Keep on prancing, prancer! | CSC
PAIRING :icehockeycaptain!seungcheol x iceskater!reader
GENRE : angst, romcom
SYNOPSIS :
A fierce rivalry on ice. One stage. Four weeks. And zero chill.
When the university slashes its winter sports budget, figure skating captain Kim Minsoo finds her team’s future hanging by a thread. Years of sweat, sacrifice, and silent victories—all at risk of being erased by the varsity hockey team and their smug golden boy, Seungcheol Choi.
The deal? Both teams have four weeks to design one joint event that proves their value to the school. The winner gets full funding. The loser—benched, indefinitely.
Sharing ice time is already a nightmare. Sharing the spotlight? A disaster waiting to happen.
But while the rivalry heats up, so does something else beneath the surface—one that feels a little too much like chemistry, and a little too dangerous to name.
Sharp blades, sharp tongues, and sharp feelings collide in this enemies-to-lovers sports drama where the only rule is: Earn your ice.
AUTHOR NOTE :
guys you won't believe this.
I FORGOT MY PASSWORD.
the last few weeks have been crazy, it's like the moment I finally had a schedule, god was like "NOPE." I recently changed my device, so I had to log in again and I COULD NOT for the life of me regenerate the password. i was in the trenches. i was fighting for my life.
so to everyone who sent asks wondering where chapter five was, I AM SO SO SORRY. i saw them. i felt them. i just couldn't get in to answer 😭
BUT HERE IT IS. CHAPTER FIVE. FINALLY.
and chapter six will be out tomorrow, 6:30 PM GMT. i promise. i'm not going anywhere (except maybe to write down my password this time).
thank you for being so patient with me. it's times like these i really wish i had an instagram or something so i could actually update you guys when i'm locked out of my own account like a fool.
anyways. enjoy the chaos. there's transformers discourse, a wolf tail betrayal, a very bad almost-kiss(IK WTF??!?), and seungcheol being a disaster as always.
love u. don't leave me. 💌
IMP NOTE! FMC NAME IS KIM MINSOO
CHAPTER FIVE
The party throbbed like a living thing. Bass slammed against Chaeyoung’s ribs as bodies spun and ground under flickering strobe lights. Laughter cut through the haze of pumpkin spice and cheap vodka, but none of it reached her.
The party was too loud. Too hot. Too much.
Chaeyoung tried to focus on Jaemin's voice, but it was like trying to hold water in her hands. His words slipped through, tangled in the bass and the laughter and the pounding in her head.
"—you're doing it again," he said.
She blinked. "What?"
"That thing where you check out." He didn't sound angry. Not yet. Just tired. "You're standing here, but you're not actually here."
"I'm sorry," she said, because it was easier than explaining. "I'm just—"
"Just what?"
She couldn't think of the words. She didn't have the energy to explain that sometimes her own head felt like a cage. That sometimes the noise was too much. That sometimes she felt like she was drowning and no one noticed.
"I just need a minute," she said.
"You always need a minute." His voice was sharper now. "Every time we're together, you need a minute. Every time I try to get close, you need space."
"That's not true—"
"It is." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You know what I needed tonight? I needed my girlfriend. The one who actually wanted to be here. The one who wanted to be with me."
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
"Instead," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, "I got someone who looks at me like I'm a chore. Like I'm something you have to tolerate."
"I don't—"
"You do, Chaeyoung. You do it all the time."
She felt the words hit her chest like small stones. Not heavy enough to knock her down, but enough to bruise.
"I'm trying," she said quietly.
“Right. And I showed up for you.” He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Whatever. Enjoy standing in the corner alone.”
Then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd.
She stood there for a long moment, the music pulsing around her, the laughter of strangers filling the space where his voice had been.
She needed air.
She needed to stop feeling like she was suffocating.
She slipped down the hallway and ducked into the kitchen, desperate for a moment of silence.
Chaeyoung’s throat tightened. The room suddenly felt too hot, too loud, too much. She slipped down the hallway and ducked into the kitchen, desperate for air.
