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mayaflowerxs · 3 years

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BEST FRIEND’s BROTHER

Synopsis: Your bsf’s brother happens to be the popular ice hockey player, Lee Donghyuck. And no matter how much you say you don’t feel anything for the boy, your body says otherwise after every game.

Warning: smut ! Oral sex, teasing, masturbation, swear words used.

Pairing: Haechan x reader

Series Masterlist: 90’s Love Franchise

“We can’t keep doing this Haechan.”

You whimper as his cock starts plunging deep inside you. Stuck in the locker rooms where he dragged you in there. His celebration for winning the game starting early.

“You say that a lot for someone who’s obsessed with my dick.” He tells you. Before you answer him, he picks you and slams you onto his locker. Arms wrapped around his neck as he picks up the pace. “Haechan! Oh god!” Gripping his hair as he relentlessly pounds your g-spot. Making it his absolute goal to have you cumming all over his cock. He needs to have you walk out the campus with your hole stuffed with his liquids. “Take it baby. Fucking take it!” He groans. Sucking on your neck as he desperately tries to leave you as many marks as he wants. He loves how well you tighten around him. You love how no matter how hard you try not to fall, you still end up in his arms. Begging him to fuck you senselessly over and over again. Rolling his eyes back as you grip his hair yet again. Usually he would say some stupid sarcastic comment about leaving him bald but your cunt felt so good he couldn’t even muster up the words to say anything.

Your moans were absolutely beautiful. Something he needs to hear on the regular basis just to even function. Having you fucked out until you could barely stand is what he was striving for. But it was all cut off short when he heard the locker room door open. Pulling out of you, you two quickly dress up.

“Donghyuck ? You there?” His sister calls out. “Hide!” He tells you. Signaling the shower room, you run inside quickly. “Yeah I’m here!” Walking from around the lockers, her sisters eyes brighten up. “Oh there you are! I was wondering when you were planning to get out the locker room. Hey have you seen y/n by any chance?” “Do you see her around here?” He scoffs. A nervous chuckle leaving him but covers it up by a huff. “Asshole. I was just asking.” She grumbled. “I can’t reach her-“ “Well she must’ve been tired. Probably went home.” “Yeah you’re right. Oh I know!” She claps her hands that startles Haechan.

“What?” He furrows his brow.

“She’s hooking up.” “What?!” He says taken aback. How did she know? And just when Haechan said that, you too did as well in the shower room. Heart racing as you waited for yours and his name to fall out of your best friends mouth.

“Yeah, she once mentioned about this crush she has on Yangyang-“

“Yangyang? My friend Yangyang?”

“Yeah-“

“Yangyang my teammate? Number 24 Yangyang?”

“Yes! Lui Yangyang. She’s had a crush on him since the 9th grade. Well I don’t know if she still likes him but she has been running off lately so I won’t be surprised if she comes out of a room with a large hickey on her chest. He’s very goofy.”

“Yeah well I’m goofy too.” Haechan mumbles. Shoving his stuff in his bag. “What was that?” His sister asks him. “Nothing! Now shall we get going?”

“Oh yeah.” Making her way out, you peek your head. Looking at Haechan who merely glanced at you and walked out after his sister.

“Shit.”

—————

“Haechan please call me back.” You say to the voicemail. It’s been three days and ever since he found out about your old crush on his friend he can’t even talk to you. Not even look at you for that matter.

You didn’t understand. You two weren’t anything. You guys weren’t dating and on the occasion he’s made it very clear that you two are nothing more but fuck buddies. “Hey you okay?” Your friend asks you. Taking a seat next to you after grabbing her lunch. “Oh yeah I’m, I’m okay.” “You sure? You know I’m good at telling when ones lying.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Okay but you know I’m here when you’re ready yeah?” Nodding, she smiles and hands you her green apple. The only kind of apple you like. Appreciating it, you take it and take a bite out of it. As she told a story about something, you couldn’t focus on anything but his table. He wasn’t there, but everyone else was. Including Yangyang.

“Oh my god.” Your best friends gasps. Averting your eyes from the table you look over at her. “What?” “Can’t believe it.” “What? What’s going on?” “He said he was done hooking up. I swear if he brings another girl home I’m going to lose it.” Turning around to meet her gaze, your eyes widen when you see Haechan enter the cafeteria with a girl around his arm. No no not just any girl. The captain of the debate team. You couldn’t tell what shocked you more, that Haechan already replaced you with some girl days after he continuously dodged you and your calls. Or the fact that he was able to pull the head leader of the debate team. The DEBATE TEAM. You expected one of the cheerleaders which could’ve made more sense. Usually everyone in the debate team tend to take school very seriously and never have time to not even hook up. Now this, this was truly a shocker.

Walking past you. He ignores you yet again and plants a kiss on her temple. Arm around her as she giggles and holds his hand. What a brat. Following their movements until they reached their table, where the boys greeted him. Cheers bursts when he introduces them to her. Who looks to be his new girlfriend. “Shocking right? Psh wrong.” Your best friend scoffs. “Yeah. Sorry you have to deal with that.” “Yeah I feel sorry too but boys will be boys that’s just the sad truth.” She shakes her head and continues on eating her lunch. “Yeah…” you mutter watching as he converses with his friends. His arm yet around her neck. “You’re right.” You finish off, looking down to the barely eaten apple.

For the next few days you ignored Haechan completely. You didn’t know whether you should confront him or not. I mean it is his loss if he wants to push you away. But also another part of you wanted an explanation and maybe to seek salvation of the last bit of what you two have. If you guys even had anything in the first place. But Haechan seemed serious. He had her with him at all times. And any time he saw you, he would get all cuddly and affectionate with her that it would get too repulsive to even stand being in the same area as him. What sucked is that both him and his little girlfriend shared the same class as you. Geology. The two of them sit in front of you which is worse because he’s constantly baby talking her. Asking her if she needs any help and never lets her get up her seat. Need a pencil? No problem I have one. Need it sharpened? No probs I’ll do it. What an ass kisser really.

And you couldn’t really understand why you were so bothered by it. You never saw Haechan anything other than a fuck buddy. There were times where you would ask yourself if you could see yourself dating him and it always ended with you gagging and having to eat a snack to clear your head. Yet here you are, wishing that this girl would walk off the face of the earth. While you were too busy sulking, you didn’t notice your partner take a seat next to you.

“Hi y/n!” He says cheerfully. His boxy smile facing you as he set his stuff onto the table.

“Hey Yangyang-“ and then it hit you. Oh why did you not think about this sooner? Think y/n, think! Turning your head to face the bubbly boy, you tilt your head and smile at him. “Heyyy Yangyang.” Furrowing his brow, he looks at you oddly. “You okay?…” “Totally!” You say. Haechan before you who was once cuddly to his new girlfriend was now tensed. “Say Yang, how come we don’t hang out as much?” You ask him. “Oh well I’d like you to hang out but you don’t like getting body slammed onto ice huh?” Giggling, you shake your head. “We should hang out some day.” Haechan scoffs as he rolls his eyes. His girlfriend giving him a confused look.

He sends her a fake smile and signals to the teacher who has now entered the classroom. As if his reason for scoffing was the teacher entering. Picking up his large water bottle, he spins the cap off and goes to take a sip. “So like a date?” Yangyang asks you genuinely. “You want it to be a date?” With this, the boy in front of you who was once taking a sip from his water bottle, is now choking on it. The classroom silencing as they stare at him curiously. “You okay Mr.Lee?” The teacher asks him. Not answering with words but rather with a thumbs up, he nods and proceeds to start the class.

“A date it is babe.” Yangyang says, using his index finger to bump your chin lightly.

—————

“I knew it!” Your best friend claps her hands.

“It was about time you two finally got together.” “We’re not getting together. Its simply a date nothing else.”

“Please you two will be dating in no time. Now let’s see what we can have you get dressed in.” While she went through the pile of clothes I brought for her to piece together an outfit. Her front door opened and slammed close.

“Geez I bet it’s Haechan, another sucky practice.” She shakes her head. Chuckling I nod along. “Right. Hey can I go grab a bottle of water real quick?” “Yeah go ahead, it’s gonna take me a while to make an outfit with these clothes. You’re wardrobe isn’t the most stylish no offense.” “None taken” you shake your shoulders. Leaving her room, you go down the stares and into the kitchen. In there was the boy you wanted to see. Ignoring him, you walk past him who was seated on the stool chair.

His eyes following you as you opened the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. Jumping back when he was stood standing right next to you once the door was closed. “Jesus Haechan what the hell?-“ “Why didn’t you tell me about Yangyang.” “What about him? It’s none of your concern-“ “It is!” “Shhh keep it down Haechan!” “Or what? Afraid my sister will find out huh?” Taking a step forward, you take one back. Doing so until you were up against the counter. “Afraid your best friend will find out how desperate you are for me. How I’m able to get you begging for my cock over and over again mm?” He tells you lowly. His head lower closer and closer to your lips. Pulling his head and smashed your lips onto his. He immediately responds, pulling you closer to him. Picking you up and resting you on top of the counter. A nice grip on his hair as you kiss his lips until you’re sure they’ll be swollen. His hands roamed up your shirt. Already missing your soft skin against his hands. Leaning in more and more, wanting - no needing more of you. It’s been almost two weeks and he really missed you. Yet he would never admit to it. His growing erection began to tighten his shorts. And you knew this.

He groans and curses when you lay a hand on his crotch. “Missed me that much?” You ask him tauntingly. Chest heaving as he looks down at you hand softly stroking the outline of his dick. Softly thrusting forward, needing more of your touches. But he was surely mistaken if he thought you would give in easily. Pushing him back, you get off the counter. Shock written all over him. “Don’t think I forgot the shit you pulled on me. I was over Yangyang a long time ago. It was barely even a damn crush. But because of your stupid stubbornness, you no longer have a shot at having me anymore Haechan. Enjoy your time with your precious girlfriend.” Taking a step forward, on tippy toes, you get closer to his ear and whisper, “Bet she doesn’t make you cum like I do.” Biting your lip, you grab your water and walk away.

Watching as you walk away, he shuts his eyes close and shake his head. “Fuck.”

————

“It was nice hanging out with you Yang. And sorry for any wrong intentions I might’ve given you in class.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m not dumb I know that you and Haechan have been having sex for a while now. Just didn’t know it was this serious.”

“It isn’t serious.” “Really?” He asks, raising a brow at you. His smoothie in hand as you two walked around the downtown mall.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” “What do you mean?” “Doesn’t take Einstein to know you two have feelings for one another.” “Woah! Hold on, feelings?! Psh I don’t have feelings for him.” Yangyang scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s so obvious.” “It’s not-“ “It’s so!” “You have completely lost it Lui Yangyang.” He laughs, taking a sip from his drink. “Please, I knew something must’ve gone down. I had my guesses when he started arriving to our table all gloomy and silent and not even looking at your table. But then when he brought Saerom to our table I knew something was definitely up. Then you ‘asked’ me out. You two aren’t doing this simply to get back at each other or get on one another’s nerves. You guys are doing this in hopes one of you two will snap out of it and confess!”

You stayed silent. I mean he wasn’t necessarily wrong. You asked Yangyang out in front of Haechan knowing he would be listening in hopes that he would talk to you. Confront you, tell you how stupid you are and that you’re his. You also wanted him back. Even if he wasn’t entirely yours to begin with. Now if you were to ask that very same question that had you gagging at the mere thought of it, it didn’t sound so bad of a question. Can you see yourself dating Haechan?

______

“I bet by the end of the date, it’s going to be official.” His sister beams. For a good fifteen minutes now she hasn’t stopped talking about you and Yangyang getting together after so many years. It’s annoying the hell out of him. And what makes it worst is that Saerom is sitting next to him smiling at his sister squealing at your potential relationship with his teammate. “You okay baby?” Saerom asks him. “Mhm? Oh, uh yeah I’m alright.” He fakes a tight smile and goes back to being on his phone. Looking at the date, he sees that he has yet another game tomorrow. A part of him was wishing you would come to his game. What was he thinking of course you will just not for him but rather for Yangyang. The mere thought of already has him rolling his eyes.

“Someone doesn’t seem in a good mood.” Your best friends voice brings him back from his thoughts. “Just tired it’s all. Gotta game tomorrow.” “Oh yeah that’s right. Aw man I wish I could go but I have my thing going on with the debate team.” Saerom pouts. “It’s alright.” “Well I guess I better start heading up to my room. Imma text y/n how her date went with her soon to be boyfriend.” She wiggles her brows. Fighting the urge to scoff. “Yeah I should get going too.” Getting up and walking her to the door, she smiles at him and says her goodbyes. Getting on her tippy toes, he got the sudden Deja vu from when you did that to him not long ago. Moving his face so that her lips connected with his cheek. She waves him goodbye and leaves. Closing the door, he sighs and his head gets rushed with images of you. Very naughty things of you. Once again feeing that tightness in his shorts begin to grow.

“Fuck y/n!” He hissed. Fisting his cock as he teases his tip. Getting off to the thought of you sucking him off. Your pretty lips on his tip, those gorgeous eyes looking up at him as you try to pleasure him. Remembering how even when he’s finished cumming you still don’t pull away. Turning him more at how you have an oral fixation that you found out because of him. Biting his lip as he concentrates on jerking himself off. Memories on how overstimulated he once felt when you just couldn’t pull his dick out of your mouth. Whining when he tried pulling you off him. “God baby. You take my cock so well shit.” He mutters. Tilting his head back as he rubs himself faster. His hand jerking himself quicker as he felt the familiar need to release begin to bubble up.

Thinking about having you bounce on his cock as you beg him to continue fucking you until you’re sobbing. Telling you how much of a slut you are for his cock. Your hands gripping his hair as you suck hickies all over him. And just like that, his warm fluids were shooting all over his bed sheets. Catching his breath as he was consumed with the darkness of his room.

______

It was the day of the game. People started filling up the bleachers but no matter how much people were entering through the metal doors you still haven’t shown up.

“Hey Yang, where’s y/n?”

“How will I know?”

“She’s practically your girlfriend, you should know by now if she’s planning on cheering for her boyfriend” he says. Tone harsh when saying boyfriend.

Yangyang stares at him and later laughs. “What?” Yang shakes his and pats his shoulder. “You’re funny dude.” Walking away, with a puzzled look. He sighs and takes one last look at the bleachers. His eyes meeting yours. Trying to hold in his smile. But you caught it. After thinking back what Yangyang said, he was right. You wanted his attention and if he wasn’t going to do something first, you would. Smiling softly at him as you give him two thumbs up. He chuckles and nods. Eyes looking down and freezes when he sees Saerom. Holding a poster with his jersey number in it. Looking away quickly, as he hurries back to the rest of his team.

By the end of the game, the crowd was loud and rowdy. Anxious as it was a tie once again. Haechan who was now with the puck, rushed until he got near the net and scored the winning point. The crowd roared as they clapped and cheered for him and the teams victory. Standing as you cheered for him too. Going down the steps to congratulate. Looking for 66. Taking off his helmet, you smiled warmly at him as you go to walk up to him. Freezing when a familiar figure the aisle before you calls out for his name. Rushing down the steps and enveloped him in a tight hug. Smile dropping as his eyes never left yours. He was still with her, and a part of you felt stupid. Were you really going to confess? Especially since Saerom is such a sweet girl and really likes Haechan. She couldn’t ruin that. Couldn’t ruin what they have. But maybe there’s hope. Maybe he doesn’t have the same feelings for her and has some for you.

“Surprise!” She tells him excitedly. But you were certain that wasn’t true when Saerom pulled Haechan down for a kiss.

Scoffing, you felt stupid. Embarrassed really. Turning around, you make your way out of the large stadium. Haechan pulls away quickly, keeping Saerom at arms length. “Haechan? Baby what’s wrong?” “Saerom I’m sorry. But I can’t do this, I know it’s sudden and you deserve an explanation but I can’t keep going on in a relationship I don’t want to be in. I’m really sorry but I have to go.” “Haechan? Wait- Haechan!” But he was already out the doors. Rushing after you.

“Where are you?” He says under his breath in search for you. Looking through every hallway and room and still no sign of you. “Dammit y/n where are you?!” He slams his hand on the door the led outside.

“I’m here.”

Turning around, there you were before him.

Staying silent as you two suddenly didn’t know what to say anymore. After much contemplation on what he should say to you, he starts taking small steps towards you.

“It’s you. It’s always been you.” He tells you softly. Meeting him in the middle, you grab his face and pull him in. Gripping your waist as he kisses you desperately. The kiss was no longer the same old one that was filled with lust and need. It was now filled with passion, love and want. Pulling away, leaning your forehead on top of his.

“Can’t go another day without you.”

“Then don’t. Don’t let me go.”

“Never baby.”

————

“You two were what?!”

Your best friend exclaims in pure shock. Both you and Haechan standing before her, hand in hand. Standing behind you and he plants soft kisses on your temple. Rubbing your arm for comfort, comfort for the burst of his sister who is now finding out the truth of you two. But no matter the outcome, he was just glad he now has you. In his arms once again. Only this time, he’s got you locked in. And you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

#nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct reactions #haechan #nct haechan smut #haechan smut #haechan imagines #lee donghyuck imagine #lee donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck #nct u 90s love #nct u imagines #nct u smut

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devilfoodcafe · 2 years

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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

— # ❝ LOVE ON THE ICE❞ | J.SC

PAIRINGS — f! iceskater x hockeyplayler!sungchan

GENRE — fluff, humor

WARNINGS — vulgar language

WC — 5.2k

masterlist.

authors note- this is purely fiction is not to be taken seriously

——————————————————————————————————————————

Your Father trained both you and your brother, Yangyang on ice since you could remember. You lived in an ice town. Once winter hit your home everything was basically ice, snow, cold. But when the two of you started growing out of peewee skating, he put you both in respective clubs. Yangyang the hockey league and you competitive figure skating.

Your Father was both of your coaches for a while. Finding time for both of you but as each of you got older he became a full-time coach to Yangyang.

It didn't really bother you at first. You had your skating to yourself and it was way more beautiful than what they were doing. But then you realized no one was there to watch, support, and cheer for you as all the other girls did.

There was nothing pushing you anymore. You were left unchallenged as well. You felt bored with the sport. There was nothing to gain out of it anymore.

When you quit it was a sore subject at dinner. Your Father didn't want to hear it. He raised skater kids who were going to get a scholarship that way through sports. But you countered that argument quickly. You kept your grades up and made sure you were the smartest in your class you got in on scholarship on just your grades. You didn't need skating for that.

