the rest of the team as coach yoo calls everyone into a university room for an early morning meeting. it begins with rounds of congratulations, the team sharing tales of their time in france as both tourists and athletes in the tournament.

gradually, the atmosphere shifts to a more solemn tone as coach yoo delves into the rigorous training regimen to prepare for the upcoming international competition.

as the meeting draws to a close, coach yoo extends her gratitude to the team. "congratulations once again, ladies. while there's still a demanding journey ahead, we've come a long way and accomplished great things. let's continue pushing forward!" the room resonates with the team's spirited cheers, carried by coach yoo's motivating words.

"don't forget! victory party at my place tomorrow night," your captain, sakura, announces, eliciting even louder cheers from everyone.

"excuse me, coach," you speak softly, aiming not to disrupt the room's heightened atmosphere. all conversations halt, and all eyes turn to you, causing a twinge of embarrassment to sweep over you.

coach yoo's gaze fixes on you. "yes, y/n?"

"i'll be back on the court next year." the room falls so hushed that even the slightest sound could echo like a thunderclap. "my doctor confirmed it. she mentioned i'll be able to play again by the middle of my third year."

the following moments blur together, all you register are the joyful cheers and the flurry of hugs enveloping you. during the excitement, you catch sight of coach yoo's proud smile.

"jin, go ahead without me. i need to sort something out real quick," you inform your best friend while she gathers her belongings, getting ready to return to the dorm.

yunjin raises an eyebrow at you. "you could just say you want to talk with chaewon and go on a date with her. no need to lie," she says, rolling her eyes in amusement before waving you off.

"i think you owe me something," a voice chimes from behind you. you turn and find chaewon standing there.

with everyone else having already departed for their dorms or homes, the two of you are left alone. it's the first time you've spoken since her return from the tournament.

you don't reply. instead, you step closer, drawing her into a warm embrace. you hope she senses the depth of your emotions that words often fall short of expressing: happiness that she's back, relief that you could play again, and the overall joy you have for the entire team.

"i missed you," you murmur into the curve of her neck. heat rises to chaewon's face, and you can almost feel her heart beating against your own.

"stop being cheesy, it's just been two weeks," she retorts, yet her actions betray her words as she pulls you into a tighter embrace.

you let go of her and extend your arm towards her, offering your hand to hold. “let’s go on a date, shall we?” she gives your shoulder a light punch before taking your hand.

you invested a significant amount of time brainstorming the ideal date concept for chaewon. you wanted something more exciting than a regular dinner but not overly grand, knowing chaewon would've hated that. the thought of a sunset picnic on a hill with a beautiful view under a shady tree came to mind and felt just right.

"you're not kidnapping me and taking me to the middle of nowhere just to kill me, right?" chaewon jests from the passenger seat of yunjin's car, generously lent for the occasion.

"don't start giving me ideas," you quip, your focus on the road. one hand is on the steering wheel while the other rests between you and chaewon, your fingers intertwined with hers. you feel her tracing gentle patterns on the back of your hand.

the remainder of the drive to your destination passes in silence, the simple pleasure of each other's company and the music filling the car. upon arrival, you park and move to open the trunk, retrieving the picnic essentials: a basket, a blanket, and a bouquet of flowers.

"here." you extend the flowers to chaewon as you both make yourselves comfortable on the blanket.

her eyebrow arches slightly. "and what's the occasion?"

"well, it's a date, isn't it?" you offer your reasoning with a playful grin. your words elicit a warm laugh from her, a sound that adds to the enchantment of the moment.

under the sheltering branches of a towering oak tree, you and chaewon find your secluded haven. the air is filled with a soft, balmy breeze that carries the scent of blooming flowers. the golden hues of the sunset cascade over the landscape.

the sky is a canvas painted with warm shades of pink, orange, and lavender, creating a breathtaking backdrop for your picnic. the fading sunlight casts a gentle glow over chaewon's features, highlighting the subtle flush on her cheeks. her eyes sparkle with a mixture of excitement and contentment, mirroring the serene beauty of the scene before you.

as you both share bites of food, your laughter mingles with the soothing rustle of leaves overhead. playful banter dances between you, accompanied by shared smiles. with each passing moment, the cares of the world seem to fade away, leaving only the company of each other and the beauty of the present.

the moon has ascended high in the sky, and the picnic basket now sits empty beside you. both you and chaewon lean against a tree, your head finding a comfortable resting place on her shoulder.

