#head swimming coach

[g0ldmedal]

How To Run A Swim Club

Let me state first; I do not run a swim club. When I was head coach, I was not a voting member on the board of directors so I did not run the club. I was paid by the club as an employee or self employed. However I’ve been in and around clubs my entire life. And that’s getting to be a pretty long time now as grey starts to overtake any areas requiring a shave down for high performance masters…

[demoniccrowz]

CHAT I JUST WON AT SWIM SHARKS AND MINNOWS TWICE I AM LOSING MY MIND

@blue-the-gay-king

[peterhill75]

Sunderland New Year Meet 24

The team of #teamlarne athletes that headed to England for the Sunderland New year meet. A great experience and some fast swimming by all. Well done to everyone..

A small group of junior athletes headed to Sunderland this weekend for their 1st ‘overseas’ trip and their 1st racing of 2024. This level 1 meet (same as Irish level 3) is a great opportunity for these guys to be exposed to something new and gain valuable experience at the start of their swimming career. Day 1 A great start to the meet with Annabella knocking over 2 seconds off her 200 free…

[jaylver]

AGAINST THE TIDES — P.SH

SYNOPSIS: Growing up, you’ve only had one best friend that you would call your family. Park Sunghoon. He was your partner in crime, your best friend, your ride or die, he was everything. You and him did almost anything and everything together, practically attached to the hip, and that included swimming too. As years passed, you and him both turned out to be outstanding swimmers that had a promising career ahead. All was well until one unforgettable day that broke your lifelong friendship, turning it into anger and hatred instead. With the Olympics coming up, you had unexpected news about Sunghoon joining your team. Worst of all, you had to work alongside him for the mixed medley relay event. One dream, one goal, a childhood wish you and him shared, will that be successfully achieved when you and him could barely bear standing next to each other?

PAIRINGS: pro-swimmer!sunghoon x pro-swimmer!afab!reader

GENRE: childhood friends to enemies to lovers, sports au, angst, romance, slow burn, forced proximity

WARNING(S): mentions of drinking/alcohol, profanities, (lots of) miscommunication

WC: 28k

PLAYLIST: suburban legends by taylor swift, heartburn by wafia

AUTHOR'S NOTE: after 4 months of not posting, i've vomited out 28k for y'all! i hope you guys will like this one and do forgive me for my lack of swimming knowledge helpp, i tried with my years of swimming! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver 2024 all rights reserved

Was it possible to wake up from a dream that happened to be your reality?

Standing in the national aquatics training centre, the swimming pool where you've practically resided was glistening under the bright lights. Contrary to them, you were anything but bright, a sudden dread befalling your expressions.

Coming into your first day of the three months long and last training before the Olympics, you were anticipating for it to be a peaceful, fun day that would end with your muscles aching. However, the moment you stepped onto the training ground, being the first to reach, your coach had already decided to break a rather dreadful news. 

"Come on, Y/N, it's nothing too bad," Jeon Jungkook, your young coach that retired early from competing and also the reason for your countless success, was trying his best to reassure you. It wasn't working.

"Not 'too bad'? Being in the same national team with him is already a sight for sore eyes to me. Now you're telling me I have to train with him under you? Together?" 

Your coach was rubbing the side of his head, the early morning and the shrillness of your voice wasn't a favourable pairing to him. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but if it wasn't for Yeonjun's sudden injury, he wouldn't have to be replaced for the mixed relay," 

"Well, if only he didn't get drunk and fell off his bike," you muttered under your breath, never once taking account that this would be the consequences you were suffering from his actions. That was until this moment. 

There came a sigh coming from Jungkook, his arms were crossed and he was resting his weight on one leg. "I know you and him don't get along, but I've discussed this with Coach Kim and we thought that if I replaced Yeonjun with him, it's the best decision. Plus, both of you are Olympic medallists, having two star swimmers in a team isn't all that bad,"

You were silent, stubbornly keeping quiet at the fact that you knew he was right. Of course he was, he's been your coach for years, he has his ways of choosing his words correctly when it comes to you. He knew of your drive to win, the hunger to win gold and nothing else. With a cold, hard fact that Jungkook had slapped onto your face, you had no choice but to consider and forcefully accept.

"You two have history together. Years of history. There's chemistry whether or not you like it. Period," Jungkook waved his arms around, smiling at you as if trying his best to make you feel better. "There's one thing you can't deny. Winning. When there's winners, you mix them together, then what do you get? Medals,

"So, I'm begging you, Y/N. Put up with Park Sunghoon for a few months, another few rounds at the Olympics, then we're done, he'll be back at Coach Kim. Alright?"

"But—"

"End of discussion. Go change up, I'm sure the others will be here soon, including Sunghoon, so you better not throw a tantrum," he pointed his finger at you, wagging it at you accusingly to which you responded with a discreet eye roll.

"Yes, coach."

Even in the locker, you found yourself mulling about at the thought of training with Park Sunghoon again. That name itself has sent you waves of chills countless times.

Park Sunghoon was your childhood friend. Having been your neighbour since birth, your mothers were naturally the reason why you were even friends in the first place. You were barely five when your mother placed you in the local swim club for training, then not long after, Sunghoon joined too.

Your lives mainly revolved around two things. Swimming and each other. Basically, you and him were inseparable. You shared the same coach as him even after entering your teen years. Whether it was the swim club or the youth national team, there was nothing anyone could do to separate you and him in terms of swimming or every aspect in general. Hell, you and him both specialised in the same stroke as well, breaking out into the scene to be the best prospects, earning a reputation for yourselves swiftly. Your friendship itself was known by all too. 'Star swimmers', that was what people called you and Sunghoon.

That was until a particular Wednesday in 2018 that made your nearly sixteen years of friendship with him crumble into ashes. 

"I'm switching coaches. I'm switching clubs." 

You remembered it clearly. It was just after nine o'clock at night when you were done showering, ready to leave and head home with Sunghoon. Yet, his words echoed in the silence of the training centre then.

"What?"

"I just don't think it's working out,"

"Sunghoon—" you never once called his full name unless it was a serious situation, "the Youth Olympic games is literally in a week. What are you even saying?"

"I don't want to lose anymore, Y/N. Do you know it feels like working my body till the point of breaking just for me to get beaten by someone better. I need to get better," his composure was breaking, you could tell, the clenched fists by his side was turning white. 

Your eyes widened at the tone of his voice, but your frown only deepened at his words, nothing was making sense to you. "You're jeopardising the team!"

"I've discussed this with the coaches, I've got permission from the higher ups," 

"You're … you're selfish," you said slowly, unable to speak any longer at the shock of his sudden news. "You never bothered to discuss this with me either,"

"I don't need to,"

"So, you're disregarding our friendship altogether? We promised to tell each other everything!"

"Oh, grow up, Y/N. We were six when we said that, this is different. We're different now,"

In that split second was when a hard realisation hit you. He changed. It was almost as if the person that he once was had died overnight, revealing someone new that shared the same physical traits. Was it the results of the last competition you had days ago that made him turn into this? You never knew him losing would've affected him this badly. That was one thing about Sunghoon, he was never outspoken about his feelings and thoughts.

"You're right. You're no longer the person I know."

That was the last time you ever had a conversation with him face-to-face. The change was drastic. One day he was walking home with you and the next he wasn't even in your life, barely acknowledging each other at competitions. It was legendary, but it was momentary. To say it has taken a toll on you was an understatement. If it wasn't for your mother's consolation, you wouldn't have shown up for training and eventually won at the Youth's game.

Six years. Six, long miserable years of ignoring each other.

The year you were called up to the senior national team was the same year that he did too. It was evident that there was tension between you and him, there was no need for a second look for someone to determine that. You knew rumours were bound to fly, it has been ever since your split with him.

You hate to admit that what he did was right too. Since the day he changed coaches and clubs, he has been improving and climbing higher. Gold was the only colour hanging around his neck at almost every competition he was in. Maybe you were the selfish one after all, secretly wishing he never left in the first place because you were scared of losing him. Well, who knew the fear in that moment turned into your instant reality? Seeing his success only made you bite back on your words of calling him selfish.

The first Olympics you attended in Tokyo was an experience to say the least. Winning two silver and one bronze, your hunger for gold only grew bigger. Everyone in the team had expected either you or Sunghoon to bring back the gold medal, but none of you did, and by then, there was an unspoken rivalry that started from the moment people placed their expectations on you and him.

Three years later in the present day, you couldn't believe he was becoming your teammate and training under the same coach again. Crazy how things could change in a blink of an eye, huh? Your main concern, however, wasn't facing Sunghoon, but whether or not he'd fit into the relay team with only three months of training and no prior experience.

"Well, if it isn't the Y/N L/N being the first to arrive as always," The sound of your teammates' heavy footsteps entered the locker room, Yujin's voice in particular echoed through it, entering your sight at once. "How have you been?"

"Great, been living and sleeping in the pool," you snickered sarcastically, patting Yujin's back in greeting. "I heard you took a long break from your club after the championships,"

"I did, and my muscles are dying to touch the water,"

"She caused a lot of ruckus at the club for that," Yunjin joined into the conversation after setting her bags down, nudging her club and national teammate. "I'm glad we're all back, three months and then Paris, isn't that a dream?"

"It definitely is. I can't wait for the Eiffel tower," Yujin smiled with a dazed look, you and Yunjin only exchanged a silent glance at one another.

"Not the gold medal?"

"That too,"

"I see where your priorities lie," 

"Whatever," she waved her hand at your response, reaching for her swimsuit. "Anyway, did you hear the news from coach?"

"I did," you wrapped your towel tighter around your body, the cold prickling at your skin now that you were in your swimsuit. 

"You don't seem very happy," Yunjin pointed out as she changed into her swimwear, it was then when you became aware of the frown on your face. "The guys are excited,"

"I'm trying to be happy," you grumbled. At this point, there was no hiding the previous history you had with him, almost everyone knew about you and him, the star athletes since teen years had suddenly stopped interacting, obviously that would catch people's eyes and turn into gossip.

"Didn't you have some … fallout with him before?" 

"You know about it?" 

"Y/N, I hate to say it but the whole nation's swimmers are probably aware of it," Yujin walked up to you and passed your goggles to you. "Word spreads fast even during the youth training camps, but I'm sure there's a reason behind your fall out with him, we won't pry,"

"I'm a little curious though," Yunjin added, throwing her towel around her shoulder, unaware of Yujin's pointed glare at her bluntness.

"It's quite petty really, I'm surprised you never heard it from any of my club teammates," you pressed your lips into a thin line, shifting your stance uneasily. "He wanted to leave the club before a big competition, I mean, I get where he's coming from, but I was hurt that he didn't tell me beforehand. I thought it was unfair, we were friends for so long. We said some hurtful things to each other, and things were never the same after," your heart unknowingly tightened at your inner thoughts about the whole fight, telling the story years after made you reflect on it with regret. 

"Do you forgive him?"

"If it meant having my best friend back, I would, but I don't know if he feels the same as I do."

Walking out of the locker room took a huge amount of courage and strength for you to not turn around running. The thought of seeing and interacting with Sunghoon pained you to a great level. Not because you hated him, but mainly the awkwardness and tension that was hard to rid. 

You saw the rest of your teammates by the pool, Anton and Juyeon were too engaged in their conversations to realise Yunjin running up to them with her arms wide open. "Boys!" She engulfed the three men in her arms, startling them and almost had them falling back into the pool. 

"Gosh, you're never going to stop doing that, aren't you?" Anton patted Yunjin's arm, smiling at his senior as she let go. 

"Never," 

The two men greeted Yujin first before turning their attention to you, straightening their spines and giving you a salute. "Y/N,"

"Hey guys, doing good?" You gave each of their shoulders a pat in greeting, receiving firm nods from them as a response. They took the chance to immediately bombard you with questions about your practices and competitions, sharing their own stories about what they were up to as well.

"Y/N, I heard someone's going to snatch your spot in the mixed relay," Anton, the backstroke swimmer and your mixed relay teammate, was referring to Sunghoon's addition to the team. Your endless worries about Sunghoon becoming your teammate had you forgetting about the thing you should actually be worrying about: your position.

"Like hell Y/N is going to give up her spot easily," Yujin came to your defence with her arms thrown around your shoulder. "Isn't that right?" She turned her head to look at you, poking your cheek with a finger.

"What I'm saying is, Y/N could potentially fill in for Yeonjun's spot too. She's also a breaststroke specialist and Sunghoon's last win in the championship was him breaking the world record for freestyle. I'm just saying maybe—just maybe—this combo would be something exciting,"

Yujin, the butterfly swimmer in the mixed relay team, frowned slightly at his argument, though debatable, she didn't seem to think the idea as fit. "The second leg is usually swam by men, it'd be a disadvantage to have a woman swim it. Based off the statistics, it'd be a shit show of a strategy,"

"I'm afraid she's right," you shrugged, heaving a deep sigh at the struggle your team was facing before training even started. "There's no way coach would do that,"

"Then is Sunghoon supposed to really swim the second leg?"

"Duh, who else? He got picked specifically, out of many other people, to replace Yeonjun, I'm sure there's a reason behind it," Yujin gave your shoulder a light squeeze. "Not to mention, he's got a reputation for being a good breaststroker too,"

"Right, he got second place in Tokyo, didn't he? Just like you did, Y/N," Anton's gaze landed on your rather sullen face, the memories of Tokyo where you found out you won the same amount of medals in the same categories as Sunghoon came flying back into your mind. 

The thought of it was laughable, how were you still telepathically connected with him from then up until this moment. It was your childhood with him to blame at the end of the day. You were the one to influence him and made him fall in love with your two favourite strokes: freestyle and breaststroke. Who knew you would land yourself in a position where you potentially had to fight him for your position? 

"Y/N will always be our freestyle master in the last leg, okay? No competitions needed. Our first training together will speak for itself," Yujin glanced at you briefly, checking up on you after your momentary silence. You gave her a smile, reaching for her hand that sat on your shoulder. 

Soon after, the distant sound of your coach's voice slowly became louder as he approached closer. He was talking to someone, the second voice obviously belonged to the person everyone was waiting for, the addition of a star swimmer into the team instantly raised your teammates' expectations and hopes. Everyone else in the room were giving each other knowing glances at the anticipation of Sunghoon's arrival—except for you. 

You were holding your breath, mentally counting down the seconds while the footsteps of your coach and the person who was once your best friend were nearing. Every one of you instinctively lined up in a row as always, awaiting Coach Jeon's arrival. 

You didn't dare to blink. Lo and behold, Park Sunghoon entered the room with your coach by his side, the strong presence of an Olympic medallist and world championship winner filled the room. It was hard to deny that his presence alone was influential. 

"Morning, everyone. As you may know, we'll be having a new addition—or replacement—to the team. Everyone please welcome Sunghoon," 

Following his words, there were enthusiastic claps with a sprinkle of shouts from the guys. Sunghoon was trying his best to keep up with the overwhelming atmosphere from his new teammates, most of which were familiar faces considering they were all from the national team, the only difference was the coaches they train under. That was until now. 

You were standing to the far left, furthest away from the center where Sunghoon was. Were you a coward for avoiding him? That was partially the truth, but all those years of ignoring one another, brushing past each other at every national and international competitions, you weren't the only one at fault. He was also a coward that claimed he was a lion. 

Jungkook patted Sunghoon's back in encouragement, giving the latter a push for him to introduce himself. "Nice to meet everyone, I'm Park Sunghoon. It's my first time training with you all, so I'm apologising in advance if there's any mistakes made on my part. I hope we'll be able to get along well and bring home some gold medals from Paris,"

The team erupted in passionate cheers and applause from Sunghoon's self-introduction. It was clear everyone shared the same goal: a gold medal at the Olympics. 

"Alright, so I think everyone already somewhat knows each other, am I correct?" Jungkook looked between Sunghoon and his group of swimmers, both of which nodded and responded with a chorus of 'yes'. "How about a fresh introduction? A friendly way to warm up to one another," 

'Friendly' was one way to put it and he was definitely directing it at you.

Juyeon, who stood on the furthest to the right, started his introduction first. "I'm Lee Juyeon, butterfly swimmer, we met at the youth championship before,"

"Right, we did, nice to see you again, man," Sunghoon and Intak shared a firm handshake before moving onto Anton. The introductions were all brief, but there were also friendly gestures exchanged. Not long after, you were the last and only one left to introduce yourself.

If you could describe the exact moment Sunghoon met your eyes for the first time in nearly six years, it would be suffocating, and it was in the worst way possible. The warmth and familiarity that was once in those brown irises happened to be gone and lost with him when he saw you. You didn't know how to react, just seeing the hostility and coldness from him that you wished wasn't real was enough to beat you down.

"I'm Y/N L/N. I hope we can win a medal together in the mixed relay," you stayed rooted to your spot stubbornly, not bothering to exchange at least a handshake with him unlike your teammates. It seemed he reciprocated your feelings.

His stoic expression never once faltered, but it was his eyes that spoke louder than words needed to. Amongst the coldness of his gaze, there was an unmistakable shock and longing that he hid well enough for you to not fully catch onto. "I hope so too."

Ignoring the weird tension that lingered around the room between you and Sunghoon, you started your usual routine off along with your teammates. Long hours and many laps of endless swimming was about to be your reality again. The worst part of all was the strength training that was yet to start. 

The excruciating nine hours of never ending swimming soon ended around the evening and your first day was finally done. Neither you nor Sunghoon crossed paths or interacted, maintaining your bliss and ignorance that would bring you peace. 

"Are you just going to ignore him until his last day?" Yunjin was drying her hair, staring at you with an accusatory gaze. 

"Yeah, I guess?" You shrugged, packing up your bag that you slung over your shoulder, flashing Yunjin an indifferent smile. 

"I don't think that's a great idea, Y/N. We still have the mixed relay to consider, there's no way you could just go radio silence on him when it's a team event," Yujin made her way into the changing room from the shower just in time to listen in on your conversation, seemingly disapproving at you and Sunghoon's behaviour towards one another. 

"What am I going to do? He doesn't even want to acknowledge me,"

"How about you try making the first move?"

"Over my dead body," you murmured, hating the fact that you and Sunghoon's past conflicts were stagnating the team, yet your ego was not ready to confront him. Nope, never. 

"You're so stubborn," Yujin grumbled, shaking her head in disapproval. "He's equally stubborn. God, I can't believe I have to put up with these hot-headed, stubborn people, give me strength, please,"

"It'll be fine. As long as I keep my distance and he keeps his distance, nothing will go wrong," you slapped Yujin on her back, earning a doubtful look from her that you responded with an earful smile. 

"I highly doubt that," Yunjin chimed in, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder, ready to leave as well. Yujin turned to share a knowing look with her.

"Me too."

All you could do was roll your eyes, not daring to respond because you knew, too, that you couldn't fully promise that you'd stick to your words. It was impossible to predict what would happen in the next few days, let alone three months. The non-existent interactions with Sunghoon for six years couldn't prepare you for what he was like currently, and for that reason, you were scared. 

That night, alone in your bed, you couldn't take your eyes off the picture frame sitting on your dressing table. It was a picture of you and Sunghoon at the ripe age of thirteen, holding onto your gold medals with the biggest smiles right after a competition. Who would've known in a few years time since then, you wouldn't even be able to stand next to him. 

How you wished those childish smiles would make its way back to you and Sunghoon, standing next to each other with a gold medal again.

A week has passed since the day Sunghoon first started his training under your coach. 

Safe to say, you kept your distance from him and so did he. Neither of you managed to exchange a single word or a single glance that lasted more than a second. It might've been a natural occurrence for you to have some sort of 'cold war' with Sunghoon, but to the others, they felt a little awkward having to be part of it.

For the second week of training, the part that you enjoyed most became dreadful to you. The mixed relay training was inevitable with Sunghoon's presence as a first timer to the group. More practices were implemented by Coach Jeon in order for Sunghoon to adapt and grow familiar with the general rules around mixed relay medley. 

"Doing good?" Anton was the second to arrive after you, standing next to you by the pool. He had probably noticed you staring into the pool, letting your thoughts drift away.

You snapped out of your daze, blinking in surprise at him until you realise who you were talking to. "Wh–yeah, I'm fine,"

"You're not nervous for our first training together as a team, right?" He attempted to lighten the mood, bumping your shoulder with his. 

"No," you scoffed. That was a lie. You were nervous, and masking it up wasn't exactly a great way to deal with it. "It's just any other training,"

"Be honest, you were probably mad when you heard about Yeonjun's stupid accident, weren't you?" Anton took a seat on the starting block, staring up at you with a pair of big doe eyes. 

"Mad? Not exactly. Maybe annoyed? Concerned? A little bit of everything," you frowned, remembering the message sent in the group chat the week before training started. 'Can't turn up to training, fell down my bike and broke my ankle' it was unforgettable. "Why?"

"I'm just a little disappointed it's not Yeonjun swimming the second leg. He's one of the strongest breaststroke swimmers,"

"Weren't you excited about Sunghoon's arrival?"

"Well, it's a no brainer I'm excited, Sunghoon's a great swimmer, but he's not exactly Yeonjun. Thinking about how sudden everything is, the changes and having to adapt to them, I'm just worried it'll affect the team's performance,"

Your gaze softened at the younger boy's truthful confession. If you had to be completely honest, you were worried about the team's future performances as well. Having so little time to adjust and letting a replacement take up a crucial swimmer's role was bound to cause doubts. 

"We'll be fine," your voice was firm with determination. "The future's unpredictable anyway. Who knows what will be the result of this lineup?" 

"Do you know how great of a motivational speaker you are?" Anton smiled at your words, the worries that filled his eyes were blinked away. "Also, what's up with you and Sunghoon? Are you guys always like … this?" He proceeded to make some gestures with his hands.

Here it is. That topic. 

The real question should be: when were you never like this with Sunghoon?

You shrugged, directly lying to his face a second time. "It's complicated. Let's start our warm up, shall we?"

That was enough to divert Anton's attention away from the question he originally brought up, successfully dodging it until the others arrived and started their warm ups as well. Yujin, in particular, was overwhelmed with excitement to start her part of the relay, hoping to beat her own personal record.

"Were you always this excited for training?" You looked at Yujin with an eyebrow raised, watching as she stretched her limbs carefully, a cheery expression on her face. 

"I think my break made me realise how much I missed the water," she kneeled down to touch the surface of the pool water with her finger, a little habit of hers before competitions that she grew to have. 

"How's the temperature?"

She stood back up, straightened her spine, a wide grin spreading onto her lips. "Absolutely perfect."

Once the warm ups were officially concluded, Yunjin and Intak were sent to other lanes in the pool to start their individual training, whereas you and your remaining teammates were listening intently to the coach's every word.

"So, we start our first practice today. Together, as a team, a new team. Let's see what's the time recorded for each leg, improve the handoffs and perfect your individual time. Anton, you'll go first,"

Anton fixed his swim cap right after that, walking towards the starting block while the team dispersed to wait for their turn. You stood beside Yujin, Sunghoon only inches before you. It was hard concentrating on Anton and his start, barely registering the sound of the whistle blowing. He was so magnetic it was almost obnoxious.

"Hey, new guy! Got the rules down?" Yujin directed her words at Sunghoon, catching him off guard. He turned around, an impassive expression was his first response to Yujin. His eyes flickered to you for a split second, quick enough for you to barely catch onto it.

"I have," he answered shortly, seemingly frozen from Yujin putting him into a spot out of the blue. 

Before returning his focus back onto the pool ahead of him, he stole a haste glance at you for the second time. It was barely a second's worth of his eyes on you, not even an acknowledgement. You couldn't explain it. Why were you ticked off by him? 

"Sunghoon, get ready!" Coach Jeon shouted from the other side of the room, glancing between his stopwatch and the pool. Sunghoon stood on the starting block, fixing his goggles in place. "Now!"

The moment Anton's fingers grazed the pool's wall, Sunghoon dived into the pool perfectly, all eyes were fixed on him now. The swimmer that created history, broken records, set a standard for new generations of swimmers, was proving why he was labelled a national treasure.

He was quick. How was that even possible? Breaststroke was one of the slowest strokes in swimming and yet he made it seem as though it was the easiest to swim. Yujin was next, her excitement was apparent in her swim and aggression. The butterfly stroke and her perfect posture had her resembling a mermaid. 

It was your turn to stand on the starting block, preparing for the exact second Yujin finished her lap. Your heart was beating against your chest, adrenaline was suddenly coursing through your veins. The time was ticking, Yujin was coming closer, and with one touch to the wall, off you went into the pool, the cold water engulfing you whole.

The first inhale of air filled your lungs to its maximum capacity. You could feel a sense of buzzing on the tip of your fingers, the muscles of your legs were working to its limits. You felt great. 

Your flip turn was quick and perfect. Everything was going right for you. The way your legs and arms were working in sync, your breathing technique had improved, all of these being factors to your best swim yet. The stopwatch was halted once your tips touched the wall, finally getting the chance to get your head out of the water and breathe deeply.

"54 seconds!" Coach Jeon called out, a satisfactory grin plastered on his face. "Good job," he clapped his hands, throwing up a thumbs up at both you and your teammates. “Get a short rest, I’ll be with the others then we’ll resume our training together,”

A chorus of ‘yes, coach’ travelled through you and your teammates, all of you watched as he walked to the other side of the pool where the others were training, then breathed a collective sigh of relief. Yujin came forward to help you out of the pool, wrapping a towel around you while patting your back.

"Good swim,"

You smiled at her, placing your hand on her waist. "You had a good swim too,"

"What a swim, L/N!" Anton, who stood next to Sunghoon, yelled at you as you and Yujin approached. You snorted at his enthusiasm, giving him a thumbs up in response. The man to his left, however, remained impassive just as his face displayed almost to no emotions regarding your performance. Not that you needed his validation anyway. You met his eyes, his unwavering stare bore into you, it was as if everyone was awaiting for his comments. 

"You didn’t swim at your best,"

His words were as cold as his voice, piercing into your heart without a space for you to recover or register what he meant. What did he mean? There was a sudden edge to the atmosphere around the group, a thick air of tension surrounded you and him in particular. “What?” There was no need for him to repeat what he just said, but it was almost unbelievable as an alien invasion to you.

“You weren’t swimming at your best,” Sunghoon repeated firmly, his stoicness never once faltering. Your dignity, on the other hand, was withering. 

“Who are you to determine whether or not I’m swimming at my best?” You took a step forward, your footstep heavy on the ground. He stayed rooted to his spot, chin held high while your narrowing gaze pierced through his skull.