Your Father said you and him would discuss it when he came back from work.

He was a trucker on the weeknights and every so often the weekends. He had gotten a call from your coach saying that you were unmotivated in your practice. And that if you were uninterested in the sport any more than to drop it as a competitor and keep it as a hobby. Your coach even said that she would hire you at the rink as coach to the peewee girls.

When he came back he begrudgingly told you, you can drop the sport but will help your coach run the peewee classes. But you had to keep your grades up and if anything slipped he would make sure that you get back on a regiment.

Another one of your dad's silly rules that applied to both you and your brother. No girls and definitely no boys. Especially hockey players from his team. He made sure you had no contact with them. Every time Yangyang was having them over you had to be out of the house and you couldn't socialize with them at school.

He seemed way more strict with you when it came to them than he was with Yang because he had been hanging out with one of your skater friends.

But now you were definitely going to see them more often. The hockey team's rink is right next to the peewee learning rink and they meet at the same time. Well, the hockey players met earlier. You drove with your dad and brother to the rink and you set up for your class while they ran their drills.

"Hey, Mark who's the new peewee instructor?" Ten asked him.

He smirked. No matter your Father's rule no one can stay away from Mark. Not like your Father could hate the boy, smart, good grades, church boy who was also Yangyang's tutor. You and Mark were in a lot of classes together.

"Ask Yangyang."

"Yang!" Ten shouted.

The young boy pulled himself away from Sungchan and Haechan and made his way over to his older friend.

"What?"

"Who's the peewee coach?"

Yangyang made a "'really bitch' face at him and then looked over to Mark who was laughing. "This is why you called me over here? You couldn't just tell him?"

"What is going on over here?" Winwin the captain of the team came up to them.

"Just asking about the hot new ass of the peewee coaches." Ten said with a smirk.

Hoping to get a rise out of Yangyang thinking you were his new girlfriend. This caused Winwin to stare at you.

"God, you are all disgusting." He said with a roll in his eyes and anger in his voice. "That is my sister so would you all please stop staring at her."

Mark started laughing and falling to the ground of the dugout.

"Since when do you have a sister?" Winwin asked.

"Since we are twins when we were born." He said frustrated.

"Nah you have to be lying. That is just the new ass you are tapping." Jeno said who was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"You never bring her up. And we never see any pictures of her around the house." Ten said.

The other 2 males, Sungchan and Haechan skated up to them to see what they were talking about not wanting to miss any talk of hockey strategies.

"You are all disgusting. 1) because we are always in my room or in my dad's man cave. 2) my dad, your coach doesn't want you no good scoundrel hockey players sniffing around my sister."

"How come Mark knows of her existence?"

"Because they are both overachieving students and are in the same classes. He is my tutor. And well he isn't a scoundrel."

"I take offense to that I'm not a scoundrel," Haechan said in his defense.

"Tell that to her Father who hears all your locker room talk."

This caused Haechan to shut up.

"1) what are you guys talking about? 2) How did the topic of Yangyang having a sister come up? 3) Since when does he have a sister?" Sungchan asked all very confused about what was going on.

Winwin took charge and filled him in. "Apparently they are twins since birth I'm guessing she is the angel because he is certainly the devil. And she is the new peewee coach over there and Ten was staring at her ass."

"Don't throw me under the bus like you weren't leering either." Ten said poking his Captain in the chest with his stick.

Sungchan turned around and saw a young girl around his age helping a little girl with her balance on skates. He looked a little longer than he should have because he made direct eye contact with you. You passed the little girl off to another teacher there and skated towards their rink. There was a door connecting the two rinks which you gladly skated through like you owned the place up to the players.

"If you are going to be talking about me might want to do it with a lower register. And please I have a name it's ___ and it isn't a hot piece of ass or new ass. Also, there are children present. Please have some dignity. And good for you Yang I didn't know you knew the word scoundrel. Nice to see tutoring is paying off." He groaned at that comment.

"After hearing what you all and seen the way you guys are leering at me." You said looking at the 3 boys you caught looking at you. "I do know for a fact you are all knaves."

"Well, I know for sure now that she is in fact his sister." Ten said staring at you a little scared.

"What the fuck is a knave?" Haechan asked out loud.

"A knave is another word for a scoundrel or a dishonest person. In the case of not wanting to sound redundant of using her father's description of us and what Yang was repeating ___ used another word." Mark pointed out.

"That is correct Mark." You hummed.

"See she is my sister. Now before we all get in trouble and we have to do laps. You go back to your job." Yangyang said lightly pushing you towards the door. "And all of you stop eye-fucking her across the rink before my dad guts you like a fish. And I have seen him do that it is messy."

You of course skated off not wanting to face your Fathers rage.

Haechan waited till you were out the rink. "I'm not a dishonest person."

"The direct definition of a scoundrel is a dishonest or unscrupulous person; a rogue." Ten said to his younger friend.

"Well, what is the definition of an unscrupulous person?" Jeno asked.

"Unscrupulous means, having or showing no moral principles; not honest or fair," Mark stated. "And before you asked rogue means a dishonest and unprincipled person."

"What are the principles of being moral?" Sungchan asked entertaining their silly questions which would soon piss off Ten and Yangyang.

"Can't tell you. I don't do anthropology questions." Mark said.

"Yeah, you would have to ask Kun. He is better at that stuff." Winwin said.

"Can you all shut up?! We aren't in a classroom." Yangyang huffed.

"Boys circle up." The coach yelled as they began their practice.

——————————————————————————————————

"Yangyang you nearly killed the entire team today when running plays. You knocked Haechan to the ground and knocked the wind right out him." Your Father said to your brother while eating dinner.

"Sorry, Dad he-they were pissing me off today. Discussing principles of morals and what makes a person dishonest."

"Why were they discussing that Yang?" You asked egging him on.

"We were discussing what makes someone a rouge."

"A rouge, Son?" Your Father asked.

"I think he means Dad knave."

"Oh, you mean a scoundrel." He stated. Yangyang and you nodded. "Why were you talking about that?"

"Because Haechan was acting like a scoundrel."

"See ___ Yang knows that they are scoundrels." Your Father pointed at you.

Now you didn't think they were scoundrels. They were probably were you horny teen boys who say a few too many dirty jokes. They are boys what can actually do to you.Your Father taught you how to hunt and defend yourself.

"Yes, Father I know."

"So Yang I won't be at the game next weekend. Johnny said he would manage you guys. We plan to make plays for you guys against the Apes."

"Where are you going, Dad?"

"I have a long trucking delivery. I leave Friday night and at the latest, I will be back Sunday night. That means the boys can't come over while I'm gone Yangyang." Your Father said sternly. "Mrs. Lee said she would check in on you and make some food for the both of you."

"Ok, Dad." "Yes, Father." The both of you said at the same time.

————————————————————————————————

"You are staring at his sister. I would move your eyes to your food if you don't want to be blind." Ten said to Sungchan while in the cafe.

"What do you mean?"

"What does he mean?" Haechan asked flabbergasted. "He knocked me on the ice for all the banter."

"Tripped me. For staring at her ass. Which is a double standard why didn't Winwin get tripped." Ten said, scooping his rice into his mouth.

"He nearly ripped Jeno's throat out. I mean I've seen him throw hands at games but never with us." Mark agreed.

"I just—She is really pretty and Yang is Yang. Didn't think he had pretty genes in his family. We have all seen coach." Sungchan said.

"Does our little deer boy have a crush on Yangyang's sister?" Haechan asked teasing.

"You still call me that?"

"It's the face you make. You look like a deer caught in the headlights." Ten said excitedly. "Now that I think about it you had that look a moment ago looking in that direction." Ten said pointing his utensil in your direction.

"Shh. Everyone shut up. He's coming." Mark said.

Yangyang was walking over with Winwin. "So guys my dad is going away this weekend, Johnny is coaching us."

"Is your sister coming to the game?" Haechan asked chuckling under his breath.

Yangyang got this feral look in his eyes.

"I would ignore that comment and maybe direct you "'I'm going to rip your throat out with my teeth' look at Jeno who is literally talking to her right now."

You were laughing at a joke Jeno was telling you about a teacher you guys had. But what Yangyang saw was Jeno vailed attempt to get into your pants. He got up from the table and marched his way over.

"God I'm sorry for what is about to happen."

Jeno looked over to an angry Yangyang stomping his way over.

"What is going on here?"

"Jeno and I were talking about history."

"I didn't know history was funny?" Yangyang said crossing her arms.

"I was doing impression of our teacher during his lecture. I almost fell asleep but ___ here kept me awake."

"It was pretty easy because when we were working he was asking me so many questions."

"What? You can't ask her questions. You shouldn't even be talking to each other."

"Yangyang, please we are at school. Dad isn't even here. Jeno and I have been in class together for half the year."

"Yeah, and she is way funnier than you Yang. You should bring her around more."

"No!"

"Yang no offense but you are making a scene in the cafe. Jeno can you give us a moment." Jeno nodded and left the two of you alone. "Why do you care?"

"They are-"

"Your friends. You think they are really bad people?"

"No. But Dad...He doesn't want you around them." He said lowly.

"Because what they are teenage boys. I can take teenage boys and I would never do anything that makes you uncomfortable or dad. I wouldn't date one of your friends. That isn't even on my mind. It wouldn't hurt to have a few more friends that know how to skate."

"What about your figure skating friends?"

"We haven't talked since I quit the team. They don't really like me anymore. They think that I thought I was too good for skating and I was so stuck up."

"So that is why Shuhua isn't really talking to me anymore." There was a moment of silence between the two of you. "Do you want to sit with us?"

"If it isn't a problem."

He wrapped his arm around you bring you over to the table. All the boys looked up and looked at you.

"As you know this is my sister. She will be sitting with us this week. And forever how long she wants. Rules will be put into place. 1) don't hit on her or make sexual comments about her. 2) None of you and I mean none of you will ever date her."

You sighed letting your head fall into your hand. However, Haechan who seemed more like Yangyang's twin more than you started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Yangyang said with his hands on his hips.

"Y-y...." he laughed harder. "T-T-Trying...."

"Haechan spit it out!" Yangyang yelled.

Mark then tired of Haechan's cackling like a witch pulled his notebook, pen, and slammed it in front of him. "Write."

Haechan scribbled almost ineligible handwriting.

"He says you are the least threatening person. And when you stand there like that you look like an angry kitten."

Yangyang went to lunge at him. Winwin was ready to get in between him. Instead, you put your hand on his chest.

"He might be the one making the threat Haechan...but he really isn't the one you should be afraid of. My dad takes me hunting. Yangyang only gets to shoot the crossbow. In fact, that is a message for everyone here." You said

There was silence at the table. Yangyang pulled a chair out for you and sitting next down on the other side of you.

"Have you ever killed a deer?" Ten asked.

Sungchan choked on his rice.

"No only rabbits. I could never hurt a deer they have cute faces."

"Then you must think our little deer boy is cute, right?" Ten said pinching his cheek.

Sungchan looked up from his plate and being forced to look directly at you. He felt his cheeks turn red of embarrassment.

"Oh look he is doing the deer in the headlights look," Winwin said pinching his other side.

"God, you guys are the worst." The embarrassed boy said shaking them off and planting his head in his hands.

"You need to stop acting like annoying parents when we are in public," Jeno commented stuffing carrots into his mouth.

"And you need to stop eating like an animal, you can choke on them," Winwin said pulling the carrots closer to him.

"So ___ you didn't answer my question don't you think Sungchan is cute?"

"For being similar to a deer? Yeah, he is cute." You said eating the side of veggies looking at the boy.

You watched as the known deer boy's eyes light up and then quickly turning red in the face looking away.

This interaction was met with a loud groan and stabbing his plate.

"Yangyang cool down." You said.

"Yeah maybe go skate on the ice." Haechan teased.

You were conveniently sitting next to him. You grabbed his ear.

"Sorry, Yang." He whimpered back to his best friend.

"I'm starting to think the coach was protecting us from her," Jeno whispered to Mark.

Mark chuckled, "You have no idea."

——————————————————————————————————

"Listen I have to tell Father something, Yang. It was asked of me while in class, I didn't want to tell you earlier because you would freak out."

"Fine what is it?"

"My history teacher asked me to tutor Jeno because he is failing and he needs to play on the team. And hockey is the only good team at our school."

Yangyang looked like he was going to freak out. But he looked at your face, you looked scared enough already about telling your dad.

"It's ok. It's a curse being the smart sibling." He laughed. "I'll be standing next to you when you tell him."

You both walked into your house. You saw your Father unpacking the groceries, he looked up at his two children. He greeted them, "Hi guys. How was school today?"

"It was fine. __ does have something to tell you?"

"I agreed to help Jeno with studying for History."

"Yeah, I know. I noticed you were in his class and I told your teacher to have you tutor him." He said.

"You suggested that she spend time with Jeno? A scoundrel?" Yangyang asked in disbelief.

"He is your friend Yangyang."

Your father turns towards you with his hand on his hip. "I saw your sister talking to the guys yesterday before practiced. She handled herself pretty well and you stood up for her as well." Your father said with a chuckle. "I've also noticed how your sister has had her nose in the book so much. Spending her weekends at home, never going out."

You looked down embarrassed by the truth.

"So what you are telling me I was mean to my friends for no reason?"

"Defending my honor is not a reason to be rude to your friends? Especially when they talked about ‘my ass'?" You asked a little annoyed at your brother.

Your father hit the back of his head. "She is your sister! Don't let them talk about her that way!"

"Yes, Dad."

"Jeno said he was coming home with you after practice. So if you'll excuse me I'm going to start my homework and prepare my notes for Jeno."

Your father hummed as you started going upstairs towards your room.

"Sungchan is also coming home with me so we can get started on a biology project," Yangyang said smirking at you. You in return only rolled your eyes.

——————————————————————————————————

"Dad went out, took Johnny to dinner to run over the plays." Yangyang came in with his friends.

They came in just in time for dinner to be put in the oven. "I'm assuming you guys are staying for dinner? I made enough for everyone."

"You are my favorite Liu now," Jeno said taking a big sniff of the air. Yangyang laughed and pushed his shoulder. "She should be your favorite because she is going to improve your grade." He commented.

"Yeah, that too. Sungchan what do you think of ___?" He asked teasingly.

Sungchan looked embarrassed before he could answer you replied instead, "Jeno do you think teasing your friends is going to help improve your grade?"

"No." He hanged his head in shame.

"Notes for this unit are organized in a notebook they should help you with tonight's homework, I'm assuming that the textbook was rather daunting with long chapters. I have nothing against spark notes or Quizlet for summaries of chapters and definitions on certain words/events."

Jeno went over to his spot at the kitchen table looking at the notebook you had set up for him.

"So well organized."

"Yes. I figured we could meet weekly and I can help you set up notes. Then over a course of time, we can exchange our notes. These should help you for the test at the end of the week."

"We have a quiz at the end of the week?!"

"He is not going to pass." Yangyang sighed.

"Benched for the weekend." Sungchan laughed getting water from the fridge.

"Words of encouragement to prove you wrong," Jeno said sticking his tongue out.

You exhaled with a slight chuckle, "Alright boys let's get to work." You said. They turned their heads in unison at you and nodded and sat down at the table.

——————————————————————————————————

It had been a long week of helping Jeno study and review the material. You have to admit he was rather determined to get at least a B on his quiz because that would bring him up a whole letter grade. He really wanted to play this weekend against the Apes.

Jeno came running into the cafeteria with the quiz in hand to show the table how well he did on the quiz.

"___! Guys! ____! Look!" He shoved the quiz in your face. "92%! That is better than I hoped for. I get to play tomorrow."

"That's good Jeno." You smiled.

Yangyang came over to the table setting his lunch down announcing, "Sleepover at our house tonight. Dad left. Have a little fun before the big game tomorrow."

The boys whoop at the idea of a sleepover before the important game tomorrow. "Couldn't tell me about this?"

"Just thought of it now?" He told you.

"Are you telling me or asking me?"

"Telling you? Doesn't matter. They are coming over."

The boys were watching the sibling banter go back and forth like a tennis match.

"Who's sleeping where? You can fit three in your room and two on the air mattress. That leaves two on their own?" You asked.

"We have the couch downstairs, that can fit someone. You can fit one in your room."

"My room?" The table turned towards you.

"You can obviously choose who."

Haechan latched his arms around you. "__ is my real sister. We are the real twins she'll obviously pick me."

"Haechan I rather share a room with Yangyang. And I did that for the first 10 years of my life. We nearly killed each other."

The sunshine boy pouted.

"I'm fine with the couch if that narrows done the decision," Winwin said. "An I already know how the rest of the bunking is going to go down."

"Oh really now?" Ten asked annoyed.

He cleared his throat and got a pen from his backpack and grabbed a napkin, he began to explain how it was going to happen, "In the living room it will be me on the couch the air mattress will be where the table is, that will have Jeno and Mark. Then we have Yangyang in his room and on the pullout from his bed, there will be Ten and Haechan. And that leaves Sungchan all by his lonesome." He smirked.

"I was going to have Haechan and Ten in my room."

"I never sleep with Mark at a sleepover," Jeno said.

"There is a reason why I am the team captain." He said with a small bow.

"I'm ok with sharing my bedroom with Sungchan. Since I know besides Winwin and Mark that wouldn't mess up my room and actually rummage through my things."

"I wouldn't," Yangyang said way too confidently.

"You went through my drawers looking for my diary two days ago." You were only met with that statement with a tongue in your face.

Ten, Winwin, and Haechan turned to each other snickering at playing matchmaker. After the devious Haechan put the sleepover idea into Yangyang's head.

——————————————————————————————————

It was late into the night 4 pizza's devoured, 3 liters of different sodas finished, and empty bags of chips. Haechan's head was asleep on Mark's shoulder as he was playing against Yangyang who was half asleep himself. The time read 12:30.

You had started cleaning up after the boys, you pulled out the air mattress and the extra sheets.

"Bedtime boys. We have to get up 5:45 and eat before the game." You said to the sleepy boys.

They all hummed. Winwin rolled over on the couch stuffing his face into a couch pillow. Jeno and Mark fell on the air mattress, Jeno squeezing mark from behind. Haechan squeezed Ten as they followed Yangyang to his room.

"Wow, they must be really tired." You said.

With a small yawn, Sungchan replied, "You would be too if you got up at 5 before school 3-4 times a week to practice. Then after school practice. Then all the homework. It's amazing that half of the team has amazing grades while the half does ok because they are tutored by other teammates."