It was quieter here. Dimly lit. A half-empty bottle of vodka sat on the counter beside a spilled bag of gummy worms. The floor stuck to her boots. She leaned against the counter, fingers twisting the rings on her hands, trying to hold herself together.
A door creaked behind her.
She jumped so hard she nearly knocked over the cookie tray.
“Sorry—sorry!” a deep voice blurted.
She spun around and found Kim Mingyu frozen in the doorway, holding a bottle of blue Powerade, eyes wide. Fake vampire fangs (one slightly crooked) glinted when he smiled sheepishly.
“Uh… you okay?” he asked.
Chaeyoung let out a breathless laugh. “You scared the shit out of me.”
His gaze dropped to his own outfit — black tank top with “BITE ME” scrawled in glow-in-the-dark paint, cheap plastic cape, combat boots. “It’s the fangs, huh?”
She took him in properly and snorted. “You look like a rejected boyband vampire.”
Mingyu grinned, loud and unabashed. “Okay, rude. But fair.”
The laugh that burst out of her felt like the first real breath she’d taken all night.
“And what are you supposed to be?” he asked, eyeing her costume.
“Rogue. From X-Men.”
He tilted his head. “Sexy evil elf?”
She stared at him. “You did not just call Rogue a sexy evil elf.”
Mingyu put his hands up. “I see it now! The gloves. The streak. Bad bitch with superpowers. My bad.”
Chaeyoung groaned, but she was smiling. “You’re such an uncultured swine.”
“Hey, this is a classic,” he said, gesturing to his shirt.
“It’s a glow-in-the-dark tank top from Spencer’s.”
“Exactly. Classic.”
She laughed again, softer this time. Mingyu leaned against the opposite counter, big and easy and strangely calming. He didn’t push. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He just… existed with her.
“Seriously though,” he said after a moment, “you okay?”
She met his eyes — warm, patient, a little ridiculous with the crooked fangs — and felt something in her chest loosen.
----
Three drinks in, and the kitchen no longer felt safe.
You were spiraling hard. Not cute-tipsy spiraling — full-blown I-will-burn-this-house-down-with-my-mind spiraling.
It had started when you caught Seungcheol staring at Sophie like she was the second coming of sugar and serotonin. His eyes glassy. Jaw slack. Stupid wolf tail wagging behind him like the golden retriever he was.
It shouldn’t have bothered you.
You didn’t even like him.
But Sophie was your sister, and Jihyun-your ex-had left you for her. And you’d spent the last six months pretending that didn’t still feel like a knife in your ribs.
You watched Seungcheol watch Sophie. Watched his jaw go slack. Watched his tail wag like the golden retriever he was.
And you thought about the last time Sophie had made you laugh.
It was a stupid memory. Inconsequential. The kind of thing that shouldn't still matter.
You were fourteen. It was late — past midnight, probably — and you were both supposed to be asleep. But Sophie had snuck into your room with a bag of stale gummy worms and a terrible idea.
"We're making a shrine," she'd announced."A shrine to what?""To the Ice Queen, obviously. She's the only one who gets us."
The Ice Queen was your shared joke. A fictional figure you'd invented years ago, when you were both still skating. She was the ruler of the rink, the one who decided who was worthy. Sophie used to whisper to her before competitions. You used to blame her when you fell.
You built the shrine out of empty water bottles, stolen ribbons, and a picture of Michelle Kwan cut out from a magazine. Sophie stood back, admiring her work with a dramatic sigh.
"It's perfect," she said. "She's going to bless us."
"What if she doesn't?"
"Then she's a fraud. And we'll start a rebellion."
You'd laughed until your stomach hurt.
That night, you'd fallen asleep on your floor, surrounded by gummy worm wrappers and stolen ribbons, and Sophie had thrown a blanket over both of you.
"We're going to be unstoppable," she'd whispered.
You believed her.
You believed everything.
And now —
Now you were watching her smile at someone across the room. Watching her be the person everyone loved. Watching her pretend the last few years hadn't happened.
You closed your eyes.
You didn't want to remember.
But you couldn't stop.
You downed the rest of your drink in one go.
“Whoa,” a familiar voice drawled. “Isn’t that your third?”