There was a pause where a momentary silence filled the air. Neither you nor the rest of your teammates dared to speak. The man before you was expressionless, it was nearly hard to read him or his thoughts, only seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest, whereas yours was in a frenzy.“I know you,”

He might as well have just shot you in the face. Those three words were as hard as bullets were, causing you to almost lose your footing and tumble over, but somehow, you managed to stand your ground. Out of the many things he could’ve said, this was the least you expected. You had wished he would’ve lied and insulted you rather than speaking the inevitable truth. Frankly, it was the same for you. 

“You know nothing about me,” you seethed out, nostrils flaring out of indignation. 

Sunghoon scoffed, turning his head to a side for a second before looking back at you, a fire lighting up in those cold eyes of his, melting into a fiery pit of rage. “You can cuss me out or insult me all you want, but the biggest insult you could ever throw at me is disregarding our past. I know you, it’s simple as that, and I can tell you’re not swimming to your fullest,”

You couldn’t form an immediate response, because you were stunned and stuck in an endless cycle of thoughts, thinking if what he said was actually true. What if … you truly weren’t swimming at your best? Were you holding back? The only thing you could bear to thank Sunghoon now was for feeding into your self doubts.

“You…you—”

“Okay, cut it out guys,” Anton came to stand between you and Sunghoon, shielding your line of sight and you felt an odd sense of relief that Sunghoon couldn’t see your crumbling state. There was no way in hell you were turning vulnerable right in front of him, nor were you going to lose the fight to him. Knowing how stubborn either of you were, if Anton hadn’t cut into it, you might’ve been there for longer. “Quit fighting, I swear. I know there’s tension—hell, I can feel it—but can you two at least act like you can tolerate each other? If you two act like this even in Paris, what will the press write?”

Anton was right, he was always right. You hated how you’ve allowed your emotions and past consumed you when it came to Sunghoon. The person who was once your strength had turned into your weakness, your flaw. Everything had been fine until it came to him, it has been so ever since six years back. Now, you were reliving it all over again.

“I’m going to get some air,” Sunghoon announced, sparing one last glance at you before turning his heel to leave, the water from his body left wet footprints on the floor.

Yujin and Anton turned to look at you, the unmistakable look of shock on their faces. They were seemingly as helpless as you were, but they were more likely experiencing much worse being stuck in the middle of you and Sunghoon. “I’m sorry … for that. I’ll go for a dip in the pool.”

They watched as you made your way back to the starting block and in the next second, you had already jumped into the pool, starting another lap again. Yujin and Anton stared at one another, matching frowns etched onto their worried faces. There was a wordless exchange as if something had clicked in their minds from just one knowing look.

“We need to find a way to get them to reconcile.”

One month into training and there was nothing that could be done to make the two star swimmers return to a civil relationship. In fact, the space between you and Sunghoon had only grown bigger ever since the small rift that made everything go from bad to worse.

It had gone to a point where Coach Jeon had to give both of you a lecture, almost begging you and Sunghoon to work together for those few short months. To him, it might’ve truly been a ‘few short months’, but to you? It was a hellish period of time to be reckoned with.

You could tell everyone was trying to push you and him together, but you and him were just like magnets with the same poles, repelling each other no matter how much effort was put into getting you and him close. There was once when your teammates had strategized to purposefully have you and Sunghoon sitting side-by-side, yet to their surprise, your hatred for one another gave you ways to make any efforts fail. For that dinner, each of your chairs were pulled far enough to create an obvious distance, not one glance was even spared between you and him.

Then came a Saturday, a weekend off for the team and an opportunity for everyone to go out for drinks. It was the perfect time to let go and relax for a short moment, but to your teammates, it just so happened to be a perfect setting for their plan: get Sunghoon and Y/N to diffuse their hatred.

“Why is everyone always at my place when we get ready to go out?” you grumbled, picking up your dirty clothes that were scattered on the floor to make way for Yunjin and Yujin, their hands full with clothes and makeup.

“It’s a tradition now,” Yujin pressed a kiss on your cheek, laughing at your unimpressed frown. “It’s a once in a blue moon type of thing! We should make the most out of tonight, we don’t know when we’ll have another day off after this,”

“That’s right,” Yunjin said, placing her dress onto your bed, next to yours that was laid carefully to avoid wrinkles. “It’s time to drink till we break.”

That wasn’t exactly how you wished your night to go. You and the girls met up with the guys at the entrance to the club, having to squeeze your way in and hold onto each other tightly to not lose your way. It reminded you why you never had an active nightlife apart from the routine you had as an athlete. The club reeked of alcohol, sweat, smoke and many other things, none of them were good.

The moment you got to settle into the booth, you finally got a clear view of everyone. You, Yunjin and Yujin were dressed in almost matching tight dresses, the only difference was the colour, the length and the existence of shoulder straps. Anton and Juyeon were sporting collared shirts, while Sunghoon wore a black button down shirt, his hair gelled up to reveal his forehead.

There was no mistaking his straying eyes, but he wasn’t the only one, you were equally guilty. You tried to reason it with the excuse of pure curiosity, yet you found yourself stealing more than one glance. By then, you knew it wasn’t something you could easily deny.

Juyeon leaned his body against the table with a serious expression that he had whenever he set the rules for the night every time you had a night out. “Okay, so the rules for tonight, no leaving on your own, unless you send a text. No going overboard until you do crazy shit that will get your name on the headline,” he paused, scanning the group. “Lastly, no becoming Yeonjun and break your bones,”

There was a chorus of snorts and laughter at the slight dig at Yeonjun. It was a joke, but the chances of it happening wasn’t entirely zero. “Got it!” 

The group soon dispersed, some were headed straight to the bar, some were off to the dance floor and some had stayed in the booth. You and Yujin had stuck together, sitting on the high stool at the bar, heads propped onto your hand as you stared at each other. There was a wordless breath of a sigh between you and her, it seemed that neither of you needed to verbally communicate to know what the other was thinking. You held your shot glass up to clink against hers, and at the same time, you downed the shot down with Yujin. 

The feeling of the alcohol burning your throat was something you didn’t miss, yet it was what you needed at that moment. “That was good,” you muttered, hearing Yujin’s laugh as a response to your comment. “If I wasn’t an athlete whose health gets scrutinised, I would be drinking at every minor inconvenience,”

“You’d be an alcoholic at that point,” Yujin shook her head, a faint smile adoring her sharp features. “Why? Is the pressure getting to you?”

“Not exactly. I don’t think about those things, I never do,” you watched as the bartender filled your and Yujin’s shot glasses once more. “I’m thinking about Sunghoon,”

Yujin straightened up at that, her body leaned close to yours, an inquisitive raise of her eyebrow met your eyes. “Sunghoon? You? Thinking about Sunghoon?”

“Not about him per se, but you know—us—our past, it’s affecting the team and I hate it. I hate that I can’t do anything about it,”

“You can? You can just make things even with him,”

“Easier said than done. We can’t see eye to eye. I mean, do you think it’s easy to befriend your ex best friend that you had beef with?”

“Well…no,”

“Exactly,” you said, followed by downing another shot out of your glass. “It’s hard to even speak to him without him glaring at me, how am I supposed to go: ‘hey, let’s be BFFs again’,”

“But don’t you want to try and mend things? At least end the bad blood,”

You stared at your shot glass, your fingers grazing against the mouth of the cup, a sad smile making its way to your lips. “I wish I could, but I’m afraid the damage is worse than I had imagined.”

Drowning your sadness in shots after shots was an equation for disaster, and that was exactly what you had done. Excuse the liver damage, your current concern was your emotions that were bound to spill out of its seams. An emotional drunk, that was what you were as depressing as it sounds. The thought of Sunghoon and your ruined friendship was the cherry on top to it all.

“He hates me!” you slurred, your face buried in your hands after four shots of tequila. “I don’t even know how it turned out like this … how it turned into this,”

“Y/N, you’re drunk,” Yujin moved your shot glass further from your reaching hands, causing you to frown deeper at that. “No more, okay? You’ll regret it in the morning,”

“I’m used to regretting things, just leave me be,” you pouted at Yujin, but she was firm and final in her decision in cutting you off alcohol for the night. “Sunghoon…” you murmured before the alcohol fully set in and your head collapsed onto the table, absolutely blacking out.

“Oh God.”

Yujin returned to the booth with you slumped against her. She thought the amount of weight training she had endured was finally worth it for having to put up with your drunk self. The rest of your teammates had returned to the booth, empty cups were littered around the table, the only sober ones there were Yunjin and Sunghoon, who was trying to peel Anton away from his body. He glanced up in time to see Yujin approaching with you being supported by her.  

Yunjin stood up and rushed to Yujin’s side to help her with you. “Is she okay? I’ve never seen her this drunk,”

“I should be asking the same about Anton and Juyeon,” Yunjin nodded at the two who were slumped against each other, eyes closed and probably drifting to some dreamland where a head splitting morning would soon await them in the morning. 

“They’re also a lost cause,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Let’s get going,”

It was a miracle that Yunjin, Yujin and Sunghoon had successfully carried you and the other two out of the club. The process, however, didn’t matter and was forbidden to speak about, what mattered most was the success of getting the three of you. 

“I’ll call a cab for us four, we live in the same apartment complex,” Yunjin looked over at a struggling Yujin trying her best to prevent Anton and Juyeon from falling over while they leaned against each other. You were basically the calmest out of them, sleeping soundly. “Will it be okay for you to bring Y/N home? I know it’s too much to ask—”

“I’ll bring her home. It’s not too much, don’t worry,” Sunghoon reassured, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. “W–what’s her address?” it never occurred to Sunghoon that, one day, he would not know where you lived, that you were no longer the girl that lived next to his house. The girl that had once taken over his life was no longer a part of it. That, to him, was a tough pill to swallow.

“I’ll send it to you in a second, I’m almost done booking the cab,” Yunjin was feverishly tapping her screen, her eyebrows knitted together. “You drove here, right?”

“I did,”

“Smart decision,” she muttered, finalising her booking with one last tap. “The cab’s arriving in ten minutes and I just sent her address to you. Don’t worry about us, it isn’t our first time, we know how to deal with them. Get her home safe, and you, get home safe too,”

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Sunghoon asked once more, casting a worried glance over at the two men who couldn’t even keep their balance sitting up. 

“Better than okay. Now, go get her home, we’ll be fine.”

Sunghoon drove his car to the front of the club, and with the help of your two friends, you were loaded into the passenger seat with ease. By then, you were half awake from your sleep, the unfamiliar settings causing you to become much alert. You sat up from the seat a little too quick, an honest mistake which brought a throb to your head. 

“Just sleep, it’ll hurt less,” 

That voice. How and why was it so close to you? Whose car were you in? Could it be …?

“Sunghoon?”

You blinked hard, trying to get rid of the haziness and the blur in your vision. It didn’t need a second thought for you to know it’s Sunghoon. From his voice to his outline, even the midst of it all, you could always recognize the boy you knew your whole life. 

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m just trying to help,” he replied flatly, keeping his eyes ahead. 

“I thought you’d rather die than help me,”

“Well, that’s what you think. You’re not always right,” 

You didn’t say anything after, letting a curtain of silence fall over, it was better for you and him. You could barely keep your eyes open, the heaviness of your head only made you feel much nauseous than before. It was more ironic how the reason you drown yourself in alcohol was sitting next to you, driving you home with no single trace of alcohol in his blood unlike you. Maybe you were the pathetic one here.

The drive back to your place was quiet, the faint music from his radio was playing to fill the awkwardness between you two. How did it even get to this point in the first place? You wished you knew. Sunghoon’s car eventually came to a stop right by the entrance of your apartment complex, the silence somehow only grew thicker now that the car has stopped moving. 

“We’re here,” Sunghoon announced the obvious, attempting to cut through the silence with something rather than nothing. “Do you need me to walk you up?”

“I’ll be fine on my own,”

“You don’t really look fine,”

“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, and thanks for the ride home. I’ll see you at training,” you reached for the handle, pulling it and opening the door, one foot already out, but the other lost its footing and you stumbled, a hand gripping onto your forearm was what prevented you from falling face first into the hard road. Sunghoon yanked you back into the passenger seat, and you were too surprised to utter another word. Damn it. 

“You’re clearly not fine on your own. Let me walk you up,” he said with a finality in his voice. You knew there was no way for you to reject his offer now that you had embarrassed yourself while you tried proving your point. “You’re still not good at walking in heels after all these years, huh?”

“What—”

He had slammed his side of the door into your face and your unfinished response. You didn’t have the time to process everything when Sunghoon appeared by you in a split second, your door was opened and he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. It was irritating and extremely annoying to you how he was practically almost impossible to read around you. You knew him too well, and that was probably the reason why he increased his guard when it came to you.

“Hold onto me,” he extended his arm, and you couldn’t explain why, but your heart rate was increasing with every passing second. His head tilted slightly at your hesitance, a minor frown decorated his features at your reaction. “What is it?”

“Oh—nothing,” you shook your nerves off. Since when were you ever scared of Sunghoon? Let alone be nervous around him. You might’ve not been friends but it doesn’t make him any scarier. In that light, in that moment, you got a glimpse of the Sunghoon you knew years ago. That was what made you freeze up.

You placed your hand on his forearm, using him for support as you got out of his car, the piercing pain in your foot caused you to wince. You’re still not good at walking in heels after all these years, huh? Why must he always be right about you? “What is it?” he noticed your discomfort, worry flashing across his face for a moment. 

“It’s nothing, just my heels—”

“Sit back,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back into the passenger seat. He took one glance at you, there was an unmistakable mix of emotions in his eyes, but then he was out of your sight, opening the door of his backseat to get something. 

Once he was back, he knelt on one knee in front of you, not a single word was exchanged, but you followed his every movement. He had a pair of shoes in his hand, it was only a beat later when he stared up at you, meeting your curious eyes. “When are you going to stop pushing me away and pretend it’s nothing when you need help?”

Sunghoon reached for your leg, unbuckling your heels in a swift motion, his touch was soft and he was gentle with you in every way. The shock from earlier till now had only caused you to sober up quicker, but the haziness in your head made you wonder if this was just a dream. He was right in front of you, swapping your heels for a comfortable pair of shoes, helping you into them as you watched wordlessly.

“There. Feel better now?” Sunghoon stood up, holding onto your heels in one hand. Truthfully, you didn't know what to say to him, merely nodding in response. He breathed out a rather loud sigh, extending his arm out to you once more, and you immediately got the cue to hold onto him just like before.

Your first step out onto the ground was heaven in those comfortable shoes. They were large and awkward for you, but they were miles better than your heels. “Just hold onto me. I know you probably can't walk straight now,”

You bit back a remark to that, wanting to prove him wrong but you figured it'd be another stupid idea of yours. Holding onto his forearm just like before, you walked quietly with him by your side. You were unconsciously leaning your side onto him, the realisation might’ve not hit you, but it did for him. This was the closest you’ve been since six years ago, physically and emotionally. 

The silence was painful leading up to the moment you opened your front door, hoping to bid him a hasty goodbye, just for you to almost stumble over your own two feet once more, proving his point was right all over again. Sunghoon didn’t complain when he helped you out of his shoes, he didn’t say anything even when he guided you into your bedroom where you crashed out once your head hit the pillow. How was that possible? That was what Sunghoon thought upon seeing your sleeping figure.

“Sunghoon,” he nearly jumped at the sound of your voice that was muffled by your face being pressed into your bedsheets. Your eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed with a slight frown as if there were many thoughts swarming your drunken mind. He didn’t dare to speak or make another move, waiting for what you would say next with an unsteady breath. You shifted in your sleep, your hand seemingly balling into a fist. “I’m sorry,” the words were hardly audible, yet in the silence of the night and the heat of it all, it was the loudest and clearest to Sunghoon, they were the only thing buzzing in his ears along with the sound of his heartbeat.

A faint smile that he hasn’t worn around you in ages made its way to his face. Although Sunghoon knew you would most likely have forgotten about this and have zero recollection of uttering the words ‘I’m sorry’ when morning comes, there was still a sense of assurance that the chances of reconciling weren’t completely zero. He breathed out a small sigh, realising he had to go back to pretending he hadn’t heard your confession, having to act cold to one another as if it wasn’t killing him internally. Were you feeling the same as he did?

Sunghoon tucked you into your blanket, casting one last glance at you sleeping soundly before turning his back to you, taking big steps to your bedroom door just for him to stop in his tracks at the glint of your photo frames. He knew he shouldn’t pry, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance. It was his first mistake, his curiosity had led him to the childhood pictures of you and him. You still had them after everything you went through with him. There was a lump in his throat, the sting in his eyes became much more prominent, a cluster of emotions were weighing down on him.

“I’m sorry too.”

“Is it me … or is the mutual hating tension becoming awkward now?”

All of your teammates were huddled in a group, observing you and Sunghoon being forced to listen to your coach’s lecture for the hundredth time. It was the first training after your short weekend break, and that night alone has changed everything. Neither you nor him were at each other's throats anymore, there was no malice in the air or animosity, but there was still a striking tension that made everyone around you and him feel uncomfortable. 

“What even happened that night?” Juyeon crossed his arms, frowning a little at the zero to none recollection of what happened that night all thanks to his reckless drinking.

“Nothing much,” Yunjin said, her eyebrows raising at the sight of you and Sunghoon, choosing to keep your worries about him a secret. 

Yujin coughed, displaying a deadpan expression. “What Juyeon probably meant was, what happened after? He sent her home, didn’t he?”

“He did, but I didn’t hear what happened after,”

“They’re acting like they’ve fucked or something,”

“Anton!” the group averted their eyes at Anton, who seemed to have shrunk under the sharp glares sent by his teammates. 

“What really happened after?”

If you were to receive at least a dollar for the times your coach has reprimanded you and Sunghoon, you would’ve quit swimming and be a millionaire. This instance was the same as before where he called you and Sunghoon out on your lack of chemistry. He wasn’t entirely wrong, and you could understand how it might affect the overall team chemistry, but what could you do? Make the first move? Insane.

“Guys, I know I’ve said this before, but you’ve got to at least talk a little,” Coach Jeon let out a sigh, rubbing the sides of his head with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Everyone with eyes can tell you do not wish to be associated with each other or stand next to each other—” his eyes were trained on the distance between you and Sunghoon. Upon realisation, the both of you took a step closer to each other, but it was not enough to mend it.

“Just try. Don’t give the national team or yourselves bad press, alright?” Coach Jeon’s face was laced with genuine concern and worry. Given how long your relationship has been affecting the team, your coach’s worries only increased. “Look, either try to be on friendly terms before the Olympics or I’ll make it happen,” the latter sounded almost like a threat from the tone of his voice, sending chills down each of your spines. “Dismissed.”

The moment your coach was out of ear shot, you turned to look at Sunghoon, narrowing your gaze accusingly at him. “Did you hear him? We’ve got to at least try speaking—” before you could manage to finish your sentence, Sunghoon scoffed and turned on his heels to leave the room.

You, on the other hand, were entirely dumbfounded by his sheer audacity. Was him helping you out that night merely a front that he kept up? He had transformed a total 180 compared to his previous attitude, this was not the same man who left you water and aspirin by your bed. “Asshole!” you shouted out at him as he made his way out, turning to leave from the other door to avoid following him.

The rest of your teammates that were huddled in a group still had their eyes fixated on the drama unfolding before them, most of which were shaking their heads in disapproval, some wandering eyes were trained on either one of your backs before disappearing completely behind the doors. Yunjin exchanged a brief glance with Yujin, a light bulb on the top of her head turning on.

“I’ve got a way to get them to fix things up.”

The sun was soon setting as the evening came to an imminent end. You were the last to shower, being the only one left in the locker room, the sound of your locker door slamming shut echoed throughout the room. You took a seat on the bench, leaning your head against the lockers, a frustrated groan escaped your lips. You were annoyed, agitated at how Sunghoon had actively ignored you. Why was he acting like a total stranger to you? The least he could’ve done was spare some acknowledgement. Was he as cruel as you made him out to be?

You were pulled out of your deep thoughts the second you heard voices coming from the outside of the door. There was no way anyone would be catching you getting emotional over Sunghoon—except for Yunjin—once was already enough, you blamed it on the influence of the alcohol. The voices only got louder as it came closer. There was a man’s voice, but also a woman, or actually, it sounded more like a group as you walked to the door, straining your ear to listen in on the commotion outside.

Before you could get any closer, the door flung open, causing you to take a step back in shock, mouth agape. The person being pushed into the locker room was no one other than the manifestation of your thoughts: Park Sunghoon. Just as quick as he was pushed in, the door slammed shut and there was a sound of the door locking. 

“Sort your shit out and we’ll let you out in a few hours! Sorry!”

“What?” 

“What?”

You and Sunghoon yelled out simultaneously, absolutely incredulous this was befalling on you. Sunghoon, who happened to be unfortunate enough to be pushed into the locker room that you were alone in. This wasn’t a coincidence, it was a strategic plan your teammates brewed up. The realisation clicked once you locked eyes with him, the adrenaline soon died down and the usual awkward tension returned. 

The pettiness from earlier had you turning your back on him, storming towards the bench where you were sitting before your peace was ruined. Slow and hesitant footsteps followed you from behind, the heaviness of your breathing filled the air and you soon stopped in your tracks, the footsteps followed short. You turned around fast enough for you to have a whiplash, the man in front of you had kept a distance between you and him, the unspoken emotions were visible in the way he looked at you.

“Are we ever going to stop this?” the words had left his mouth before you could even form a proper thought, that alone was able to break down everything you had prepared to say beforehand. 

“Stop—what?”

“This! Us!” he gestured between you and him, the distance was already proof of your coldness to one another. “Are we going to continue pretending everything is alright when it’s not?” 

“You seriously have the nerve to say that after ignoring me for years, so yes, everything is fine! It’s the way it’s supposed to be,”

“You were ignoring me too!”

“I mean, you hate me, we can’t stand each other, isn’t that what everything is meant to be like?”

“‘I hate you’? Since when have I hated you?” Sunghoon scoffed, nostrils flaring, frown lines deepening. 

“Ever since our first competition after you transferred clubs. We stopped talking, you never bothered to look me in the eyes and brushed past me as if I was a stranger! I thought I could try apologising, but since then, all I could see in your eyes was anger,” your breath was shaky, the memories of your best friend becoming someone you couldn’t recognise was painful to relive. “You never told me your plans to leave, but you know what? I thought we were best friends…”

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, he opened his mouth to speak just for him to close it again, jaw clenched with a tense gaze. “I thought it was the right choice. I knew you would’ve said no if I had told you earlier, so I chose not to. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I suppose my judgments were wrong. I was a coward,” he paused, his eyes scanning every micro expression you made. “I never hated you. How could I ever? I was angry at myself. Seeing you…I was frustrated that I had let you go so easily. I thought you didn’t wish to reconcile after you ignored me, I didn’t know it was the opposite,”

You were still unresponsive, your pupils were shaking just as your breath began to waver. Sunghoon tried his best to muster the faintest of a soft smile, his knuckles were soon turning white from how hard he was balling his fists. “I’m sorry for saying those things that night. I shouldn’t have disregarded our friendship over something so stupid. I’m sorry, Y/N,”

With every blink, your eyes only stung from the tears building up. His confession as a whole made your heart twist, the overwhelming truth was eating you up from within. The explanation from him that you craved and yearned from years was finally here, but instead of feeling angry and wanting to punch him in the face like you’ve always thought you would, you were the total opposite of that.

Tears were streaming down your face before you could fully comprehend you were crying. The lump in your throat was preventing you from speaking, a choke sob escaped and that wasn’t helping your case at all. “Fuck,” you cursed, feeling the heat creeping up to your face from embarrassment and you immediately buried your face into your hands.

“Hey,” Sunghoon took large strides to get to you. You felt the warmth of his presence, the gentle touch of his hands that were on your arms, trying to pry them away from shielding your face. In that moment, you let yourself fall victim to him and his touch, feeling as if you had travelled back in time to when you first lost and Sunghoon was comforting you. “Hey, look at me,” your eyes flitted up to meet his gaze, recognising the familiarity in them that you’ve missed. 

“What are you crying for?” his thumb brushed against your skin, wiping the downpour of tears. 

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon, I’m truly sorry. I feel stupid, I shouldn’t have expected you to read minds, I shouldn’t have blamed you for everything—”

“Hey,” he said once more, pulling your attention back onto him. “It’s alright. The both of us made mistakes, we were both in the wrong, none of us could blame the other. I know where you’re coming from, I understand,”

You blinked your tears away, breathing in deeply to stop yourself from crying yet again. “I wished we could’ve done this earlier. I wished I could’ve been less consumed by my anger. I lost many years without you, and most of all, I missed you,”

There was a twitch to the corners of Sunghoon’s lips, his hold on your hand became slightly tighter, and in a blink of an eye, he tugged you into his chest, engulfing you into a hug. You’ve missed this feeling, yet it felt completely new to you. “I missed you too. I’m sorry for being such a stuck up asshole to you all the time,”

You snorted, smiling faintly against his hold. “You better be sorry. You’re forgiven,”

“You’re forgiven too.”

Six years. That was how long you’ve lost with each other. The amounts of competitions won, achievements and important events missed could no longer be replaced. But that day, in that locker room, you got a new chance at rebuilding the moments you’ve lost in those six years, and you got a new beginning to build memories, even legacies, together that lasted for centuries.

Waking up to a message from Sunghoon on a Saturday morning was the last thing you’d expect. 

Sure, you had made up with him not long before this, rather forcefully so, and you were glad it went well because you were done with your years of miscommunications with him, but after all, the wound was still fresh, the awkwardness and unfamiliarity was there between the both of you. You couldn’t really speak to him without silence eventually following with nothing to say, nor could he keep a conversation with you fully either. 

In your eyes, he looked like the person you knew for your whole life, physically unchanged, but at that moment, you didn’t know what he was actually like anymore, whether he would laugh at the same joke you made or if he’d have the habit of repeating some words as he used to, all of those became a mystery to you. It hurts you to know you’ve built a distance from him, causing the person you understood so well becoming someone you’re barely associated with.

Unknown number: this is Y/N, right? it’s Sunghoon. do you have time today?

You: hey, it’s Y/N. i do have time, i’m free for the whole day. why do you ask?

Sunghoon: i’m going home today, back to our hometown, i’m wondering if you’d like to come along? it’s okay if you decline though.

You: no, actually i’d like to come with you if you don’t mind. thanks for asking me. 

Sunghoon: i’ll be at your house in an hour, eat something light, let’s get breakfast at our usual place.

Going back to the place that practically raised you along with the person that had been by your side since the start and growing up together with you was something you’d never once thought was possible in those six years apart, that was until now. It was a miracle that he’d willingly invited you to join him, and as much as you were relieved, you were also nervous, way too anxious for your own good.