"Yeah, I understand I've been there. But I would be studying while waiting for my turn to go on the rink."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you used to skate."

"I still skate but now for fun. There is a lake of thick ice behind the house." You said pointing out the back window. Sungchan looked out the window.

He had an idea. "Do you wanna go for a late-night skate?" He smirked.

You liked that idea. "Sure."

"You think you can show me some moves, figure skater?" He teased laughing.

"With your stature? No problem."

"I'm yours to control, M'lady."

"So this move is called the backward crossover. Here is what you do move both of your legs apart at the same time to a width greater than that of your shoulders." You say showing him yourself, then move other to him. " Bring your legs back together and repeat. It takes effort and a little bit of muscle. And as you know the more push and pull you give-"

"The faster I go. I know I know. I'll go slow."

He went slowly to try and get the hang of the maneuver. It was a little more difficult because this was an open pond of ice and not a rink. You watched with giddy in your eyes as he did the move beautifully.

You cheered as he stopped and looked at you. He skated back over to you as you gave him a high five. "You did so well!"

"Jeno was right you are an excellent teacher."

"Can you teach me a hockey move?"

"Well, it's a little difficult to teach you a move or a play because your dad uses a secret code so no one understands it but the team. But I can teach you how to score with a puck."

He skated over to the edge of the pond bench where his bag was located. He gave you his extra stick and his practice puck.

"Ok, so the score between the tree and that boulder." He placed the puck in front of you. "I'm going to show you a form of shooting a puck. It's called a wrist shot." He skated behind you and set up your body to do the shot.

"Start with the puck on your stick behind your body. Pull the puck all the way until it comes off your blade." felt his hand wrap around yours which was around the hockey stick. "Shoot the puck when it is positioned in front of the blade of the stick, like this. Flick your wrists forward and point the toe of the stick where you want the puck to go."

With the flick of the wrist, you watched as the puck slide a little over the place and just missed the place of missing the makeshift goal.

You pouted. Sungchan laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not that great of a teacher."

"No, Sungchan. I think I didn't put enough effort into the push." You said swinging the stick around.

He chuckled even more. "Careful you might hurt yourself." He grabbed the stick and pulled you closer.

You saw that his face was red. It must have been really cold out, you were wearing a jacket but he wasn't.

You started talking while skating back towards your house, "We should go back inside. You still have to get up-"

He pulled you back, a little too fast. You slipped into his arms. "Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something."

“Uh…yeah?” You asked nervously.

"I wanted you to wear my pendant." He helped you stand normally and slipped the pendant over your head. "It's my number for the team, my mom got it for me."

"You could have given this to me inside."

"I just had a feeling it would be appropriate to give it to you here."

You smirked at the comment. "Come on lover boy, we really have to go to bed now. Don't judge my room when you go in there. And sorry for the girly sheets."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He chuckled happily following you.

——————————————————————————————————

"Hehehe...my plan is working," Haechan said rubbing his hands together watching you two from the window.

"Your plan? If anything it's my baby. Winwin and I's plan, look at our precious deer boys' faces." Ten said gushing about how dopey his friend looked following after you.

"I don't like that you are playing matchmaker with my sister," Yangyang said, hugging his pillow.

"But she looks really happy, look she is blushing." Ten said yanking your twin towards his window holding his head watching the two of you.

"She does look happy. If they kiss in front of me, I'll kill him. If he breaks her heart I'll kill him." Yangyang growled with his eyes leveled with the window pane.

Haechan started holding in his laughter, with tears being held back. "You are so cute when you are threatening."

"You look like Louis and Leon trying to catch a bird."

Yangyang turned around to his friends. "Shut up. I will have the deer's head in my hands and mount it to our mantle if ever see her frown." He declared.

"You look so tiny." You laughed peering through the door. He growled more and picked up his pillow and chucked it at you.

You have ever were saved by a large arm in your face. You looked up at Sungchan as he smiled brightly down at you, then gave a death glare to the room.

"Mess with __, you might end up with a puck in your mouth." He said with a smile.

"I just got chills," Haechan said.

"There was no soul there." Ten said.

"Oh come on he is not that scary! You are just saying that because he is tall!" Yangyang shouted.

"Liu Yangyang shut the hell up! We all have to sleep! Everybody to bed now!" Winwin screamed from downstairs.

——————————————————————————————————

devilfoodcafe™

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126 notes · View notes

starryhyuck · 3 years

Text

thin ice. (m)

pairing: icehockeyplayer!mark x figureskater!reader

words: 2.6k+

summary: mark lee is the only thing standing in the way of your team’s victory. therefore, fucking him dumb is the best way to defeat him.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: dom!mark, sub!reader, overstimulation, constant fucking, bathroom sex, talks of car blowjobs, sex on the floor, (slight) breeding kink, creampie, hair pulling

disclaimer: i have no idea how figure skating or ice hockey works, i literally fell on my ass when i tried to step on the ice

Thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds left and the money is all yours. You can see it now — the lavish outfits, brand new skates, and even silk hair ties for when you want to play dress up. Mark Lee just has to miss this shot.

“He’s going to fucking make it,” Doyeon hisses in your ear, chewing on her nails in anticipation.

“Shut up!” You push her away and tell her to stop damaging her fingers.

You watch as Mark glides across the ice, almost knocking into Doyoung twice. “Slam him, slam him!” You screech, ignoring the stares of people around you. You simply want to see Mark get wiped out so glory can be within your reach.

You feel your world collapse when the puck hits the net, time stopping in slow motion as the crowd jumps up in pure bliss. Doyeon’s already crying in your shoulder, and you hear the angry shouts of Chaeyoung on your other side.

Mark Lee, you fucking asshole.

—

Since you were five years old, the ice became your home. And no, you didn’t have an awakening and gain powers like Elsa from Frozen. Your mother discovered how much you loved figure skating, even though your brother, Johnny, was a tall, bumbling mess once he stepped in the rink.

Once your talent was discovered, you were enrolled in figure skating classes and spent most of your afternoons gliding around the ice. You were excited to learn that you could possibly do the sport professionally if you practiced hard enough, but nobody told you how difficult the athletics administration could be.

You were scouted for your college because of your talents in figure skating, many believing you would be a great candidate for the Winter Olympics. However, when you arrived to campus, you learned that you would never be the first priority in the athletics budget.

It was a constant battle between figure skating and ice hockey for the money. Most of the funds went to football and basketball anyways, so you didn’t have much to fight for in the first place. The deal made by the athletics department was simple — if the ice hockey team could not carry themselves to a national championship, the rest of their budget would be distributed to your team.

The victory was within reach until Mark Lee scored the winning goal Friday night, making the ice hockey team one step closer to the national title.

You’re currently waiting for them to finish practice, tapping your foot impatiently as you stand besides the opening to the rink. You finally hear the boys finish up, laughing with one another as they exit. Their eyes narrow at the sight of you.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Ten asks.

You smile. “Nope. Sicheng, we need to talk.”

The captain sighs and follows you until you’re out of earshot. “What is it now?”

You scoff. “You know damn well my team deserves the money more than you do. Worlds is just around the corner and we need the money in order to get there.”

Sicheng laughs at you, still holding his helmet from practice in one hand. “Please. Don’t act like you’re doing this for your team, we both know you’re just wanting to advance for yourself.”

If you could punch Sicheng without facing a lawsuit, your life would be so much easier. You take a step closer to him, ignoring the immediate flush in his cheeks at the proximity.

“I hope your team fails at the next game. I’ll be watching when you do.”

“Stop harassing him.” Mark approaches the scene, pulling his captain’s shoulder and pushing him away from you. “Just face that your team won’t make it. Can’t blame us for your failure.”

You smile sweetly at Mark. He’s been haunted ever since Donghyuck leaked his secret that he used to like you during your freshman year. Mark used to follow you around like a lost puppy, but now, he has no hesitation putting you in place. You know you still have the advantage over him because after all, he can’t deny the way his heart beats when he sees you.

Sicheng observes as you grip onto the fabric of Mark’s uniform, pulling him close until his nose is inches away from yours. Mark gulps at the proximity, not feeling so confident anymore.

“Don’t act like if I dropped to my knees right now, you wouldn’t jump at the chance to stuff my mouth full-”

“Okay!” Sicheng exclaims, pulling the blushing boy to his side. Mark’s cheeks are almost as bright as his uniform. Sicheng glares at you. “We’re going to win on Friday. Then, I’m taking your entire team’s budget.”

You smirk. “Good luck with that.”

—

“I’m not sure this is going to work,” Yeji remarks, watching as Doyeon pulls a tight black dress over your head. You roll your eyes at her comment while Chaeyoung helps you adjust the spaghetti straps of your dress.

“Don’t be so negative,” Seojeong flicks Yeji’s forehead, causing the younger girl to glare at her.

You’re all gathered in Doyeon’s living room, trying to hatch out a plan that Yeji believes is doomed to fail. Tonight was the celebratory party before the game, a dumb idea concocted by Donghyuck on every Thursday night. It goes to show how irresponsible the ice hockey team really is, getting wasted the night before their biggest game. However, tonight works in your favor, because as demonstrated just a few days ago, you still have Mark Lee in your waiting palm. All he needs is a little push away from his teammates and you’ve fully got him. Once the plan is in place, you highly doubt Mark will be able to perform well tomorrow. Considering he’s the team’s best player, taking him down secures a win for the figure skating team.

“Does everyone know their roles?” You check again, eyeing Yeji from her spot on Doyeon’s couch.

She scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” Chaeyoung nods. “Remember that this isn’t just for us but the future figure skaters for years to come.”

None of you have time to comment on Chaeyoung’s dramatics, already seeing how stressed she is by the way she tugs at her hair frantically trying to apply lip gloss on you. The girls finish getting you all dolled up when Seojeong gets a text.

“Yuta says Mark’s ready,” she announces. You thank the heavens that Yuta was able to get in the ice hockey’s team good graces, none of them expecting the figure skater to be a double agent.

“Let’s get him then,” you grin.

You’re quickly shoved into Yeji’s tiny car and the five of you are off to Donghyuck’s apartment. There’s commotion when you arrive — Sungchan standing on the couch and declaring Sicheng the cutest man alive, Ten giggling with Yangyang by the kitchen counter, Donghyuck’s tongue shoved down a random girl’s throat and Jeno trying to save Mark from choking in the bathroom. Your eyes meet Yuta’s and he winks at you, making sure no one else has seen your arrival. You lean on the doorframe of Donghyuck’s bathroom, smiling at the two of them. Jeno sees you first, urgently patting Mark’s back to save him.

“What’s wrong? Did he see a naked girl or something?”

Mark’s eyes shoot up at the sound of your voice and he gets even more flustered, coughing and choking even more now.

“Why are you here?” Jeno frowns.

You smile and shrug. “To enjoy the show. I can handle Mark from here, Jeno.”

Jeno laughs. “As if I would leave him with you.”

“But Yeji’s waiting in the living room. Are you really going to keep her waiting?”

You smirk at Jeno’s confliction before he finally gives in, leaving Mark and you in the bathroom. You shut the door while Mark recovers, downing a glass of water to help the food go down. “Why are you really here?” He asks once he’s calmed down. He tries not to linger on what you’re wearing, the swell of your breasts tempting him in this close proximity. His gaze flies to the ceiling when your hand wraps around his shoulder, pulling him in closer and letting his fingers rest on your hip.

“What’s wrong, Mark? Scared of a little action?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he hisses. “We’re going to win tomorrow. You can’t stop me.”

You pout. “Is the win really worth it, Mark? Do you want it more than my pussy around your cock?” He grunts lowly, fingers tightening around your waist. You smile. “Or what about your cock shoved down my throat until I can’t breathe? You could easily bend me over the sink and take me any way you want. Doesn’t that sound so much better?”

“Don’t,” he warns you, cord about to snap. “You’re being such a brat.”

He needs one more push. You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Please, Mark? I want your cum inside me. Need it dripping down my thighs so everyone can see who I belong to.”

He breaks, growling as he pushes you against the sink. You giggle when his lips crash into yours, his hands quickly moving to push up the fabric of your dress. He delivers one slap to your clothed clit and you moan at the sensation.

“Fucking annoying whore,” he scoffs at you. “Look at you. So fucking desperate for money that you would drive all the way here just to take my cock like a good girl. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to fuck you until you cry?”

You nod frantically, whimpering. “Please please please. I want it so badly.”

He shoves two fingers in your dripping hole and you cry, back arching against the mirror. Mark’s fingers grip your cheeks and he turns you so that you’re looking right at him. You hold his stare when his thumb rubs frantically at your clit, fingers curling inside of you.

“S-So good, so good,” you blubber, eyes rolling back at the pleasure filling your veins.

You whine when he retracts his fingers but he’s quick to drop to his knees, ripping your underwear and flinging it to the side so he has no obstacles in his way. He immediately dives into your pussy, licking and sucking at your folds. You internally curse. You had no idea Mark was this good at eating pussy or you would’ve prepared yourself more. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his lips attach to your clit, abusing the nub by sucking harshly.

The pain throws you into your first orgasm, whimpering loudly as you fall apart around Mark’s tongue. He quickly cleans you up, not missing any of your juices as he licks your pussy clean.

His eyes darken when he stands, taking in the sight of you looking so fucked out on top of the bathroom sink. He’s about to unbuckle his belt before you stop him.

“I want to fuck at your place. Please?”

He nods at your request, helping you get down and adjusting your dress. It’s a little harder to walk since Mark ripped your panties, but you make do. You two exit the bathroom and you’re about to leave before you hear Donghyuck’s voice.

“Where the fuck are you two going?”

You glance at Mark, who’s a little irritated by his teammate’s appearance.

“Mind your own fucking business, Donghyuck.”

You smirk at the blonde boy’s shocked expression as you two leave his apartment. Mark walks fast, fumbling with the keys to his car.

“I didn’t know you could drive.”

“Trust me, I can’t.”

The drive to his apartment involves two pit stops, the first one happening because you desperately want to give Mark a blowjob and the second one happening because Mark desperately wants to taste you again.

When you finally get to his apartment, the both of you are already a mess. You don’t even make it to the bedroom — Mark shoving you down on his living room rug and pushing his cock deep inside you. You moan at the intrusion and Mark wastes no time, setting up a fast pace and ramming his cock into your sweet spot over and over again. You’re a drooling mess, letting him abuse your pussy. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls you upwards. He balances you so that your back is against his chest.

“Such a perfect little slut for me. What would the panel of judges at Worlds say when they see you? The future Olympic gold medalist begging for cock?”

“I would let them see,” you whisper back at him. “Let them know what lengths I would go to just to win that fucking competition.”

You fall apart around his cock again, your orgasms coming faster after the first two. You whine when you hear Mark’s constant grunts filling your ears.

“Cum inside, Mark. Want all of your cum.”

“Yeah? Little whore wants it all? Wants to be bred like a good little bitch?”

You cry. “Yes, yes, yes! I want it so badly.”

That’s all it takes for Mark to shoot ribbons of white inside of you, coating your insides. You both collapse on the floor, exhausted.

A few minutes pass in silence before Mark speaks up. “I’m ready to go again after I eat some ramen.”

You laugh. “Make it two servings and I’ll be ready.”

He eagerly gets up and shuffles to his kitchen. You smirk, searching for your phone and shooting a text to the group chat.

I’ve got him. The money’s all ours.

After eating ramen and chatting for a little bit, Mark takes you again on the barstool of his kitchen. Then, he fucks you up against the wall, on his couch and in his bed.

He’s thoroughly fucked out when you two finish and you smile, leaning over to kiss him.

“Good luck with your game tomorrow.”

You leave him laying in his bed, wondering if he just jeopardized the future of his team.

—

There’s one minute left in the game.

The team is down by one point and they’re all looking at Mark as they huddle together. Donghyuck hisses at him.

“Did she fuck you stupid? We’re going to lose everything because of you!”

Mark shakes his head, trying to compose himself. It’s hard to do so when he spots you in the crowd, smiling at him as if you want him to win. You’ve thoroughly fucked with his head, his thoughts constantly traveling to the image of you beneath him, sobbing as he shoves his thick cock into you mercilessly.

“This is your fault, Jeno!” Ten growls. “You should’ve never left Mark alone with her!”

“Everyone, shut up!” Sicheng bellows, annoyed by his teammates. “We’re going to lose if we don’t focus. What’s wrong with you, Mark?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “I think I do.”

Sicheng glares at the younger male to be quiet. “I don’t care what it is anymore. There’s one minute left and I need you to get it together.”

“I will, I will,” Mark insists, even though he’s not so sure about it himself. They break the huddle and get back into the game, Mark trying to focus as the referee blows the whistle. Jung Jaehyun comes charging at him and Mark tries to dodge.

“Come on, Mark!”

As soon as he hears your voice overpower the audience, he loses his balance and Jaehyun slams him up against the wall. Mark groans when he tumbles to the ground and it isn’t long before he hears the final buzzer echo in the rink. The competing team jumps for joy, laughing with one another as they meet in the middle of the ice. Mark stays on the ground, watching pitifully as his teammates slump in defeat.

His eyes look for yours again in the stands, but you’re already long gone.

#nct smut #mark lee smut #mark #mark smut

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straycityam · 3 years

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you’re the only one. ice hockey player!haechan x pregnant!reader. fluff, lil angst. mentions of smut.

“late again, jeno?” haechan teased his teammate as he watched jeno enter the skating ring with a smirk on his face.

“what can i say?” jeno skated towards the rest of his teammates. “had to do my boyfriend duties.”

“in the locker room? nasty!” yangyang teased, making the other teammates laugh.

jeno rolled his eyes before defending himself. “it wasn’t anything nasty. we’re still waiting, unlike haechan.”

this made everyone turn to haechan. “don’t gotta expose me like that man!”

before haechan could defend himself, the team’s coach entered the stadium and informed everyone about today’s plans before the actual game.

“remember, this final round is the most important game of your lives. especially you, haechan. the university scouts are here and are offering sport scholarships. the same one that your seniors, ten, winwin and mark have received. as i was informed by our headmaster, they have their eyes on yangyang and jeno as well. so, please do your very best. especially, the three of you.”

as expected, the practice round went well and it earned the team a well deserved break before the big game.

with haechan messing around with some of his teammates, he spotted the love of his life at the entrance.

“i’ll be back,” haechan informed the team before running off to y/n. “hey, baby,” haechan greeted y/n with a huge smile and kiss on the cheek.