Of course it was Seungcheol. The universe clearly hated you.
"Seriously though," Mingyu said after a moment, "you okay?"
Chaeyoung met his eyes — warm, patient, a little ridiculous with the crooked fangs — and felt something in her chest loosen.
"Just a stupid fight with my boyfriend," she said, shrugging like it didn't matter. "I don't want to talk about it."
He nodded slowly. "Got it."
"So," he said, "you ever watch Transformers?"
She stared at him. "What?"
"Transformers. The movies. You know, giant robots, explosions, Shia LaBeouf screaming."
"You're talking about Transformers right now?"
"You said you didn't want to talk about your boyfriend."
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"...I haven't seen it," she admitted.
He gasped, clutching his chest. "In 2026? You haven't seen Transformers?"
"Is that a problem?"
"It's an epidemic." He shook his head, looking genuinely scandalized. "Do you know how many times I've watched the first one? Like, at least fifteen. The scene where Optimus Prime shows up and everyone's losing their minds? Iconic."
She stared at him.
He stared back, completely serious.
"You're impossible," she said.
"I've been told."
She laughed — a real laugh, the kind that came from somewhere deep. The kind that surprised her.
He grinned, clearly proud of himself.
"You're still a dumbass," she said.
"A dumbass who can recite the entire Transformers script."
"That's not a flex."
"It absolutely is."
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. The knot in her chest had loosened, just a little.
"God," she said, shaking her head. "You're so—"
"Amazing? Charming? Incredibly good-looking?"
"Dumb."
"I'll take it."
Mingyu studied her for a moment, all the joking fading into something quieter. "Seriously though. You good now?"
She met his eyes — warm, patient, a little ridiculous with the crooked fangs — and felt something in her chest loosen.
"I will be," she said.
He smiled like that was enough.
Then he glanced at her empty hands.
"God, you're drunk," he said. "Let me grab you some water."
He turned and headed toward the door — probably to find the water.
She watched him go, a warmth spreading through her chest that she refused to name.
“Whoa,” a familiar voice drawled. “Isn’t that your third?”
Of course it was Seungcheol. The universe clearly hated you
“You,” you said flatly.
"...Okay." he replied.
“You know, if you’re trying to drink yourself into a better personality, it’s not working.”
"At least I have a personality. You're just a walking furry with a god complex."
He raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Did you come up with that yourself, or did your team of pirates have to help you?"
Now, it was your turn to raise your eyebrow.
"Aren't you supposed to be dressed like Jack Sparrow?"
"You think you're so funny."
"I don't have to think."
"You're such a pain," you muttered.
"I've been told."
"By who?"
"Everyone. I'm very popular."
"You're very annoying."
"Same thing."
He was still grinning, and you hated how it made something in your chest loosen.
You decided to change tactics. "So. Sophie, huh?"
His grin faltered. "What?"
"Sophie. The blonde girl you've been staring at like she personally invented oxygen."
"I wasn't—"
"You were. Your tail was wagging and everything."
He glanced down at his tail again, betrayed. "It was not."
"It absolutely was."
"I don't control the tail."
"That's not the flex you think it is."
He opened his mouth, closed it, then squinted at you. "Why do you even care?"
"I don't, besides she is my sister."
"You brought her up and you don't seem the type to actually care about who she dates."
"I was making an observation."
"It was a very pointed observation."
"It was a casual observation."
"It was anything but casual."
"You're projecting."
"I'm literally not."
"You're literally a wolf in a cheap costume with a tail that moves on its own. You don't get to judge my observations."
"Oh, I am so scared, Jack Sparrow."
"I AM NOT-"
You opened your mouth for a retort — but then you saw her.
Sophie was weaving through the crowd, heading straight toward you with that same graceful smile you used to admire. The same smile that now made your chest cave in.
You couldn’t do this. Not tonight.
Your eyes darted desperately and landed on Seungcheol. Before you could think better of it, you crossed the kitchen in three quick steps and grabbed him by the front of his stupid wolf costume.
“What the fu—”
“Shut up,” you hissed, pulling him close. “Just shut up and pretend you like me. Right now.”