For at least fifteen minutes after answering his texts, you paced back and forth in your apartment, conflicted about what to wear, the things you should bring, and even preparing what you could say to him once you saw him. This was a big step for not only you, but also him. It was a bandage that would heal the wounds caused by your dispute, a potential chance to restart the friendship and get closer to one another.  

Seeing his car brought you back to the night he drove you home. An embarrassing realisation that you had was Sunghoon had to see you in your drunken state that couldn't keep yourself balanced on two feet. You disregarded that memory and entered his car, greeting him a good morning like you've grown to do at training.

“Hungry?” 

“I'm alright, just had some bread,”

“Great. It'll be an hour drive and we'll stop by our favourite restaurant, how does that sound?”

“I'm excited. I haven't been back in months,”

“Well, I think you'd like the new set they added in the menu.”

He remembered what you liked and hated? The biggest shock was realising he still ate at your favourite restaurant, taking note of an addition to the menu that he'd think you'd like. Did that mean he's kept you in his head even before your reconciliation?

Everything was confusing to you. He was confusing to you. It was absolutely frustrating. You shook off that feeling and stared out of the window, noting some landmarks that you remembered. It was the same route you'd take every time you went back to your hometown as well. You wondered how many times you've happened to cross paths on this route with Sunghoon in the past. 

By taking advantage of the silence in the car, you decided to ask Sunghoon a question that's been eating you alive ever since you received his message. “Why did you suddenly decide to go back at this time?”

Sunghoon didn't expect you to cut through the silence, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes upon the read ahead. He hummed thoughtfully, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“To be honest, I've thought about it for quite some time already. I wanted to have a small getaway while being able to see my parents before going to Paris,” he paused for some time, the faint music coming from the radio played in the background. “It's something that I do before major competitions. Visiting the old pool and seeing everyone again really calms me down a lot. I just thought it'll be a great opportunity to bring you along now…” now that we're somewhat friends again. That was probably what he wanted to say after judging from his hesitance. 

“I never knew you went back so often,” you muttered, frowning at the fact that this was another thing that you failed to learn about Sunghoon. It was also another evidence of how your friendship was, in fact, in the ditch for a long period of time where you practically had zero idea of what the other was doing.

He maintained his focus on the road ahead, but you could see a small, ever so slightly of a smile forming on his face. At least you knew he was getting comfortable enough to not keep such a stoic expression around you like before. “It's not that often. I will try to do it as much as I can, but it's hard. You know, my mum would ask your mum about you all the time, she just hides it from me,”

You snorted at that, yet internally, you felt touched at Mrs Park's concern for you even when you and her son stopped being friends. It was hard to avoid her whenever you went home considering she lived in the house next to your family. Not that you had ill intentions to dodge her, but seeing her after what went down, you didn't have the courage to face her. Mrs Park was relentless to say the least, she'd always find her way to speak to you no matter what, and sometimes, you could see how sorry she was from her eyes alone.

“I'm sure my mum does the same too and she just never tells me.”

The journey there didn’t take long with several conversations here and there with Sunghoon, the small talks lasted longer than how it usually would, and that alone was saying something. There were some laughs shared together, in the midst of the moment, you couldn’t help letting your gaze on his smile linger for more than a second. It was the first few times you got to see Sunghoon letting himself go around you just like old times. 

Sunghoon wasn’t kidding when he mentioned the first stop would be your favourite restaurant. It was surprising to see the restaurant again after almost a year of not dropping by. The times you went back to your hometown was to visit your parents only, there were barely any second thoughts about stopping to visit your favourite spots. Maybe it was also because you were scared to relive the best memories you had with Sunghoon and the only way was to avoid the places you created unforgettable moments with him.

“I haven’t been here in forever,” you looked around at the unchanging interior of the restaurant, the walls were decorated with simple paintings and a picture of you and Sunghoon together with the restaurant owner. Beside that picture was another one that caught your eye instantly. Squinting, you realised that it was Sunghoon with the owner in more recent years, most likely a year ago. He really did come back to visit much more consistently than you, especially to the places you grew up going to together. “Is that you in the picture?”

Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, turning to follow your line of sight and realisation dawned on his face at the picture that was next to the old one of you and him. “Oh—that, yeah it is. It was taken a year ago. I only started coming back here last year. I was surprised she recognised me after all those years. It was quite awkward when she asked me about you though,”

“I can imagine,” you cringed at the image of people asking either one of you about the other, you've been so close since forever where everyone assumed you and him came in pairs. “I didn’t think you’d come back here,” 

“Why not?”

“Doesn’t it remind you too much of us?”

Sunghoon smiled at that, a hint of curiosity sparked in your eyes at his reaction. “That’s the reason why I came back actually … regardless of what happened,”

You could sense some sadness in his voice when he said that despite wearing an unwavering smile. There was an odd feeling in your heart knowing that you were wrong all along. Sunghoon never hated you, not even once. In fact, he missed you just as much as you did, or more judging from what he'd said. Was it relief, regret or sadness that you felt?

“Should we order?” he noticed the solemness settling in your face, taking the initiative to change the subject and divert your attention away from your thoughts. “How about we order our usual?”

“Do you still remember mine?”

“I do. I'd never forget anything about you.”

Every part of you was filled with nostalgia once you tasted the food you grew up eating. It was a shame your fear clouded you from coming back to the restaurant, you've missed it more than you expected. However, it was probably the best choice that you made unknowingly. It wouldn't have felt the same without Sunghoon. Eating the same food with the same person that you had done so years ago proved that you would've missed his presence if he wasn't there.

“You two are going to the Olympics next month, right?” the restaurant owner, Mrs Kim, came by your table to check up on you and Sunghoon, who answered her question with a short 'yes'. She turned to you, and it was then you realised how much older she's gotten over the years of not seeing her. Time really has slipped through your fingers. “I haven't seen you in years. I was really happy to see you winning in the last Olympics,”

You bowed your head slightly, smiling at the fact that she remembered you even though you practically disappeared for a long period of time. “Thank you. I really wished I got the time to stop by too,”

“It's okay, you're probably busy, aren't you? It just makes me really, really happy to see you here with him now. I remember how you and him loved coming by to hang out and eat,” Mrs Kim reminisced thoughtfully, spreading the effect to you and possibly Sunghoon as well. She took a quick glance at the wall where your old picture was. “How about we take a new photo? I'll make sure to stick it on the wall to show how much our Olympic medallists had grown,”

You and Sunghoon laughed awkwardly, but neither of you rejected her offer either. At the same spot in the restaurant where you stood years back, in the exact position standing beside Mrs Kim with Sunghoon to her right, you smiled at the camera, listening to the click coming from the phone as the picture was taken. As Mrs Kim ran to check on the pictures, you looked over at Sunghoon, meeting his eyes at once as he had already been staring at you before that. 

It was unspoken, but you knew what he meant. This moment was something you and him both needed after everything that went down. It was a start over, a reflection on your past and reliving your memories. You were there then, also creating new memories for your future-self, looking back to feel nothing but relief that you and Sunghoon had patched up the cracks.

There was a small, genuine smile that crept onto your face. It was filled with nothing but sincere joy and relief. At that, Sunghoon reciprocated your smile, chuckling a little too. A wave of emotions flowed through the two of you in that instance, because you knew, there was nothing in this world that could ever take this moment away from you, never again. 

The next stop right after breakfast was your parents' homes. 

There was a sense of ease in the air ever since you left the restaurant. You and Sunghoon no longer were as tense as before, feeling rather comfortable in your own skin compared to the awkwardness you suffered from last time. Sunghoon couldn't hide his nervousness about going home, and if you thought about it too, you started feeling the same.

You didn't tell your parents you were visiting, after all it was an impromptu trip and you figured a surprise visit would be nice. 'Surprise' probably wouldn't be enough to describe your return together with Sunghoon. You doubted anyone could've seen this coming.

“Let's meet up after to get lunch, how does that sound?” Sunghoon and you were standing outside of his car that was parked on the sidewalk right by each of your houses. 

“Sounds good. I'll text you,”

“Sure. I'll let you know when I'm done too,” he glanced over your shoulder, looking at his house before averting his gaze to yours. It didn't take long for you to piece together what was going through his mind. Memories of your childhood, that was most likely flooding his head. “See you,”

“See you in a while too.”

It was odd. Watching Sunghoon entering his home, you couldn't get yourself to enter yours. Not because you were scared of your parents whatsoever, it was mainly due to a weird feeling clouding your senses. Every moment, everything, from the restaurant up until standing on the sidewalk with Sunghoon, it reminded you of your past that you were reliving in the present, except you were much older and had different circumstances. Growing up was weird.

Your parents were definitely surprised to see you walking through the front door. Nevertheless, they engulfed you in a hug and asked about your sudden visit. Once you mentioned Sunghoon, their eyes almost popped out, and you had to explain everything from the start to the end. 

“So, I guess we're friends again,”

“Oh, thank God,” your mother sighed dramatically, clutching onto her chest. You were already tired from her antics and it has only been an hour. “Thank God you and Sunghoon are back to being friends. I was wondering if you two will ever talk again,”

“We were almost never going to talk forever. Things weren't as smooth sailing in the beginning, but I'm glad we worked through it somehow,” you shrugged, lips flattening into a thin line. 

“Did you know Sunghoon would always visit us whenever he's back here?” your dad chimed into the conversation, it was his turn to surprise you with something new that you never knew about, so you shook your head. “He practically begged us not to tell you because he knew you'd be angry,” 

“He did?” you breathed out in disbelief and shock, not expecting Sunghoon would go out of his way to visit your parents as well. All while you and him were on bad terms, that was way more than necessary. You felt yourself melting into the couch, another level of guilt built internally. “He cared … way more than I thought.”

The day eventually rolled by swiftly after eating lunch and an early dinner with both yours and Sunghoon's family. The two families hadn't had the chance to sit down and catch up together as a whole in years. It wasn't the same in those years of bad blood, and now that everything was back to the way it should be, you could tell both families were at peace just as much as you were. Inevitably, you had to bid them goodbye with a heavy heart, accepting their wishes for the Olympics and stealing one last look to remember the moment.

The evening sun was setting soon, the sky was painted a hue of orange and yellow. You missed the feeling of watching the sunset back at home. This time around, however, you didn't feel a sense of sadness in you anymore, unlike how you did in the past. The sun was disappearing from sight as you stared out of the window. Sunghoon was bringing you to the last spot that he'd usually go to during his routine visit: your old training centre.

You still remember the last few times you visited the training centre. Once was after the Tokyo Olympics where you and some of your other teammates that you trained with at your old club came to meet some of the young swimmers. There was the other time when you personally visited to see your old coach, having the chance to speak to him privately and you could still recall the unavoidable mention of Sunghoon.

There you were, years later, walking by him along the vast swimming pool that you trained in with Sunghoon growing up, watching evening training sessions of the youth swimmers. Eventually, you and him decided to take a seat in the stands, feeling worn out after a long day. You turned to him, unwavering eyes trained on his face. “I’m surprised you would visit everytime you’re here even though you transferred,”

“It’s where everything started,” he had his attention on the training session happening below, a smile filled with reminiscence of the past slowly crept onto his lips. “It’s where all my memories are. I could remember every little memory of us being here from years ago,”

“I suppose you’re right. Whenever I’m here, I feel oddly nostalgic. Every part of the pool has a story behind it, that’s how much time we spent here,” you hugged your arms around yourself, leaning forward to get a clearer look of the swimmers’ performances. 

Sunghoon averted his gaze, turning to meet your eyes instead. There was a hint of fondness in those warm, brown irises that reflected a different version of you in them. They lingered for a beat longer before he finally spoke. “I’m glad you’re here with me this time,” there was no mistaking the sincereness in both his voice and his gaze, the truth of his was the same as how you felt. It truly was the closure that you and him needed. “You have no idea how much I missed you whenever I’m here,”

The edge of your mouth twitched, there was an unexplainable feeling in your heart, something that you’ve experienced around Sunghoon one too many times back then and it seemed to have returned once more. “And you have no idea how I feel the same about you when I’m here too.”

Going home, there was a much lighter atmosphere surrounding you and Sunghoon compared to before. You couldn’t explain it, but you just knew the trust and love that had existed in the past was coming back stronger than ever. It was a day filled with nostalgia, reminiscence and also vulnerability. You’d never thought you’d confess your inner thoughts to him until he did, being the first to open up and allowing you to realise he wasn’t the bad guy that you made him out to be in your head. He was Park Sunghoon, the same as the one you grew up with, the first boy who showed you everything and made you feel emotions you’ve never experienced. 

He was your best friend. Yet, deep inside of you, you knew in those two words, ‘best friend’, there was something more than simply just that.

One month. 30 days. 

The Paris Olympics seemed to be closer than imagined. From being a faraway dream to becoming a reality, the Olympics were the only thing clouding your thoughts day and night, just as it was for your teammates. You and your teammates have yet to stop pushing yourselves with the reminder of winning a gold medal, the weight of it made everyone tense and having a harder time to calm down. 

“Should we get some drinks tonight?” Yunjin proposed at the end of the training, looking expectantly at every one of you. “It’s the weekend and we have some time off,”

“No clubs please,” Anton threw his head back, dreading the thought of getting drunk at the club and being disoriented again, especially when the big day was coming.

“Who said we’ll be going to the club?” Yunjin’s smirk was telling you that she had a grand idea brewing in her head already. “Come to my place. I have the best drinks to offer,”

The temptation of drinking somewhere other than the club was getting to you and the others. With the accumulated stress and endless training, all you wished for was a chance to let go even for only a second. Now that Yunjin had proposed an idea that was hard to reject, the devil on your shoulder was calling for you to agree.

“I’m down,” Sunghoon was the first to agree to Yunjin’s idea, his eyes immediately meeting yours when you looked over at him. He flashed you a faint smile, giving you a drinking gesture to which you rolled your eyes at.

“You know what, me too,” Juyeon, who stood next to Sunghoon, threw his arm around Sunghoon, bouncing slightly on his heels. Following him, the others agreed too, and you inevitably went along. 

“I’ll pick you up,” Sunghoon said as he passed by you before disappearing with the guys to their locker rooms. Yunjin and Yujin were staring at you with a type of smile that you knew was up to no good. 

“What?” you wrapped your towel around you and started making your way to the locker room as well, the other two running up to catch up with you. 

“You and Sunghoon have gotten really close,” Yunjin nudged you with her elbow.

“Isn’t that what you all wanted? Since you locked me in a room with him,” you wiggled an accusatory finger at both Yunjin and Yujin who were equally guilty for conjuring up the idea and going along with it. “Is it supposed to be surprising that we’re close friends again?”

You remembered that day clearly and what exactly happened after. Once you made up with Sunghoon, you and him weren’t freed from the room immediately as you wished for it to be. Instead, you were in there for over an hour, stuck with Sunghoon and having to converse with him even though he had just witnessed your breakdown in front of him. Admittedly, it was a great bonding time that did help in repairing your relationship, but you were still holding that grudge that your friends had run off to leave you fending for yourself in that locker room.

Thankfully, their efforts were not in vain. After that, you and Sunghoon became closer as each day passed by. Although it was a little awkward and tense at some points in time, you still managed to get over it, building back the friendship that you used to have together. You could tell Coach Jeon was much more relaxed than usual seeing you and Sunghoon talk and interact. Not to mention, the trip back to your hometown has made a monumental impact on you and him, getting the closure that the both of you needed and finally putting everything behind. 

“Well…no,” Yujin interjected, a finger placed on her chin as if she was pondering deeply about something, then she turned to look at you sharply. “But, what if…”

You pulled a face at her, absolutely confused at what she was trying to mean. “What if?”

“What if,” it was Yunjin’s turn to chime in, raising her eyebrows suggestively at you. “What if you and Sunghoon—”

“Never!” you blurted out, stopping Yunjin from finishing the sentence that you knew what was going to end with. That question has been asked ever since you were kids till your teen years, and you were getting deja vu at that moment. The thought of Sunghoon and you dating has always pulled a convulsive reaction out of you.

“What?” Yunjin and Yujin shrieked, halting in their steps which prompted you to follow suit, staring frantically at them as though you’ve spoken a curse that had shook them.

“You had Park Sunghoon wrapped around your little finger since you were a kid and you never once—not even once—thought about him in that sense? Do you know how popular he is?” 

You knew Sunghoon was popular ever since you were a kid. It didn’t matter if it was in school, in the club or around your neighbourhood, his name had a reputation to it, the ‘cute swimmer boy’ was typically how people described him. The crushes people had on him were something you wished you would forget too, not because of jealousy whatsoever, but mainly because you were dragged into it for no reason at all.

“I’ve never considered it before,” you said simply, avoiding their watchful gazes, but were met with doubtful looks from the two girls. 

“Not even once?”

You swallowed, fidgeting with your towel and slowly losing your composure. There was a momentary pause that spoke more than words were needed, followed by an uncomfortable cough. “Well…maybe once,”

“Okay. Just once?” Yunjin pressed on, a satisfactory smile appearing on her lips just as imaginary devil horns appeared on her head. She knew what she was doing. 

“Or twice…” 

“Only?”

“I’m leaving!” you clutched onto your towel, not sparing your friends a single look before rushing towards the locker room. Your heartbeat was increasing at a concerning rate and it was not because you were speeding up your steps, but because of the thought of Sunghoon and your friends’ questions. This was frustrating!

Yunjin and Yujin watched as you sped walked away from them with smiles on their faces, the identical ones they had while brewing up the plan to get you and Sunghoon back together. Well, that worked, didn’t it? So, their next plan should be a guaranteed success.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

“I think I do.”

To your absolute dismay, the conversation you had with Yunjin and Yujin completely distracted you from that moment onwards. All you could think of was Sunghoon associated with the words ‘what if’ when you were in the shower, locker room until seeing the man himself in his car. You listened to him talk with the soft music in the background, the ambience itself painted a picture where a new light was shone on him, the thoughts returning in no time. 

You tried your best to avoid him when you had the chance at Yunjin’s place, taking every chance to distract yourself with your friends’ conversations while chugging down some good beer. There were a few occasions where you felt Sunghoon’s lingering stare at you, locking eyes for several seconds before being the first to look away, heat gradually crawling up to your cheeks. Damn it, Yunjin and Yujin, why did they have to put this imagery into your head? Now you can't face Sunghoon like a normal person.

“Why are you so quiet today?”

You were startled when you heard Sunghoon’s voice coming from behind you. It was right after midnight when you were sitting on one of the chairs in the balcony all by yourself, looking out at the city skyline with a half empty bottle of beer. Sunghoon made his presence known by taking a seat next to you, keeping his unwavering gaze at you, expecting an answer from you.

You. You were the reason. That was what you would’ve said if you had the guts to be as bold as you wished to be. However, that was already reserved for the Olympics, so you couldn’t bring yourself to be bold when it came to your true feelings. What were your true feelings in the first place?

“What? Oh, it’s nothing. I guess it’s just finally hitting me that the Olympics are soon. It’s quite nerve wracking,” you were lying through your teeth, and there was a small chance he could see through you.

Sunghoon propped one hand on his knee, leaning a little close to you, his eyes trained onto your face, the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of the beer lingered in the air between you and him. “You’re nervous? The Y/N L/N is nervous? That’s something new,”

“Quit teasing,” you slapped his arm in a lighthearted manner, resisting the urge to smile when you saw his face lighting up. “Everyone’s expectations are a heavy burden. Maybe I got older and became a little more aware of everything, but I’m finally realising not only our country is placing their hopes on us, the entire team is too,”

The emotional side of you was making its appearance once more just as it always does when you drink. Last time it was about Sunghoon, and this time it was with Sunghoon, you should be proud of the progress. Taking a swig of your beer, you tried to hide your vulnerability by acting as casual as you could. It has been ages since you and Sunghoon had these types of conversations, especially now that you’ve just recently patched things up, the last thing you wanted was to dump your worries on him.

“Do you still remember what they called us?” he placed his beer bottle onto the ground, the cool night air brushing against his hair, a slight tinge of pink painted on his cheeks from the alcohol in his system. You ignored how close he was to you, your knees brushing against one another at times, his cologne being the only thing you could breathe in, every single detail of his features being as clear as day in the night. “‘National treasures’. That’s what we are. That is what I think you are. Despite everything, whether it is losing or winning, it’s something nobody could ever take away from you. Take the burden and turn it into your strength. No one would blame you for any kinds of outcome,”

There was a beat of silence, you were blinking at him, absolutely lost for words. You were touched, the emotional imbalance wasn’t helping either as it made you feel a bottle of surging emotions. Most importantly, you could feel your heart skipping a beat. Was that supposed to be normal? You ignored the telling signs, opting to feign nonchalance and breaking into a smile. “Since when did you get so matured?”

Sunghoon let out a soft chuckle, turning away from you to look at the night sky instead. He breathed in deeply, exhaling just a second after, a comfortable silence settled for a split moment. “We’re the protagonists of the world,” he said without missing a beat, then he glanced back at you with a fiery spark in those brown irises of his. “That’s what we used to tell each other, isn’t it? So, what’s stopping us from being that again?”

He remembered. He remembered everything. Every little detail that you thought to be too insignificant for him to recall, every small moments you had together, every word you said to him, he never once forgot them. There was a slight widening of your eyes as you processed what he just said, the realisation eventually pulled a laugh of amusement out of you, a sudden wave of reminiscence filled your heart up. 

“You’re right. We’re born to be national treasures and the protagonists of the world. You and I.”

Landing in Paris was a dream come true. 

Not only were you accompanied by the entirety of the national team, but you had your closest friends by your side, the anticipation for victories were apparent in every one of you. Yunjin and Yujin couldn’t contain their excitement throughout the whole plane ride either. They were bugging you about the food choices available, the opening ceremony leading up to the design of the medals. It was a miracle you managed to sleep despite their constant bickerings.

“It’s really happening, isn’t it?” Yunjin whispered to you as the team were en route to the Olympic Village. 

“It is. It truly is,” you had a dazed look in your eyes, the passing sceneries of the city mesmerised you with the reality of you actually being there gradually hit you. “A once in four years opportunity. It is our time now.”

Unpacking your luggage was a hefty job once you’ve arrived at your assigned room in the village. You shared the lodging with your two best friends along with your other teammates from the swimming team, so there was nothing much to worry about except for the amount of gossip that would happen in that space alone. No matter how tired you all were, you had no choice but to power through it and get ready for the opening ceremony in the evening.

The opening ceremony was an unforgettable experience to say the least. You were dressed in a simple suit just as the others were too, the team uniform was the only thing taking up your line of sight as you stood on the boat that was cruising along the Seine River. Countless spectators were crowded on the bridge overlooking the river, waving to the boats passing by.

“I can’t believe we’re on a boat. We didn’t have this in Tokyo,” Yunjin whisper-shouted to you, recounting the opening ceremony back in Tokyo four years ago while waving the flag in her hand with great enthusiasm. 

“It’s not everyday you get to be on a boat in some expensive suit in Paris,” you threw an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder, pulling her close to your side. 

“And it’s not everyday you’re just casually participating in the Olympics,” Yujin added, doing the same to you and pulling you closer to her, eliciting a laugh from both you and Yunjin. It really was a miracle and a dream to have your best friends competing with you at such a big event, and that wasn’t something anyone could just brag about.

Halfway through the boat ride, you managed to squeeze past many familiar faces from your national team, some were even athletes you looked up to, and it made you feel like a fan all over again. However, that wasn’t your main goal for searching around the large boat. It was the person that came to your mind ever since you landed in Paris.

“Sunghoon!” 

He turned around at the sound of your voice calling after him, his curious gaze landed on you, warmth and familiarity filled his eyes at the sight of you accompanied by a boyish smile he would have whenever he was with you. There was no way he could hide his excitement of seeing you from the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the sides, looking at you as if you were the only person in his field of vision. 

“Hey,” he breathed out once you reached his side, the both of you leaned against the railings and looked out at the river. “Tired?”

“Very. Can’t you tell I’ve put concealer over my dark circles? I think the jet lag might hit soon,” you dramatically pointed at your under eye area, the frown on your face only pulled a humorous laugh out of Sunghoon. 

“Rest up. Our first event is tomorrow,” 

“Already?” you threw your head back, groaning at the thought of early morning training. 

“Crazy, isn’t it? I have back-to-back events too,”

“Who asked you to sign up for so many anyway?” you nudged his side teasingly, sharing a brief moment of eye contact. 

“I’m very passionate about swimming,” 

“Sure you are,” you snickered quietly at him, sharing the same smile he had on his face. Slowly, you turned to look at him, resting your elbow on the railing. “You’re not pushing yourself too hard, right?”

He averted his gaze from the view in front of him, glancing at you instead and meeting your rather intense eyes that held a message that he knew to decipher before you could explain further. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly. There was a hint of hesitance in his movements for a split second, but then he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m really glad I got to spend this Olympic with you,”

Given the last Olympics in Tokyo where you and he were still in the cold war era, it never once occurred to you that you’ve wasted a precious moment with him. It could’ve been a good memory where you experienced your first Olympics with the person that’s been by your side since day one. Four years since then, in this present time, staring at his delicate features with a crowd cheering around you, there was nothing you would trade to replace this moment with him. 

“I’m glad you’re here with me this time,”

His smile grew wider, eventually reaching his eyes that contained sparks which grew brighter as time passed. Your breath hitched, the air around you seemed to grow thicker, the breeze swept across your face, blowing against your hair. Yet, all you could do was be frozen in place, becoming much aware of the feeling of his skin on yours. How were you to explain the weird sensation of your heart tightening and racing quicker than normal? You were too young to experience cardiovascular diseases! 

Something in you knew it wasn’t symptoms of any heart diseases, it was the signs of love. That was much more frightening to you than anything else. 

“Are you…okay? You dazed out for a bit,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality after having an internal conflict with yourself. 

“What? Oh—I’m fine. Just a little jetlagged. I told you it’s setting in,” you laughed with a nervous undertone to it, trying to wave off any suspicion along with your own thoughts about Sunghoon. 

“Get enough sleep tonight. I’ll be there rooting for you tomorrow. After all, your event is before mine, so I’ll be giving you my every support,” he squeezed your hand gently, unbeknownst to him, his action along with the feeling of it travelled to your heart, triggering it to thump harder against your chest. “You better swim at your best, okay? I’ll always be able to see right through you,”

‘I know you’. You remembered it as clear as day, as though it happened just yesterday. Sunghoon’s words brought back the memory of what he had said to you during your first few altercations in training. It was a fact. There was no need for you to deny it or try to avoid that, because both you and Sunghoon knew, no matter what, you’d be able to see through one another and be the best judges of each other’s performances. After all those years, this seemed to have not changed.

You scoffed lightheartedly, turning your face away from him for a moment to hide your flushed state before facing him once again, putting up a front of casualness. “Who are you? Coach Jeon?”