“hey,” y/n responded trying to sound as cheerful as possible. but haechan knew her well enough to know that something was bothering her.

haechan held onto her hands before asking: “what’s on your mind?”

y/n shook her head with a forced smile. “nothing? no thoughts, head empty.”

“baby, that is not the look of “no thoughts, head empty” you usually have,” haechan informed her.

y/n took a deep breath before letting out a deep sigh. “haechan, it’s not important. it can wait until after the game-“

“no,” haechan interrupted her. “anything that concerns you is important to me. if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, then i won’t play the game.”

“haechan-“

“y/n, please,” haechan pleaded, feeling worried about y/n - who ends up spilling.

“i’m pregnant.”

as the two teams were consistently on a tie, the judges decided to go with the team who can shoot the most goals. with that being haechan’s speciality, the team was pretty confident. however, the other team was just as good and haechan was not on his full A game.

all he had on his mind was y/n worried look and the fact that she was pregnant with his kid. he loved y/n with all his heart and hated seeing y/n upset - especially since her parents almost disowned her because she didn’t want to have an abortion. what’s worse is that she looked terrified.

haechan was the final shooter. his shot would determine whether his or the opponent team would final the inter-school championship. haechan was extremely determined to do his best and the stadium cheers gave him even more adrenaline. however, before he could get into position, he sees y/n leaving the stadium with tears in her eyes from the corner of his eye.

this immediately made haechan drop his hockey stick and made his way out the ring and stadium to find y/n. the whole stadium grew extremely quiet as they watched him take off his helmet and skates, with the coach yelling in the background. but it didn’t matter to haechan.

“y/n!” haechan shouted as he chased after y/n. “y/n!”

y/n immediately wiped her tears before turning around to look at haechan in shock. “h-haechan? what are you doing? you should be in the ring-“

haechan interrupted y/n with a very passionate kiss that made y/n tear up again. with his hands gently resting in y/n jaw area, y/n rested hers on his chest.

“i love you,” haechan softly confessed as he broke the kiss. “i love you, and i want to marry you.”

“what?” y/n asked in confusion as she felt her heartbeat real quick.

“let’s get married and live together,” haechan suggested. “let’s raise our child, together.”

“lee donghyuck! are you insane? we can’t do that. your future is-”

“-you,” haechan interrupted y/n with a smile. “it’s you and our child. the both of you are my future.”

y/n shakes her head, emotions overwhelmed and unsure of what to feel. but haechan knew exactly how to put her fears and sadness aside.

“y/n, you’re the only one i want. my hockey career? that can wait. but you? and little us? nothing is more important than that. i promise that i will love you and little us with all my heart. please, marry me.”

#back after a long hiatus #nct dream scenario #nct dream imagine #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct 127 #haechan scenarios #haechan fluff #haechan angst

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raibebe · 3 years

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Love shot

Genre: Tooth rotting fluff Words: 8.590 Prompt: Hockey Player Jeno feat. best friend Jaemin, love letters? Warnings: none..?

A/N: This was written for @woahhwa for the @kafenetwork kafeholidays event! Hi Ru! I had so much fun talking to you when tumblr wasn’t eating my asks! I hope you liked this and it incorporates some of the things you said you liked. Also. Warning: I know absolutely nothing about hockey so please bear with me :] As always thank you to @burtonized for always listening to my rambles and telling me that my writing doesn’t suck. Also literally no one asked for me to put Johnny into this but I am a simple woman and miss him and his gorgeous hair. I am sorry for this horrible title...

The red numbers on the clock over the rink slowly counted down, the last minute of the game beginning. You had your hands tightly clutched together, sitting on the edge of the seat as you watched your home team in the orange and blue tricots trying to defend the last push of the opposing team. Mark Lee - on the defense - body checked the opposing wing player, who had been pushing forward, hardly into the banister, causing him to lose the puck. Quick on his feet like always, Ten snatched it from him and took a sharp turn to avoid the second wing player, using his smaller size to his advantage so he could push forward into the last third before the huge defender of the opposing team tackled him harshly. But like the genius player he was, Donghyuck had anticipated it, screaming Ten’s name at the top of his lungs so the elder had the time to pass the puck on to his wingplayer. Using his momentum from following Ten, Donghyuk pulled both of the opposing defenders towards him, leaving the star player of the team - Lee Jeno - free right in front of the goalie. A huge mistake. With a mischievous grin on his lips, Donghyuck waited until the very last second to pass the puck straight to Jeno who didn’t hesitate even for a second to take his shot: Hitting the puck with all his strength, he sent the rubber flying right past the goalie’s body, slamming into the net of the goal.

The crowd around you erupted in loud screams and cheers, everyone jumping up from their seats and celebrating the last minute goal as the red timer on the scoreboard ticked down to zero, the loud noise of a horn mixing with the cheers of the students. In the middle of all of this you were hugging your best friend, screaming loudly before turning back to look into the rink where the other boys had buried Lee Jeno beneath them, hockey sticks scattered around them. The other team had already angrily left the rink, collecting their stuff to make their way to the locker rooms when the boys finally let off and let their MVP breathe. Grinning broadly they took their helmets off one by one, shaking out their matted hair and just like after every game, the sight of Jeno’s midnight blue messy hair took your breath away. Once you could muster up the courage to talk to him, you wanted to ask if he had dyed it to match the color of their blue and orange jerseys. But even though you went to every single one of their home games and sometimes even went down to the rink to congratulate them, you had yet to speak more than three words with their handsome center forward player with the 23 on his back.

“Let’s go down to congratulate them, this was insane,” Jaemin said before already pulling you down the stairs against the tide of people that were already leaving. A couple of the player’s friends had already gathered at the rink, cheering them on and clapping them on their padded shoulders. You could make out the University’s heartthrob Johnny Suh - a volleyball player himself - fondly petting his best friend’s head which made Ten smile brighter than the harsh lights that illuminated the ice. A group of other boys from your year that you knew from a couple of your courses had rounded Donghyuck and Mark and looked like they were currently mocking the elder for his misplay that had led to the early goal of the opposing team, leaving their goalkeeper Yangyang almost no time to react. With a loud thud Jeno joined the circle, clinging to Mark’s back who cried out in pain from how hard the impact had been. The newest addition to the team, a tall freshman with the number 27 on his back, awkwardly shuffled on the ice before the team captain - Sicheng - pulled him over to where they were celebrating.

“Yooooo, boys this was sick!” Jaemin called out when he jumped down the last couple of steps before joining his friends who had stopped mocking Mark for a little while. But that wouldn’t be for long and you knew it. You had been their fan for quite some time now and knew that Donghyuck would not let Mark live and would bother him about it for a long time. “Watch your back, stupid,” you mumbled after your best friend who had been part of the team last year but had to quit playing for an undefined amount of time due to some issues with his back. He was the one who had originally gotten you into this sport which had led to your crush on Lee Jeno. So basically Na Jaemin was the reason you had the worst everlasting crush on a boy you barely knew and were way too shy to talk to even if he shared a ridiculous number of classes with you this year. But to Lee Jeno you must just be Jaemin’s weird friend he still knew from his childhood.

Slowly you approached the circle of boys, trying to hide as much of your face as possible in the bright orange scarf you had wrapped around your neck to shield yourself from the cold of the stadium. Jaemin was already retelling the highlights of the game in rapid-fire double time rapping speed, gesturing broadly and making the players laugh. “If you were to commentate the games they would probably be twice as fun to watch,” you spoke your mind when your best friend had to take a deep breath, making all of them stare at you which promptly lead to blood to rush to your face. “Yoooo, that would be such a good idea,” Mark broke the silence, his eyes wide, “Since you know all the rules and stuff.” “Also I wouldn’t be biased at all,” Jaemin just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he can’t just trash talk the other team during the whole game,” Sicheng threw in. “But it would be fun,” Yangyang mused. He had finally managed to get all of his extra protective gear off, his dark hair hanging into his eyes. “You should try it, Jaem,” Jeno also agreed. “I’d rather join you on the ice, you know,” your best friend mumbled, shooting the rink a longing gaze. “You’ll be back with us in no time once your back is healed,” Sicheng smiled, patting him on the shoulder with his still gloved hand, “Just give me a call and I’ll unlock the rink for you to make a couple of rounds.” “What am I, a short track athlete?” Jaemin grumbled but nodded his head anyways. He had been an amazing sprinter until he had exchanged the goggles and tight suits for heavy padding and a stick some time in high school.

“What’s this gloomy atmosphere? We won guys!” Ten shouted over from where he had been talking to Johnny and some other upperclassman, “Let’s get out of these uniforms and have some food to celebrate, Sicheng is paying.” “I am what?” The team captain protested but his complaints were lost in the cheers of the younger members of the team who quickly scrambled to get to the lockers to shower and change, their stomachs always bottomless holes after an intense game. “Let’s go home then,” Jaemin suggested, raking a hand through his caramel hair. You could tell he was still sad about not being able to be with his boys but he made an effort to hide his inner struggle. “Jaem!” A voice called you back when you turned to climb up the stairs and Lee Jeno skidded effortlessly over the ice to roughly collide with the side of the rink again. “You know you can join us, right?” A smile spread over your friend’s lips but he shook his head. “I can’t leave this one all to herself.” “The more the merrier,” Jeno just answered, looking you straight in the eye which lead to your heart missing a beat or two. He was covered in sweat and his hair was matted to his head, he should not have looked this attractive to you with his stupid half-moon eye smile and mole beneath his right eye. “I- I don’t want to mess up your all-boys time,” you tried to politely decline, scolding yourself for stuttering like this. You did not need to make an even bigger fool out of yourself. “It’s fine, really. Mark’s girlfriend is probably going to join us as well,” Jeno reassured you, “I’ll see you two outside!” He quickly added before crossing the rink again to disappear into the lockers, not leaving you two any more chance to decline.

“We’re not going to say no to a free meal, are we?” Jaemin grinned. “Wipe that grin off your face Nana,” you grumbled, scolding yourself for going for comfortable and warm clothes instead of pretty ones. What would Jeno think of you in your oversized blue hoodie and orange scarf? “Stop stressing, I can hear you thinking,” your friend whined, pulling you out of the by now empty stadium. “I look like a potato.” “No you don’t. You look fine. Jeno is not into the whole dolled up thing anyways.” Slapping his arm hard, you looked around if any of the players had already changed and overheard his comment. “You better keep your mouth shut, Na Jaemin or may god have mercy over you,” you hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he innocently blinked his eyes at you. “Na Jaemin, I swear to god. If you make me look like a fool in front of my crush that I should have never admitted to you, I WILL make you regret it.” “You don’t need me to make a fool out of yourself,” your best friend laughed, just barely dodging the punches you threw at him.

“Please be nice,” you whispered when the boys came out from the locker after a couple of minutes, their hair still damp from the shower they must have taken, their bags slung over their shoulders. Pictures of what a certain forward player must look like beneath his heavy padding and jersey flooded your mind for a second and you had to fight the heat that threatened to creep up on your cheeks. Mark’s girlfriend who had arrived a couple of minutes earlier and who you two had already told about the game, raced to fling herself into her boyfriend’s arms, giggling loudly when he almost toppled over from being thrown off balance. Somehow that image tugged at your heart and you wished that one day when you were finally not too shy to talk to Jeno, this could be the two of you.

Dinner was filled with a lot of loud laughter and just mildly annoyed waiters at the restaurant that had the best hot pot in town or so Sicheng claimed. But you really couldn’t even blame the poor waitress that had to deal with the hyped up hockey players. You mostly kept quiet, listening to their bickering and their stories. Donghyuck only retold how Mark had messed up in today’s game about three more times until he earned himself a rather hard slap to the back of his head from both Mark and Jeno. During the whole time you tried to steal secret glances at the forward player, admiring how fluffy his hair got after it had dried and how his glasses would fog up from the heat of the food until he took them off with an adorable but also really annoyed huff, stuffing them into the pocket of his neon green hoodie that should have looked ridiculous but he could pull it off. At this point you thought that he would look good in a plastic bag. God you really had it bad for him.

“Alright children, it’s bed time,” Ten exclaimed after everyone’s bellies were full, clapping his hands, “We should leave quickly so Sicheng can pay for the meal.” The team captain just sighed and leaned back in his seat while the others quickly shuffled around to sort out their bags and their jackets to hurry out of the restaurant, muttering words of thanks to Sicheng. You felt bad for him and lingered behind for a little before pressing a note into his hands that he declined with a little smile. “It’s fine,” he shook his head, handing the money back, “One mouth more or less doesn’t matter.” “Thank you for the meal, Sicheng,” you smiled. “Thank you for your support, you’re at every of our games, aren’t you?” Flustered you followed him to the register where a woman took his card to pay for the meal. “I try to make it. Jaemin doesn’t like going alone when he’s not allowed to play and I really enjoy watching you guys play. Your freshman really did so well.” “Sungchan is really talented,” Sicheng nodded, “He is such a great assent to the team and he compliments Jeno well. He’ll give Jaemin a run for his money when he comes back.” Smiling, you nodded. “I hope he’ll recover fast, he really misses you guys.” Taking his card back, Sicheng grimaced at the receipt. “We all miss him.”

Stepping outside in the cold, you were glad you had brought your thick jacket, your breath came out in little white clouds and Jaemin’s nose was already red. “I thought you’d never come back out, I am freezing over here,” he complained. Rolling your eyes at your roommate, you quickly said goodbye to Sicheng who once again told Jaemin to give him a call if he wanted to use the rink to skate for a while. On the way over to your apartment a little off of campus, you both kept quiet, each lost in your own thoughts. Even through your thick layers of clothing, the cold began seeping into your bones and you buried your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. But instead of the soft material of the inside of the pockets, your right hand came into contact with a neatly folded piece of paper. Confused you pulled it from your jacket and unfolded it. You didn’t remember stuffing that in there. In neat handwriting, a single sentence was written:

You look so pretty in blue.

What? You were so perplexed, you halted in your steps, staring at the piece of paper as if it would tell you what in the world was going on or how it had ended up in your pocket. Had one of the boys snuck the note into you jacket when they all had left before you and Sicheng? But why would any of them do that? What if... What if it had been Jeno? No, that couldn’t be. He was way out of your league and most definitely confident enough to tell you in person if he liked the honestly very much not special or pretty blue hoodie. “Hello? Earth to best friend?” Jaemin’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. He was standing a couple of steps in front of you, a questioning look on his features. “Did you just remember you left the stove on or something?” “N... No,” you muttered, shaking your head before shoving the note back into your pocket, catching up to Jaemin.

What you didn’t know was that would not be the last weird note you would find. The next one didn’t take long. You found it stuffed in your bag between your books on your second class of the day. Trying to not catch your friend’s attention so you wouldn’t have to explain the note, you carefully and secretly unfolded it to read the neatly written sentence.

You look great today, have a great start into the new week! Fighting!

Not unlike last time, you wondered who could have dropped the note into your bag. And when? Looking around the class you were currently in, your eyes caught on Lee Jeno’s midnight blue hair just a couple of seats in front of you. Had he been in your previous class as well? You couldn’t remember. But even if he had been, it was just wishful thinking that he had been the one to write the note. It was most likely a cruel joke someone was playing on you. Sighing you crumbled the piece of paper and focused back to what your professor was saying, trying to concentrate on taking notes instead of daydreaming while staring holes into Lee Jeno’s head like you had done way too often in this class. You weren’t very successful and when Jeno answered a question the professor had thrown at the class flawlessly, earning himself a couple of back pats from his friends that were seated around him, you couldn’t help but sigh. God, why did he have to be both smart and incredibly handsome? And on top of that a very talented hockey player.

A slap from your friend to your shoulder brought you back from your daydream to find the professor staring at you intensely. Shit. What had he asked? “Alright miss, I’d like a word with you after class. Now who can answer my question instead?” He spoke and you just wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

For the rest of the class you were just imagining all the worst case scenarios in your head of what the strict professor would scold you about. Would he make you do extra work for the class? Give you a bad grade all together? Or just humiliate you further? “Alright class, that will be it for today, you’re dismissed. Don’t forget to do the reading for next week and hand in your assignments on time,” the professor dismissed the class, immediately finding your eyes to nod his head sharply to indicate he hadn’t forget about you zoning out.

Discouraged after the scolding you had gotten from your professor about dozing off in his classes, you climbed the stairs to your seat to pack your stuff to go hide in your room until everyone would have forgotten how embarrassing the whole situation had been, especially Lee Jeno and his friends. But yet again another note was placed right on top of your notebook, seemingly written in a haste and carelessly ripped out of its original page.

Don’t take it to heart, it could have happened to anyone. Cheer up!

Okay maybe the someone who was writing you these notes actually wasn’t playing jokes on you and actually cared about you. You’d be lying if the few words hadn’t made you feel any better.

Over the next few weeks you found more and more notes. Some longer than others, some just a few hastily written words. Some were just a quick cheer up to help you get through a long day of class, some compliments about your outfit or your hair and some even little stories about the day of your admirer. Somehow you felt like you got to know him a little through his little messages. You even dared to say you looked forward to finding more and more notes.

One time your secret admirer even left you a coffee on your table at the library when you had gotten up from your seat to get more books to look up some information for the essay you were trying to finish. When you got back to your seat, you looked around quickly to see if the admirer was still around. But you only saw more students perched over books or their laptops, typing away. Just when you were about to get back to your own project, a white hoodie caught your eye between the dull lighting and brown colors of the library. Below a mop of blue hair, Lee Jeno shortly smiled at you from behind his glasses, toasting towards you with his own cup of coffee and you couldn’t help but notice that it was from the same shop the steaming cup in front of you was from. Picking it up, you toasted back and took a small sip to not completely burn your tongue before examining the cup which just said your name with a little heart on it. It could have been just a coincidence that Jeno chose to get coffee from the same place your admirer had. The shop was just a few meters from the library after all but the way Jeno had smiled at you, not his usual bright smile but something maybe a little more shy, made you believe it could actually have been him and you really hoped that he actually was.

But today you hadn’t found a single note from your admirer and for some reason that was really bothering you. He had managed to sneak you at least a little note every day for a while now. And you still hadn’t figured out how he did it. Or when. You didn’t leave your bag or jackets unattended for long periods of time and it seriously baffled by how sneaky he must be.