He blinked. “What—”
“Pretend. For thirty seconds. My sister is coming over and I would rather do this than talk to her.”
You grabbed his face, not kissing him, but close enough. Close enough that your lips nearly brushed his. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath and smell his cologne. Close enough that it looked real.
“Minsoo,” he murmured, voice low.
“Don’t move.”
His hands settled on your waist. Steady. Warm.
“You know,” he said softly, “if you wanted to get this close to me, you could’ve just asked.”
“Shut up, Seungcheol.”
You stayed like that — foreheads nearly touching, breath mingling — while Sophie watched from a few feet away. Your heart hammered against your ribs.
After what felt like forever, Seungcheol whispered, “She’s gone.”
You stepped back immediately, like his touch had burned you.
“So,” he said, voice rough, “is this the part where you explain what the hell that was?”
----
The kitchen was quiet.
Too quiet.
Chaeyoung had been standing there for what felt like hours, her back pressed against the counter, her hands gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
She'd almost convinced herself she was okay.
Almost.
The door creaked open.
She tensed.
"Chaeyoung."
She didn't turn around. She knew that voice. She'd been hoping she wouldn't hear it again tonight.
"Can we talk?" Jaemin asked.
She finally turned. He was standing in the doorway, looking tired, his hair slightly disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it.
"What is there to talk about?" she asked quietly.
"Everything." He stepped closer. "I shouldn't have walked away."
"No. You shouldn't have."
"I know." He stopped a few feet away from her. "I was frustrated. I took it out on you. That wasn't fair."
She didn't say anything.
"Chaeyoung." He said her name softly, gently. Like he was trying to coax her out of hiding. "I'm sorry."
Something in her chest cracked.
She didn't want to forgive him. She wanted to stay angry. She wanted to remember the way he'd dismissed her, the way he'd made her feel like she was too much.
But he was here. He was apologizing. He was trying.
"I'm not telling her," she said suddenly.
He blinked. "What?"
"Minsoo. About the board. About what's going to happen." She shook her head, her voice wavering. "It's killing me. I see her every day, and she has no idea. She's working so hard, and I just— I can't—"
"Hey, hey." He stepped closer, reaching for her hands. "Hey. Look at me."
She looked up.
"You're doing the right thing," he said gently. "You're protecting her. If you tell her now, she'll spiral. She'll give up. She won't be able to focus."
"But she deserves to know—"
"She deserves to have a chance to fight." He squeezed her hands. "And she can't do that if she's already given up. You're keeping her in the game, Chaeyoung. That's not betrayal. That's love."
She wanted to believe him.
She wanted to believe that hiding the truth from her best friend was the right thing to do.
"Are you sure?" she whispered.
"I'm sure." He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know it's hard. I know it's eating you alive. But you're doing the right thing. I promise."
She closed her eyes.
She wanted to believe him.
She wanted to believe that this was love.
"I'm so tired," she admitted.
"I know." He pulled her closer. "I know you are. But it's going to be okay. I've got you."
She leaned into him.
And she let herself believe.
He tilted her chin up, his lips brushing against hers.
She kissed him back.
Mingyu stopped in the doorway.
His hand was still wrapped around the bottle of water he'd gone to find.
He watched them for a second.
Then he set the bottle of water on the counter, just inside the doorway, and quietly backed away.
----
You bolted upright with a scream.
It ripped out of you before you could stop it - raw, guttural, the kind of sound that made Chaeyoung drop her phone and your neighbors probably consider calling the cops.
"WHAT—" Chaeyoung shrieked, nearly falling off her bed. "WHAT IS HAPPENING—"
You couldn't answer. You were too busy staring at the wall, replaying every single second of last night in excruciating detail.
Sophie approaching. The panic. Grabbing Seungcheol. Pulling him close. His hands on your waist. His breath on your lips. The way he looked at you—
You screamed again.
"MINSOO—"
"No," you whispered. "No no no no no—"
You grabbed your phone. Desperate. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you blacked out and none of it actually happened.
One text from an unknown number:
"so... we good?"
You stared at the last one.