He snorted at the mention of your coach, shaking his head a little. “I think Coach Jeon would be pissed if you didn’t do your best,” he was stating the obvious, considering your coach has the sharpest eyes when it comes to everyone’s performances, there was no way anyone would dare to do so. Sunghoon raised his eyebrows at you, the slightest smile resting on his lips. “But I don’t think that’ll happen. Ever. Y/N L/N, the person I know my whole life, would never slack off or put zero effort into your swim. So, just do your best,”

“You, do your best, too. I’m hoping we can return home with medals around our necks,”

“Of course we are,” he said without any hesitation whatsoever, straightening his spine and wearing a confident smile, never once loosening his hold on your hand. You forgot Sunghoon tends to be the one who had more confidence than you before every competition. It has been that way ever since you were kids, and it seemed to have continued onto the present day. “Did you forget? We’re national treasures. We’ll always bring a medal home. This time, however, it’s going to be gold,”

“You better stick to your words,” you pointed a finger at him, the thought of winning the gold medal excited you, but it also scared you. To Sunghoon, it was just another challenge for him to tackle. 

“I will, and you better give it your all to win that gold too. I want to win it together with you … like how we used to.” 

Nostalgia was certainly dangerous. You couldn’t help smiling at the mention of the past, thinking about the times you and Sunghoon won gold medals in your individual events. The pictures taken together with a gold medal hanging around each of your neck, smiling innocently with pure joy from winning resided in a thick photobook, becoming memories that you would never let go. It might’ve been different this time compared to the competitions from your childhood as it was the Olympics, the pressure and expectations were higher on you and him. Despite all that, the dynamic between you and Sunghoon remained the same.

Looking out at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, you realise this Olympics wasn’t just a chance to fulfil your dreams, your country’s expectations, but also the hope and dream you shared with Sunghoon since you were kids. The last Olympics might’ve not gone as well as you wished it had in terms of your friendship with Sunghoon, so this was a chance for you to turn things around. Not to mention, your inner voice bugged you constantly about your complicated feelings that have yet to have an answer. Now, that was another problem to solve.

First, you’ve got to get that gold medal. Secondly, you must figure out your true feelings for your best friend. Between the two, the latter seemed much harder than the Olympic gold medal.

“You’re telling me you thought of Sunghoon in a romantic way?”

Breaking the news while you’re warming up half an hour before the finals of your first event was probably the worst timing possible. It was even worse for Yujin and Yunjin who had just finished their semifinal round for their butterfly event. 

Quite frankly, you couldn’t blame yourself either. The thought of it was spilling at the seams since its first appearance prior to the Olympics. From that point onwards, it only seems to plague you further by taking over your mind. You were lucky you managed to make it to the top three out of the eight to qualify to the finals. The first day was already chaotic for you, to top it all off, you just couldn’t avoid Sunghoon entirely and thus, the thoughts about him worsened.

“Well, correction, ‘thinking’, not ‘thought’,” you said meekly, attempting to hide your face by stretching, but your two friends weren’t letting you go easily.

“Present tense?” Yujin shrieked, earning odd stares from reporters and other competitors around you. She pursed her lips, lowering her gaze before narrowing it at you. “So, you do have feelings for him?”

“I don’t know? It’s not confirmed … yet. I think?”

“You haven’t made up your mind yet,” Yunjin hummed, seemingly much calmer than Yujin from the looks of her demeanour. “You’re in denial. I do think you have some feelings if you couldn’t stop thinking about him,”

You stopped your actions, deciding you were done warming up, but remained motionless, a defeated sigh eventually left your lips. “What do I do?”

“Own up to it. Face it,” Yunjin stated plainly, receiving a groan from you as a response. 

“Easier said than done. The last thing I want to do is to ruin our friendship right after fixing it,” 

Yujin looked at you with the softest gaze, much rather in sympathy at your pathetic state. “That won’t happen. How do you know it’s unrequited? What if Sunghoon feels the same way?”

“Impossible,”

“Hey! Don’t make any conclusions before knowing the truth,” Yunjin landed a smack to the back of your head, and as much as you knew you deserved that wake up call, you still hissed at the sting.

“You’re right. I think I’m overcomplicating everything,”

“You are,” Yujin was straightforward, even if her honest truth was a cut to the skin, her rubbing your back in reassurance was a way to patch the wound. “How about we have a debrief tonight at dinner? You should be focusing on what’s much more important now,”

“The fucking finals, Y/N! The 400m freestyle finals! You’re against Ledecky, you should be more worried about her than Sunghoon,” Yunjin surely made a point, and it did help in giving you additional assurance. 

You couldn’t resist laughing, especially at their rather interesting way of encouragement and comfort. “Let's talk about this tonight then. I’ll make sure to swim my best later,”

“Duh, when will you ever not? Come on, Sunghoon’s 400m freestyle final is starting. Do you want to watch that or dodge him?”

“Of course I’d want to watch it. After all, he’s still my best friend and I told him I'll be there to support him,” you remembered the unspoken promise you had with Sunghoon to win the gold medal together. With your first finals happening back-to-back, the desperation to achieve your life-long dream with each other had personally overwhelmed the thought of your nation placing their entire hope on your back.

Being at the poolside gave you a slap in the face with the reality that you were in the finals and you weren’t hallucinating every part of it. You were with some of your other competitors for the finals, some were doing last warm-ups while some were sitting and waiting for the men to start their finals. You were one of those waiting for the event to begin. From the looks of your legs shaking, it was hard to determine who you were nervous for. Yourself or Sunghoon? 

The swimmers soon take their places at their individual starting block. You could spot Coach Jeon giving Sunghoon some last minute advice before giving the boy an encouraging pat in the back, sending him off to his spot. At one point, you wondered if you were staring too intensely at the back of Sunghoon’s head. It was as if he could feel your stare and your presence simultaneously, opting to look over his shoulder instead of stretching like the other swimmers. One look was all it took for Sunghoon to spot you. He had the same spark in his eyes as the moment he saw you on the boat during the open ceremony.

His shoulders evidently sagged in relief. He breathed in deeply, followed by a striking smile that he casted specifically at you. In those years of competing together, you barely had times where your events were back-to-back, but whenever there were opportunities as such, either you or him would be relieved to see one another. Just one glance, and it’d calm your racing heart in no time. To you this time, however, instead of slowing down your beating heart, his presence only made your heart work ten times harder than usual.

Sunghoon had no choice but to take his eyes off of you once they gave out the signal to the swimmers to take their places on the starting block. Your eyes were trained solely on him, unable to tear them away from his figure as you watched him pull his goggles over his head. Quietly, and routinely, you prayed for the best.

There was a loud electronic beep that was followed by the swimmers diving into the pool, a sound of water splashing filled the arena and from that, the cheers increased by ten folds. You could barely breathe as you stared at the large projector that displayed the live televised scene of what’s happening before you, giving everyone a much better view of the action in the pool. 

Sunghoon was currently in a tight spot with both the German and Australian swimmers relentlessly chasing after the first place. There were times when the top three would overtake each other to secure the gold medal position just to fall back. It was only the second lap out of the eight, but you could feel yourself unconsciously gripping onto your chair tightly. To the spectators and fans, the thrill of the competition between the swimmers spurred them alive, the atmosphere in the arena became increasingly wilder from the shouts and cheers.

The swimmers completed each lap with vigour, swimming back and forth for eight laps without stopping for a second, the last lap was soon approaching once you saw Sunghoon kicked his feet off the wall, heading back to the starting spot for one last time. The underwater battle between him and the other two swimmers was becoming much more fierce, leaving the rest of the swimmers to trail behind them. 

There was barely any gap between the three of them till the point where it became hard to determine who was in the lead. The tension was high, the fans in the crowd were shouting louder while waving the flags of their countries. You could hardly get your eyes off of the screen, the name of your best friend was displayed on the lane he was swimming in, the distance between them and the starting point was closer as each second passed.

Nobody dared to blink the next moment. Once their hands touched the walls, it was already the signal of the end. Every swimmer stopped once they had finished their lap, holding onto the edge and waiting for the results. The screams from the people watching in the stands became a hundred times louder when the leaderboard revealed the names of the top three winners. You averted your gaze to the three names, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of Sunghoon’s name sitting in second place.

The camera panned over to show Sunghoon on the screen. There was a hint of disappointment that was hard to hide, but you could tell he was trying to put on a smile. Losing the gold medal was frustrating, however, at the end of the day, he was still a winner of the silver medal, making him the first athlete to clinch an Olympic medal for the country this early on in the campaign. 

The swimmers eventually got out of the pool, rushing to interviews or choosing to freshen up by changing into their tracksuits. The medalists were busy tending to the reporters and once they were done, they rushed off to change so that they could get ready for the award ceremony. That was when Coach Jeon approached you, reminding you that your own event was starting soon. 

“Ready?” he patted your shoulder, giving his best to offer any form of encouragement that seemed to not have successfully calmed you down entirely. 

“Not really, but I’ll be okay,”

“Just remember what we always practised. Those months of hard work will not be in vain, you hear me? Go out there and prove to everyone that you’re Y/N L/N. The star swimmer of the national team.”

‘Y/N L/N, the star swimmer of the national team’. You never expected that the title which has been thrown around in headlines for years to finally become somewhat significant to you until this moment. You were in a designated staging room waiting for the award ceremony to end and at the same time, to get ready for yours. The small television screen in the corner of the wall was broadcasting the entirety of the ceremony, the commentators’ voices were drowned out by the chatters in the room, and your sole focus was on Sunghoon who stood behind the podium. 

The moment his name was announced, he stepped onto the podium, accepting the silver medal that was hung around his neck. There was a small smile on his face as he waved to the crowds, a smile you knew very well whenever he wasn’t fully satisfied with his own results. Apparently he hasn’t changed much over the years when it comes to swimming. 

“We’re starting in five minutes!”

That reminder brought you back to your own reality that you had to face undoubtedly. The second the awards ceremony ended as fast as it had started, preparations for your event began and not long after that, the names of every competitor were announced in order. You walked out of the tunnel right as your name was called, the sound reverberated around the arena, the cheers that followed were loud enough to shake the ground of Paris. You’ve missed this feeling.

Standing before the pool with a large crowd was indeed nerve wracking after months of not competing and swimming in a pool with no spectators around. Even though you did swim with the crowd watching the day before for the preliminary round, you felt the difference at that moment knowing it was the finals. Everyone in that arena was placing their hopes on the athletes from their own countries, it was the same for you, but nothing could compare to how you and your competitors actually felt.

There was a buzz that signalled every one of you to take your places on the starting block. At that point, everything seems clearer to you. The water in the pool, the people in the crowd, your country’s flag, all of them were the reason why you felt almost unbeatable, they gave you strength. The beeping sound of the countdown matched the rhythm of your heartbeat, ever so calmly and steady. 

Just as it did for the finals prior to this one, the electronic beep sounded once more and you kicked off from your starting block, diving into the pool with nothing but the goal of finishing the eight laps in your mind. Time stood still, the only thing filling your vision was the bottom of the pool along with your competitors in your peripheral vision. You didn’t know what was happening above the water or which place you were currently in, with every breath you inhaled, you wished time could stop for a second. 

Every contact with the wall gave you a purpose to keep pushing forward. More than half of the eight laps were completed, all you needed was to push yourself further. It was hard being trapped with yourself and your own thoughts, the constant ideas of what would happen after this kept bugging you even as you swam. Time was, in fact, ticking. The eight laps were soon coming to an end. There was just one last lap from you and you’d be done. 

The starting point seemed distant from your point of view. All you could wish for was your extended hand to quickly make contact with the wall. With every pump of your heart, you counted down to the moment you’ve anticipated for. One, two, three …

One slight graze of your finger against the wall marked the end of your lap. You grabbed onto the edge tightly, emerging to the surface of the water and inhaling a deep breath. Practically snatching your goggles off, your head snapped towards the direction of the leaderboard. Your name sat between the Australian and American swimmers. 

Second place. 3 minutes and 58 seconds, only a second away from first place.

You shut your eyes for at least a few seconds, forcefully swallowing your disappointment down after as you congratulated your competitors. It was the first event out of the many you were competing in. You remained optimistic even as you answered questions from the reporters, though you wished they would cut down on the gold medal questions this early into the campaign. 

On the way to the changing room, you spot a familiar face hanging around with your coach and several other of your teammates. The sight alone brought comfort to you and your heart, there was no chance of you resisting the urge to run up to them. Anton had already beaten you to it, being the first out of the group to spot you and practically shouting your name for the whole world to know.

“Congrats! You kept your spot in the 400m freestyle,” Anton wasted no time in giving you a one handed hug. The others followed too, giving you different variations of a hug.

“I wish I could’ve upgraded, you know?”

“It’s better than none, right? But I do know what you mean, and I believe you’ve done your best,” Anton gave your shoulder a light squeeze, offering a warm smile.

“You did good, Y/N. You were in great form today, but sometimes there’ll be people with better form. Don’t let that get to you and focus on the next event, okay?” Coach Jeon patted you softly on your back, recognising the disappointment in your tone. “Go on and change up, the awards ceremony is soon. Let’s go and not bother Y/N first. We’ll see you later,”

Coach Jeon gave you one last pat on the back then left with the others trailing behind him, all of them cheering you on as they passed you. In the end, it was always your team who’s your biggest support system. That has never changed over the years, and it would never change even for the future, you were very sure of that. 

Amongst the group of your teammates who had already left, one happened to stay back and waited for the chance to speak to you alone. You didn’t expect seeing this person would bring you more comfort after losing the lead. Not a hug or some encouraging words, his presence alone was what you needed in times like this, just the same as it was years ago.

“Hey,” Sunghoon had his hands tucked into his pants, the silver medal was still hanging around his neck. You figured he had just finished taking pictures and was freshly done with the press conference. From the tiredness in his voice, you wished he had gone off to rest as well, but knowing him, he would rather see you first than do all that.

“Hey,” you said back, letting him be the one to walk towards you and closing the gap. Pointing at the silver medal that he was sporting, you stared at him with a knowing smile. “You better not beat yourself up over this,” you landed a firm punch to his shoulder, but unlike how he would’ve usually reacted, he just accepted it with a grin growing on his lips, neither dodging or groaning from it. There was something so soft about his eyes that stared back at you, an unreadable mix of emotions that you’ve never seen before reflected in his those brown irises. 

“I won’t,” he chuckled, hands unknowingly reaching to touch his silver medal. “After all, this is only the beginning. There’ll be a gold medal soon,”

“I need some of your confidence. You’re always so certain about your goals and you’d end up achieving it,” you pointed out without a second thought, and you weren’t exactly wrong either, earning an amused chuckle from him. “You better let me wear the gold medal once you win it,”

“Hey, didn’t we have this conversation before? We’re both winning the gold medal. Don’t forget that,” he frowned at you, thick eyebrows knitting together and it only made you smile in endearment. “I’m not winning this without you. I want to achieve our dream together,”

“You’re ridiculous,” you let out in disbelief, but from the look on Sunghoon’s face, you knew he was dead serious. Sunghoon was determined to achieve this goal with you no matter what, and he was going to succeed despite the circumstances. Just as you’ve said, Sunghoon has always achieved his goals that he was certain of, this one was the same as the rest to him.

“You said I’m certain about my goals, so here I am. I’m sure we’d win it. Together.” 

There was an overflowing amount of sureness in his conviction till the point where it had influenced you gradually. If there was one thing about Sunghoon, it’d be the fact that once he’s set his mind on something, he’d do anything to get it. You were just worried that mindset would wear him out in the long run if something didn’t go his way.

“I’ll hold you to it then,”

“Hey Y/N! The ceremony is starting in five minutes! Go change up! I’ll see you out there,” the American swimmer who secured third place, Katie Ledecky, spotted you still unchanged and in your swimsuit. 

“Oh—alright! Thanks!” you waved at her, casting her an appreciative smile, and once she was out of sight, you turned back to Sunghoon, looking rather awkward at the sudden interruption. “I need to get going—”

“Right. I’m sorry for holding you up,”

“No, it’s okay. I’m … really glad I got to see you before going out there. I’m less nervous now,” 

“Really?”

“Really,”

A beat of silence filled the space between you right after. Internally, you were freaking out for admitting your thoughts so freely as you’ve just done. What was Sunghoon going to think now that you’ve said that? Would he interpret it as something else? What if—

“I’ll get going now. See you after the ceremony,”

“See you!”

There you went scurrying away from Sunghoon like a coward with your heart rate increasing, mentally cursing at yourself for your slip of a tongue. At any moment, you might as well confess your deeply hidden inner feelings to him. The gold medal, the pressure of winning and the expectations from everyone else could no longer amount to the stress of your true feelings towards Park Sunghoon. 

Even as you stood on the podium with everyone watching, you couldn’t bring yourself to take your mind off of Sunghoon. In the midst of the crowd, you could easily spot him together with your teammates. It was your moment, your victory, the few times you could call yourself a winner on a stage as big as this, but the only person you could think of was your best friend. 

The same best friend that grew up watching movies at your house, sometimes staying up too late just because you couldn't stop talking and wishing the night would never end. He was your best friend who would tell you stories about how one day you'd both be competing at the Olympics, and he was the one who'd hold your hand whenever you felt overwhelmed no matter where you were.

You had always thought those weird feelings you'd have in your heart were common everytime he said something to you or whenever he held your hands. Never once you thought those nights you stayed up with him, lying on your bedroom floor, talking about your futures where you stared at him with something other than platonic love in your eyes was odd. You remembered the time he laughed so hard until his eyes turned crescent shaped, and that was when you felt your heart skipping a beat, not knowing this wasn't as common as it seemed. 

It was not normal. None of those things were ever normal. All of them went flying over your head instead. In that moment, while the national anthem played in the background, you've come to finally realise you've always felt this way for Sunghoon since forever. Those years together were just you denying your feelings for him, avoiding the fear of ruining your friendship. Up until now, you still had that underlying fear especially with the fall out that happened. But your heart was screaming louder at you, clouding the fear and pushing you towards him.

With the applause and camera flashes going off, you forced a smile, the grip on the flowers and your medal tightened, because it finally dawned on you, the undeniable truth that you've suppressed for almost your life was emerging. 

You're in love with Park Sunghoon.

Nothing has been the same for you ever since coming to terms with the realisation that you romantically loved Sunghoon.

Your friends could tell you were acting a little off that day when you won your first medal, barely able to swallow down your food during dinner as you talked about Sunghoon. Even though you initially shrugged it off by saying it was just jet lag, it didn’t take long before you cracked and confessed the actual truth to your friends. Did they see it coming beforehand? Absolutely. Were they helpful? Not so. ‘Just tell him’, ‘I think he feels the same’ were the inputs from your friends that seemed to have made your head a mess.

You’ve always been brave. There were times where you had to face challenges thrown at you from every direction and somehow you managed to deal with them. For instance, you got through your injuries with courage and determination, nobody doubted that fact. But when it came to your feelings, bravery and determination was practically nonexistent, only quiet longing and pining existed.

“You better not beat yourself up over this,” the familiar words coming from Sunghoon who appeared beside you almost made you jump in surprise. 

Another silver medal won, another close chance to get gold, merely missing by a small margin. You wished to be as optimistic as you were at the beginning, but the disappointment seemed to have built up gradually. The reminder from Sunghoon made you smile upon realising that he had just repeated what you said to him before, it was a genuine smile unlike the one that you put on the podium. 

“I’ll try not to,” you removed the medal from your neck, clutching onto it in your hand. “After all, you did say a gold medal is coming soon, didn’t you?”

“I did. Don’t you remember we’re having the mixed medley relay in less than an hour?”

“Right. Our first event together,” your grip on your medal tightened unconsciously, the sudden awareness of your feelings towards him was causing your brain to haywire. Why now? “We haven’t competed together since we were fifteen,”

“I don’t think they saw I’m promising in mixed and men's medley,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he recalled the day he was announced to be replaced in the line up. “How ironic it is that I’m back to square one,”

“Must be fate, isn’t it? The domino effect that led us here,” you marvelled at the fact that your reconciliation with Sunghoon happened at the cost of Yeonjun’s demise. Sunghoon seemed to have caught onto the gist of the meaning behind your words, shaking his head and laughing quietly. 

“I hope Yeonjun’s doing fine,”

“He is. He’s just bummed that he had to miss the Olympics. I’m surprised at how nonchalant he is about it though,” 

“Maybe, maybe not. You’d never know. Anyway, I think we should get going, we need to get ready with the rest,” he gave your back a light pat, nodding his head over to where your coach and teammates stood, signalling for you to go there together. In less than thirty minutes, you’d be swimming in the mixed medley relay, not knowing what the outcome would be like against the other powerful teams, especially with Sunghoon as a replacement, it was impossible to predict anything. 

“What do you think might happen?” You couldn’t help wondering aloud as you and Sunghoon made your way, occasionally stealing glances at the pool where the current event was taking place.  

“It’s hard to say. I’ve never done this before and making it to the finals was already a miracle for someone who has little experience like me. I just hope this will be the moment,” he had a small pensive frown, eyebrows furrowed as if he was fighting with his thoughts internally. You instantly knew what he meant by ‘the moment’, the silver medal in your hand somehow becoming heavier at the longing for your shared desire of winning the gold medal.

Despite the tense atmosphere with the pressure to win the gold medal, you managed to let out a genuine, carefree laugh, looping your arm around Sunghoon’s in the heat of the moment. Unbeknownst to you, he tensed for a second and his eyes were flickering in panic at your touch. You turned to look at him, a wide, infectious grin plastered on your face, reminding Sunghoon of many moments you shared with him in the past, feeling a sudden surge of deja vu but also an unfamiliar sensation gripping at his chest. 

“With us together, I’m sure we’d be the protagonists of the world, like always.”

Walking out of the tunnel with you and your teammates names being announced to the whole arena to hear was a surreal moment. You had ignored the way your heart raced from the simplest action of holding Sunghoon’s hand for a split second when all of you raised your interlocked hands in greeting to the fans. It was torture to pretend you were completely normal even when Sunghoon casted you a smile right after you dropped your hands. It was almost as if he knew and was mocking you.

“Alright guys,” Anton started, taking the chance while all you were huddled together removing your tracksuits. “After our months of training together and from the results recorded each time, I’m sure we’ll be able to face this and get a medal home. Don’t think much, we’re going to win this,”

Anton, being the group’s hype man for every competition, didn’t fail to restore the heavy atmosphere yet again. The rest of you smiled at his encouraging words that were filled with confidence, making quiet cheers and taking turns to give him a grateful pat in the back. There were some wishes of good luck and last encouragements shared around the group before Anton took his position on the starting block, being the first to begin for the backstroke leg in the relay. 

The electronic buzz was no stranger to any of you by then. At the sound of it, every swimmer dived into the pool, swimming faced up with their arms moving in a windmill-like fashion. You could tell Yujin and Sunghoon were both holding their breaths, watching Anton and the two other swimmers fighting for the lead. Hell, you were too, wishing you could choose to close your eyes instead.

Before you knew it, Sunghoon was already making his way to the starting block to get in position. The time was ticking, you knew it was selfish but you couldn’t help yourself from grasping onto his hand, stopping him in his steps, catching him off guard like a deer in headlights. “Good luck,” it was nothing much, a simple expression just like any other, yet you couldn’t explain the reason why you had to tell it to him personally.

It wasn’t obvious, but from the looks of his expressions softening, melting into a relieved smile as if a huge boulder had been taken off his shoulders, Sunghoon seemed to have needed to hear it from you just as much as you needed to tell it to him. “Thank you. Really.”

You let go of his hand, watching as he took his position the same way as he had always done in practices. There was a sense of calmness around him. He fixed his swim cap once, pulling on his goggles after, strictly in a particular order that he followed since the start of his career. His small habits and the superstitions he believed in never changed even after all those years.  

The moment Anton was nearing, Sunghoon dived into the pool. Your head snapped to the leaderboard displayed on the big screen, heart nearly stopping at the sight of the team being in first place at that moment. Yujin followed your sight, letting out a breath of disbelief. You turned to meet her eyes, exchanging a knowing look and placed your arms around the other. Nothing could compare to the anxiety you were feeling as the person who was going last.

Yujin was the next to dive into the pool after Sunghoon reached the starting point. He climbed out, absolutely drenched and breathing heavily from the swim. Anton went up to him and gave him a wordless squeeze to the shoulder, letting Sunghoon catch his breath first while they watched the scene unfolding before them. 

Soon, it was your cue to get in position on the starting block. Anton patted your shoulder, saying a haste ‘good luck’ once more as you made your way there. Sunghoon was quiet, he knew you more than anyone would, and in that exact second, he understood that you didn’t need another word of encouragement. Instead, he held onto your hand, squeezing it tightly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he nodded his head, a slight smile on his lips. That was truly all you needed from him.

The feeling when you pulled your goggles over your head, eyes facing straight on the water was simply unexplainable, complex even. It was the same as it had been for days, months, years, but this time, in this exact instant, why did everything feel different? Was it because of the lead and the pressure to uphold it as the person in the last leg? You shook away every one of those intrusive thoughts, focusing on Yujin getting closer. 

Just as she got close enough, you knew it was your cue to dive into the pool, letting the water engulf you whole as you kicked your legs, propelling yourself upward to the surface. Your hands and legs were working in tandem, going over the limit to execute your best movement. Every intake of air was scarce, filling your lungs with the right amount as you turned your head each time. 

Before you knew it, you had already reached one point, executing a swift flip turn, then you were swimming towards the starting point, towards the end of the relay. You had no idea what was happening above the water, whether or not you were still maintaining the lead, all you could was empty your mind and swim despite the tiredness wearing you down after having to compete in another event earlier on. You finally understood the struggles of having two finals in a day that your teammates would constantly complain about at that moment. 

You didn’t dare to move your head a single inch, maintaining the perfect position as you swam even though you were curious how far you were from the other end of the wall. Time was slow when you were the one swimming, the concept of everything happening around you was unknown to you. Your heart dropped to your stomach the second you felt your finger lightly brush against the wall, instantly gripping onto the edge with overwhelming suspense to know what the results were. You were holding your breath as you resurfaced, ears muffled for a split second before you were swarmed with your teammates who all crouched by you, barely having the chance to spare a glance at the leaderboard.

“We won! We fucking won!” Yujin shouted, barely containing her emotions as tears started streaming down her face, swim cap gripped tightly in her hands. 

“We did it. Oh my God,” Anton exclaimed, letting his own emotions overwhelm him as he buried his face into his hands, not budging when Yujin wrapped her arms around him.