“Stop staring holes into the air and get back to work,” your coworker Yuta scolded you, clapping a hand on your back on his way past you. “I’m sorry, I was lost in my head,” you apologized but he just shrugged his shoulders as he collected the mugs a group of students had left behind. “Exams?” He asked as he came back, putting the mugs into the sink. “Something like that,” you lied. You really didn’t know the upperclassman well enough to vent to him about how someone you didn’t even knew who they were send you secret messages and somehow they hadn’t done it today yet. Before Yuta could ask any further questions, the bell on the door jingled happily, announcing the arrival of a new set of customers. “I’ll go, bring those to the back,” your coworker instructed you. Sighing, you bunched up your sleeves to stack up all the dishes that had been piling up in the front during the time Yuta and you had been too busy with orders to put them in the big dishwasher in the kitchen.

With a couple of freshly washed cups and plates you emerged back into the main room to see Yuta flirting with the group of girls that had just come in to probably order some way too overpriced season special with more sugar than actual coffee in it. Of course only after they had been completely charmed by the objectively speaking very pretty foreigner with a silver tongue. Rolling your eyes at the group, you instead made your way to where the customers were sitting to check if anyone new had come in while you were in the back. After most classes were over for the day, the cozy café usually filled up with students pretty fast; either to relax for a little before going to the library or to discuss group projects.

Today was no different and you easily spotted a group of boys from one of your courses squished together in one of the booths, your best friend smiling brightly at you when he saw you approach. “My favorite waitress is working,” he spoke, awkwardly hugging your waist from his sitting position. “You just want my employee discount,” you fondly rolled your eyes at a now pouting Jaemin, “So what can I get you.” You quickly collected all the boy’s orders including Jaemin’s horrendous deathpresso. “Oh, add another iced Americano, someone is still missing,” Donghyuck called after you when you had confirmed their orders, a knowing smirk on his lips. Quickly scribbling another one on your little notepad, you didn’t look where you were going and suddenly collided with a very solid chest and you were pretty sure you would have fallen if it was not for the customer’s quick reflexes. So instead of on the floor, you found yourself pressed against his chest, his perfume clouding your senses. “Careful where you’re going,” he said and you could already tell that your eyes would meet ones with the color of molten amber, hidden behind a cute pair of round glasses, before you even looked up to see Lee Jeno’s smile. “You... You too,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up, quickly scrambling back a step. “Are you alright?” He asked, looking you up and down once. “Yeah, I was just taking your orders, I’ll be right back,” you tried to smile while trying to tell your heart to stop beating like you had just ran a marathon. “I’ll help you carry, we’re quite a few people.” “No, it’s fine really,” you quickly declined, “This is my job after all. “I feel bad for running into you though, let me help,” Jeno insisted, a slight pout on his lips that you really could not resist. When you ended up nodding, his whole face lit up with his famous eye smile and your insides might have just melted a little. While he was quickly putting his bag down and greeting his friends, you busied yourself with the orders. Yuta was still no help whatsoever, telling one of the girls an obnoxious story of how he had ended up at a university in Korea. You barely held back your laugh when the girls gasped, their eyes glued to Yuta. The story might have been impressive to you if you hadn’t heard it about 30 times already, always a little different but always pretty far from the actual truth.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Jeno ripped your attention from your coworker when he leaned against the counter to watch you work the big coffee machine. “I was working in a different shop a little off campus before,” you smiled, focusing on pouring the milk into one of the cups of coffee to form a pretty picture. “You’re really good at making them look pretty,” Jeno complimented you, his cheeks tinted a rosy color. “It’s just practice,” you mumbled, hiding your own shyness behind the counter to quickly grab the cake slices the boys had ordered. An awkward silence hung over the two of you while you worked on finishing the other drink orders (it always took a ridiculous amount of time to make Jaemin’s) and your brain ran on overdrive trying to come up with a topic to talk to Jeno to fill up the silence while willing your hands to not shake and make a fool out of yourself in front of him.

“Do... Do you work between classes?” You chose to ask in the end, scolding yourself immediately for asking what must be the most lame, basic question ever. “I hardly have time between classes and practice,” Jeno explained nonetheless, scrunching his nose adorably to push up his glasses,” I’m here on a scholarship so I have to show results in hockey or I’ll be out.” “Ooh, I didn’t know that. But you’re really good so it shouldn’t be a surprise,” you spoke your mind before you could think about the words but as soon as it registered, your face immediately was heating up. Jeno just laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not bad I guess. It’s just a lot of practice, it’s nothing special,” he mirrored the words you had said earlier, an easy smile on his lips. “Even I can see you have an unfair amount of talent for hockey, Jeno.” At that he barked out a short laugh. “You should have seen me when I stood on the ice for the first time, I couldn’t even skate in a straight line without falling on my ass, no idea what the scouts saw in me when they talked to my mum to recruit me.” “I bet you’re just being modest,” you argued. “I am not I swear,” he laughed, “I was really bad but I trained a lot so I could make the team. I’m not like Donghyuck who can just skip half of practice because he’s hungover. I have to work for it.” “That makes it even more admirable,” you mumbled, not able to look him in the eye when you spoke the words even though you meant them with all your heart. “Th- Thank you,” Jeno stuttered and when you looked up at his face again, you could see that his ears were bright red. “I mean it,” you smiled and when he finally met your eyes you couldn’t help but get lost in his for a while.

“And you tell me to stop flirting with customers,” Yuta broke whatever moment you just had with Jeno and shoved you from the spot on the coffee machine. “I wasn’t,” you tried to argue but your colleague just clocked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I... I wouldn’t mind if you were,” Jeno mumbled so quietly you had almost missed it, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach and a smile to creep onto your lips again. “We should bring the drinks over,” you smiled, grabbing the tray that held the drinks so Jeno could take the one with the cakes. “Ye... Yeah, orders, drinks, sure,” he stuttered, grabbing the second tray and following you through the café back over to where his friends were seated. “I thought you would never come back,” Jaemin already whined, grabbing his deathpresso off of your tray. “It takes a while to make eight freaking extra shots of espresso,” you scolded your best friend while giving out the rest of the orders to the other boys who all agreed, joining in on telling Jaemin how unhealthy his coffee drinking habits were. “Let me know if you need anything else,” you smiled politely when everyone had gotten their respective drinks, leaving the boys to banter playfully.

Over the course of your shift, the boys stayed to study and ordered another round of hot drinks before they left just shy of the ending of your shift. Jeno threw you another shy smile and a little sweater pawed wave when they left the shop that almost send you into cardiac arrest. “I’ll clean that table and then head out,” you announced to Yuta who was glued to his phone, checking his twitter feed. Among the chaos of used napkins and dishes, you found a neatly folded piece of paper with your name neatly written on it, a little heart drawn in the corner that set you own one racing again. You quickly put it in your pocket and cleared the rest of the table, all but throwing the dishes into the dishwasher at the back so you could get out of your apron and take a look at the note your secret admirer had left. While you were changing into your warm jacket, you couldn’t help but to think and to hope that Jeno had left it for you. After all he had been at both the gatherings that had led to you finding these notes and he also shared lot of classes with you where he could technically have slipped you a note or two. And on top of that he had also been at the library when the coffee incident happened.

Once you stepped out of the café and into the cool air of the early evening, you sat down on one of the benches surrounding the building to read the little note in peace.

You look so cute when you’re concentrating on making pretty latte art, did you know that? I loved the little talk we had but I am too shy to talk to you. Can you tell by these notes? My friends all make fun of me for writing cheesy notes instead of manning up to actually talk to you. I don’t even know if you would want to meet me. But if you want to, then meet me at the ice rink tomorrow at 7pm. I’ll be waiting for you there, I promise.

You couldn’t hold in the little shriek of joy that made its way past your lips. It had to be Jeno. It couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be him. Holding the little note close to your furiously beating heart, you smiled and kicked your legs in joy before storing it carefully into your bag. Jaemin better be ready to help you choose an outfit for tomorrow and listen to you whine without asking too many questions about who you were actually going to meet.

When you arrived at the stadium the next day, clutching the note tightly in your hand, you double checked the time and carefully looked around before you tried to open the front door which to your surprise was actually unlocked. Taking a deep breath, you went in, closing the door firmly behind you before walking up to the second door that would take you to the bleachers. Slowly you pulled it open as well, hoping it wouldn’t make too much noise. The rink itself was just dimly lit, most of the lights turned off and on the ice there was a single figure skating around the perimeter, seemingly lost in their thoughts while aimlessly taking sharp turns that send pieces of ice flying, making the skids screech. You would have recognized that person between hundreds of other skaters, the midnight blue hair easily giving him away.

Jeno seemingly hadn’t noticed you yet and it gave you time to sort out your racing heart and thoughts. Had it really been him to write you all the sweet notes that you had begun to collect in a little box you hid from Jaemin in a box beneath your bed? Or was the universe playing a prank on you and it was just a coincidence that he was practicing right now, alone at night. But then again no one else was around and he really wasn’t dressed for practice, just wearing one of his big hoodies and jeans. It had to be his notes. And thinking back on it, he really had been the only person who had been at the same places, the notes had been showing up. From the dinner with the hockey team to the ones in your classes and at your work or in the library.

Slowly you made your way down the steps of the bleachers, keeping quiet so you wouldn’t disturb Jeno who was still skating around the rink. Once you arrived at the bottom row of seats, you took a seat next to a pair of skates and a pair of sneakers that probably belonged to Jeno. Sitting in silence, you watched his movements for a while. He was captivating to watch: Seeing him effortlessly glide over the ice before suddenly sprinting forward only to come to an abrupt halt or take a sharp turn. It was beyond you how he held his balance through it all.

Suddenly he halted in his moves completely to stare at the big clock on the back wall of the stadium that showed that it was fifteen minutes past seven already before he sighed deeply, raking a hand through his fluffy hair. Was he nervous? Nervous you wouldn’t come? Just when he was taking off, his eyes caught your figure and he stopped again, a big smile spreading across his face that made his eyes curl into the beautiful half-moon shape you adored. While you were busy trying to remember how to breathe, he was skating towards you, effortlessly jumping from the ice through a little door in the rink, walking towards you. “You came,” he beamed, kneeling down in front of you after he had grabbed the skates that were still lying next to you. “Yeah I did,” you answered, still not entirely sure what to make of this situation. With how fast your heart was beating, it must have climbed all the way up to your throat and you weren’t sure if you could have produced a proper sentence if you wanted to.

“I hope I didn’t misinterpret all of this,” Jeno mumbled while he carefully undid your shoelaces before slipping them off your feet, “And you’re just here to tell me to stop being creepy and not leave any more notes around.” The way he looked up at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs tugged at your heart and you couldn’t find any words to tell him just how okay you were with this, so you just nodded, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the skin feeling way too hot against the cold of the stadium. Smiling brightly Jeno quickly prepared the skates to slip onto your feet and laced them up tightly, his nimble fingers working fast and efficient. “Is this alright? Not too tight?” “Seems fine,” you smiled back at him, experimentally wiggling your toes. “Alright,” Jeno smiled, extending a hand to you. “Come on, let’s go.”

Shyly, you took his hand to let him pull you upright. On wobbly feet, you followed him to the little door in the rink, letting him step onto the ice first. “I’ve never done this before,” you confessed, almost reflexive reaching your gloved hands out towards him which he took with a gentle smile, squeezing them reassuringly. “I won’t let you fall,” he promised, tightening the grip on your hands. “Okay,” you whispered, carefully stepping onto the slippery ice, unsure how to work with the skates. “You’re a natural,” Jeno beamed when you finally stood with both feet on the ice. “I- I don’t know,” you shied away from the praise, wishing you could hide in your big scarf. “Hold on tightly now,” the hockey player warned before he skillfully moved his legs so he was sliding backwards, effectively pulling you with him. A little surprised sound escaped your lips and you clutched his hands tightly, worrying your gaze to your feet where you tried to stabilize yourself and keeping the skids up right.

“Don’t think so much about it. Look at me,” Jeno’s voice cut through the soft scratching noises of the skates. “I’ll fall if I do,” you argued. Also your heart would most likely leap out of your chest if you did. As if it wasn’t already beating furiously enough now that you were basically on a date with your crush and he was holding your hands. “I told you that I won’t let you fall,” he promised, slowing down his own movements until you came to a halt. Steadying yourself on the skates, you took a deep breath before looking up to meet Jeno’s eyes. And just like that time stood still. Under the dimmed lights in the stadium, it felt like you two were the only people on this planet. You got lost in the deep brown shade of his eyes and adored how his nose and cheeks were tinted a pretty blush color from the cold. “Hey there,” he whispered, tucking your scarf neatly around your neck where it had come undone, the gesture so intimate, it made your breath hitch. “Hi,” you answered dumbly and it made him smile, his eyes curving into the beautiful half-moon eye smile.

Before you could do anything stupid like coo hat how pretty he looked, his smile turned into a mischievous grin and he quickly let go of your hands to skid backwards a couple of meters further towards the center of the rink. “Jenoooo,” you whined once you had found your balance again, glaring to where he was making a couple of sharp turns, creating indents in the smooth ice and sending pieces flying. “Come over,” he called, opening his arms wide. “You just want to see me fall.” “You won’t, have some faith in yourself. Just kick with your skates until you gain momentum. It’s like walking just with a little more glide.” “Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” “Just try it. For me,” Jeno smiled, sliding a little closer to you and opening his arms again. Sighing, you nodded, balling your hands into fists before you kicked your feet just how you had seen Jeno and the other’s do a hundred times before. Albeit very wobbly and slow, you were sliding over the ice. A smile slowly spread over your face as you kicked your feet again and again and you weren’t even mad when you noticed that Jeno steadily moved backwards to keep you going. “See, you’re a natural,” he beamed but just when he said that, you stumbled over one of the indents he had created earlier when he was showing off. You already prepared yourself to meet the cold unforgiving ice, making a complete fool out of yourself but instead two strong arms curled around you to pull you against a strong chest so you were stabilized again.

“I told you, I wouldn’t let you fall,” Jeno whispered, his hands steady on your waist. “Thank you,” you mumbled, slowly snaking your arms around him as well until your bodies were flush together. For a while you just stood on the ice, hugging each other until your breaths evened out, hearts beating in the same rhythm. “I’m so glad you actually came.” “Why wouldn’t I?” You mumbled into his neck. “Maybe you thought all my notes were creepy.” “I was really confused at first,” you admitted, “I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t think of a reason why anyone would write these to me. I was waiting for someone to bring up the topic so they could make fun of me. But deep down I really wished it was you who was writing them and that you actually meant everything you wrote.” The longer you spoke, the more you felt your face heat up. “I wish I had more courage to actually ask you out properly,” Jeno confessed, his voice quiet, “I kept seeing you around Jaemin and then you started to come to our matches. And then we ended up in so many of the same courses and guess what you’re not only very pretty but also incredibly smart. And I guess I kind of developed this huge crush on you with your big scarves and hoodies.” “Me... Me too, Jeno,” you whispered, your heart making summersaults in your chest and a smile spreading on your lips. Beneath your fingers you could feel Jeno chuckle. “Will you let me kiss you?” He asked softly and who were you to deny him?

Slowly you lifted your head from his shoulder and he carefully cupped your face before he leaned in to kiss you until your noses were touching. His bangs were tickling your face but you wouldn’t have wanted to have it any other way and crossed the last few centimeters between you to press your lips against his slightly chapped ones. Like you had all time in the world you just stood on the ice, lazily moving your lips together only ever separating to heave in a couple of breathes of air and share a soft giggle before claiming each other’s lips again with hearts beating like one.

Eventually Jeno pulled back when you leaned in to kiss him again, a big smile on his lips when you pouted. “You’ll get another one when you manage to skate a whole round in the rink,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “You’re the worst Lee Jeno,” you kept pouting, “You’re hurting yourself just as much as me.” “Come on, it’s going to be fun,” he smiled, snaking free from your grip to skate around you in quick motions. “Show off,” you mumbled underneath your breath but tried your best to copy his movements to fulfill his quest.

In the end he had been right, once you got the hang of it and didn’t lose your balance every time there was a dent in the ice, it actually as fun to chase each other around the rink even though you knew he was purposefully letting you catch up to him at times to steal more kisses. It still somehow didn’t feel real that you actually were here with Lee Jeno and that you were actually allowed to kiss him just like this. After what felt like hours, Jeno helped you out of your skates and you just sat on the bleachers cuddled up together beneath a blanket, looking down at the rink. “Are you going to see the match tomorrow?” He asked. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Jeno just hummed, a blush creeping up his cheeks and ears, this one definitely not from the cold. What was making him shy all of a sudden? “Would you... I mean... If you wanted to... Would you,” he stuttered before he groaned loudly and grabbed your hands tightly, “Willyouwearmyjackettothegame?” “What?” “My jacket... Would you wear it tomorrow?” He asked again, slower this time but still not meeting your eyes, instead looking at your interlocked hands. “Do you want me to?” You asked him back, a big smile on your lips. “I mean... I understand if this is a little fast but... But I’ve had this crush on you for the longest time and... And I would really like to show everyone that you’re you know...” “That I’m your girlfriend?” “Y... Yeah,” he admitted, shyly looking at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs. “Of course I will,” you smiled broadly, throwing your arms around him to hug him close.

And you did. After you and Jeno had talked for a little while longer about everything and nothing at all (and maybe some more kissing) until you had yawned more than he found acceptable, he had quickly run to the locker rooms to fetch his jacket that he had promptly laid over your shoulders on your way home. In front of your apartment building he had kissed you goodbye and wished you sweet dreams before he walked away to his own dorm room that he shared with Donghyuck so you had found out. You turned the key as silently as you could so you wouldn’t wake up your best friend who was out cold on the small sofa in your living room, the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ screen illuminating the room. Shaking your head, you draped a blanket over the sleeping boy and turned the TV off before getting ready for bed as well. The next morning you had to explain why you had Jeno’s jacket to a screaming Jaemin at an ungodly hour but in the end he was just excited as you were if not more because he didn’t have to hear both of you pining anymore because he had promised Jeno not to meddle.

You slipped into Jeno’s big jacket when you and your friend where about to leave so you wouldn’t be late to the match, you couldn’t help but smile, snuggling deep into the collar until your boyfriend’s smell engulfed you like a blanket. “Stop being gross or the best seats will be taken,” your best friend complained, tugging you with him and filling the way over to the stadium with chatter. “There are so many people,” you exclaimed when you had entered the stadium, looking around for free seats. “It’s the highlight of the season, what did you expect?” Jaemin asked, tugging you further down when he spotted Mark’s girlfriend waving excitedly at your two. She also was wearing a jacket with the name ‘Lee’ on the back just that hers had a big blue 2 on the back and not a 23 like yours. “You and Jeno?” She excitedly jumped up and down when she had spotted your jacket and you could only nod shyly. “I’m so happy for you. Mark told me how Jeno kept pining after you.”