"don't you think it's crazy?" chaewon's voice pierces the quiet around you.

"what?" you respond.

chaewon lapses into silence for a moment. "just everything, really. i mean, our journey. we started out under that... monster, our childhoods and youth stripped away."

"now, we're with coach yoo. i can't even begin to describe how much happier i am under her guidance. she's made me fall even more in love with the sport," chaewon admits, her words brimming with admiration.

you share the sentiment wholeheartedly. coach yoo is the antithesis of coach lim—equally ambitious and disciplined but also kind and empathetic. she views her athletes as individuals, not mere machines.

"don't tell me you have a crush on coach yoo now," you tease, provoking a laugh from her.

"please, don't be ridiculous. i'm just grateful," chaewon counters. you echo her sentiment. "you know, i never actually hated you."

lifting your head from her shoulder, you turn to fully face her. "where's this coming from?"

"just something i wanted to say. i've realized that while i've said hurtful things to you before, i don't think i truly meant them," chaewon confesses. "i think my own hurt and resentment towards coach lim made me misdirect my frustrations onto you."

"i think i can relate," you admit, your voice carrying a weight of shared experience. "he used to constantly compare me to you, and it cut deep. i thought i was harboring anger towards you, but it was him who fueled my anger and resentment, not you," you confess.

the two of you are now facing each other, still seated on the blanket. chaewon reaches for your hands, her touch both comforting and affirming. "i'm proud of us," she says, her gaze intense as she looks into your eyes. "we've come so far, and we've managed to heal from his influence." her voice is resolute.

with a tender gesture, she cups your cheek, her thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that had escaped your notice. "i'm especially proud of you," she continues, sincerity evident in her words. "you not only survived a car accident but also managed to recover in record time. you could have given up, but you didn't."

her touch and words hold a deep sense of reassurance. "you've made it this far, y/n. you've overcome challenges that most people would have simply given up on."

"thank you," you whisper, your voice carrying a mix of gratitude and emotion. you lean in, placing your forehead gently against hers, savoring this almost cinematic moment between the two of you.

beneath the soft moonlight, chaewon's voice barely reaches you. "i can't just say that i like you too," she starts, and you open your eyes, surprise evident on your face.

her hands still cradle your cheeks with a delicate touch, her thumbs gently brushing against your skin. "this feeling inside me goes beyond that," she continues, her voice carrying a sense of sincerity that resonates within you.

then, in a whisper barely louder than the rustling leaves, she confesses, "i love you, y/n."

"when i'm with you like this, it feels like everything's in the right place. like all the things i've been through were worth it, just to be with you.” chaewon pauses, seeking an answer in your eyes.

your heart's a jumble of emotions. you're on an emotional rollercoaster, uncertain where to land.

in the middle of the swirling sea of emotions within you, one truth shines like a guiding star: it’s her, only her.

“i thought you hated corny stuff,” you joke quietly, earning a soft chuckle from her.

her fingers graze your cheek, her touch feather-light yet electrifying. "i might hate corny stuff," she murmurs, her voice a mere whisper, "but i love you." and with that, her lips meet yours in a kiss that carries all the warmth, fondness, and hidden desires that have been swirling between you both.

her lips, soft and inviting, meld against yours with seamless grace—perfectly fitting against yours as if they were destined to be there. as your kiss deepens, you're aware of her hands gently shifting from your face to your neck, a subtle yet powerful gesture that speaks of her desire to draw you even closer to her. with each press, a spark of warmth ignites within you, spreading like wildfire through your veins.

you gently rest your hands on the sides of her waist, bridging the nonexistent gap between you two. your fingers trace along her sides, eliciting a soft sigh from her.