Sunghoon reached his hand out to you, his eyes were rimmed with a soft crimson hue, the redness highlighting the raw vulnerability within that he tried so hard to mask. The lashes glistened with unshed tears, and the whites of his eyes seemed to shimmer, revealing the depth of his unspoken feelings. Each blink threatened to spill over, this moment was what you and him have been waiting for. “We finally did it. We made it.”

You accepted his hand, allowing him to help you out of the water, but before he could fully stand straight, you had already pounced on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. Sunghoon melted into your touch, holding you close to him with his arms around you with no space left for you to move. The leaderboard was turning blurry in your vision that was gradually filling with tears, your grip on him tightening and your head leaned onto his shoulder, tears mixing with the pool water on his skin. 

He pulled away for a moment, hands still holding onto you, never wanting to let go for just a split second. There was nothing said, yet you could feel every emotion he was trying to convey through his eyes. Those shaking hands of his travelled from your waist to your face, cradling it in them, the softness of his palm pressed against your skin. It was fast, him leaning in to press a kiss that lasted longer than a second, the aftermath of it being you and him staring at each other with a mixed reaction of surprise and softness. Before you could say anything, he pulled you back into a hug, wrapping his arms around you tighter than ever. 

The cheers around you were drowned out, the presence of the other swimmers were long forgotten, all you could think of was you and Sunghoon only. As you held onto each other as if there was no tomorrow, you never knew how impactful this win was to you and him. If either of you had won your first gold medal in your individual events, everything would’ve turned out differently. But with this shared win, the long awaited gold medal win that you and him swore to achieve together, your dreams had come true, and it was done side by side. 

Standing on the podium next to your teammates and most importantly, the person that you’ve been through thick and thin with, receiving the gold medal that hung around your neck perfectly, you wondered if it was all a daydream. You reached for Sunghoon’s hand, slipping yours into his that he instinctively accepted, glancing at you with the widest smile in his face that was immediately burned into your brain, an image that was impossible to recreate. It was real, everything was real. The win, the feeling of victory, your unwavering feelings for the man that was holding onto your hand tightly, all of those were equally real. 

“What should we do to celebrate?” Anton had his eyes glued on his gold medal the rest of the day, unable to store it away for just a second. Every one of you thought he might’ve already developed an attachment to it.

“Sleep, rest. We still have our last day tomorrow,” Yujin let out a massive yawn, muscles worn out for the time being to even be able to muster any leftover energy. Unfortunately, you had no choice but to agree with her, the only one who seemed to have enough energy to celebrate was Anton.

“Right, the men and women’s medley relay finals,” Anton murmured, his enthusiasm for a celebration was crushed after realising he still had one more event to go before being able to celebrate fully. “Ready for another round, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon, who only looked rather dreadful at the mention of their next and last event, showed a frown as a response, thinking about the possibilities that would emerge from the big event. “I’m scared. China and the US … France—”

Anton, carefree as always, slapped Sunghoon in the back. “Don’t be pessimistic, we’ll be fine. Isn’t that true, Y/N?”

You averted your attention away from the screen of your phone, looking up and unknowingly meeting Sunghoon’s eyes almost at once. It was unexpected, the intensity of his stare was all you needed to know that he had been stealing glances at you before this. The suddenness of it made you fluster for a second, nearly forgetting what Anton had just said. “Y–yeah, you guys will be fine. The team medalled at the world championships anyway,”

“You hear that? Don’t worry about tomorrow. Let’s bask in the glory!” Anton threw his arms around Sunghoon, successfully stealing his attention and giving you a chance to look away, calming your heart that was beating out of control. 

Taking down one challenge at a time for your forte. With a gold medal secured, you’ve succeeded at the main task at hand. Now that your biggest obstacle was gone, there came another tumbling towards you: Park Sunghoon. You swore to yourself you’d get a gold medal first before dealing with that, and since you’ve always been someone who stuck to your words, it seemed to have come to haunt you instead.

Mission ‘tell Sunghoon how you feel’ was about to be tougher and scarier, probably a much higher chance of a heartbreak than any competitions you’d have ever participated in. 

Who would’ve known that the Olympics had ended as fast as it started. One day you were just arriving at the village and the next thing you knew, you’re in the airport waiting for your flight home. Four medals won, a friendship mended, many unforgettable memories made, all of which happened in the course of a few months leading up to the Olympics and also the weeks that you spent in Paris.

“What’s in your mind?” Sunghoon crept up to the empty seat next to you in the lounge as everyone waited to board the flight. You turned your head to the direction of his voice, your body instantaneously reacting to him before your mind could fully process his presence. 

“I’m just thinking about how quick this whole Olympics passed by,” you leaned your back onto the seat, Sunghoon following your action without removing his gaze on you. 

“Isn’t it crazy how training started a few months ago?” Sunghoon chuckled at the thought of his first day in a new team that totally freaked him out. That entire nonchalant persona he put on was a complete facade, though he would never admit it aloud. “And now you’re going home with four medals,”

“Says the man who has five,” you nudged his shoulder with yours in a lighthearted manner, exchanging a brief smile with him. “It’s weird how six years of us not talking feels like it never happened before, like it was some kind of blip in the matrix. I’m glad we’re able to patch things up and go back to the way it was,”

“Me too. I missed this. I missed us,” it was odd, the way Sunghoon looked at you with emotions that you’d never seen, the vulnerability breaking through his voice, everything felt intimate, too intimate for just a simple conversation in the middle of an airport with everyone around. He took your hand and placed it in his, soft eyes crinkled in the corners with a gentle smile that he always had around you. “Once we’re back home, how about you and I take a short trip to our hometown again? Just the both of us like the last time,”

Staring at him, you were quite stunned, blinking feverishly, and at the same time, the feelings that you tried to shake off so many times were returning at that exact second. “I’d love to. We can grab our favourite lunch set like always,” 

Sunghoon snorted, but he was nodding along despite the amusement. “You’re right. We didn’t get that when we were there that day,”

“I forgot! Plus, we had lunch with our family, I’m sure the overdue reminiscing can wait for a little longer,”

“That is why we’re going to go back for a week or more, do the things we always did and visit the places we went when we were kids,” Sunghoon snapped his fingers, staring at you with sparkling eyes. You could tell he really did miss home and his hometown with you in it. “Do you remember the secret hideout we had? The one in the park?”

“You mean the swing?” you smiled at the mention of your shared memories, remembering bits and pieces of it that has yet to be brought up until then.

“Yes, our swing,” Sunghoon enunciated the word ‘our’, a cheeky grin plastered on his lips that told you he was about to say something abysmal. “I really want to go back to that spot with you. Do you still remember that one time you dragged me there at night sobbing because the coach said you’re off by two seconds?”

“Oh my God, shut up,” you landed a hit on Sunghoon’s shoulder, the latter continued to laugh at the fond memory, ignoring your eye roll. His laughter and his smile that reached all the way up to his eyes made you feel fuzzy inside, the picture of it was eternally imprinted onto your mind. “I was such an overachiever,”

“You still are,” he managed to say in between laughters, gradually settling down and unbeknownst to you, his shoulder was pressed against yours, the gap between you and him were becoming nonexistent. “That is why you’re an Olympic champion,”

You shook your head, waving your hand at him. “Please, don’t flatter me and my ego,”

“It’s true! You really are amazing, you know that?” Sunghoon exclaimed, not a single trace of dishonesty was found in his words, his expressions showing genuinity. If he was able to read minds, he would’ve heard your mind yelling at you right after that. You were short circuiting, unable to generate a response. “In my whole life of knowing you, you’re truly one of the best, both in terms of swimming and simply as a person. You’re smart, kind, talented a–and everything. Frankly, you’re my favourite person,” 

Are you in love with me? Because I’m in love with you too. You wanted to spill that out of your mouth, vomit your inner thoughts and feelings that you held in for so long, wishing you could make it clear to him how you actually feel and stop yourself from continuously confusing everything. What did he mean by all of that? Was it a casual compliment? To you, none of that was casual and normal. What kind of signals was he trying to give? 

“Thank you,” you were breathless, simply because you were barely breathing and you had been holding your breath in ever since the start of his rant. “Y–you’re amazing too, really. Nobody could ever amount to you … you’re my one and only,” was this a suitable time and place to confess your undying love for him, your childhood best friend that you had feelings for? In this airport filled with athletes, being in the city of love, with the clock ticking down to 11:11, you were about to do the unthinkable that you’ve been overthinking for countless nights. “I have something to say, actually. Sunghoon, I actually am in—”

“Guys! Time to gather and board!”

F.M.L.

“What is it?” Sunghoon stared at you expectantly, eyebrows raised in suspense with a slight frown at the sudden interruption. You, on the other hand, were left with your mouth agape, confession cut short and the perfect timing that you deduced ended up being in vain. There was no way that this was reality. “Y/N?”

“I–I’ll tell you another day. We have to board,” you gripped onto the strap of your backpack tight enough to drain the blood from your knuckles. The disappointment was on par with the times you lost your lead. 

“Is it something important?”

“Well, sort of? I guess it is,”

“Then you better remember to tell me when you’re ready, okay?” he wagged his finger at you, smiling softly as if he had noticed the drop in your face and was trying to assure you somehow.

“I will. Let’s get going now.” you patted his back, nodding over at the counter where the athletes were getting their tickets scanned and managing to divert his attention away. 

‘I’m in love with you’. It’s simple and straightforward, there’s nothing hard about it for you to say, but why couldn’t you tell him that? Even when you tried to do so, it ended up being in a pile of mess, leaving you dejected in the end. 

Since when has loving your best friend become so hard? You’ve been doing it for the majority of your life, the only difference was that you were aware that it’s romantic now, so what’s stopping you? Time? Or was it yourself? Maybe it's the fear of vulnerability that feels so heavy. Every shared laugh, every secret whispered in the dark, suddenly carries the weight of possibility. What if these feelings are too big to fit within the bounds of friendship? And yet, isn't love, in all its forms, worth the risk?  

You were scared, scared of losing the person you just got back and also the possibility of loving someone who knew your strengths and weaknesses too well.

“You never told me he tried to hit on you while we were there,”

It was the third day of your one week trip back to your hometown with Sunghoon. After the last two days of being stuck with your own families and having to entertain relatives who were too inquisitive, you and him finally got the chance to hang out together without any prying eyes. Getting out of the city once you were done with your public appearances was the perfect plan, it didn’t take Sunghoon long before sending you a text telling you to pack your bags. If only he knew how relieved you felt seeing him pull up to your house like prince charming coming to save the day.

Sunghoon wasn’t kidding when he mentioned about revisiting your secret hideout. It was right after dinner, the sun had set and the wind was cooler, Sunghoon’s jacket was wrapped around your body despite his constant nagging.   The night sky was littered with constellations of stars above you and Sunghoon, the two of you were sitting on the swings, the park was mostly empty except for a few lingering figures.  

“I didn’t think it’s important,” you muttered, holding onto the swing that you’ve sat on ever since you were only a kid, specifically the right swing while Sunghoon occupied the left. 

“It is! It’s literally Thomas Ceccon. He’s Italian, tall and hot…” Sunghoon trailed off at the sight of you staring at him with an expression of deadpan, clearly unimpressed.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush instead,”

Sunghoon pressed his lips into a thin line, sighing out a rather loud and big breath. “Whatever. What I’m trying to say is … it’s just frustrating, okay? I mean, I’ve heard some things about him before that tells me he isn’t the best person. It’s like he thinks he has a chance or something. You don’t even need that kind of attention. You’re way too good for him,” he shifted his gaze, unable to look at you head-on. 

You searched for his wandering eyes, the shock you experienced from his words and the harshness in his tone that you would seldom hear gave you a slight whiplash. Was he …? Could it be? Jealousy? There was no way, or so you thought whenever you tried to convince yourself that your feelings were one-sided. The small hope burning internally sparked brighter, though the fear of letting yourself down if the truth turned out to be the opposite of what you wanted lingered. “You worry too much. I don’t think about him that way. I … have someone else in mind anyway,”

“You do?” his spine straightened immediately, head almost getting snapped from his neck at how quick he turned towards you, eyebrows raised so high they were almost touching his hairline. 

You nodded, strangely calm and collected, unlike the usual jitters that you’d experienced around him whenever you’re close to revealing the truth. “Someone who gets me, who knows how to make me laugh. Someone who sees me for who I really am,” you paused, your gaze steady. “But I guess he’s just too oblivious to notice,”

Silence was what followed after, the suspenseful tension turning thicker by the minute. You watched his expressions being scrunched up in deep thought then changing into a mix of confusion that eventually morphed into realisation where he might begin to piece the little things together. “What—no—are you … trying to say—”

“Forget it,” you blurted out, standing up from the swing, feeling your heart burning from your own fear and avoidant. You were close, so agonisingly close and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to face the possibilities of the aftermath. It was always you who chose to break your heart first.   

“No, tell me,” Sunghoon got a hold of your wrist before you could get the chance to walk away, following you suit to stand and facing you straight, never once breaking his gaze that was locked onto yours. You were startled from the grip he had on you, the intensity he had in his eyes felt almost palpable, as if he were searching for the words that had lodged themselves in his throat. “Tell me, am I the oblivious one? Is that what you think? Because I’ve been feeling like I’m walking on eggshells around you, afraid to say what I really want. If you’re hinting at something, just say it. I can’t keep pretending I don’t care or be completely sane when I see some sleazy swimmer trying to approach you, it drives me crazy,” 

The heat of his gaze burned through the air between you and him, a mixture of vulnerability and determination that made it hard to look away. Every emotion he felt flickered across his features—fear, longing, and an urgent need for you to understand. It was as if, in that moment, the world around you and him faded, leaving only the raw connection pulsing in the space between your breaths.

“Please, just tell me,” he urged, his voice low and urgent after seeing your silence. “I need to know if I’m the one you’re talking about or if I’ve been chasing shadows all this time. Because if there’s even a chance you mean me, then I can’t just let this go,” He stepped closer, vulnerability etched on his face. “I’ve been scared to say anything, afraid of ruining what we have. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something more. So, just… say it. Please.”

“Do you really want to know?” you took a breath, your heart racing, knowing you were putting whatever it was about your friendship on the line. “Because if I say it, things might change between us. You’re my best friend … and I just can’t lose you like this,”

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, evidently frustrated but trying his best to understand your fears. He could see right through you, you and him were alike in many ways, it didn’t take long for him to realise you were scared of losing him again, because to him, that was his fear too. “God, I hate that word,”

“‘Lose’?”

“‘Friend’,” Sunghoon practically spat out, the word alone was laced with distaste, his chest heaving. He took a step closer, his legs were feeling heavy, the weight pressing onto his chest was becoming apparent. You didn’t budge even when his hands travelled to your face, palms rested on both sides of your cheeks. “Can’t you see? I’ve laid my heart out for you,”

“Then let’s stop pretending,” you said, your voice was quiet but steady despite the storm in your heart. “It’s you, Sunghoon. It’s always been you. I’ve tried to ignore it, to push it aside because I didn’t want to risk what we have. But every time I’m with you, it’s like nothing else matters. I’m scared too—terrified of losing you, but I can’t hide my feelings anymore. You mean so much more to me than just a friend,” you poured out every single undying confession that you had hid as if your life depended on it, desperation and pining was overwhelming you as time passed. “I’m in love with you, Sunghoon, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved you,” 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper shimmering in his gaze, he froze for a moment, his breath hitching as your words sank in. A rush of emotions flickered across his face—shock, disbelief, and then a dawning realisation that made his heart race. He searched your eyes, looking for confirmation, as if needing to ensure that this wasn’t some beautiful dream. A smile broke through the haze of confusion, a mix of relief and joy. “I’m glad … because I’ve never once stopped loving you either,”

For a heartbeat, the world around you and him seemed to pause, your confession hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting your hearts. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, he closed the distance between the two of you even further, his hand remained gently cradling your face.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. You felt your pulse quicken, anticipation and fear intertwining as you still couldn’t believe this was actually happening. With a softness that took your breath away, he pressed his lips to yours. It was a tentative kiss at first, filled with all the unspoken words you and him both had held back for too long. But as you melted into each other, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more passionate, as if you and him were finally allowing yourselves to feel everything you had been denying.

In that moment, the weight of your fears and the uncertainty of the past faded away, leaving only the electric connection between you and Sunghoon, igniting a fire that had always been there, waiting for this moment to finally ignite.

It was unmistakable, the feeling of his smile against your lips, the same smile that you had kept in your mind ever since you were merely kids. Your best friend, your lover, was undeniably your soulmate, the boy who you’ve loved since you were merely a kid had returned to your life as if it was fated for it to happen. 

The smile was still present on his face even after he pulled away, the look in his eyes was enough to convey every emotion that he had. Foreheads resting against each other, breathless and overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened, Sunghoon’s eyes searched yours, a mix of wonder and disbelief lingering in the air between the both of you. He looked at you with such love, adoration and admiration as if you were his world, unaware how full his heart truly was. 

“You know, that day at the airport, remember the important thing I wanted to tell you?” you were the first to break the silence, hands resting on each of his shoulders, mainly for support knowing your knees were getting weaker as you continued to process what had just happened. 

“I do,”

“I actually wanted to confess to you about how I feel,”

“Really? In the middle of the airport? L/N, you never fail to amuse me,” Sunghoon chuckled, his thumb caressing the expanse of your cheek. Another choke of laughter was pulled out from him when you attempted to land a punch on him.

“Hey! I thought it was a good setting, the vibes were telling me so,”

His smile only widened, there was a sense of softness that he had in his eyes whenever he was around you, this was one of those instances. “I think I wouldn’t have made it onto that flight if you pulled that on me. We would’ve never made it home,”

“You’re right. It really would’ve been quite disastrous, wouldn’t it? I never thought about the entire outcome,”

“I wouldn’t complain spending a longer time in Paris with you,” he removed his forehead from yours, his features becoming much clearer under the glow of the streetlight. His expression softened, a seriousness returning as he took your hands in his. “This feels right. We’ve been more than just friends for a while now, haven’t we? ”

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart swelling with hope as you recalled every little, detailed moment with Sunghoon that made you rethink your life choices. “It really does, ”

A moment of silence hung between you and him, filled with the promise of something new and exciting. “So… what do we do now?” you asked, a playful grin on your lips, eager to explore this new chapter together as you always did with him for most parts of your life.

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your hand. “Well, I guess we figure it out together. No more hiding, right?”

“Right.” you agreed, your smile widening as you stepped into the unknown, hand in hand, ready to embrace whatever came next. 

Under that night sky which you and Sunghoon had shared and walked under all your life, the two of you spent the rest of your time in that park in each others’ presence, the air around had changed undoubtedly, but you and him were still the same, there was nothing that could possibly change when it came to the two of you. 

The stars were shining brighter than usual, the moon was round and illuminated, the endless possibilities were now unfolding before you. With every shared laugh and whispered secret, the world around you felt alive, filled with promise and the magic of new beginnings. As you walked side by side, fingers intertwined, it was clear that this moment was just the beginning of a new path you’d be taking with him.

Under that vast expanse, you realised that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had each other—two hearts that had always been drawn together. In the quiet of the night, surrounded by the glow of the universe, you felt a warmth blooming between you, a certainty that whatever the future held, you would face it together, side by side.

Two months. 

That was how long it had been since that night you and Sunghoon got together officially, ending the lengthy and obvious tension that existed way before you and him became friends again. Since then, many things have changed and happened. Sunghoon had returned to train under his original coach, the team’s success was celebrated by the nation from the point you’ve returned from the Olympics and praise has yet to stop in the tabloid with the additional excitement for the swimming world cup. Not only that, you revealed your relationship with Sunghoon to friends and family, receiving exciting screams and some ‘I knew it’ that you should’ve known was coming. Everything was finally perfectly in place. 

Fast forward to the present day, you couldn’t believe you were actually standing on top of the world. It was the last day of the final stop of the world cup, the aggregate points from all three separate stops were counted to determine the top three male and female swimmers. Safe to say, ever since the Olympics, your drive for success only came out stronger. It was your determination and headstrong personality that drove you past your limits to emerge as the champion of the world cup. 

Walking out to the stage and accepting the medal was a surreal experience, you wished someone was there to pinch you and remind you none of it was a dream. Never once in the course of the past weeks have you expected yourself to come out in first place with the highest points. Here you were, standing on stage with your fellow swimmers, facing the fans and giving your speeches, proving yet again that you were indeed the ‘national treasure’.

At the thought of that name, your attention averted towards the stands, scanning through everyone to find the person that you’ve been wishing to see most. Instead, a big sign that read ‘MY GF’S A WORLD CHAMPION’ caught your eyes, the person that was holding onto it peeked out from behind the sign, revealing his true identity, bringing an amused smile onto your face. Park Sunghoon, your boyfriend who has forfeited the last stop for the sake of his health, had never once missed a single event that you were in. You dared to say that he was your biggest supporter, not only for this instance, but for the majority of your life.

As your eyes locked onto Sunghoon’s, the noise of the crowd faded into a soft hum, leaving only the warmth of his smile and the fluttering in your heart. You didn’t need him close to feel his warmth, you could tell from the pride and affection hidden in his eyes that you were about to get the biggest hug when he got his hands on you. You raised a hand, waving enthusiastically, and he responded with a playful flourish of the sign, drawing laughter from those around him. 

In that moment, everything felt right. The adrenaline from your win mixed with the comfort of his unwavering support, filling you with utmost comfort that you needed all along, making every sore limb and painful nights worth it. Even if you were out there alone, you knew, in the midst of every crowd, there always would be someone present, cheering for you no matter what the circumstances were.

That person would be Sunghoon. The man who you would call your best friend, your confidant, but also your lover. It might’ve taken a while to struggle past your differences and misunderstandings, yet, you managed against the tides washing over you and him, building a bond that surpassed everything. Not only was there trust and admiration, but an unmeasurable kind of love was formed. It would be eternal, an everlasting love that couldn’t be washed away, leaving you and him together for as long as you lived.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wet & Wild

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me

word count: 4.0k

masterlist

“Swimmers…”

You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.

“Take your marks…”

There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.

“GO!”

You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.

As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…

“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.

“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.

You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.

“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”

It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.

“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”

“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”

Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.

You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.

“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.

“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”

You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.

“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.

“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”

“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.

“That.”

Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.

“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.

“Good luck.”

You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.

The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.

Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.

“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”

Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.

“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.

“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”

“You play?”

“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo. 

“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”

“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.” you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”

You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.

Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.

You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.

“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”

You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.

“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”

And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you. 

“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..

“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.

“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.

“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”

Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.

“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I lost.”

He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.

“So?”

He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.

“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”

Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.

“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”

“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”

“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”

“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”

“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”

You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.

“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”

“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”

You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.

“Did Tashi tell you that?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.

“It’s the truth.” he answered.

You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.

“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”

“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.

“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.

“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.

“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”

Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.

“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”

Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.

“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”

He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.

“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”

“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.

“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”

You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.

Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.

You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.

You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.

You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.

“We can’t do this here.”

Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.

“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.

“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”

He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.

“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.

“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”

You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.

“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.

“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.

“You know I’m right.”

Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.

“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”

“I can’t see you before then?”

You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.

“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”

You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.

part two out now!!!

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🌊] DISCIPLINE: SWIMMING

PAIRING: swimmer!mingyu x swimmer!fem reader GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers(ish), idiots that doesn't realise the other one is in love with them too, mingyu is a tease but also down bad WARNINGS: the reader gets hurt (hits her head, nothing too descriptive), mingyu is a hottie WORD COUNT: 3k

SYNOPSIS: what will it take for you and mingyu to finally understand that you're literally meant to be?

natalia's note: @wonijinjin the broad back and bulging biceps are for you

“i can’t do this anymore.” 

mingyu's words hit you like a speeding train. 

you quickly lifted your head from where you were looking at your fingers splashing the water, facing your best friend. 

“w-what?” you asked, horrified. “what do you mean?” 

his shoulders dropped, causing the water to ripple around your bodies, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you wouldn’t like what he was about to say next. 

“i can’t do this anymore. i can’t watch you lose again and again,” he sighed, and dived under the red lane line, emerging a second later right next to you. “it’s,” he took a breath, “heartbreaking.” 

with how close he was to you now you didn’t have a choice but to look up, which was stupid because come on - you were in the water. a wole ass swimming pool. like, he could literally submerge himself a little bit more and you’d be eye level, but no. kim mingyu had to flash everyone in the damn room with his godly sculptured chest and shoulders. 

you mentally scolded yourself for losing the last ounces of your dignity over a man, because why was it so hard for you to peel your eyes off his pecs? and a quiet voice inside your head was telling you that mingyu didn’t do this by accident - he knew how it affected you. but it shouldn’t. you were best friends after all. 

and best friends didn’t look at each other’s chests. and wide shoulders. and bulging biceps. 

“then stop being such a bitch, kim mingyu,” you cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the purple “paris 2024” banners over his head. “if it’s breaking your heart then that’s your problem, not mine.”  

mingyu rolled his eyes, and quickly lifted his hand to splash water at you, making you shriek. what a shame god didn’t bless you with quicker reflexes, so you could cover your eyes at least. it was funny how people used to tell your coach that it would be for the best to split your training sessions because you didn’t get on well with each other, while in reality you got on well a bit too much. 

“uh, excuse moi?” you cringed at his horrible attempt to speak french, “you’re calling the three time world champion and two time olympic gold medalist a bitch?” he put his hand over his heart. 

“then why don’t you want to race with me anymore?” you practically whined. “are you afraid of getting beaten by a girl? would that do damage to your reputation in the olympic village?” you giggled at his unamused stare. “i’m sure the gymnasts would be very disappointed to find out you’re not as big and strong as they thought,” you pouted at him, mockingly. 

“i told you baby, i don’t want to see you lose again, simple as that” mingyu put his hand on your shoulder. “can’t you race against ava or liv?” 

you weren’t sure if it was better to go underwater or to call for the medics at this point. this infuriatingly hot man just called you baby for god’s sake and he had his hand placed so close to your neck it felt as if he was cradling it. luckly you could blame the cold water for your shivering. the worst part - you were 99% sure you saw him make out with alexa before going to paris, so all of the sweet words and gentle touches were platonic. 

they meant nothing. 

which… were you even surprised? the hottest guy making out with the hottest girl on the team. both multiple champions. both insanely talented. 

still, you wouldn’t give up, and that definitely wasn’t because of your delusions that you could pull the hottest and the best swimmer on the continent, but because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“you’re not fooling me, kim mingyu. i think you’re just scared of me beating you.” 

he scoffed, and finally lowered himself into the water. thank heavens. “okay then. what do you say about one last race to finish this training off?” mingyu said, and sent you a challenging look, which he knew would rile you up even more. 

“deal,” you shook his extended hand. “but don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“as you wish, my queen,” he bowed his head, and snickered. “but-,” 

“no buts,” you cut him off. 