“What’s with all the Lees over here?” A male voice cut in before you could answer anything and Johnny Suh sat down next to Jaemin, not clad in his usual dark red jacket with his name and the 9 on the back but in a rather small orange one with a giant blue 10 on the back. “You’ll fit right in,” Mark’s girlfriend chirped, making Johnny blush and hide his face in his knitted scarf, mumbling something about how stupid it was that it had to be so cold to play hockey and how much rather he’d be in his heated gym. “The joy of dating Korean guys,” Jaemin laughed, jumping up and climbing in a seat the row above you, “Let me take a picture, this is hilarious.” “Ten and Mark aren’t even Korean,” Johnny argued, “But Leechaiyapornkul would have been a bit excessive to put on a jacket.”

The rest of his argument was drowned out by the cheers that erupted when the players came from their lockers, the starting 6 quickly rounding the rink, making a couple of sharp turns and going through moves with their stick. Being their center forward player, Jeno was in the starting team along with Sungchan and Donghyuck. On the defense, Winwin and Mark were checking their gear before the captain made sure that all of Yangyang’s protective gear was on right. In the meantime Jeno was searching the bleachers and you couldn’t help but feel shy before you waved at him, jumping up and down so he would notice you. Because of the helmet you couldn’t know if he smiled at you but your heart made summersaults nonetheless when you playfully put on the hood of the jacket to show him that you were indeed wearing it. You imagined him laughing before he blew you a kiss with an over exaggerated movement that made quite a few people turn their heads to see who he could have blown the kiss to. Before you could even think about hiding, Johnny gripped your arm tightly and hissed: “If I am out here wearing Ten’s stupid jacket that is way too small for me while he refuses to wear mine in public because he’s not some trophy wife, you will not hide now.” Not knowing whether you should be afraid of Johnny or laugh at what really sounded like something Ten would say, you just nodded at the blonde, straightening out your back. From the opposite side you could see Ten sitting in the exchange box, a huge grin on his face when he must have spotted Johnny in the crowd (which really wasn’t that hard, the dude was unnecessarily tall).

“They better win this game or I will be mad,” the blonde grumbled when everyone had sat back down and the referee had called both team captains over. “It’s going to be a tight game,” Jaemin filled him in, “The gorillas have been on a roll for the past couple of games. But I have the feeling that a couple of players might just try extra hard today, trying to show off.” At the end, he threw both Johnny and you a very over exaggerated look completed with wiggling eyebrows which earned him slaps from both of you. “Now shut your mouth, Na Jaemin, I actually want to see this game.” “Wow she gets a hot hockey player as her boyfriend and suddenly she doesn’t need my top notch commentating anymore, that hurts.” “Shut up, Nana,” you smiled, focusing back to where in fact your boyfriend was playing on the ice just now. And even if you loved to see Jeno playing, you couldn’t wait for the game to be over to be back in his arms to congratulate him.

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daegall · 3 years

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Kiss her you fool! teaser

↳ 4 times you best friend has wanted to punch you. Your lips. With his.

pairing: ice hockey player! hyuck x reader

genre: fluff, angst (like a bit ig), best friends to lovers! AU

warnings: (in teaser) none, (in fic) hyuck whacks someone in the face with a hockey stick oop

word count: (teaser) 446, (in fic) estimated 9k or more AAA

a/n: OH MY GOD MY FIRST REAL FIC AJWIURAODH this is for @lucas-wongs 's (previously hosted by leesmrk but deactivated) nct sports collab !! i actually was planning this for a long time but had no motivation so i joined a collab and here i am a week (or so) later :)

this teaser has one of the 4 times hyuck wants to kiss you :00 please do wait for the fic to come out and look forward to it!! estimated next 2 weeks? next week? idk if i'll have the motivation to fucking read through all 9k+ words to finds typos or any refinement UODHFA

networks: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @kokonomi @twozeronet (wow look yet another network DHIWUSK)

taglist: @rrnhyuck (THE TAG DONT WORK????? DUMBLR WTF) @junglewoos @dreamyyang @jaeminallover @taeyonggalaxy @eggbutnotyolk @sakusakei-omi @m1ss-foodi3 @btssf9nct

full fic out!! you can read it here <3

You walk into the cold ice rink with painted cheeks and the bucket hat you made with Sungchan before he even got into the team. He was a big fan and looked up to Donghyuck, now here he is, gearing up with the people who he admired. You are so proud of that kid.

Taking a seat at the promised area Donghyuck told you to sit in, you shove your cold hands into your coat pockets, trying to warm up with the slight cold nipping at your skin. You’re glad the stadium is starting to fill, then you would feel warmer with people around you.

You glance at your phone seeing the funny texts your friends leave. They’re all screaming about being late because Ryujin told them the game was at 5:30, not 4:30.

You snicker at all the chaos that they update you on, unaware of your best friend poking his head out of the changing room, head whipping around to try and find you.

His whole body lights up when he finally sees you, in your gators bucket hat and decorations on your cheeks, it gives him so much energy just looking at it. He couldn’t clearly make the writings out with your head bowed down as you texted your friends, but now with it up, he sees his number on your face, feeling giddy.

Yangyang sticks his head out as well, gasping at the many people, and the lots of people wearing green for the gators. “Woaahh! We have so many supporters!!”

Soon, the whole team is glancing outside, gaping at all the people rooting for them, but Donghyuck can only focus on you, your smile when someone points out your small decorations, the decorations itself, especially the bright red ‘66’ painted in your right cheek.

There it is again. The urge to kiss you. He wants to drop all his shit, skate up to you even only half geared up, and kiss you senseless. Maybe be witty and use the ‘warming up, it’s cold’ excuse.

He doesn’t care about the people watching, heck, even the game. All he wants to do is show you his gratitude, his love for doing so special for him and his team, he wants to pepper kisses all over your beautifully painted cheeks.

A sudden, painful slap is surging and pulsing throughout Donghyuck’s shoulder, and he turns around to see Sicheng, a playful smirk on his face. “No time to simp, Haechan! Get ready and stretch, we’re out in a few.”

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sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

Text

let’s break the ice | m.l | one

🏒 SYNOPSIS— in which you’re attending your college team’s hockey practice with your best friend and embarrassment ensues. 🏒 GENRE— fluff, humor, crack, college!au, hockey!au 🏒 PAIRING— hockey captain!mark lee x reader 🏒 WORD COUNT— 1.4k 🏒 WARNINGS— sexual innuendos made!

🏒 AUTHOR’S NOTE—i would like to thank whitney for tweeting the inspiration for this fic and my chaotic ass group chat for all the ideas. i also know nothing about hockey. (read through it twice to edit but i might’ve missed some errors!)

(11/27/2020: edit! surprise! it’s now a mini-series!)

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It’s so cold in the rink but your face is flushing as you blatantly stare at the hockey team gearing up for practice. You don’t exactly understand how the sight of college hockey players gets you riled up but hey, they’re delicious eye candy and their games are extremely entertaining, so you’re one hundred percent here for it.

They’re so close but so far— close enough to hear their conversations but far enough to be separated by the glass.

You’re practically sinking in your seat, ogling the handsome boys hunched over the player’s bench, and Jaemin is shaking your head at you. He pretends to swipe at your lips and then rubs his hand on his pants. “You’re drooling, missy,” he chuckles at how shamelessly you’re admiring the players who also happen to be his close friends.

Bringing up a sleeve to wipe your mouth with your sleeve, you peek down to see nothing wet staining the material. You shoot your best friend a deadpanned look and he snorts at your reaction. “I didn’t bring you along to fawn over this lot of idiots, you know,” he says with a raised brow.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, waving him off with your hand, eyes still glued to the players on the bench. You spot Jeno looking in your direction and he smiles at you before the brightest grin breaks out on his face upon seeing Jaemin.

“You brought me to be the third wheel for dinner tonight; what a great best friend you are, Nana.” Turning to your side, you see Jaemin waving at his boyfriend with a matching grin. You’re almost jealous at the fact that Jaemin had found love in such an amazing guy like Jeno and you constantly find yourself wishing for something just as great as their relationship.

“I could always introduce you to one of the guys on the team and invite them too if you want,” Jaemin nudges your side and you laugh at his suggestion. You debate on taking up that offer, knowing your meddling best friend would actually do that for you, before declining it. “Break the ice and your streak of being single.”

“Nah,” you say, “they’re all cute but I think the only one I would actually be interested in is the cap.”

Captain Mark Lee— your university’s golden boy. He’s the unbelievably endearing third year that’s dedicated to both his sport and his major. He can easily win your heart through the love songs he composes on his guitar and the sound of his sweet voice. If you meet him on the rink, however, you’ll find yourself going against a beast— his level of competitiveness is off the charts, and the concentrated glare his brown eyes give off is something no one wants to experience.

You’ve seen both sides of him, being in his major’s cohort and a close friend of the hockey team, and it somehow led you to crushing on Mark. But really, who wouldn’t?

“Ah, yes, the golden boy,” Jaemin hums. You hear shuffling coming from the steps behind you and you shrug it off as one of the other players heading in late. Probably Yangyang— that boy always loses track of time.

“Hmm, yeah,” you sigh, dropping your head to lean on Jaemin’s shoulder. “Mark could honestly slam me against a shield guard and I would say ‘thank you.’”

Before Jaemin could reply, you hear a yelp followed by the loudest thud come from the concrete steps. You and Jaemin turn to find Mark sprawled out on the staircase, his bag and hockey stick tumbling down to the player’s area.

Mark looks up at you with widened eyes from his spot on the steps like a deer caught in headlights. There’s a bright shade of red that spreads from his cheeks down to his neck and you’re sure you’re mirroring his embarrassing state. You can’t believe he actually heard you say that.

Jaemin and the other boys on the team snicker at the awkward situation and you just want to dig a hole into the ground and jump into it.

“Oh my god,” you squeak out. You’re gripping Jaemin’s sleeve, fingernails digging into his arm as he continues to cackle at your misery.

““Oh, um, um, I don’t think t-that’s a good idea, like, that hurts, like a lot,” Mark replies, flustered as a boy could ever be. He tugs on his earlobe before his hand rubs the back of his reddening neck.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Why is this happening? And why is he so cute?

“Yeah, right, of course,” you breathe out, biting your bottom lip before looking to Jaemin for help. He does nothing of the sort and continues to laugh at your misfortune. Some best friend he was.

“Nice to see you here today,” Mark says, his voice cracking at the end and he clutches his throat at the unexpected break. It sends your best friend and the players into another laughing fit and you glare at them for reeling in Mark’s embarrassment. The captain runs his fingers through his blond hair and gives you an awkward smile before gathering his belongings and making his way down to his team. You hear him muttering something to himself but it was too low for you to catch.

As soon as he makes it to the bench, his teammates slap him across the back and you see Ten ruffling his hair. A childish whine leaves his lips as they continue to tease him and you can’t help but smile at how close they seem.

Jeno whispers something to Mark, causing the captain to sneak another peek at you. You meet his eyes and you both look away with heated cheeks.

The teasing continues to go on as Mark laces up his skates and takes off his blade guards but it all halts when his facial expression changes into something more serious. His voice drops in pitch as he commands the team to start making their way to the ice and it sends butterflies flying about in your stomach.

Something inside you wishes he talked to you in that voice and suddenly, your imagination is running wild. Jaemin, noticing how quiet you are, shifts his gaze from his boyfriend to you and shakes his head at that hopeless grin that’s taken over your lips.

“You’ve seen how incredibly clumsy Mark is and you still want him to smash you against the shield guard?” your best friend questions.

You’re a bit out of it when you reply, “I mean I want him to smash something else but that works, too.” Jaemin is bubbling with laughter at what your words are hinting. You grin at him and he playfully shoves the side of your head.

You watch as Jaemin cups his hands around his mouth and you realize what he’s about to do a second too late. “Hey Cap!” he yells. Mark nods your way as he steps closer to the ice, letting Jaemin know that he’s listening. He slips his helmet on, making sure it’s nice and secure.

“She said she still wants to smash; you up for it or nah?” your best friend shouts loud enough for the whole rink to hear.

One moment Mark is stepping on the ice, the next he is slipping. He falls face flat on the cold surface and instead of checking on their beloved captain, the boys are laughing their asses off, using their sticks as support to hold up their shaking bodies. He groans in pain and you wince, two bad falls within ten minutes must hurt.

“Everything is cool, it’s cool,” Mark says to no one as he pushes himself off the ice. He looks up at you and you catch him nibbling on his lip through the wire cage.

“I mean, we would have to break the ice first but why not?” he manages to shout back before skating away to bark warm-up commands to the other players. His teammates ignore his calls, choosing to skate over to tease their captain. They playfully whack him with their sticks and Mark’s yelling at them to focus on their warm-up exercises.

Mark’s unexpectedly smooth words leave you in a bumbling mess, hands coming up to feel how fast your heart is racing against your chest. Your head is filled with Mark and only Mark.

“Wow,” Jaemin says with raised brows. He smirks at you, “Guess your wildest dreams of being smashed against the shield are so close to coming true.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Nana,” you say, fighting back a smile.

God, you love hockey.

#neowritingsnet #mark lee #mark scenarios #mark imagines #mark fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark x reader #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #let’s break the ice

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pesiko · 3 years

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YANGYANG ONESHOT RECS

M mature | ✿ personal favorite

Ice, Ice, Baby - hockey player Yangyang, college AU [18k]

Spending Eternity in a Japanese Convenience Store [15k]

Speedometer - racer Yangyang, college AU [14.1k]

Sleepless Cinderella: Yangyang - f1 racer Yangyang [12.9k]

August - loving him is your bad habit [10.5k]

If It is Written in the Stars - just meant it be [9.9k]

Deepest Desire, Greatest Fear - avoided at all costs [9k]

The Yuletide Boyfriend - your one wish this year M [9k]

Drive it Forward - the idiot who dribbles a basketball [8.5k]

Porcelain - a mysterious mansion w a mysterious man [7k]

Troublemaker - Yangyang likes to live recklessly [6.9k]

Stolen Liquor - fratboy badboy Yangyang, angst ouch [6.8k]

Falling for You (Literally) - vacation w your bestfriend [6.8k]

Wasted Nights - zombie apocalypse AU ✿ [5.5k]

Let Me Love You - in love w someone so infuriating M [3.8k]

Game On - when he’s gaming away his problems M [3.2k]

From the First Raindrop - cooking him a meal [2.9k]

My Princess - a prince and his royal advisor [2.4k]

Crash and Burn - friends with benefits, suggestive [2.1k]

Put a Ring on it - you always go on drives together [2.1k]

The Otherside - separated by a river [1.6k]

Dwale - when you stay up late doing school work [1.5k]

Trouble - Yangyang only gets into trouble bc of you [1.2k]

What You Do to Me - taking care of sick Yangyang [1.1k]

Selcouth - you and Yangyang get in a tricky situation [1.1k]

A Little Bit - best friends, Kun being a cockblock [1.1k]

Wait You Like Me Too? - “you guys are nasty” [1.1k]

Dazed - falling asleep on his shoulder, thanks Kun [1k]

LYY - “i bet you’ve never even kissed anyone before” [1k]

Painting Hearts - instead of painting he‘s writing [1k]

The One with the Halloween Party & The One with the Morning Classes

❥ YANGYANG NAVI

[main masterlist] [nct masterlist] updated 7-21-21

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heryoungho · 3 years

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so, the template of the hockey player!yangyang fic is completed, and now all i have to do is rewrite it and edit it :D i should have it published in the next week! if you want to be tagged, comment on this and ill make a tag list!

#yangyang #liu yangyang #yangyang x reader #yangyang x you #yangyang x y/n #yangyang fic #yangyang fluff #yangyang angst #hockey player yangyang #90s love au #90s love #nct fics #wayv fics #wayv yangyang #nct yangyang

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tenderlyrenjun · 3 years

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time out: the prequel

↦ summary: here it is, the beginning - not of your rivalry but of your fucking relationship (pun intended)

↦↦ includes: excessive use of commas, yelling (?), slight rich kid au, car sex/safe sex (!): dick sucking, fingering, little bit of a praise kink, and penetration; it’s kind of a soft fic, like tender

↦ hockey co-captain/architecture major!jeno x figure skater/bio major!reader

11,6k words (i am so sorry) | preview one, preview two | main part

if you are under 18 and you interact with this fic at all, I will block and report you

a/n: i think that this is going to be my last attempt at posting fics. if it doesn’t work out, if people don’t comment or don’t like this one, i really don’t know what else i can do except stop.

Hockey practice, tonight, ended on a pretty low note – for the entire team, yeah, but none more than their zealous co-captain, Lee Jeno, who left the locker rooms deaf to any worried remarks. ‘Are you okay?’ followed him pointlessly, because everyone already knew how he felt going into the rink.

If Jeno’s demeanor did not make it evident, Renjun, who accompanied Yangyang after a figure skating competition, gave a repeating throat slicing gesture, signaling not to test the guy’s patience. Captain Lee 2.0 (nicknamed per birth order) already had a rough week: physics exam Tuesday afternoon, a huge digital technology project due Wednesday morning, a series of advanced geometry proofs to study for next week’s pop quiz, etc. But he stayed up, regardless, chained to a desk in his apartment, ordering Postmates everyday because he had no time to cook, wanting solely to focus on understanding and creating new plays for the season, possibly more than his maths class (but his parents don’t see his grades, so it’s fine). It’s just … This is his first full season as captain (or co-captain as people will not let him forget), after having been asked by Mark during last school year’s bye week. And to commemorate the promotion, he really, really wants to break the team’s losing streak. It has been going on for a few years, since the last official playmaker joined the NHL in North America. You know, good for him, hope he’s happy and healthy, Jeno guessed, shrugging begrudgingly, but there has been no obvious starting point to rebuild the same success in the team’s current lineup. Playmakers do not just drop into existence! People work insanely hard for that position – which is what Jeno tries to do. Not that it is particularly working out at the moment.

The playmaker is fast, super-fast, like Quicksilver fast, but Sungchan, their tallest player, can lap him twice in less than a minute. The playmaker keeps his eye out for openings on the ice, usually scoring more assists than goals, but Mark, his other half and co-captain, when he is on the ice, not in line, stands and observes during the game before making any moves, which typically lead into assists anyways – Mark actually got an award in high school, twice, for most assists in the league, and this season looks like he may be on track for the same thing. The only thing Jeno has in common with any playmaker is the forward position, the most advantageous position to score, at least, more than defence or goalie. Although, Haechan pulled a Hextall during one of the initiation practices, and the memory will keep him in the goalie spot, assuming that he can recreate it in an actual game. But, despite all the reverence, each player still has areas to improve upon. Jeno does not want to be in a position where all the “good” players are benched, or where, God forbid, someone gets too injured and the entire team has to forfeit a win because Jeno did not invest time into every. single. member.