your senses intensify, capturing every detail: the subtle taste of her lingering lip balm, the synchronized rhythm of your heartbeats, and the gentle graze of her fingers against the nape of your neck.

you both ease back, the need for air breaking the connection, but your foreheads remain gently pressed together. "i love you too," you confess, witnessing a burden being lifted from chaewon's shoulders.

tears gather in chaewon's eyes. "good," she murmurs, then lets out a laugh infused with happiness.

a short silence envelops you before she breaks it. "you know, yunjin and kazuha made a bet on when we'd finally admit it to each other."

the following day, the two of you arrive at sakura's house hand in hand, your fingers interlaced. your teammates exchange knowing glances among themselves, a silent understanding passing between them. you make a mental note to address that curiosity on a different occasion.

coach yoo graces the victory party with her presence before things become too lively. just before she departs, she approaches both of you with a sly smile. "so, who said it first?"

you and chaewon share a puzzled glance, a momentary confusion crossing your features. nevertheless, you respond, "technically, i admitted that i liked her first, but she said 'i love you' first."

as the words hang in the air, a mixture of groans and cheers erupts from your teammates, their reactions varying from exasperation to celebration.

"i told you all y/n would confess first!" coach yoo announces triumphantly to the team.

you're left speechless, realizing even your coach had placed bets on you and chaewon. coach yoo departs with a knowing smile and a few extra dollars in her pocket.

you step away from chaewon to give her some time to socialize, and you join yunjin to catch up. after a warm hug with yunjin, you make your way upstairs to the balcony, seeking a breath of fresh air. the view from the balcony showcases the campus, its close proximity to the university apparent.

you gaze at the tennis courts in the distance, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. so much has unfolded, and though the future remains uncertain, you're not overly concerned.

your affection for the sport endures, but you've come to understand that your identity encompasses more than just your skill in a sport. with the support of your teammates, chaewon, and your family, you've embraced this realization.

you're pulled from your thoughts by the sensation of arms gently encircling your waist, and a chin resting on your shoulder.

"hey," chaewon whispers, her voice tickling your ear. "what are you doing up here? i missed you."

turning to face her, you lay your hands on top of hers. "just needed some fresh air. didn't know you'd be this clingy," you tease.

"shut up," she retorts, nestling her head against your neck.

a chuckle escapes you as you pull her into a tighter embrace. "the international tennis championship is coming up in a few months. you'll win, right?" you ask playfully, avoiding putting any more pressure on her.

but chaewon is chaewon, never one to shy away from a challenge. "of course, i will," she replies, drawing back to meet your gaze. "and our third year is approaching. you'll be back on the court, better than ever, won't you?" her tone matches the one you used earlier.

confidence brims in your response. "absolutely."

while your recovery is ongoing, you're farther along than anyone expected. with chaewon beside you, you have full assurance in your ability to conquer any challenges that lie ahead.

the seeds of resentment and bitterness that once existed have now blossomed into a garden of genuine love and admiration.

"i love you," chaewon declares, planting a gentle kiss on your lips. "so much."

"and here you were always giving me a hard time for being cheesy," you retort with a grin.

she playfully nudges you away, but you maintain your grip on her hips. "whatever.”

laughter rings out. this is it, the feeling that no trophy or title can match.

"i love you so much more, chaewon."

additional notes: could this have been done with fewer words? yes. but am i insane? also yes. in all seriousness, this is quite a long piece. if you’ve made it this far and read it all, i can’t begin to express how grateful i am that you gave my work a chance. i wanted to bring this fic to life just as i envisioned, which is why the word count might seem hefty for a one-shot. please let me know what you think by either leaving a comment or sending your thoughts through an ask! can y’all tell i never got over izone? did anyone notice the twice cameos? i just want to clarify that coach lim is not nayeon! thank you one again for reading!

#le sserafim x reader #kim chaewon x reader #chaewon x reader #chaewon imagines #chaewon scenarios #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim #le sserafim scenarios #kim chaewon #le sserafim chaewon #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #blue’s pieces

818 notes · View notes