“ah, ah,” he pointed a finger at you. “if you lose you have to take a bath in the seine.” 

sometimes you wondered why exactly you had a crush on him because stuff like these reminded you he was only a man. more like a man-child, but that was if you wanted to be nitpicky. 

“that’s illegal, you moron.” 

you swore you’d drown him one of these days.

with the goggles over your eyes you swam under the lane line to have a whole lane for yourself, because there was no way you’d fit in one lane with mingyu. 

“okay champ, let’s see-,” suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“je suis désolé, mais tu dois sortir de l'eau. les préparatifs pour la course vont bientôt commencer,” one of the volunteers was crouching by the edge of the pool with his hand outstretched in your direction. 

“uh,” you shot mingyu a quick look, “i’m sorry, je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand. the only french you managed to learn before coming to paris, which you figured would come in handy, and as it turned out - it did. a point for you. 

“the competition,” the guy scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “begin soon.” 

“do you want us to get out of the pool?” mingyu asked, pointing at him and you and then the outside of the pool. 

“yes, yes,” the volunteer nodded quickly. 

well, you could wave your race bye bye. 

maybe the universe didn’t want you and mingyu together, maybe all you were destined to be was friends? besides, one silly race wouldn’t make a difference, if anything, it would probably lead to you pulling a muscle, which would mean a big disaster with your eliminations right around the corner. 

your fate was to end up alone for the rest of your life, crying over a guy you could never have. typical. 

“shit,” mingyu sighed, taking off his goggles. “i really wanted to race you.” 

you sent him a quick smile, dismissing his teasing tone. the quicker you’d realise this wouldn’t work out the better for your poor heart. 

“yeah, that’s a bummer,” you said, grabbing onto the edge of the pool to pull yourself up. 

mingyu grinded his teeth and side eyed the volunteer. if it weren't for the dozens of people around you who were clearly starting to prepare for the race, he would have thrown the guy into the water with his own bare hands. 

“thanks for being a cockblock, dude.”

well, not literally, but this had to be the first time mingyu managed to talk to you without stuttering every other word and not acting that embarrassing. but no. someone had to sweep in and take this away from him. 

“be careful,” mingyu ran a hand over his face, and looked over to you, “the tiles might be slippery.” 

“you don’t say,” you said, and shot him a glare. “im not that-.” 

but before you could finish your sentence one of your hands slipped and you lost the grip, splashing back into the pool. 

“hey, hey,” mingyu immediately swam up to you, closing the gap between your bodies in seconds. “are you okay?” he put his arm around your waist, turning you around in his grip so you’d face him. 

shit.

“did you hit your head?” he asked quickly, taking off your cap. fuck, mingyu felt his lunch creeping back into his throat. if anything happened to you… 

“mhm, i think so,” you answered, disoriented. your vision was clearly unsteady and you were shaking in his embrace, though he didn’t know if that was due to the cold water or the hit. 

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hand gently over your head to look for any cuts or bruises. “we need to get you out of the water.” 

you nodded your head slowly, but that was a bad call, because it only made you more nauseous and made your vision even worse. 

“hey, don’t move. put your other arm around my neck and hold onto me,” mingyu said. 

“but i’m heavy.” 

“shut it or i’ll leave you here,” mingyu grumbled, and tightened his hold around you. 

with ease, as if he was born in the water, mingyu managed to get you to the edge of the pool with ladders, and called for help.

“i’m such a loser,” you mumbled, resting your head against his shoulder. “almost passing out in the middle of an olympic swimming pool,” you let out a bitter laugh, before whimpering. maybe making bad jokes right after almost cracking your skull open wasn’t a good idea. 

mingyu didn’t say anything but you could feel his body tense. 

“she hit her head on the tiles,” he said once the medics made their way over to you. 

they quickly helped him get you out of the water without causing you more pain and laid you on the stretcher. the medics whispered something between them, or maybe you were just so out of it that you couldn’t understand what they were saying, but you could clearly make out mingyu’s voice in between. 

suddenly, you felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, but your blurry vision made it impossible for you to see what exactly was going on. 

“min-mingyu?” you called out. 

“i’m here baby, don’t worry,” mingyu said, and reached for your hand, grasping it tightly so you’d know he was really right there next to you. 

“stop calling me that,” you said, your tone bossy as usual. 

“stop calling you what?” mingyu couldn’t help but giggle when he heard you scoff. good, that meant you weren’t that badly hurt. 

“baby.” 

“what if i don’t want to?” he asked, and ran a thumb over the back of your hand, smiling to himself when he felt your fingers wrap tighter around his.  

you shook your head, or at least you tried to. “then i’ll race you and if i win you’ll stop.” 

“you know i won’t let that happen,” he said softly. 

“stop messing with my heart, kim mingyu.” 

a champion, an olympics medalist, a man made of steel, and still, mingyu felt like he was melting under your gaze. your big eyes looking up at him, your soft lips parted in a slight gasp, your gentle fingers holding onto him for dear life…  

“i won’t,” he shook his head. “not until you stop messing with mine.” 

as it turned out, luckily for you, the impact didn’t cause much damage. “it caused panic more than anything else,” the doctor said. 

“so i’ll be able to race on monday, right?” you asked, twisting the rings around your fingers nervously. the olympics were something you sacrificed your whole life for - you couldn’t remember the last time you slept in, the last time you ate dinner with your family, the last time you had time for yourself, and if all of that would go to waste because of a stupid mistake… you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“don’t worry, you’ll be just fine for the race. i think your boyfriend overreacted a bit out there,” the doctor laughed. “maybe more than a bit.” 

you almost choked on the pills you were swallowing, your face burning with heat. the doctor feeding into your delusions was a big no no, and you definitely did not need that right now. 

“you might want to text him though, he was sitting outside the whole time we were running tests. had to send him back to the village,” he sighed, “he looked like a kicked puppy.” 

that was dangerous, and you needed to get out of there quickly. 

mingyu, on the other hand, couldn’t stop worrying. after the doctor sent him off, he didn’t really know what to do with himself, and he definitely didn’t know how he ended up sitting in front of the door to your room. 

god, he was being so pathetic. instead of telling you how and what he felt, he was acting like a lame highschooler trying to impress you with what? being a faster swimmer? mingyu was never good at flirting but this had to be his lowest low. 

„gyu? what are you doing here?” his head shot up, and there you were - safe and sound. no bandages, nothing. for the first time since he got out of that damn swimming pool he took in a deep, proper breath. 

“the doctor he, um…,” 

“i know.” 

“you know?”

“i know,” you nodded. why did he look so nervous all of a sudden? “shouldn’t you be at the gym? preparing for tomorrow?” 

right. the race. 

“i probably should,” more than “probably” to be honest. your trainer would most likely have killed him already if not for the fact that he was the best swimmer on the team. “but i needed to know that you were okay.” 

“you could’ve just texted, you know,” you said. why was he being so… un-mingyu?

he shook his head, and stood up to his full 6 feet 2. “let me put it this way,” he took a step towards you, “i needed to see if you were okay.”

was he really about to risk your whole friendship? all this time spent on getting to know you, your likes and dislikes, what annoyed you and how he could push your buttons to see that bright smile on your face that always made his day a bit better. he didn’t want to lose all of that. 

but… mingyu felt his hands reaching out for you on their own to make sure that you weren’t in pain anymore, to kiss any bump or scratch to make it better, to hold you close to his chest this evening and keep you safe from all the wet tiles. 

“listen,” he scratched the back of his neck. he needed to do something with his hands. “i have to tell you one thing, and please just let me say it because i don’t think i’ll have enough courage to say it ever again.” 

you nodded your head, your gaze slightly confused. 

it was now or never. 

“okay, so i know we’re technically only friends from work, but not really since we hang out otherwise, and we’ve known each other for how long now? three years? and that’s great, i love training with you, and going to competitions with you, and hanging out with you, but lately… or not lately, really. for a long time-,” 

„mingyu,” you sighed, but the boy kept on rambling. „min,” you tried again, to no avail. „gyu!” 

finally, the man in front of you fell silent, looking at you with eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“i,” you took a deep breath. you knew exactly where this was going. „i can’t do this right now,” you said, and watched the spark in mingyu’s eyes die out. “with what happened today, and the eliminations tomorrow… i just can’t deal with this right now,” god, this broke your heart. “i need some rest, and i need some sleep,” you added. “besides, i also have the relay tomorrow, so i need to focus. this is not only about me, but about the girls. i can’t let them down.”   

mingyu’s heart dropped. if he knew this would end like this, then why was he feeling so disappointed? but he couldn’t be mad at you, no. it wasn’t your fault you weren’t feeling the same, and it definitely wasn’t your fault for wanting some rest. the olympics meant so much to you, and he knew how excited you were for them - he wouldn’t take that happiness away from you. 

„of-of course,” mingyu said, though his voice, his body language, his gaze - his everything, screamed anything but „of course”. he nodded his head and shrugged. „i’ll see you later then.”

you quickly grabbed his arm before he could turn around. „gyu,” you said. „i can’t deal with this now, but i never said i couldn’t deal with this ever.” 

he was so cute, you couldn’t help but hide your smile behind your hand. with slightly dishevelled hair (probably from running his fingers through them too much), un-matching shirt and pants, which you were sure were from last season, and his mingyu smile that showed off his canines… you’d have to be stupid and blind not to have a massive crush on this man. 

„r-really?” 

you nodded your head.

“maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?” you said, and slid your hand down his arm to his hand. “after the eliminations?” 

mingyu looked down wide-eyed at your hand holding his. was this really happening? maybe he was the one to hit his head? his poor heart and fuzzy brain couldn’t actually believe that the girl he had been pining after for god knows how long was actually saying that… that she liked him back? huh, if this was a dream he hoped he’d never wake up. 

“yes,” he breathed. “we can do that.” 

“great,” you smiled, and mingyu felt his heart skip a beat. “you’ll be watching me tomorrow, right?”

“you know i will,” mingyu said, squeezing your hand, and this - your hand in his - this felt right. this was right, and this was how it was always supposed to be. “i always do.” 

and then he did something that almost knocked you off your feet. 

he quickly closed the gap between you, pushing your body gently against the door behind you, and placed a soft peck on your cheek. you almost didn’t notice how his strong arm had snuck around you, holding your waist in a featherlight touch that didn’t quite match his strong hands and big biceps, or how the other one cradled the side of your face, and how his thumb stroked your cheek. almost.

and it was only a kiss on the cheek. 

“good luck, baby.”

[whowritessometimes]

Back and Forth - Art Donaldson x Reader

A Stanford!Art Donaldson and Stanford!Reader fic :) Kinda slow burn, very soft very sweet.

Word Count: 3.9k

---

The California summer sun beamed down on the court, making the colors of the advertisements and signs around you appear almost neon. Upbeat music flowed through speakers that you couldn't quite place, embodying the feeling of the tennis matches that surrounded you, the back-and-forth beat pulsating through your head. It was almost overstimulating, but this was your normal.

You were pre-med at Stanford, volunteering at some local tennis camp to fill your summer and add fodder to your resume. You didn't do much, occasionally helping some rich, pompous kid stretch out their wrist, or their knee, or their ankle, or whatever. The days blurred together, they all spoke to you in the same condescending way. For most people, it would be mind-numbing.

But it was exhilarating. You had this intrinsic love for tennis, you always had. Perhaps it was that love that led you to signing up for this gig, and not the resume experience. But you would never admit that to anyone. You had played tennis for fun your whole life, with your family growing up, with your friends in high school. It was only when you shattered your wrist sophomore year that you had to stop.

It sucked. It sucked at the time, and it sucked now. You weren't professional-level at tennis, not like these people, but it was nice to have a hobby unlike anything else people expected you to do. The pre-med thing, the reading, the studying, it came naturally to you. And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, and it wasn't like you weren't good at it, but you loved tennis. And every now and again, you missed it.

So here you were. Your head followed all the heads in the crowd in a practiced, synchronized, subconscious back-and-forth. There wasn't really ever a crowd, the games at the program were often informal, the audience often consisted of coaches and other players. But this was a unique match, Stanford's players engaged in a captivating display of athleticism. It was almost like a dance, the way they seemed to know the moves of the other before they made them. You could feel the intensity from your tent by the end of the bleachers.

Stanford's star player (well, one of them)—Art Donaldson. You'd half-watched him play from your tent whenever you weren't working. He was elusive, but undoubtably one of the best there. You had never spoken. He was enigmatic, focused on his training and on helping others. He had perfect technique, people said. Now, you had the chance to really see how he was. And he was. Top of his game.

Usually.

The air was thick with humidity. Your gaze flickered between the players, boredom warring with the gnawing anxiety that always hummed beneath the surface during matches. Then, a sound sliced through the rhythmic thwack of the tennis balls—a sharp cry of pain.

Your head snapped left like a whip, your heart leaping into your throat. There, sprawled on the opposite side of the net, lay Art. His face was contorted in agony, one hand clutching his ankle at an unnatural angle. His racket lay a few feet away, as forgotten as the polite pleasantries that had filled the air before the match.

The shitty plastic chair beneath you creaked in protest as you scrambled to your feet. Ignoring the surprised yelp from the equally shitty excuse for a supervisor you'd been assigned for the summer tennis program, you sprinted across the court. Dust billowed in your wake, blurring the vision that was already swimming with a mix of dread and the adrenaline rush that always came with seeing someone hurt.

You skidded to a halt beside him, kneeling. His eyes, usually bright with playful competitiveness, were screwed shut, teeth clenched as he fought back a string of obscenities you knew all too well.

"Hey," you said, forcing your voice to remain calm despite the tremor running through your body. He flinched at the sound of your voice, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing his normally confident expression.

"Hey," he managed to rasp out, opening one eye a sliver. He tried to push himself up, but his face crumpled again as a fresh wave of agony shot through him.

"Don't move," you ordered, the calmness in your voice surprising even you. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was slick with sweat, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from his injured ankle.

"'S bad, huh?" he breathed, a flicker of vulnerability in his voice.

The concern in his eyes sent a jolt through you. It wasn't just the pain; it was the fear.

"Don't worry," you said, your voice softer now, "We'll get you checked out. Just...hold still."

Ignoring the sting of sweat in your eyes, you carefully slipped your arm around his waist, offering what little support your slight frame could provide. Heaving him halfway onto your leg, you began the slow, agonizing walk towards the medical tent. Each step sent a spike of pain through Art's leg, reflected in the way he gritted his teeth and winced with every movement.

The supervisor, finally spurred into action, scurried behind you, muttering something about ice packs and paramedics. But your focus remained solely on Art, on getting him to help as quickly as possible.

You knew what it was like. Maybe that's what spurred your immediate action, your need to help him recover, to keep playing. You knew what it was like.

The antiseptic sting of the medical tent assaulted your nose as you hovered beside the injured player. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he clenched his jaw with each prod from the trainer.

"Think they all saw that?" he finally rasped, a hint of amusement battling the pain in his voice. You blinked, surprised by his oddly timed humor.

"Doubt it," you played along, a small smile tugging at your lips. "'S not like you're Art Donaldson or anything."

A sheepish grin replaced his grimace. "Thank god."

The trainer finished his work, leaving you and the injured player alone in a tense silence. He cleared his throat, his gaze meeting yours for the first time.

"So," he began, trailing off as he stared into the ceiling of the tent. There was something in his expression, the physical pain, the fear that comes with injury, the odd quiet of an unfinished game.

"So," you mimicked, sitting next to him in another shitty chair.

Something hung in the air, something all too familiar to you. He turned his head to look at you, to make eye contact, keeping his body flat on the cot. You realized then how close you were. Close enough to see his eyes, the sharp point of his jawline, the strawberry blond of his curls.

You averted your gaze, looking out into the brightness of the tent entrance. The typical ambiance of the outside seemed to be drowned by the odd intimacy you'd created together, the silence between you and Art seemed to be the only noise you could hear. His shoddy breathing, despite his attempts to pretend he was okay, only brought you back to when you felt the same way he did, all those years ago.

A blush crept up your neck. You fumbled for something, anything, to break the charged silence in the tent. "I, uh, broke my wrist sophomore year," you blurted, surprised by the words leaving your lips. "Tennis, ironically. One minute I'm playing—probably terribly—and then I'm in the ER holding a bag of frozen peas. And, I don't know, I guess I'm just saying... I get it. Sort of."

"You trying to distract me?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you admitted, a hesitant smile mirroring his. "Is it working?"

"Yeah, actually," he conceded, leaning back on the cot. "Tell me more."

You felt a genuine laugh bubble up from your chest, the first since the moment you saw him crumpled on the court.

---

And that was really the last time you saw Art. Suffice to say you hadn't forgotten about the encounter. It was actually stupid, how often you thought of it. He didn't even know your name, but you remembered the timbre of his voice, the softness of his gaze.

In your defense, he was hard to avoid. Now that the spring semester had started, tennis season was in full swing. His picture was plastered around the most of the facilities you frequented, future NCAA champion Art Donaldson.

The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming jasmine hung heavy in the crisp California air as you hurried across the bustling Stanford campus. The semester had sprung with a vengeance, bringing with it the usual flurry of activity—overloaded backpacks, animated discussions about last night's party, and the ever-present anxiety of looming deadlines.

Today, however, an extra weight sat on your shoulders. Your pre-med advisor dropped a last-minute surprise: mandatory tutoring for a struggling athlete. Juggling med school coursework with a part-time job at the campus health center was already a tightrope walk, and adding this felt like a precarious extra step. But you managed it, as you did most things. How you had some semblance of a social life was a mystery. And maybe your very obvious lack of a love life was why you thought about Art so often. You didn't have time to psychoanalyze yourself, though. You barely had time for whatever this tutoring session was about to be.

Reaching the designated classroom, a small, windowless space usually reserved for last-minute group study sessions, you took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy door. The sterile light inside momentarily blinded you, but as your eyes adjusted, a sight unfolded that caused your breath to hitch in your throat. Sprawled across a cluttered table, papers piled haphazardly around him, was a man who you'd spent the better part of the last few months thinking about.

There, unmistakably, was Art. His signature strawberry blond hair, slightly longer than you remembered, covered with a backwards baseball cap, curled at the edges, framing his face. A deep furrow creased his brow, a testament to the frustration radiating from his hunched form as he focused on a massive biology textbook. An unsettling warmth bloomed in your chest, a reaction entirely too potent for a tutoring session.

The memory of him sprawled on the opposite side of the tennis court last summer, his ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, flickered across your mind. The panic that had gripped you then seemed almost comical now. The sterile environment and the way his eyes had held a curious blend of pain and something else—gratitude, maybe?—all formed a vivid memory you hadn't realized had imprinted itself so deeply.

His presence filled the small room, unexpectedly stealing your breath and injecting a jolt of something entirely different into the monotonous routine of your day. A shyness spread across your face, tinged with an unfamiliar nervousness as you cleared your throat, the sound echoing awkwardly in the sudden silence.

A slow smile took over his features as he looked at you, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you were caught in that smile, a memory resurfacing from the hazy days of summer.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm. He reached a toned arm, pulling out a chair for you.

"Hi," you blinked, momentarily flustered by the gesture and the echo of familiarity in his voice. There was a moment of tension in the air, of uncertainty, of a strange sense of reconnection. Finally, you managed to force out the words, "How are you?"

"My ankle's a lot better now, if that's what you're asking," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, making you hyperaware of the way your heart hammered against your ribs.

"You remember me?" you blurted out, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it.

"Course I remember you," he said, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn't ignore the way his eyes flickered from your face down to your body, and back up. Blatantly checking you out. And you could hear his smile in the way he spoke, warm and genuine, sending a familiar flutter through your stomach. The memory of his teasing laughter in the sterile medical tent resurfaced.

"Right," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You shifted in your chair, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of his gaze on you.

The next hour or so unfolded in a way that surprised you both. Art's initial confusion melted away as you hovered next to him, animatedly explaining each concept. Social life, love life, Art Donaldson, you couldn't explain. Biology, medical stuff, sports, you understood.

And he was beginning to as well. Time became a forgotten entity, measured only by the turning of pages and the occasional frustrated groan from Art. He wasn't the cocky athlete you'd half-imagined, but someone with a genuine curiosity about the world around him and some kind of depth hidden beneath his confident facade on the court.

Finally, Art leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "We should probably call it," he declared, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. He thanked you, looking into your eyes as he said your name, the syllables dancing off his tongue in a way that made you feel like it was more than a word you had offhandedly mentioned to him.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

The study sessions became a regular occurrence. The two of you exchanged numbers, only to arrange meetings, you reminded yourself.

But whenever he called, you found yourself talking about so much more than biology. It started with him asking how you were, a simple courtesy that somehow felt more genuine coming from him. Yet, as you replied, a comfortable ease would settle in. You'd find yourself laughing at inside jokes, dumb stories, the kind that wouldn't be particularly funny to anyone else, would mindlessly tumble out, fueled by the comfort you felt in his presence. It was a kind of nonsense, a space where you could just be yourself, and somehow, it felt like everything and nothing all at once.

---

Now, it was late, and it was finals week.

Papers and textbooks were scattered across your desk, a battlefield of scribbled notes and highlighted passages. You were in the trenches, neck-deep in the intricacies of biochemistry, desperately trying to cram information into your sleep-deprived brain.

Suddenly, the familiar buzz of your phone cut through the silence of your cramped dorm. You fished it out of your pocket, a flicker of annoyance battling with the ever-present hope that it might be a break, a distraction from the relentless onslaught of scientific jargon. Gratefulness shot through you when you saw Art Donaldson's name on the screen.

You answered the call. His voice crackled through the phone, laced with desperation. "I need your help," he blurted out, completely unlike his usual easygoing self. "What the fuck is molecular cell biology?"

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "In general?" you replied, already picturing the hours that it would take to explain the subject. Finals be damned, apparently.

"Can you just come over?" he groaned. "If you aren't doing anything."

You glanced back at the flashcards on your desk. "I'm not doing anything."

So here you were, knocking on the door of Art Donaldson's dorm. You heard rustling from the other side, making you wait just a beat longer in the dimly lit hallway. You rocked back and forth on your heels, chewing the inside of your cheek and rethinking your current appearance. The oversized Stanford hoodie, mess of your hair, and lack of makeup now seemed ill-fitting for a meeting with the boy who had somehow winded his way into becoming your crush. You felt like a kid again, back in high school.

You were starting to worry you had the wrong room until the door swung open, bathing the hallway in a golden, hazy light. There stood Art, moving his large frame out of the way to gesture you into his room with a short greeting and a "thank god." You didn't know what you expected, really, but there you were, slinking a little too closely past him as he stood in his doorframe. You felt his breath on the back of your neck as he stood behind you, guiding you to his tiny desk in the corner of the room. His hands ghosted over the small of your back, and you felt his warmth, despite him not actually touching you.

The room itself was small. It wasn't unlike yours, or any of the others on campus. But it somehow felt smaller with Art next to you, burying his face in his hands every time you patiently explained a concept you'd gone over already. His face. He was so close to you now, the quiet of the night and the room only making you feel closer.

The energy of this study session felt so different from all your others in the past. You weren't in a classroom, or meeting him after practice in the library. You were seeing another side of Art, the part of himself he didn't publicize. Every freckle, the stretch of his faded t-shirt over his body, the curls he brushed out of his eyes every now and again, the way he flexed his callused hands as he cracked his knuckles, a nervous fidget.

It felt like time slowed down. You labored over the biology textbook, finding practice questions and asking him some of your own. You were gentle, cautious. Maybe it was the weird intimacy of the moment, maybe it was the lack of air in the cramped dorm. Your voice was soft, and you couldn't help but notice how the tension Art held over the phone and when you entered the room melted away. Did you do that? You felt this reciprocation, possibly imagined. But whenever you cracked a dumb joke, he'd laugh and put a hand on your arm. The contact always made you freeze. The touch was a reminder he was real, he was tangible. Every fleeting gaze, every smile in your direction.

You had almost reached the end of the chapter, and Art was getting almost every practice question right. You fidgeted with a sheet of his messy notes, reading it over to continue some rant you were on about RNA.

"...made up of nucleotides, which are ribose sugars attached to nitrogenous bases and phosphate groups..." You trailed off, looking up from the papers only to find his gaze already on you. How long had he been looking at you? And the way he looked at you...

"Do you want to take a break?" He tilted his head.

You quirked an eyebrow, unable to fight your smile. "Sure."

He got up with an over-exaggerated sigh and stretched his arms over his head, exposing the bottom of his toned abdomen. For a moment. He reached under his desk, pulling out a box of some cheap canned beer. He popped the tab of a can, taking a long draw and passing it to you.

You looked away from his watchful eyes as you took a sip. Your face heated as you took into account the fact you were drinking from the same can he had.

You winced. "God, that tastes like ass."

"Sorry." He laughed, taking the can from you. Warm, callused fingertips brushing against yours.

"I didn't take you for a Steel Reserve kinda guy."

"What did you take me for?"

"I don't know. Gatorade?"

"Okay." He shook his head. "No more for you."

"Wait, wait, okay, I take it back."

He held out the can for you again.

"Mhm."

"Still taste like ass?"

"It tastes like what I imagine WD-40 tastes like."

You felt your heart swell as he laughed at that. You hadn't noticed how the two of you now sat impossibly closer, thighs brushing, shoulders sending sparks whenever they met. The half-empty can of beer felt like a nervous talisman being passed back and forth between you. Dumb jokes tumbled easily from your lips, punctuated by laughter that echoed weirdly loud in the quiet room. Finals week stress had completely evaporated, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the shitty beer.

It was so easy, talking to Art. Easier than it should have been, considering you were explaining the intricacies of cellular respiration to a man who once thought mitochondria were a type of pasta. But he listened, truly listened, his eyes locked on yours. You caught yourself getting lost in their depths, a dizzying kaleidoscope that mirrored the nervousness in your stomach.

He leaned in, as if to hear you better, and you mimicked the movement unconsciously. The space between your faces shrunk, the air thick with unspoken words. His gaze did its familiar dance—right eye, lips, left eye—and this time, it lingered on your lips a beat too long.

A sudden self-consciousness washed over you. Should you pull back? This wasn't your intention. But before you could overthink it, Art's lips were hovering over yours, a question in the way they hovered, hesitant but hopeful.

"This okay?" His voice was impossibly low, breathy, quiet. His eyes raked over your features, eye contact shifting from left to right, back and forth. His hand, warm and calloused came up to cup your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

"Yeah." You breathed.

The kiss, when it came, was soft and unexpected. More of a tentative exploration than a passionate assault. It tasted of desperation and relief, of unspoken feelings finally finding a voice.

Your hands moved from your sides to toy with the curls on the back of his head, earning a barely audible groan from Art. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his other hand moving down to pull you impossibly closer by the small of your waist. His touch was shy, tender.