For this exact reason, Yangyang, their newest member, lacking any real prior skill (also a weak link at the moment), was assigned 6AM solo drill practices. Okay, well, not assigned per se – Mark told Jeno that he cannot do that, or film their practices, because he gets a bit … too obsessed. But once Jeno found out that Yangyang started going the extra mile, it felt like a loophole, and he started giving out more guidance, a.k.a. specific drills that he knows would help Yangyang not only get in a good practice but also improve his skill. Jeno can simply pray that someone will eventually become available to practice a one-on-one arch backchecking – he would do it, but he has an 8AM, and the drill would make him skip class. Hockey is important to him, just not as vital as his architecture degree (the main thing he is in college for … although, he cannot blame anyone if they assumed he planned on going pro). Jeno has enough self-control to recognize when not to play – doesn’t mean he likes it though. And unfortunately, Yangyang is not the only … hurdle this year. Haechan, who inherited his number (66) from a graduating senior last year and typically plays defence, has not fared as well as his namesake, or older brother, with the new plays lately. But, considering the irreplicable (but hopefully replicable) goalie shot, Jeno keeps Haechan, on the ice, opposite Winwin – both as goalies, a position that Haechan has not held since little league. And Sungchan, the team’s most recent high school graduate, and former varsity star player, like Mark (!) … Actually, don’t get Jeno started on Sungchan.

The maknae is friends, a dongsaeng to, his mortal enemy.

Alright, hardly a mortal enemy, but Jeno does not consider you one of the friendliest people. You are too argumentative against him, branding your name in a golden calligraphy at the forefront of his hippocampus, drawn like the Illuminated Manuscript. Literally anyone would debate that the two of you are symmetrical, but the last year or two has shown that two sides of the same coin describes your relationship way better – you both obsess over your individual sports (figure skating and ice hockey, respectively), but where Jeno dedicates himself to the rink, you hog it, or, at least, that is how he sees it. You see him exactly as he sees you – passion tainted by frustration, framed as hatred. And it’s not like people haven’t pointed it out the similarities; Jeno believes Renjun’s exact words were, ‘just fuck and get it over with’ (he doesn’t know if Renjun was serious or not). And if he is not mistaken, your coach encouraged you to ‘make nice’. You are the one who cannot get through the irritation, the screaming matches, the – the dry mouth and headaches an-and feeling flushed before, during, or after an argument. And him, too. You always leave, always leave him staring, jaw clenched tightly, eyebrows frozen deeply into his face.

In fact, to really further his perspective (that the problem is you), Jeno was nice, earlier in the day, before practice; he wanted to be nice, to you.

Jeno was heading into practice sooner than the others, as he usually does (Mark arrives early too, a couple minutes after Jeno, to set up the rink and go over practice goals), but this time Sungchan texted him, asking for a ride, delaying Jeno’s typical entrance). Their youngest member generally catches a ride from you, which Jeno absolutely abhors because it means that he has to see you, but Sungchan’s license is still on the way and he does not have a car at the moment (all ice teams use an off-campus rink, the one on Anam, and Jeno seems to schedule practice for the most inconvenient times, a.k.a. all the damn time). But, like, half a minute before Jeno got to Sungchan’s dorm – literally as he turned into the carpark – the giant Bambi dude texted that he had a friend emergency at a different dorm, not even a dorm! An apartment building. The SoHo Apartments, where you live.

How Sungchan got there, Jeno will never know, yet he still went. Jeno still went, despite knowing that there was a near 100% chance of running into you. He wanted to assume that Sungchan was simply being a fiercely loyal friend, hopefully to that one upperclassman in the med school, Jungwoo (Jeno only knows about him because Jaemin mentioned him in passing), but no! Sungchan sauntered out of the building, you on his arm wearing loose black pants and a number 27 jersey – probably one of Sungchan’s backups, which is technically against the rules (!). Players are not allowed to give out their jerseys … during game season. Off season is fine, but not during. It is the only rule Mark agreed to so quickly, solely because it is practical. They are all college students, and only have so much free time, especially with the way Jeno wants to get everyone in shape; therefore, laundry days are limited, meaning that their jerseys are limited.

So, Jeno totally protested! … Silently, of course – biting his lip, taking out his anger via extra tight grip on the steering wheel, just left of the horn, almost sounding the alarm. Like, fucking hell, if his day could get any worse, he thought.

Except, apparently, you got dumped, or stood up, or whatever – he was not particularly paying attention – before heading out to some rare house party around Anam. But, like, see; This is why Jeno cannot stand your personality (overbearing priss): you are still going to that party, braving face, even though something devastating happened. So fucking concerned with public appearances, and for what? People date the wrong person! It happens! Your ego cannot be that ginormous. And come to think of it, he has never even seen you alone. You are always with someone: your coach, another skater; Sungchan; some guy who you probably met on Tinder, etc. He has never even seen you standing awkwardly in line at the on-campus coffee place between classes, staring at your phone just to look busy – not that he does it … often. Sometimes he will carry a playbook or annotate his geometry notes while waiting.

Still, Jeno let it slide (not without an eyeroll thought); he let all of it slide, saying nothing, just to get to practice faster, and get you out of his backseat faster. He glanced at you in the rear-view mirror a couple of times, briefly, during the short trip, just to verify that you are, in fact, upset, or, at least, displaying some human emotion other than the contempt he has become accustomed to over the last two years. And you were, kinda sad. So, if his gazes started to soften, that was between him and God. Although, to really keep up his appearance, he made you walk to the party from the rink, claiming that it is literally a less-than-ten-minute walk and the sun had not even set yet, much to your disdain. Sungchan protested for you, obviously caught in the middle like a child of divorce, but you relented, knowing, along with Jeno, that you cannot really complain because he did give you a ride, when he was in a position to abandon you on the side of the road. You only took, maybe, three steps before Sungchan ran after you, claiming that practice did not start for another half hour at least, once again reversing the roles and leaving Jeno alone.

Honestly, Jeno thinks as he sits in his car, head pressed against the steering wheel, a once-again-empty carpark in front of him, he feels abandoned. Stupid Mark and ending the Cross Fire drills early. Just because “it’s a Saturday night” and “Everyone deserves a time to rest”. Hockey is the rest! That is his stress relief!

Ugh!

Jeno considers going back inside for some solo practices – he could even try the ones that he assigned Yangyang, just to make sure those drills are effective for any skill level, as a precaution, on the off-chance that someone else starts solo practicing as well (the team really needs them; it’s just hard because everyone had different majors and other commitments). But Jeno recently showered and changed into his favorite shirt – the sweater-like one with thick black stripes and white stripes, and skinny black and purple stripes across the white stripes. He paired it with some black joggers and silver accessories, a chain connecting a belt loop to his wallet. The outfit is cozy enough for him to fall asleep in, so he could, alternatively, head home for the evening. But his apartment acts like a revolving door for both him and his roommate, Jaemin, his earliest childhood friend from all the way back in elementary school (along with Haechan, but he lives on-campus still). Jaemin inconveniently joined a study group for the MEET (medicine major entrance exam) though, hence why there is no number 42 (Jaemin’s jersey number) on SNU’s current hockey lineup. He said something about the sport being too time consuming for his major, and he prefers to sleep, if he gets the chance. Unfortunately, Jeno needs his emotional support attachment doll right now – to either vent or to spot him at the gym, the one on-campus is open 24-hours, mostly for the Olympian athletes but they have a healthier sleep schedule, so they use it at normal functioning people hours (a.k.a. daytime). Jeno can only really lean on Jaemin right now, because Renjun (a friend from high school; the latest addition to their friend group) is utterly obsessed with some student in Kun’s class; Mark is eternally busy with a thousand other commitments; going to Sungchan seems like a sort of treason – to what? To whom? Against himself? Jeno cannot answer for certain. And so he bangs his head on the steering wheel center (thank God that he inadvertently had the foresight to not turn on the ignition yet, otherwise the carpark would basically hear one elongated, yet comical, alarm scream). Maybe he just needs to befriend more people, particularly people outside his team and (high school) graduating cohort. Well, he received the foresight to learn about the party on Anam, so he could make friends there, and being semi-popular, he might already know a person or two there (besides you, of course), allowing himself to ease into the setting more gracefully.

Jeno groans again, hitting his head successively on the horn a few times. Jaemin did tell him to go out more. But, Jeno reminds himself, slowly sitting up, tilting his head to the side, he is, technically, outside right now. He just … would not be as alone if he went to the party, a party. Then, he groans again, erecting his spine against the chair, hair thumping on the headrest. He doesn’t even know why he debates himself. People must be meeting up right now – literally anywhere other than a stupid house party! No one even throws house parties! And in a city that, essentially, never sleeps? In Seoul? Yeah, right. Plus, it is the weekend, party time!

Jeno digs through his pants until finding his phone. It feels colder than the ice rink, even the bright, 96%-charged screen cannot warm his hands, or the car. First, he opens Twitter, scrolling through his main account with random follows, but his DMs, mentions, and timeline suggest something else going on. Everyone is either coupled up, depressingly pining, or just staying in. It forces him to close the app without bothering to switch accounts (the other would tell the same story, only unfiltered), a deep sigh erupting from his diaphragm, through his nose. He tries Instagram next, tapping through stories, public and private, like rejections on Tinder – not that he has it. Jeno refuses to download the stupid app, no matter what Mark’s equally stupid intro psych class says (Mark isn’t even a psych major!). But all his friends seem to be eating out, doing karaoke, studying, etc., in small groups. Like, Jeno knows that house parties are usually saved for special occasions: moving into a new place, national holiday celebrations, Chuseok, etc., but it offers more control than, like, some random 1-hour coffee thing. And all the clubbing invites are such a turn off because it sounds so sweaty, and, again, he just took a shower. Ugh, all the people who come to mind are diving into Seoul’s night life. Annoying.

Jeno grumbles something incoherently and does not have the faintest idea what the sound could, should, or would have been. Practice was absolute hell on his voice, yelling over skates scratching new ice chips to the surface and carbon fiber sticks hitting steel posts. He rubs his neck between his thumb and index finger, rolling his head around his shoulders. Yanno, alcohol is in medicine, so, he thinks hesitantly, a bottle of soju will help. (no, it won’t).

Hongjoong’s entire party cheers for Jeno when he walks through the foyer, showing off a bottle of sansachun like the trophy he wants so bad, in one hand, above his head, and a 12-pack box of soju by his thigh in the other hand. Jeno inhales shakily, breath hitching at his thin smile, ego slightly boosted but … disappointing. And after the applause dies down, he tries to find comfort in something familiar, looking for anyone recognizable. But everyone turned around just as quickly as they looked up. Well, everyone except you. Your outfit is different from earlier – a new, black skirt, a short skirt, not covering your legs; a tight, quarter-sleeved crop top; and a pair of maroon Converse, making him realize how much you rely on ice skates to elevate you (and your narcissism). He only spotted you first, in the crowd, because you were part of the scarce few facing him and you rolled your eyes to Yeeun beside you, most likely about him, muttering snidely (as expected of a shrew), but he could not discern it, as you said it into your red solo cup. And since Yeeun is a friend to the both of you, Jeno takes a step to defend himself, his socks slipping on the glazed wooden floor.

Juyeon, a basketball player and fellow winter sports mate, thankfully catches Jeno by the arm.

“Hey, man,” Juyeon waves, slowly releasing. He moves two hands between them, gesturing to take the alcohol into the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Jeno comments, voice low and strained, “again.” He rubs his Adam’s apple into his larynx, for some relief on his vocal cords. The motion generates a yawn, which does release some tension, just not enough, so he gives it one more go, then points at a near by table with bright neon colors. “What is all that for?”

Juyeon glances over his shoulder. Hongjoong, ever the art major, displayed pretty glowsticks, uncracked right now, alongside jelly bracelets and gel pens under a crumpled piece of construction paper too far away for either blind boy to read without their glasses. “Uhh,” he hesitates, then snaps his fingers loudly, a few people (you included) looking around for the source of the sound. You accidentally make eye contact with Jeno and glare at him, to which he rolls his eyes at. He almost returns to Juyeon when he catches sight of the blue bracelet peeking out of your sleeve. “Those,” Juyeon interrupts, “are for some game.” He lifts his wrist up, shifting all the bottles on his waist, to show off his own red bracelet. “You pick a color, and if someone steals it, you gotta do that action. Like, if Gahyeon stole mine, I’d have to give her a kiss.”

“On the lips?” Jeno asks for clarification. The rules seem vague.

Juyeon pauses and tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes a bit. “No, I don’t think so. The party is based on consent.” Then he shakes his head. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to kissing her, but if I didn’t want to, I guess I’d just kiss her cheek or hand or do a body shot off her stomach again.”

“Again?” Jeno raises an eyebrow.

Juyeon playfully shoves him at the chest, shuffling the bottles as they lose balance on his hip. He almost loses them to the floor, so he moves them into the kitchen while Jeno is still giggling. Then, after Juyeon leaves a lonely hockey player, Jeno walks around to the table with all the stuff on it and reads the note that neither Juyeon nor he could see from six feet away, without their glasses:

Entrance fee: write your name on a slip and place it in a jar! Two names will be called every hour for 7 Minutes in Heaven. The only rule (besides be a decent human being) is don’t fuck in my closet. Thanks.

He scribbles his name in a tiny font, hoping that if he writes illegibly, then Hongjoong would not be able to read it out loud in front of everyone. There are also about a hundred names, give or take a few, so realistically, he has, like, no chance of actually being called, hence why he is more inclined to drop his name in the jar than, say, the Swear Jar that Haechan installed at practice. Still though, he flicks it in before reading the list of acts associated with each jelly bracelet color:

Pick up one jelly bracelet to play!

Red – a kiss

Pink – flashing (a body part)

Yellow – a hug

Green – oral

Blue – spanking

Purple – a hickey

Black – sex

Rules:

Steal someone’s bracelet to “get” their prize.

If you don’t want to give them your prize, then stand on a table and make out with your hand for 30 seconds, make sure the people are watching.

You gotta be clean to play. All rule breakers will be immediately blacklisted from any future activities.

Jeno thumbs at a black jelly braclet, pondering that last sentence.

During second semester freshman year, there was a chlamydia outbreak in one of the dorms. Basically the entire floor got it. So, like, totally fair statement. Especially since Jaemin caught, too, and was majorly pissed about the antibiotics – doxycycline, which he ended up forgetting to take a dose of, twice, and gave him a raging headache right before a stats exam. Probably another reason why Jaemin is taking a break from the dating scene (in addition to the biochem incident). Jeno remembers that he almost mistook one of the pills for mint gum until Jaemin quite literally smacked it out of his hand, then ate it off the floor (five second rule). And maybe he has a thing for spanking because he chooses a blue bracelet as well.

Slowly, Jeno starts adjusting to the party, his fingers no longer twitching at his phone. He puts his hands above his hips, thinking back to what he was going to do before Juyeon explained the party’s general rules. It looks like other people are just talking, scrolling through Tinder, mixing drinks – being casual. Rooms overflow with people leaning on doorframes, trying to relax vertically since all the horizontal places are taken – the couches, the floor pillows, the bedrooms (probably). Jeno scans his eyes further into the living, searching for someone familiar, then he spots you and Yeeun. Well, you first. He noticed that he always does this: sees you before you see him, and it turns into this whole thing.

You roll your eyes after catching him in the act and put a hand on Yeeun’s arm, loudly whispering as Jeno walks over, “I’m going to talk to Noze. The company around her might be more …” you trail off, intentionally looking Jeno up and down while Yeeun stares at you expectantly, oblivious to his presence. “Tolerable. Bye.”

Yeeun waves you goodbye as well, frowning, lines creasing between her eyebrows, until she spots the your object of … affection. “Oh, hey,” she greets him, a quick kiss on the cheek like a cool aunt, as he leans down to meet her. “I didn’t expect to see you here. How’d you even hear about the party?”

Jeno raises an eyebrow, gesturing to half the room. The population so clearly indicates that the party is not so exclusive. “It looks like half the engineering building heard about the party.” He also nods his head at the revolving door leading into the kitchen. But he knows what she means. Jeno is not the type to go out, much less the type to go to parties. He really only attends post-hockey celebrations or the rare team icebreakers that Mark plans; you know, stuff involving the other players. Jaemin occasionally invites him to a bottoms-up with his lab classmates, but Jeno never says yes to that. He doesn’t like the crowds or not knowing everyone. “There’s like a thousand people here.”

“Ha!” Yeeun laughs at his hyperbole, passing her poktanju to him. “No, it’s gotta be 40 to 50 at most, and you can thank Hongjoong’s roommate for that.” Jeno nods, agreeing, sounds like Seonghwa. “No, but!” Yeeun slaps Jeno’s arm.

“Ow!” Jeno steps back, rubbing his bicep. “You didn’t steal my bracelet; you can’t hit me.”

Yeeun rolls her eyes – he is getting that response a lot tonight. First, you in his own fucking car; then Haechan at practice; then Juyeon; and now his best noona (don’t tell his actual sister)? Wow.

“No, not that,” she says, staring him down, knitting her eyebrows at him, wiping her hand on her pants now, mock disgusted. “And gross by the way. You’re like my little brother.” She takes her drink back and downs another shot. “No, I meant that I thought you had practice tonight. You still haven’t told me what the hell you’re doing here.”

“I heard about it,” Jeno reinforces.

“You said that. Who’d you hear it from?”

“In passing,” Jeno shrugs. But Yeeun smacks him again, and harder, splashing her beer a bit on his sleeve. “Okay, okay. I heard it from Sungchan. Alright, damn.”

“The tall kid?”

“Eung,” Jeno confirms, voice low, distracted while he wipes his wrist drier. “Yeah, the new kid, number 27 on the hockey team.”

“Oh,” Yeeun says slowly, eyes wide, sipping her drink deeply. “But he’s not,” she hesitates, stuttering, “your dongsaeng, right?” They come to the same conclusion – that he shares yet another person with the one he hates most.