You didn't save his number.
You didn't need to.
You knew exactly who it was.
"NO," you said out loud. "NO. WE ARE NOT GOOD."
You threw your phone across the room.
It hit the wall with a satisfying thunk.
You flopped back onto the bed, pulling your pillow over your face, and screamed.
Chaeyoung, bless her soul, didn't even flinch.
"That bad, huh?" she asked from her bed.
"WORSE."
"Worse than the time you accidentally called your professor 'dad'?"
"SO MUCH WORSE."
"Worse than the time you walked into the wrong classroom and sat through an entire lecture on medieval poetry?"
"I WOULD RATHER DO THAT AGAIN."
----
The canteen was buzzing with the usual morning chaos — the clatter of trays, the low hum of conversations, the smell of burnt coffee and slightly questionable eggs.
You sat at your usual table, head in your hands, staring at your untouched toast like it had personally offended you.
Chaeyoung sat across from you, watching you with a mix of concern and barely concealed amusement.
"You're being dramatic," she said.
"I'm being realistic."
"You barely even touched him."
"I touched him enough."
"You touched his costume."
"I touched his face, Chaeyoung."
Chaeyoung opened her mouth — but before she could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Morning, ladies."
You looked up.
Jaemin.
He slid onto the bench next to Chaeyoung, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "You look tired," he said to her, soft and fond. "Didn't sleep well?"
Chaeyoung shrugged. "Minsoo woke me up screaming."
Jaemin raised an eyebrow, turning to you. "Screaming?"
You glared at Chaeyoung. "Thanks for that."
"What? He asked."
Jaemin chuckled, leaning back. "Okay, what happened? Did you see a spider? Have a nightmare?"
You groaned, dropping your head back onto the table. "I almost kissed Seungcheol."
Jaemin blinked. "The hockey captain?"
"Yes."
"The one you hate?"
"Yes."
"The one you called a 'horny golden retriever in heat'?"
"I said that to his face."
Jaemin let out a low whistle. "Damn. That's... something."
"I was drunk," you muttered into the table. "I was spiraling. Sophie was there. I panicked. I grabbed him. It was a mistake."
Chaeyoung rubbed her shin, still scowling at you. "Okay, listen. It's probably not that bad. You were drunk. You did some things you didn't want to. It happens."
"You don't understand—"
"I do understand. I literally do. Remember last time Jaemin got drunk?"
Jaemin winced. "Are we really bringing this up?"
"He screamed that he found Shrek hot," Chaeyoung said, grinning. "For like, a solid thirty seconds. We had to physically restrain him from finding a DVD copy."
You stared at her.
"...Shrek?"
"Green, ogre, loves Fiona, iconic."
"I was emotionally compromised," Jaemin muttered, but he was smiling. "The swamp aesthetic was doing something to me."
Chaeyoung laughed, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "We all have our moments, Minsoo. You were drunk. You were vulnerable. It doesn't mean anything.”
You lifted your head just enough to look at her. "It's not the same."
"Why not?"
You didn't answer.
"Okay," Chaeyoung said quickly, filling the silence. "Okay, that's fine. That's also fine. Feelings are complicated. You don't have to figure it out right now."
"I'm not going to figure it out ever."
"That's also fine."
Jaemin studied you for a moment, then shrugged. "Look, if it makes you feel better, you're probably not the first person to do something weird while drunk. And you won't be the last."
"That doesn't help."
"It wasn't supposed to help. It was supposed to be realistic."
Chaeyoung laughed. "He's a pragmatist."
You groaned again.
Jaemin smiled — that easy, charming smile that made everyone like him. "Seriously though. You'll be fine. Just avoid him for a few days. He'll forget about it."
“Well, I can’t because I have to see his face in approximately 10 minutes. We have practice” you muttered.
Across the canteen, you saw Mingyu walk in with Soonyoung and Jeonghan. He caught your eye, waved, then spotted Chaeyoung and grinned.
Chaeyoung waved back. Small. Tentative.
Jaemin's hand tightened on his coffee cup.
Just a fraction.
You barely noticed.
----
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<a/n> : see you tom!