After what felt like forever (and you wouldn't have minded had it been), you pulled away slowly, breathless, a blush painting your face. His eyes searched yours for some unknown answer. For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged rhythm of your breath.

A slow smile spread across his face, mirroring the one blooming on yours. "God, you're so pretty."

Leaving Art's dorm room felt like navigating a dream. Your head spun, a mix of the cheap beer and the potent aftertaste of the kiss. Your lips still tingled where his had been, a brand new sensation that sent shivers dancing down your spine. Relief, sweet and unexpected, washed over you. Months of stolen glances, late-night calls disguised as study sessions, and a simmering tension that had threatened to consume you—all of it had culminated in that single, electrifying kiss.

As you walked down the quiet hallway, a giddy smile stretched across your face. It wasn't just the kiss itself, though that replayed in your mind in a loop—hesitant, searching, then deepening with a shared sense of discovery. It was the way he'd looked at you afterwards, his eyes soft with unspoken emotions, mirroring the whirlwind in your own chest. A nervous flutter remained in your stomach, a delicious mix of excitement and uncertainty.

But beneath it all, a quiet confidence bloomed. He felt it too. This wasn't just some fleeting moment, a stolen kiss in the dead of night. It was a turning point, a bridge crossed, and the future, once shrouded in the haze of exams and unspoken feelings, now shimmered with possibility.

[kenyummy]

BEACH DAY — BLUE LOCK

SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?

note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!

wc: 6.2k

TODAY

is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coaches—taking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.

So, you were heading to the beach.

The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anyway—but in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.

It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed. 

So, this is what got you in this predicament now—thirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip driving—that was all that was left for you to remember everything.

Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...

You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Money—food stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floaties—you never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towels—plenty of towels, A robe—you'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.

Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go out—you think you're good to go. 

You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver rings—it's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.

You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final boss—the beach.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teeth—you decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.

With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.

They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.

Children running around, adults chasing after them—some guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.

You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attention—it took a toll on you.

Too bad this peace would not last for too long.

Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notification—it's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eye—but in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.

You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck aches—the source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.

A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girls—you slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.

Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into you—with the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccer—and rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"

He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."

It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachira—a small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."

Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou next—"Fight me, king!"

"YOU—!!!"

Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...

"Hello, Isagi." 

Your voice seems to make him jump—his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "O—Oh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."

He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"

He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"

He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.

Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids. 

And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to you—worried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable—at least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.

Anyways—he's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio. 

Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to you—only one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a model—he's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).

"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."

"Get your eyes off my chest."

"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.

"You too, stupid crow."

"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongue—eyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with you—a step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."

You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the model—you opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."

"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"

He pauses. "Point taken."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around. 

Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.

You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflicted—you would understand).

"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."

You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."

Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too much—so much so he refuses to leave you be. 

"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uh—Reo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."

Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagi—he's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.

Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death grip—he flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.

"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."

Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at you—you laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."

He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shoulders—you wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"

You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."

He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."

"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like this—it wasn't really your thing—but he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."

He cocks a brow—you see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually die—"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."

"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeah—by the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."

You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends you—which was just him flopping his arm up in the air—nor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."

He says, but you do not catch it.

Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"

The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shoulders—setting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"

His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."

Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."

"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"

You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."

He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."

"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiri—including how to get him to do what you'd like: Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."

You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yours—yet you can practically sense the smirk he now holds—"Well, if you really think so, why not?"

You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six players—even if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.

Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikes—it only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.

Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable option—you think this is illegal, but who are you to judge—and Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.

Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussle—something you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).

You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expected—still, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children. 

You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.

You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]." 

You look to where the source of the sound came from—you get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.

"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."

Obediently—you didn't expect him to move so fast—he sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."

He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."

You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."

The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.

You spread the sunscreen all over his back—he places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for him—seriously, this was sad.

You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possible—if only to save him from the embarrassment. 

It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."

He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."

The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"

Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?

Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"

You laugh. "I know."

The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say something—when Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.

Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper arm—it makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.

"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"

You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to be—although, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no genius—or even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meet—covering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.

He doesn't dare take this further than a small kiss—yet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek. 

You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on you—even though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.

You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to follow—to the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.

Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back. 

You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your head—Isagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smile—though, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you again—and says, "You really are helpful, [name]."

You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.

You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sun—reading your book where you last left off.

Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.

Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"

You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."

"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hübsches Mädchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of you—of course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"

You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."

The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"

Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."

You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"

He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."

"You sound like you care about that more than me."

"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands up—Ness scrambles to get up as well—and looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."

You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"

He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."

You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after him—though, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.

Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tan—you follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.

You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.

"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getaway—you don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into him—somehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.

"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"

Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"

The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head—his voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "I—I never said that! Nobody said that!"

He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatie—with drinks and colourful straws—that should've only been able to fit one person.

You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."

Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyes—but you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.

Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over him—you let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiser—put me down! Sick bastard!"

Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.

You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hübsches Mädchen. Are you ready?"

Huh? Ready for what—!!!

You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this question—you should've already known the answer—because you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness. 

You jump up as fast as you can—you're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your system—your hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.

Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of his—stupidly charming—laughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.

You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.

You've never felt prouder of yourself.

You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly now—it was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.

His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited him—the mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.

"Hmph." He looks away from your figure—you have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."

You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahaha—look at you! I can't—" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.

Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your back—right where Isagi's fingertips once touched.

You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against him—your cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorry—don't look so mad—"

He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."

Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.

He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.

His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."

He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagi—he wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can muster—it's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.

His hands run down the side of your body—the places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.

His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft flesh—he grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of him—but in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.

The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzy—Kaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two. 

It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his arms—it makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.

You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffled—the children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded vision—all you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.

Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull away—but his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his air—it's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.

The only option you can think of is the next action you take—you squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locks—tugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.

Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouth—he'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.

Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright red—compared to his usual pale complexion—and his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.

"Scheiße, hübsches Mädchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closer—if that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."

When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down—you whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apology—you'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.

He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shoulders—pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honey—it flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.

Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.

Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him back—he follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.

The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."

He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hübsches Mädchen?"

He whispers so delicately—you do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.

Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into him—there's nothing wrong with showing off, right?

© ILIVERAEE 2024

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

i love swimming; it has its own language 🤣

[wonjns]

a dip — l.cy

⌗ pairing. . . anton lee x male reader

⌗ genre. . . smut

⌗ summary. . . you went with your fuck buddy to the pool… that was your first mistake.

⌗ includes. . . sub!reader, fwb!swimmer!anton, semi-public sex (pls don't esp not this one), unprotected sex (also don't),

⌗ wc. 2.5k

°A/N. . . sorta requested but also not really,, also not proofread nor very pretty or as descriptive as i like to be im so sorry this is just what you get when im horny bc these pictures ruined my life

you knew much better than to agree to joining anton lee at the pool of all places.

being a lifetime friend (occasionally with benefits) of his, you knew the swimmer could spend hours upon hours at the pool and not feel an ounce of exhaustion. he'd often convince you to stay long after you finished swimming yourself, just to wait for him to complete his cool down routine before driving you home.

the worst thing of all, though, was that you were constantly reminded just how much he had hidden underneath those oversized sweaters and jeans that he always wore. behind that whole shy boy aesthetic he had going on, was the physique of what you could only compare to a greek god, and even he knew it.

you never got used to it - seeing anton's chiseled body exposed in the aquatic habitat that felt like a second home to him. no matter how sweet his smile or how loud his laugh, nothing could distract you from drooling over a body like that cutting through the water with such ease. it was even worse because the sweet boy knew exactly what he did to you.

he tried to cut you some slack, though, respecting your effort to seem unbothered every time he'd peel his layers of clothing off before jumping into the pool, wearing nothing but his tight blue swim trunks that suffocated his muscular thighs.

one time he even pretended not to notice how you were so worked up that you had to go not-so-subtly get yourself off in the community bathroom.

in your defense, it was a heated indoor pool, and at the time he had completely annihilated you in a race. that proud smirk paired with the steam rising from his rippling back muscles had you biting back moans from the sight alone.

so naturally, it was to no one's surprise once things turned physical between you both.

the adrenaline that swimming gave anton put him on cloud nine, and being the stubborn ass that you were, you were determined to somehow beat this pro swimmer in a race - only for it to end with you losing miserably and somehow hornier than when you started. things would always end one way or another, a taunting comment directed at you leading to his bare back pressed against the cool tile walls of the changing room while you yanked his shorts low enough to take his throbbing cock into your mouth.

but today you were going to be good.

you hadn't hooked up with anton for a while, and were truly only tagging along because he needed a friend to time his laps for the upcoming season.

however, it'd be a lie to say you didn't have to give yourself a prep talk as you set your things down on the pool chairs, noticing nobody was there tonight. it was business as usual, though. anton always convinced the coach to let him have later access while the rest of the team went home so he could focus. you just found it harder to control yourself around him when left alone like this, but tonight you had a new type of dedication to simply swim, help your friend, and go home.

besides, why would it be so difficult for you to keep it in your pants for just one night?

‘oh, thats why.’ you groaned internally as you watched anton strip his shirt from over his head.

fuck, had he been bulking up?

you pretend not to notice how his biceps flex as he runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair while you stripped down to your swim trunks as well. god, his skin was practically glowing even from the dingy indoor lighting.

your head whipped around back towards his direction when you heard a low hiss, watching his face scrunch slightly as he stepped down the pool's ladder. your dick twitched a bit at the sight of his furrowing brows and low groan as he sunk deeper into the water, but you mentally slapped yourself back to reality.

"what's with you?" you questioned approaching the steps, getting ready to enter as well.

"i forgot to remind coach to turn the heaters on tonight," he responded. "shit, its freezing."

you thought he was being dramatic, but the chilly water indeed bit back when you lowered your ankles in. you decided against submerging for now, simply swirling your legs in circles while you spun anton's stopwatch in your hand.

anton began a quick warm up, stretching and dunking himself under water several times and adjusting quickly to the temperature. his wet hair splaying out around his face made him even more gorgeous than he already was, and you felt your cheeks gain a sickening warmth.

"alright bro, let's get started." you cleared your throat, speaking up to hurry the process along before your resolve crumbled.

"sure, bro." he mocked before sending a wink your way. shit, he was already on to you.

anton held eye contact with you as he hoisted himself out of the water to walk over to the swim lanes, causing your breath to silently falter. your instincts made you the first to break contact though, as your eyes followed the droplets that slid down his broad chest, past his perked nipples, over his abs and eventually disappear into his waistband.

god, you were such a pervert. and he loved it so much.

only 30 minutes into his laps you found yourself desperately missing the shy boy act that he would put on for every body else. once he was in athlete mode, the confidence in his demeanor made your self control fly out the window. it didn't make sense how someone as massive as him could practically fly through the water, flexing every inch of his muscle like it was nothing.

it forced you to reminisce on how he was in bed, constantly taking you with his immense stamina. he could toss and turn you in any way at any given pace, making you see stars like it was nothing — even when you were the one to start things, he made sure to finish them. you remembered the way his biceps would tighten and ripple in your grasp, holding on for dear life as you begged for him to thrust into you harder or squeeze you tighter. you missed the sore feeling those big hands of his would leave on your hips and thighs.

get it together, y/n.

if you had a dollar for every time you had to yank yourself out of the gutter in just the span of one hour, you'd be rich enough to drop out of school.

you had allowed yourself to sit calf-deep in the water at the end of the racing lane, but it wasn't until he reached you after knocking out 3 laps in a row that you regretted your decision. he emerged from the water with a big splash, throwing his head back and letting out the most erotic sigh you could imagine as he finally let air reach his lungs.

a lump formed in your throat, watching anton's buff chest rise and fall in tune with his breaths while both long arms gripped the edge of the pool on either side of your legs.

"what was my time for those?" the swimmer finally asked you once he had stabilized his breathing.

"oh! right, uhm...." you snap out of your trance, gut dropping when you looked down to the stop watching still ticking in your hand.

"you forgot to stop it, didn't you?" anton asked, a tone of more amusement rather than annoyance seeping through his smirk. "don't tell me you got distracted?"

"fuck, i'm sorry." you groaned, annoyed with your own sexual frustration overtaking your ability to play it cool.

"it's fine." anton shrugged, pulling his body out of the water and plopping on to the ledge next you, making you flinched as copious amounts of water splashed around the concrete. "just let me fuck you."

your eyes widened, damn near choking on the breath you gasped in. when you looked up to see his mischievous eyes, you swore you felt him leaning closer.

"what the fuck, ton?" you exhaled, slightly punching his arm, savoring the split second of contact you made with his warm skin.

"god, its been like a month, y/n. i can't focus on conditioning and you can't even click a button for me, clearly." anton chuckled. "lets just do it so i can have a good season. you know you’re my charm.” he teased, gently nudging you back with his elbow.

you couldn't believe the causality he was saying all of this with. but he did always call you his good luck charm, somehow managing to break his own personal record anytime you'd let him hit the night before or suck you off right before a meet, swallowing your cum like it was his own lewd type of protein shake.

it would also be a lie to an insane degree to say you didn't miss the way his soft skin felt gliding along yours whenever he would grind into you, his huge hands giving you a sense of stability in the way he would hold you down.

anton could tell from the way you were shamelessly biting your lip that you were thinking about it, taking the initiative to push your shoulders down until you were on your back.

he had barely let you utter out a desperate "okay" before he was rolling over on top of you, not hesitating for a second to drop his hips directly over yours so you could feel how hard his bulge had already gotten. you moaned aloud, hips immediately bucking up to meet his as he lowered his head to your neck, feathering wet kisses along your column.

the water dripping from his body was cold, but the warmth of his torso easily overcame it all when you needily reached out to pull the entirety of his weight onto you. you didn't realize how much you missed the rippling of his shoulder blades beneath your palms until you felt his body rolling in perfect tune with yours. you ran your shaky hands all over his chiseled back as you felt his hardened nipples brush against yours, and while you hopelessly wanted more you also didn't want this feeling to end.

you felt a little pitiful, just sitting there allowing yourself to moan in pure bliss as your wet bodies press into each other, gripping anton's wide shoulders as his kisses picked up in heat. he was sucking hickeys into the sweet spot of your neck while his swim trunks tightened more and more as he humped against you, making you dizzier by the second.

"you sound so fucking hot whimpering for me like that." he moaned, licking a long trail up your neck to your jaw.

you didn't have any time to respond before he was pulling you into a searing kiss, his plump lips sloppily devouring yours while groaning into your mouth. you remembered how much you loved the way he tasted, and silently cursed at yourself for going this long without him. when your lungs began needing air, you broke apart to moan out his name, just for him to grab your jaw and bring you back in for an even more overwhelming kiss. he was taking over every sense you had, filling your entire consciousness with nothing but thoughts of him. your hips bucked up incessantly, your body begging for him since your mouth couldn’t.

the hard concrete beneath you was starting to cause your limbs to ache as anton's mass pressed deeper into you, and he seemed to have read your mind, because before you knew it he was lifting himself up and dragging you into the water.

your mind was much too hazy to even register the vast difference in temperature, especially when you were clinging to anton like you needed him to breathe. it was as if something had taken over you and put you in the passenger seat of your own movements - all you could feel yourself doing was mumbling endless pleas for him to fuck you before pulling him in to reconnect your lips.

you could feel anton's shit eating grin against your lips as he backed you up against the ledge, slightly lifting his leg against the pool wall in order to guide you grinding your clothed cock against his thigh. he took advantage of your loud moan to suck on your tongue, loving the way your fingers curled into his wet hair.

there was only so much you could handle before you were reaching below the water to pull your own swim trunks off, deciding that if anton didn't fuck you right then you might actually explode. anton helped you discard the shorts and send them flying somewhere atop of the water. the second you were free, you felt your cock on his abs, causing your hips to take action and grind against the muscle before you could even think about what you were doing.

some combined variant of a choked laugh and moan left anton’s throat as he watched you throw your head back, obsessed with the way you were using his body to chase the pleasure you craved. he decided that he had his fun, slipping free from his trunks as well and lining himself up against you.

"deep breaths, baby." anton whispered, trying to sound confident but the words coming out as a tremble. you would normally laugh at how it almost sounded like he were advising himself, but you were too far gone.

when he finally bottomed out in you, his size and the pressure of the water had your mind in a different realm. you clung to anton's round shoulders as he held you securely, giving you time to adjust after not having him in you for a month.

"this little ass still so tight and ready for me, i knew you missed me." he sighed out, giving you small experimenting rolls of his hips.

when you gripped him tighter and started fucking yourself on his cock, he knew he was in the clear to send you to oblivion, and thats exactly what he did.

between the desperation in anton’s thrusting and the feeling of your member rubbing along his built torso, it didn't take much for either of you to approach your highs rapidly. you were soon announcing them to each other while you clung your slippery bodies tight together, the once still water around you turning into nothing less of a tsunami.

"'m cumming, ton." you cried out, just for him to groan deeply in agreement.

he held the back of your neck, pushing your head down to make eye contact with him as you both reached your climaxes at the same time, an oddly intimate feeling settling over you in the moment and making your skin buzz.

panting against each other's faces, anton leaned in to claim your lips once more before you were both giggling like a couple of fools, padding your hands around the water as you brought yourselves down to earth.

it took a couple of moments for you to gasp horrendously at the realization of what you both just did, looking to anton with so much terror etched in your eyebrows that he couldn't help but laugh.

"did we just- the school's pool- we-" you sputtered aimlessly, only stopping once anton's hand emerged from the water to cover your mouth.

"don't worry about it, coach will handle it. he won't mind, because after that i'm about to bring this school three new medals this year."

© 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐧𝐬 — all rights reserved

[g0ldmedal]

Know Your Competition, Coach

At first glance the title of this story might shift you into thinking; ‘I know my competition…they are a bigger team but we have a superior dryland programme’, or ‘a better technique system’, or ‘we have longer pool time so we beat out competitors with higher metres every session’. You’d be thinking in the wrong direction. Your competition is not the Salt Spring Seahorses or the Hamburg…

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sunsets warm embrace

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, p in v sex, male receiving oral, fingering, unprotected sex

“stop staring at me.” you giggle, pressing your hand against rafes cheek to turn his attention back to the sunset, but he only glances for a second before turning his attention back to you.

you accept his staring, watching the sun sink further into the waves.

“i think my favorite thing about being out on the yacht is always getting to watch the sunrise and sunset on the water.” you hum.

“you're never awake for sunrise.” rafe states, his thumb swiping over your bare shoulder as he keeps you tugged close to his body.

you turn to him with an over dramatic sigh. “it's because you keep me up late every night.”

rafe taking you for a romantic trip on the yacht quickly turned into the two of you spending more time hidden away in the bedroom than actually driving the boat.

“can't help how much i want you.” rafe shrugs, no shame in his voice.

“ill tell you what.” you turn to rafe, who is still ignoring the sunset to stare at you. “as soon as the sun sets why don't we head below deck?”

rafe smirks, leaning forward to press his lips against yours. all thoughts of finishing watching the sun dip below the horizon flies out of your head. 

you kiss him back, deepening the kiss as you slide even closer on the bunny pad, throwing your leg over his.

“now?” rafe hums out, a satisfied smile on his face knowing he's about to get his way.

“yeah.” you nod. “now.”

rafe picks you up and walks across the cushions, carrying you like you weigh nothing as he descends down the stairs and into the master bedroom.

“god, i want you so bad.” you giggle out, feeling drunk without having a sip of alcohol, it's the effect rafe has on you.

“you're not sick of me?” there's a vulnerability in rafes voice that has you pausing as he sets you down on the bed.

“ill never be sick of you rafe.” you answer honestly, placing your hands on his abdomen as you look up at him, making sure he's keeping eye contact. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” rafe never thought he'd say the words to a girl and mean it, but that was before he met you.

you keep your eyes on his face as you tug on the string holding your bikini together, letting it fall away from your chest.

rafe tries and fails to stay looking you in the eye as his tongue comes out to lick across his lip.

your hands return to his abs again but don't stay there for long as they're quickly moving down to tug at the waistband of his swim shorts, pushing them down his hips as his cock springs free.

you pay no attention to rafe kicking them the rest of the way off as you grasp his length.

you stroke him to full hardness, which doesn't take long, before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

you can't give him the full attention you want with your mouth, you need him inside of you too bad, but you need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, the warmth of his skin.

“ohhhhh, baby.” rafe moans out, his hand coming to your hair, but he resists the urge to push you down as you suckle on the head of his cock, flicking your tongue over his slit until you can truly taste him.

you relax your throat and push down, taking in more of his cock until your nose nuzzles against her skin. 

you resist the urge to gag, knowing your throat is constricting around rafes cock and hearing his moans of approval as you attempt to breath through your nose.

you stay down as long as you can before you have to pull off, sputtering and coughing but you wouldn't change a thing, especially seeing the way rafe looks at you.

“take your bottoms off.” he commands.

you lean back and raise your hips, pulling off your bikini bottoms and flinging them over rafes shoulder before you hold your legs up, pointing your toes just as your cheer coach taught you back in high school.

rafe places a hand at your ankle, slowly moving down until he's caressing your hip before moving inward.

rafe smiles at your sticky wetness already covering between your thighs. he wastes no time pressing his finger inside of you, feeling the way you squeeze around him as he pumps it inside of you.

“oh, rafe.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.

“god, you're soaked.” rafe chuckles. despite how many times he's had you, he'll never get used to how perfect your pussy is for him as his finger moves from your entrance to your clit, rubbing over it to see the way your body physically reacts, the way you clench around nothing.

rafe doesn't leave your cunt empty for long, thrusting forward to bury himself inside of you as you both moan out in unison.

“fuck!” rafe grunts, immediately picking up the pace as he thrusts into you, keeping one hand rubbing at your messy clit while his other arm wraps around your legs, helping you keep them elevated as you're laid on the bed with your hips tugged all the way to the edge.

“shiiiit.” you whine out. “so big.”

you love the way you can tell rafe reacts to your compliment, fucking you harder and spearing in deeper.

“gonna take you out on the yacht more often if it means fucking you all day.” rafe chuckles. 

you barely make it above deck and into the sun like you expected, he spends far too much time taking you in different positions.

fucking you against the hallway or pressed up against the steering wheel, having you ride him in the guest bedroom or cram into the yacht shower to kneel down and suck him off.

the only place on the boat you haven't christened is all the outside areas, exposed to the open sea. you make a mental note to get that done tomorrow.

“acting as if we don't fuck constantly at home.” you laugh, but rafe is right, there's no responsibilities eating away your time and the privacy means no sneaking around.

“can't help that your pussy is so- fucking- perfect-” rafe delivers punishing thrusts as he grunts out the words, making your cunt flutter around his cock.

“can't last.” your body is in a constant state of overstimulation whenever you're around rafe like this, and you're honestly shocked you've lasted this long while he's been pumping his cock into you.

“hold out, baby.” rafe commands. he could have also busted instantly, but he's determined to stretch this out and make it last longer.

you can feel your leg begin to cramp as you keep your feet pointed towards the ceiling, but rafe is pressing so deep into you that you're not willing to put them down.

the slap of his hips against your skin echoes around the room along with your moans and the soft sound of waves lapping against the boat.

you reach one hand up to grasp rafes wrist of the hand helping hold up your legs, needing the physical contact of touching him.

“hold it.” rafe commands, able to tell from the way you're squeezing around him and suddenly silent that you're struggling to not cum, but he's not willing to stop playing with your clit, not when it's covered in your juices and the prettiest shade of pink he's ever seen.

you let out a mangled groan of frustration mixed with a moan of pleasure as he thrusts into you, his cock suddenly growing as a rush comes to the surface.

knowing he's seconds away from bursting, you let go on the wave of your orgasm, body shaking as rafe fucks you through it, your legs falling to either side of him as his hips press forward, body moving over yours as your chests come together.

rafe lodges his cock as deeply as possible as he cums so deep you think it may be right into your womb.

your moans grow louder before slowly subsiding as his finger moves away from your pussy, but his body stays over yours as his cock begins to soften.

“if i wasn't on birth control i would think that you brought me out here to get you pregnant.” you chuckle.

“i think you'd be pregnant with quadruplets the way we've been going at it.” rafe chuckles, looking up at you with a goofy smile and you don't even bother to correct him that that's not how it works.

“i love you.” you cup his cheek, somehow managing to press a sweet and gentle kiss against his lips despite the acts you've just performed.

“wanna fuck out on the bunny pad tomorrow?” rafe asks.

“must you cheapen the moment?” 

“baby, my cock is still inside of you.” rafe laughs.

you hum as he slowly slips out, his cum spilling out but will be left to clean up later as you move further up the bed, knowing the routine by now. rafe is going to hold you and touch you until he's hard again and then fuck you into oblivion again, then repeat, then repeat.

“but seriously, the bunny pad?” rafe questions.

“oh, absolutely.”

[torakowalski]

Continued from here but heading all the way back to the beginning. (Not yet) Olympic Swimmer Steve, Hawkins Public Pool, summer 1986:

Eddie isn't a natural swimmer, but he has to find some way to regain the strength those fucking bats took. So when he finds out that Steve and Max are both doing their physio in the public pool, he blows Wayne's mind by demanding he goes to Melvalds and buys Eddie some swim trunks.

Not that Eddie is a follower. But if the rest of Team Rehab is in the pool, then Eddie is gonna be in the pool too.

The problem is that now Eddie is in the pool. He's wet, he's exhausted, and he's wearing nothing except what's basically soaked, clingy underwear, while Steve fucking Harrington looks majestic and gorgeous, swimming lengths not ten feet away.

"It's better through binoculars," says Max. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, even more tired out that Eddie is. Eddie is half taking a break and half making sure she doesn't slide off the side and drown.

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"Steve. Shirtless. It's hotter through binoculars."

Eddie has one second of limb-freezing, stomach-tightening terror, the same second he always gets, no matter whether someone is being too perceptive or whether he's deliberately outing himself.

He makes himself breath through it.

"Jesus Christ, Maxine," he says and gets kicked in the back for his troubles. He'd like to think the kick is gentle because she's worried about his injuries, but it's probably just the hardest she can kick, right now. "Maybe I'm looking at his form."

Max laughs. "Well, yeah."

Eddie gives up. He looks over his shoulder at her. She has the expression of a person who is cool about you being queer and also wants you to know that she's cool about you being queer and also is fifteen and doesn't want to have fucked up.

Eddie makes himself be brave back. "Is it me or is he just getting more built, while you and I flounder around over here, just trying to regain any muscles at all?"

"He's here like, all the time," Max says. "Like hours before us and hours after we go home. He says it turns his brain off."

Eddie can kind of see that; it's definitely harder to think about all the shit that went down at spring break when you're busy trying not to get chlorinated water up your nose.

"Doesn't he have his own pool though? I'm damn sure he has his own pool."

Max shrugs. "I think it got earthquaked." She lifts her head, using a hand to shield her eyes. "Hey, who's that?"

Eddie looks where she's looking and sees a middle aged dude in red swimming trunks and a white t-shirt squat down at the far end of the pool, catching Steve's attention when he surfaces after what must be his fiftieth length in a row.

They're too far away to hear what's being said, but Steve pushes his hair back off his face and bobs in place, clearing listening hard. They talk for a while, long enough that Eddie and Max both start shifting, Max - like Eddie - clearly wondering if they need to stage a rescue.

Then the guy nods to Steve and stands up, walking away, while Steve turns, looking around.

When he spots Eddie and Max, he swims over, all long, and golden and wet.

"Who was that?" Eddie asks, when Steve pops up next to them. "Trouble?"

"No." Steve shakes his head, clear drops of pool water flying from the ends of his hair. "No, he's a swim coach here. He says I'm good."

"Duh," says Eddie.

"You know you're good," says Max.

Steve grins. He does know he's good; it's written all over his face. But so is some bafflement and Eddie doesn't think that's faked.

"Yeah, but like, he wants to train me. He thinks I could compete?"

"Like at the Olympics?" Eddie asks, not totally sure where else swimming people go to swim.

Steve laughs, but only a little meanly. "Jumping a hell of a lot of steps there, Munson. But maybe State? I could maybe do State? I was supposed to be at tryouts last year, but." He shrugs.

"But Billy gave you a massive concussion," Max fills in for him.

Steve shrugs again.

Max kicks him, about as hard as she kicked Eddie. "You better have said yes to that guy or so help me I'll crawl after him myself."

Steve rolls his eyes at her, but they're sparkling. He looks excited, pleased in a way that Eddie hasn't seen for months. "Yeah," he says. "I said yes."

(Part three now here)

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — four: not an ounce of comfort

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

masterlist | previous | next

You ended up rushing over to the football field, a blue painted 85 on the side of your cheek.

85 was Heeseung’s number, Giselle had told you because she saw his jersey a couple times while passing the football field.

“Are you wearing a push-up bra?” Giselle asks as she examines your chest area with a quirked brow. “Trying to impress the Mr, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her back jokingly. “Gigi!”

Yujin shows up not a minute later, her honors chemistry textbook in her hand. “Are you wearing a push-up bra, Y/N?”

“Is it so obvious that everybody knows?!” You exclaim, huffing as you crossed your arms.

“Girl, it’s fine.” Giselle pats your back. “Heeseung will definitely like it.”

The coach blows his whistle and the game starts to become upbeat again, the stadium filled with students cheering.

You could see Hanni and Danielle do warm up stretches on the track, and you can’t help but feel a bit of envy towards the two.

They practically had a perfect life.

“Go go go!” You heard the crowd roar, watching as Heeseung runs through his opponents in a flash. “TOUCHDOWN!”

Giselle shrieks, grabbing both you and Yujin—who crinkled her eyes in disgust—in a tight hug.

“Well what are you waiting for?” Giselle screams over the cheering crowd. “Go with him for your project girl!”

You run down the stadium stairs, bumping into Seojun with a pck!

“You’re Heeseung’s partner,” he smirks. “Heeseung’s over there celebrating with the team. I’ll take you to them.”

Although Seojun intimidated you to the max, you knew you were going to do yourself worst if you said no to his offer.

“Heeseung.” Seojun taps on the boy’s shoulder, and when he turns around, you’re almost stunned by his beauty.

Who knew Lee Heeseung in his football jersey would be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Seungie!” Before you could say your greetings, Hanni runs over in her cheer uniform and pompoms, jumping on Heeseung and wrapping her legs around his waist.

He wraps his arm around her frame within seconds, securing her. He gives you an awkward smile, one which you return back.

“I’m so proud of you!” She says after setting herself on the ground again. “You just needed harsh motivation Heeseung!”

He nods, then looks back to you. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. Yeah?! Heeseung just asked you a question and all you can say is yeah?

You could already feel his friend group burning holes into your head.

“My friends are coming too if you don’t mind. You know Hanni and Seojun. Danielle and Sunghoon are coming too.”

You grimace slightly, but try not to show it in front of Heeseung.

You were going to be surrounded with them.

When you arrive at his house, your jaw practically drops to the ground. It’s gigantic, almost seems endless with a giant front pool that looked like an Olympic swimming pool.

“Why the long face?” Hanni asks from behind you. “Never seen such a place so nice? Are you one of the scholarship kids?”

You gulp, not wanting to turn around to face her.

“Alright Han, drop it.”

Hanni rolls her eyes at Heeseung defending you. “What? It’s just a joke Heeseung, loosen up.”

All of them drop their bags near the maid, not bothering to look behind them as they settled into Heeseung’s kitchen.

“Do you need help?” You ask the maid. Curse you for being an empath, but you could sense her tiredness.

“It’s alright dear, it’s my job.” She gives you a small smile. “Thank you though. You really aren’t like the others.”

You smile sadly at that, hanging your backpack on one of Heeseung’s hangers instead of letting the maid do it like the rest of them.

“Heeseung! What did your chef make for us today?” Sunghoon leans back against the kitchen island. “Tell me you got oysters, I’ve been craving them.”

Heeseung opens up his fridge, sliding a bowl of raw oysters towards the boy. “Have at it.”

He turns around to you, his eyes holding a warm welcome. “Do you want anything Y/N? Sea moss? Truffle pizza? Wagyu with rice?”

You shake your head. “Water would be nice.”

Hanni can’t help but giggle at your words, leaning against Sunghoon.

You’re sure she’s making fun of you in her head. You’re just sure of it.

“Alright let’s talk about our project.” Heeseung takes a seat next to you. “I was thinking we talk about skin layers, including skin diseases that affect people everyday.”

You nod, listening attentively to his words. “I think that’s a great idea Heeseung.”

Within minutes, you could feel yourself needing to pee, thanks to Heeseung’s fancy water his parents had imported from Erehwon in Los Angeles.

“I’m gonna use the restroom if you don’t mind,” you say to him.

“That’s fine, it’s down the hall. Make a turn to the right when you reach it.”

You quickly walk over to the bathroom, giving a maid a small smile as you passed by her in the hall.

Meanwhile, Hanni pokes at the wagyu on her plate, clearly upset with something.

“What’s wrong pretty?” Sunghoon asks. “I thought you were really happy about the win.”

“I am,” she huffs. “It’s about Heeseung.”

“What did I do?” Heeseung asks, taken aback.

“What didn’t you do?” Seojun laughs loudly at his own joke. “What? It was funny!”

“I mean you’re defending that Y/N girl so hard! You didn’t even laugh at any of my jokes.” Hanni grumbles. “Like what the fuck is your problem? This whole new personality is seriously unlikable.”

The room grows silent, and Heeseung can’t help but let out a loud sigh.

“Look—I’m sorry Hanni, okay? I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable. This project is a huge part of my grade and I don’t want to work with someone that hates me.”

“Whatever.”

You swore the tension in the room could be cut with a knife when you entered, but you didn’t want to mention it.

“Now where were we?” Heeseung says, breaking the silence with a smile towards you.

Oh it was going to be a long night.

AUTHOR’s NOTE: think we can all agree mitski is heeseung’s favorite artist 😭

TAGLIST (closed) @cupidhoons @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc @lvlyjisung @cherlv @mnxnii @llvrhee @b0bbl3s @lwavander @glxzillx @txtlyn @heartheejake @realrintaro @wonyoungvirus @hyuckies18 @iriroha @jakeyloveer @thinkinboutbin @yoonjise @rikizm @cinnamon-won @samouryed @moon4moony @jakesfurry @yunjinhuhjennifer @viagumi @rikisly @rikisnotforsale @heart4hees @jjklvr9 @loviwon @rik1zzluv @skzenhalove @jaehoonii @j5yy @tnazips @taeyoonga @ezekiel-bublz @jakeyverse @wave2beom @maepjetl @urfavouriteanon

[girlgenius1111]

adrenaline junkie

r loves to do dangerous things, relishing in the thrill, the rush of ecstasy that rushes through her. until her overprotective teammates find out about some of her hobbies. and then others find out. it doesn't go great.

disclaimer- as has been established, i do not have BDE, so i haven't ever ridden a motorcycle. or done like most of the things r does in this.

At first, it was only small things that the girls noticed. How you would climb up on stuff and jump off, prompting intense scoldings from your captains and the coaches. If this was any indication as to how they'd act if they learned about your... more intense hobbies, you were pretty determined not to let them find out.

There were different rules for professional athletes than people who's jobs didn't rely on their ability to walk. While it wasn't in your contract, you weren't supposed to do anything physically dangerous. No motorcycles, no skydiving, no cliff jumping, no zip lining, no swimming with sharks. It was all very discouraged.

You were an adult, though, a whole entire individual who could safely decide to do dangerous things for fun. Your teammates still thought of you as a kid, Alexia and Lucy especially. And sure, you were young, but completely capable of making rational decisions for yourself.

You'd had a couple close calls; as big of a city Barcelona was, your teammates all lived near you, and it only made sense that it was only a matter of time before you were caught. Your motorcycle was parked in the building's parking lot, but none of your teammates knew that it was yours when they came over. At least, not at first.

-----

You'd decided to use your bike one morning to go grab coffee. The place was too far to walk, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the fresh air. It was a few days into the holiday break, so you knew that a lot of your teammates would be out of Barcelona, at home with their families. This is why you didn't worry about going to the coffee shop that a lot of your teammates frequented. Which would turn out to be a mistake.

You'd had to circle the block the coffee shop was on before you could get a spot right in front. You pulled in, turning the engine off and taking off your helmet, leaving your jacket on. When you turned your attention to the coffee shop, or rather the little tables outside of it, you froze.

There, at one of the little tables with their coffees, sat Ingrid and Frido, jaws practically on the floor as they stared at you. Deciding to play it cool, hoping that if you acted like you hadn't done anything wrong, they'd be alright about it, you walked over to their table.

"Hey guys! I didn't know either of you were still in town." Ingrid was supposed to take Mapi with her to Norway, (Mapi had been complaining about the upcoming cold weather for weeks, but every time she even mentioned spending Christmas with Ingrid's family, she got this disgusting, love sick look on her face). Frido was also supposed to head home to Sweden.

Their only response was to gawk at you, stunned into silence.

"Guys?" You said, playfully waving a hand in front of their faces. This seemed to bring them out of their temporary stress-induced coma. Ingrid stood up, almost knocking the whole table over in the process.

"Are you CRAZY?" She shouted, hands flapping in the air as she spoke, gesturing wildly. Frido's mouth was opening and closing, as if she had so many things to yell, she couldn't settle on one.

"About...?" You said, looking between her and Frido, pretending that you didn't know very well what they were upset about.

"YOU KNOW WHAT ABOUT!" Ingrid yelled, pointing a finger insistently behind you.

"Ingrid, you're kind of making a scene." You mumbled, looking out of the corner of your eye at the pedestrians nearby staring at the Norwegian. She only scoffed in response, hands on her hips, waiting for you to explain yourself.

"You know who is going to make a scene? Alexia, when she finds out her perfect, precious, protégée rides motorcycles in her free time." Frido said finally. Your cool demeanor vanished.

"No, no, Frido you cannot tell her, she would kill me. Kill me dead. And if she didn't Lucy would. Actually, I'm pretty sure half of the team would kill me. Besides Pina. And Mapi."

Ingrid lets out an indignant noise. "Sell the motorcycle and we won't tell."

"You want me... to sell it? Come on, guys, it's not even that dangerous." You try, faltering when both girls rise to their feet again.

"NOT THAT DANGEROUS?" They shout together, and you throw your hands in the air, cutting them off before their lecture can really begin.

"Alright, alright, I'll sell it. You guys are boring. And you better not tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Mapi." You said, making them promise they wouldn't speak a word of it.

They insisted on driving home with you, following your bike in Ingrid's car. They honked whenever anyone came even close to you, and every time you caught a glimpse of them through their windows, Frido was staring at you like a cop tailing a murder suspect. At one point, you were going maybe 5 over the speed limit, and Frido stuck her head out the window, instructing you to slow down immediately.

If it wasn't so incredibly annoying, it probably would have been funny.

You parked the bike elsewhere, now, in case either of the Nordic girls decided to check and make sure the motorcycle was really gone.

-----

Mapi must have cracked Ingrid, you're sure of it. And you knew, too, that she only told Alexia on you because she was jealous that you had a motorcycle and she didn't. Of course, Ingrid thought you'd gotten rid of it. You hadn't. And Alexia, being Alexia, was suspicious enough to figure out that you still owned the motorcycle. She'd come over, accompanied by Lucy and Irene, completely unannounced. You'd let her in, somewhat confused. She snooped around without telling you what she was looking for, before triumphantly holding up the keys to your bike. They were hanging on the hook where they always were, but no one had ever thought to pay attention to them before.

Alexia yelled at you like she'd never yelled before, about the dangers of riding a motorcycle, about lying to her, about not listening when the older girls had tried to keep you safe. She was going on and on, and while Irene and Lucy had started off looking like they agreed with her, they were also definitely over the lecture after a few minutes.

You were in hot water with Alexia as soon as the words left your mouth; you weren't stupid, you knew how she would react to what you had just said, but you had always been hotheaded and her hovering and nagging had gotten to you today.

"You don't need to know about everything in my life, Alexia! I've gone skydiving, and I haven't died. I swam with sharks, and didn't die. Cliff jumping? Zip lining? Bungee jumping? Drag racing? I have done all of that, all since I've been with this team, and I am completely fine. You aren't my mother, and I don't need you to act like you are. I don't need your opinion on everything I do, I don't need you watching my every move. I can do what I want." You snapped. Alexia took a step back from where she'd been standing, a look of hurt flashing across her face.

"Y/n, you're way out of line," Lucy said, looking angry again. Irene nodded her head in agreement.

"No, no. She's right. I'm not her mother. She can do what she wants." Alexia said softly. She dropped the keys onto the counter, and walked out your door without another word.

You were flooded with guilt. Alexia had been more of a parent figure than anyone else in your life had ever bothered to be. You were grateful for it, you really were. She was part of the reason you were the person you were today, having spent the last of your teenage years on the team with her. She'd always watched out for you, always took the time to make sure you were okay. She'd expressed to you, before, her worry that she was overstepping, doing more than you wanted her to do. You'd thrown that right back in her face.

"You need to apologize. That wasn't fair of you." Irene said coldly.

"I just-"

"-No. You and I both know everything that Alexia has done for you, gone out of her way to do for you. She loves and cares about you, obviously you doing stupid and dangerous things is going to bother her." Irene's voice was deadly serious, arms crossed over her chest as she stared you down.

"When you moved here from England, do you know that Alexia called Leah, and talked to her for hours trying to get to know you, and make the transition as easy as possible?" Lucy cut in.

"When you got that concussion last season and you were in the hospital, she sat awake, all night, next to your bed, too worried to rest." Irene continued.

"She has an England shirt with your name on it that she wears to watch you play, did you know that? No one is allowed to see her in it, but she doesn't miss any of your games for England. Not one."

"Your first Christmas here, she went all out with Christmas decorations. You were living with her then, and she wanted the day to be special, even if it wasn't the way she normally did it."

They were switching off, seemingly having endless examples of all the things Alexia had done for you. You were blinking, hard, memories of how easy Alexia had made everything for you flashing through your mind. Lucy spoke more gently.

"You were 16 when you got here, y/n. She has done more for you than anyone. You're her kid whether you like it or not. It doesn't matter that you're 19 now, it doesn't matter that you don't live with her anymore."

"She deserves better than you lying to her about your dangerous hobbies, and she deserves better than how you just treated her. Fix it." Irene finished, tone still just as cold as it had been. She was, herself, rather protective of Alexia, you knew. Her reaction was completely warranted, you knew that too.

Irene turned then too, walking out your door and shutting it behind her. Only Lucy remained, staring at you critically.

"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings." You said weakly.

"I know. You did, though."

"I don't know why I said any of that, I was just annoyed."

"You're young, it's a young person thing to not think before you speak. You do it all the time, normally it doesn't end as poorly as this did." Lucy tried to joke, hating the sad frown on your face, even if you probably deserved it. You just shook your head, looking up at her as a single tear fell down your cheek.

"What do I do, Luce?"

"Give it a couple hours, and then go apologize. And sell the damn motorcycle. Or I'll remove the engine or something." At this, you did smile, if only weakly. "C'mere," she said gruffly, pulling you into a tight hug. "It'll be fine, kid. Alexia would forgive you for anything."

You hoped she was right.

-----

You stood at Alexia's door, about a half hour later. You'd meant to wait as long as Lucy had said, but you couldn't do it. You were fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for her to answer, not really sure what would greet you.

You'd seen Alexia mad, obviously. And you'd seen her sad, though less often. But you'd never seen her sad because of something you'd done. It made you feel sick, that you'd repaid her years of kindness with rude comments that completely disregarded how much she had done for you, because you were slightly annoyed with her behavior. If she was sad, you weren't sure how you could fix it.

When she answered the door, you were stunned, stunned, to see Alexia's eyes slightly red and puffy, like she'd been crying.

"Hola pequeña," she said roughly, wiping at her face as if to rid it of the evidence as to how upset she was.

"Can I come in?" You asked.

"Of course," she said, stepping to the side immediately to let you in. She led you to the living room, and you both took seats on the couch. The Alexia sitting next to you was not one you were used to seeing; you could tell how hurt she was by what you said. You could also tell she was trying to pretend she wasn't hurt, whether because she didn't want to make you feel bad, or because she was embarrassed at the obvious and uncharacteristic display of emotion. You chewed on your lip for a minute, trying to figure out how to apologize.

"Ale, I'm so sorry," you began.

"It's fine," she said, brushing your apology off. She tried to smile at you, but it was weak, and it didn't reach her eyes. It was going to be hard for you to get out what you needed to say, you knew. You weren't good at expressing your emotions, and you'd never really admitted to Alexia what an important role she had played in your life. You tried to show her through actions, but your words earlier had undone anything you'd accomplished in terms of letting her know how much you appreciated her.

"No, it's not fine. I was completely unfair to you. I didn't mean what I said, not at all. I... you've been... for me..." You trailed off, words getting jumbled. "I don't know why this is so hard for me to say."

"It's alright, pequeña, I get it," Alexia said, and she did sound less upset, like she knew what you were trying to say.

"I'm not used to having people in my life that care. I mean, I am now, because I have you and the team, but it still surprises me sometimes when I do something, and people... people care about what happens to me. You've always cared, though. Even when I was an angsty 16 year old with an attitude problem, and I didn't want you to care, you did anyway."

You take a big breath, trying to steady your voice. "You've been more of a parent to me than anyone. I value your opinion, I really appreciate that you care enough to be mad at me when I do something stupid. I'm sorry I said otherwise, because that wasn't true. I was just frustrated, but you deserve better than that. I'm really sorry about what I said, and I'm sorry that I don't express how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."

You take a peak at Alexia once you've finished talking, and find her looking out the window, jaw set tightly. At first, you think she's upset about something that you said. You see her lip wobble slightly, though, before she bites down on it, and realize what's actually going on. Your captain schools her features, before turning to you.

"Thank you for apologizing. I... I was hurt by what you said. I can't help but worry about you, and I know I probably go overboard with it sometimes, but I look at you and see the scared 16 year old you were when you got here, and all I want to do is protect you."

Alexia shuffled closer to you on the couch. "And I know you appreciate me, pequeña. You might not say it, but you show it. You don't need to thank me for caring about you, though. You shouldn't ever feel like you have to thank anyone for that. You deserve love, pequeña, I hope you know that."

You fall somewhat unsteadily into her arms, which wrap around you in a comforting embrace. You blink your tears away, wondering how your apology to Alexia turned into her comforting you, but that was the magic of Alexia Putellas.

"Y/n?” She says, chin resting on top of your head.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really do all those things you said you did?" She sounds slightly ill at the idea, and you wince, wishing you hadn't overshared all of those details.

"Yeah," you answer meekly.

"Dios mio," she mumbles.

"I'll sell the motorcycle," you say placatingly. Alexia lets out a short laugh at that, pulling back from you to look you in the eye.

"I know you will. You aren't ever riding that thing again."

"Well..." You said, unable to stop yourself from glancing towards where you had parked said motorcycle.

"You did not... drive it here... to apologize to me..." Alexia choked out, baffled.

"I did," she groans in exasperation. "But only because I'm taking it back to the dealership right after this. I called, they're gonna buy it back off me." You smile sheepishly at her.

She glares at you. "You better be telling the truth."

"I am, Ale, I promise." You rise, heading back towards the door.

"Good. Off you go, then. Get rid of that deathtrap. And wear your helmet. And drive under the speed limit. And stick to side streets, not busy ones. And-"

"-Alexia, I've been riding it for a year, I'll be fine." You say, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The blonde looks genuinely anxious at the idea of you driving off on it. "I promise, the dealership isn't far from here, and I'll text you once I'm back home."

She nods, looking at the motorcycle parked outside with an expression full of disdain. "Drive safe," she says finally, and you promise that you will.

-----

You did drive safe. It wasn't your fault that someone ran a red light, or that it just happened to occur right as you were in the middle of the intersection. It wasn't your fault that the car practically t-boned you, the last minute braking doing very little to ease the impact. It wasn't your fault that you were thrown off the bike, sliding and rolling painfully along the pavement until you came to a stop several feet away.

It wasn't your fault.

Still, as you looked up at the sky, feeling yourself begin to lose consciousness, you knew that the fact that it wasn't your fault would not get you out of trouble with Alexia. She couldn't kill you if you were already dead, though, you thought. That was horrifying, and you jerked your eyes back open, trying to stay awake. It was no use, though, and your eyes closed against your will, head rolling weakly to the side on the concrete as spots flooded your vision, until everything around you was dark and quiet.

-----

HA.

part 2 tomorrow :)

[yuwuta]

JJK OLYMPICS OHHH YOURE A GENIUS

head spinning w sooooooo many athlete aus rn….. 

satoru honestly isn’t half as cocky as the media makes him out to be but he could be because you bring up world champion men’s freestyle swim times and it’s his name on the scoreboard ten times before someone else shows up. he’s faster than himself by fifteen seconds all around, he’s earned a bit of cockiness. mentioned in the last post that whenever he’s at a competition and he finishes a race, he looks at the camera and signs a little infinity sign and then blows a kiss to you. some bitter old coach always calls him out on it, and gets him fined for unsportsmanlike conduct, and he’s happy to pay the fees if it means getting a message home to you, but eventually you two come up with a new code; and at his next race, he places gold, turns to the camera, crosses his middle finger over his pointer finger and smiles. when he’s in his post-race interview, he makes sure to explain that he does it for you with the widest smile on his face.

megumi nepotism baby but not in the same sport. toji was a multi gold medalist back in his heyday for shooting, so it’s not really a surprise to anybody that megumi has scary good aim, but he takes to archery instead of shooting. actually the idea of megumi being an emo little kid and throwing rocks at a tree when his dad pissed him off his hilarious, and even funnier is toji watching him, slightly amused and a little scared because megumi is maybe six and hitting the exact same spot every single time. he grows to be very blase about it—it’s more of a release/hobby for him that he happens to be really good at, and well, now good enough to earn a few olympic medals. megumi is not a fan of having his dad ruffle his hair on international television after he’s won, but he supposes it can’t be helped.

i don’t know where to put yuuta…. tennis…. tempting….. him in his little white shorts…. little grunts after he serves…. cries….. a complete 180 in his personality when he’s playing vs doing anything else. so charming and sweet and kinda shy when he’s being interviewed, and the second he steps on the court his eyes are so cold it’s scary…. need him… extremely nerdy about his rackets, and shoes, and clothes, and rambles to you about aerodynamics and posture and torque whenever you ask him to teach you, and you always have to shutup him up with a kiss and remind him that yeah you sort of want to learn to play tennis for him, but mostly you came bc he looks hot doing it. once he got asked in an interview if he ever thinks about you while he’s playing and his response was very concise, “no, never. it would be a big distraction,” and did not realize the implications of his heavily televised words. 

also…. not to make this post 40% yuuta but we could pull from canon a bit and make his sport fencing. he doesn’t excel because he’s the strongest, it’s because he’s learned to treat the sword as an extension of himself and a good strategist… also because i like the image of him pulling the helmet/mask off and shaking his hair out………..

don’t even know where to put yuuji…. volleyball? basketball? track and field??? the irony of him easily being the most athletic but canonically does not want to play sports 😭 but i can see him playing a sport because someone scouts him and it turns out to be a way to make steady money to support himself and his grandpa :( by the time he’s qualified and made it to the olympics, wasuke is doing much better (thanks to yuuji having landed some preemptive sponsorships and being able to afford better medical care), but not so well enough that he can travel across the world to watch yuuji play. wasuke tells you that you should travel and be with yuuji, but yuuji is so touched by the idea that you would stay with his grandpa and be by his side when he’s away :(( he wins gold, of course, and he doesn’t even wait until the closing ceremony—which, he’d mentioned in all of his interviews, so nobody can be too upset. he’s on record saying, “i’m excited to play, but i’m even happier to be going home. my girlfriend and my grandpa are watching me and i miss them!” several times— he’s on the first flight home with flowers, and tears in his eyes. puts his gold medal on his grandpa’s neck as a thank you, and spends probably thirty minutes straight hugging you and kissing you and honestly don’t put it past him to propose now that he’s got nike ambassador money 

nanami started judo as a way to relieve the stress of his overbearing job, and someone at the gym/training center notices he seems to be a natural despite being a beginner. he starts to draw a crowd, which annoys him at first because the point of judo was discipline and release from having to deal with too many people at his office job, but nanami supposes he can’t be too mad when you introduce yourself as a talent scout and offer him professional training. there’s irony in him accepting your offer, because it was definitely not based in professionalism at all… quitting his job as a salaryman to become a professional athlete in his mid-twenties was not on his bingo chart, but if it means he will have met you, then so be it. you’re with him all the way, through his training, competitions, world championships, qualifiers, all the way until he’s on the podium. you’re the first to congratulate him, but he interjects by telling you he’s quitting. you ask him why—he just won at the olympics for crying out loud, but nanami just shakes his head, puts down his flowers and his medal so his hands are free to hold your face and tell you, “it would be unethical to kiss my manager, so i am quitting.” (later, when everything is said and done, and you two are cuddling, you mention to him that he could just hire a new manager, and not quit his new career, to which he blushes because yeah… that’s probably more rational, but rational was not in his train of thought at the time)