“No,” Jeno answers, “but he – Sungchan – is on my team,” he reinforces. And suddenly, he needs that medicinal shot of alcohol to treat his recurring symptoms in the form of a headache now. “So, I heard it from him. Whatever.” He looks above Yeeun’s head, which is not hard to do with the, like, 15-centimeter difference. “Where did Juyeon put the alcohol?”

Yeeun absentmindedly points to the left, her own drink in hand. “I think Hongjoong told him to put it on the island in the kitchen. You’ll see it when you get in there.” Jeno watches her wave at a girl with black hair, already knowing that she is about to leave him, but hey, this time, he has something to do: get alcohol. “Go –“ She pushes him toward the drinks. “– find yourself something to drink. I’ll meet up with you again later.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he waves her off, then hugs her and walks off.

Halfway before he even gets to the door, Jeno bumps his shoulder into yours, and yet another drink spills onto his favorite shirt.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” both of you whisper at each other, the anger radiating far enough to briefly turn some heads.

“Let me pass, Lee,” you bite, suddenly closed off in the narrow hallway; people standing against the opposite wall just talking to each other or behind you, waiting for the bathroom or another drink, or the next best thing.

You have the same look in your eyes as when Jeno first met you. It took a few more meetings, after that one, until he was able to name it: contempt, maybe even irritation, or disrespect. However, unlike now, he was unable to discern why he had been so deserving of your precious scorn; all he did was show up to practice! This time though, Jeno concedes that it was partially his fault. He was weaving between couples and trios, trying not to hit anyone on his way to alcohol; he barely had any in his system, to be so wobbly on his feet, like a drunkard, but he walked too close to the drywall and bounced off it, in an attempt to avoid two people making out, then he hit you right in the shoulder, your arm carrying a shot glass filled to the brim (you would get dinged in a chem lab, Jeno thinks, not that he has taken chemistry recently; he mostly listens to all the ways Jaemin kept failing the lab safety quiz). You spilled peach soju on his wrist and the edge of his shirt, forcing him to lift it enough to show off his sharp v-line, his transversus abdominis, that gets cut off by his pants tied above his waist, rather than at his waist – a tease, honestly.

Jeno’s arm jerks backward, responsively, to force some space away from everyone, mostly you, but your watch snagged on the fabric, pinching the draw string tightened around his hips, wrapping you closer the more that Jeno tries to detangle himself. He takes a step to the wall, shoulders alert, feeling for the rough material until he falls against it. Your waist slumps against his as he drags you with him, and you grumble, ugh, holding out a second while people pass behind you, pushing past you away from the kitchen. Jeno presses your hips down, your feet coming to the ground, his hands resting more on your butt than your lower back, almost like a trap. The hallway is too narrow for this many people, Jeno thinks, wishing that Hongjoong had the sense to either limit how many students could attend or limit Seonghwa’s invites. Although, he probably would not have been able to attend had any of those two events occurred. And his hands tighten with the thought, locking you between his arms. He can feel you stare at him, blocking out the crowd that he watches equally intently.

Once the hallway is empty (or, at least, emptier), you put a hand on Jeno’s pelvis, where your wrist is stuck, and another on his chest, then pump your arm to break free. It fails, the first time, so you use the momentum to crash on his body again and push yourself off. The loud sound creates an asymptotic barrier. On one side, you sigh a heavy relief, touching your bare wrist. On the other, Jeno pats himself down, touching his front muscles down to his belt, where your hands previously were. He almost mirrored your sigh, but then, he found a silicone bracelet, broken, in his shirt folds. It was easy to find, the red color contrasting against his stripes. He is surprised to find it at all, honestly, thumbing it against his long fingers. You did not push him that hard, certainly not enough to give him, of all people, your bracelet. And it looks like he mistook your color, too; this one, even in the poorly illuminated hallway, is red, a kiss. Would you even give him that so easily?

Jeno looks up at you, from his hands, dangling the thin material delicately, and half-smirks, hoping that he won’t falter. “Looks like you owe me something.”

You roll your eyes. One more time, Jeno thinks, and your face will get stuck like that; you might even go blind. “Kiss my ass.”

“And here I thought you wanted to leave,” Jeno retorts. You suck in a breath, thinning your lips, releasing all the tension through your toes, tapping your heel-less shoes into the ground. He exhales oppositely, exaggeratingly, tone sharp. “You had the privilege of feeling my hands on your body for the last minute, and you still want more?” He whistles lowly and says, “Damn,” appreciatively.

“Just give me back my bracelet, ass.”

“And,” Jeno ignores your interjection, “if anyone knows about privilege, it’s you.”

“Ha-ha,” you assert blatantly, fists and arms tense at your sides, coming lower than your skirt. “At least I’m not a Daechi-dong, dong head,” you spit back. And he crinkles his nose at your attempt to call him a dick. “You’re the one who is barely captain because of nepotism. Or did you make everyone forget with your military drills?”

“Oh really?” Jeno nods his heads sarcastically. “Imagine being a top skater,” he taunts back, “because your coach gets paid to elevate you!”

“At least I am a top skater,” you seethe, purposefully quieting your voice as people start looking away. Your hiss comes out as if telling him to shut up, which he, obviously, takes offence to.

“I would never have guessed,” Jeno scoffs, continuing with a powerful voice. “Sounds like a lie. God knows you’ve never even been on the fucking ice.”

“Because you steal it every fucking day!” You point a finger at him. “What’s it like to constantly work toward playmaker and fail every time?”

“Funny, coming from someone who recently got demoted.”

You slap him.

Jeno stares at you incredulously, jaw clenched. His mouth feels sticky, dry, tongue weighing heavy and raw, and his throat feels hoarse all over again, more agitated now as his neck heats up, just from looking at you. And his voice had already been sore from practice, barely letting out few phrases to his friends. But with you, he becomes compelled to say everything. He opens his mouth to verbally strike back.

“Jeno!”

Hongjoong’s voice rings loud and clear at the end of the hallway. Everyone rotates toward the announcement. At the sight of the host squinting to better read the tiny handwriting, Jeno suddenly remembers the game he entered: 7 Minutes in Heaven. His body stiffens, straightening against the wall, stomach sucking in to pull further from you, though your hand comes to his forearm, dizzily, your body having been alarmed by the declaration.

Then, Hongjoong calls your name, too.

“Fuck,” you and Jeno whisper.

Hongjoong pushes Jeno into the closet first, followed by Chaeyoung pushing you, into Jeno’s arms. As soon as the door closes, you shove him against the opposite wall and tug the pull chain light switch on. Jeno blinks at the yellow glow, rubbing his eyes as a result of the brightness change. He looks around first, completely neglecting you so that the time goes faster. None of the clothes, he notices, belong to any party goer, because they are neatly hung, organized from red to indigo, beige fabrics on the end; who ever shed their jacket did so in Hongjoong’s equally tidy bedroom. Aside from the jackets, there is really nothing else, maybe a few boxes underneath an empty shelf, but naught to distract him from how hot the inside of this closet is.

Jeno looks you up and down again, eyes glossing over the outfit he already inspected so he stays on your face. You spun the moment you fell inside, looking away from him, jawline prominent as your lips tightened, frowning. “Nothing to say without an audience?” he asks bitterly, then laughs dryly.

“What more is there to say?” you comeback, quietly, defeated. He wonders if you mean it rhetorically, because … “You got the last word.” He meets your eye, leaning further on his right side. “This time.”

Jeno stands on his two feet, challenging you to a staring competition now, straight on. It is hard not to see every emotion written on your face; the lighting is not on your side. Something in your voice, too, has him on edge, like you have more to say. He opens his mouth to speak again, but you beat him to it, inhaling sharply and talking slowly:

“And you’re the one who likes the attention.”

“Yeah?” he scoffs. Ridiculous. “You were a soloist, –” He collaborates, to this day. “– and now you’re malicious to anyone and everyone, just because you have to work on a team.”

“Why do you think that happened in the first place?! I’m not the one who hogged the rink so much that none of the other skating teams could practice!” You put your hand on your mouth, trying to physically calm yourself down. The next words out of your mouth come in a whisper, “I’m not the one who started shouting during a party. Couldn’t keep the hatred in, even for a second?”

Jeno takes a step toward you, an instinctive comforting move that he would do for his friends without a thought. The closet seemed so much smaller on the outside and so cold where he stands. How are you still six feet away? Does anger heat up your side? Would anything change if he treads nearer? Jeno tests the waters, adding another step toward you – one foot down, four to go. And you take note of him; he is being too obvious, but you say nothing. Jeno cannot read you very well while you are far away, so when he finally reaches you, when he leans over you, all intimidation vacant from his eyes, you narrow your gaze, less like a glare, he thinks, more … curious, scrutinizing. Anyone outside might have thought that you offended him, or, maybe even, vice versa, especially as he presses you against the wall, your head slowly knocking into the wall. His hand comes to your waist again, and you stutter a breath, making him falter as well, his hand slipping on your ass.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeno asks, though he breathes heatedly, quietly.

Your eyes stumble to his nose, and next his lips, taking in the downward bent – his gaze has never left your eyes though, permanently glued to how you perceive, anticipating your answer, because, after all, he did possess your red bracelet.

“For a,” you start, then gradually speed up, “Daechi-dong, you sure are slow.” You bring him in for a kiss, swiping his pink bottom lip to undermine his stature. His jaw drops open and his knees weaken, allowing you to push him against the wall, pressing your tongue on the center of his, saliva tasting void of alcohol. You put an arm on the wall, caging him into the closet, like an anime love interest. “This changes nothing, by the way,” you inform him, as he cradles your hips. “I’m still me, even if I’m kissing you.”

“Obviously.” Jeno rolls his eyes. He rolls your head against the wall, knotting the crown of your hair in the process, reversing your positions. Your eye lids wilt as he leans in, tilting his head to the side for deeper access, and your fists loosen, sneaking around his belt loops, bringing his body closer. The atmosphere brings an alcoholic blush across his nose, definitely not the way you turn his hips, as if trying to guide his head, lips, and tongue. He retreats just a little bit, ultimately coming back after he finds another unexplored part in your mouth. Everything is all mouth – you never smack your lips on his; he never closes his lips over yours; there is no pecking. Jeno senses the corners of your mouth, stopping his body from moving while you tongue circles on his tip. You pull back after a few swirls, starting to drool – Jeno can feel it, so he nibbles on your bottom lip, gnawing the top half lightly, getting rougher and rougher the more you enable him. Until he stops. “I’m still pissed off though,” he lets you know, reverting to your conversation.

“Obviously,” you repeat, equally mad.

The pressure builds up in Jeno’s cheekbones the more time passes without your face attached to his, and he takes the moment to soften at your features, asking them why you are so heated at the sight of him. When he finds no answer, he implores your mouth, pecking pillowy lips on yours, jerking your head like a joystick. His lips drag you to the tips of your toes, bringing your pelvis against his; his long fingers outline the sides of your face, sketching around your ears; his thumb drags along your cheek to your jawline, tilting your face as he opens his mouth, preparing to suction on your mouth.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jeno feels your torso tense and your hands come to his pectoral muscles again. You push him away and pull your limbs back to your body, shutting down with a low strike on the wall. It definitely sounds like you slapped him again.

“If you two are hate fucking in my closet, I’m kicking you out,” Hongjoong says from behind the door.

“As if,” Jeno croaks, voice still low and hoarse because he has not drunk water in the two hours since practice ended. He dives through the crowd, emerging first.

All eyes are on him, and he knows that they think you two sat in silence, simmering angrily. He likely looks angry too, face warm and red, the vein in his neck throbbing, chin jutted out as he looks for someone else, a real friend. They might think you offended him with the way you just stand in the closet (he didn’t hear you walk away), yet no one says anything. He can only imagine what they think – your baby hairs float off your face; your lips caught in your mouth, trying to hide the bruising; eyes darting from him to them to your hands. Jeno shakes his head. He has to get out of here.

But you chase him – everyone thinking that it is to apologize.

You catch Jeno outside, in front of his deep red car, and tug on his arm.

“Why are you leaving?”

Jeno shrugs you off and opens the car door, leaning between it and the rest of the car, standing tall. It barricades you from him. “Because I know how you are.” You tilt your head to the side. He wonders if you know how easy to read your face is. “You are so caught up in appearances. Why would I ruin that over some stupid game?”

You nod slowly, absorbing his explanation, eyes darting around his silhouette, trying to focus on everything behind him. He even glances back but sees nothing, just rows of cars lining up the sidewalk. Not a single person leaving the party right now either, probably because house parties are so rare; movies and books make them seem like common occurrences, so people want to cling to them before they go away. But Jeno is not always right. And another group of people exit the party, walking down hill to their car, laughing loudly enough to alert you two. You shove Jeno in the driver’s seat, hovering above him as he adjusts to the leather chair.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” he asks, rubbing behind his neck.

You yank the lever that forces the seat toward the back and sit on your knees, between his legs, looking at him through your eyelashes. “There were people outside,” you say as if it were obvious, lifting your hands into the air then smacking them back on your bare thighs.

“You –“ Jeno begins incredulously, tightly. “You cannot be serious.”

“You’re the one who said that I care so much about appearances! So what if it’s true?”

The lights turn off in his car, and instantaneously, the atmosphere reminisces Hongjoong’s closet. Jeno searches for your face, relying on a streetlight to see, not wanting to feel around for you. He puts a hand over the door, searching for the handle, but he catches his pretty wrist in the moonlight, sans blue bracelet. Jeno brings his arm between you two, closer to his chest though, inspecting the nakedness. Where the hell did his bracelet go? Surely, if someone stole it at the party, he would’ve heard something. Everyone is practically preening for the chance to steal a bracelet. He pats his chest down again, hoping that he could find it the same way that he found yours – in the folds of his shirt. But you, who gathered where his thoughts were, felt along the ground and found it by his foot. Jeno stares at how you hold it up curiously.

“What?” he exclaims sarcastically. “Are you going to slap me again?”

You laugh dryly but your voice trails distantly. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

“As expected.” Jeno rolls his eyes, ultimately returning to your face, just to see the nosy expression take over again. “You don’t really know anything about me.”

“Bullshit,” you counter, rising on your knees. You loose balance easily, trying not to step on his toes, literally, and he catches you, again, by the hands this time, putting them on his thighs. He swears that a thankful smile cracks your façade, but it disappears in the same second. Your hands are the only reminders that you are arguing with him, pushing hard and hot into his muscles, like a terrible massage. He cracks for a second, whimpering in pain, and you alleviate it a little bit, only ghosting your touch on his pants, no longer leaning. “I know so fucking much about you, Lee.”

“Oh yeah?” he taunts. “What’s my first name?”

You crawl over him, placing a hand on the chair, under his thigh, moving the other behind his shoulder to hover on of him. He watches you, only able to move his chin with you, lips following yours. You lean down to his ear, hiding your face, making him doubt, a little bit, that you are the real person whispering, “Jeno”. He creeps his hands on the edge of your skirt, yanking it lightly as a signal to bring you forward, which you do, staring deeply in his eyes. “I know that you started hockey after all your friends, so now you stay later than them on the rink.” You trail your lower hand up his thigh, under his top sweatshirt, haunting around his defined muscles. “I know that you did your freshman honors thesis on hockey pucks and friction.” Jeno grabs your waist harder at the innuendo, accidentally pulling you into straddling his leg, and you yelp, falling into his chest. You straighten up quickly, trying to find a position comfortable enough to look at him, to tease him. In the midst of it all, you confess, “I know that you are more than hockey, and you’re infuriatingly good at other things, like –“

Jeno swallows a groan.

“– math and drawing.” You smirk. “Did I say something to make you mad?” you ask, faux-innocently. “Did you know I could do that?” You lean into his ear, twirling a strand of hair behind his ear. “Do you even know anything about me?” Jeno nods; of course, he does – no one spends all the energy he has on this … this rivalry, to come out with nothing. You lean away, slowly, dropping back on your knees, on the floor, and rub the inside of his manspread thighs. “Can you tell me one thing? I gave you three.”

“I know that –“ Jeno swallows, not sure if he wants to tell about an intimate moment he once witnessed, but you look at him with expectant eyes crinkling with innocence, even if that innocence might be hidden behind sensuality. “– during competition season, in the quietest moments between performances, you disobey your expensive coach’s direct orders –“ He throws the nepotism back in your face, alleviating the familiarity that neither of you should be sharing. “– and sit in an empty rink, eating a strawberry McFlurry.” The silence after is deafening, bringing back that ringing sound he heard after practice in place of his teammates, so he adds, “I don’t know what you think about,” but he can guess. It is probably the same thing that he thinks about before games – less about the plays, about the potential for losing, more about being on the ice, how fun everything is, despite the misery that comes from losing.

Jeno locks eyes with you, wondering if he finally found a common ground. Your hands, and eyes, responsively drop to his ankles, fiddling the hems. He starts to consider … that he went too far … again, and he exhales, collapsing further into the cold leather chair, scooting away from you. It’s not like he has Jaemin’s boy-next-door-charm, or Renjun’s suavity; and he is certainly not as approachable as Yangyang. He can never get it just right, find that perfect balance. You always fly off the handle with him, and he has the hardest time even talking to you. Nothing he says is ever the correct thing.

“Can I kiss you?”

Oh. Maybe being vulnerable was a good thing, though his body is still humming as if angry.

“Ye-yeah,” Jeno answers, after a second, his voice rasping moreover. He goes to you, angling his whole chest, but you stop him, a hand just to the right of his heart, almost like missing the point completely, which he does, in this case, tilting his head to the side, a frown settling in.

“Not on the lips.”

Jeno examines your face, searching, first, for malice, last for answers. You have a tint of rivalry glowing across your cheeks, obscured by mischief.

“Hold this.” You hand him the edge of his shirt, and he accepts, wordlessly, bunching it high enough to show off all his abs – a smart choice, given the way you pause to admire each defined muscle band.

Jeno twists his wrist, during the quiet, readjusting the material, but as he does, it rubs on his hardening nipples – which are not the only thing hardening. You travel your hand up his chest, starting from the top half of his v-line, ending under his nipples, under his shirt. His knee spasms, motioning for you to start whatever you were going to do, hoping that you might put your mouth south. But you take your opposite hand and cradle his face, making him look up at you, his eyes seeming wider – innocent, less resentful than you are known to see, no taunts or mean names on his tongue. Although, another breathless statement about God might hang in there. You scratch your nails along his cheek, simultaneously leaning down on the other side of his face, to his ear.

“Not right there,” you instruct, then move the frayed end into his mouth, the rest of the shirt gathering under his pecs like a bra. You trail down his neck to his hand, where he holds his two shirts, then unwind his tight grip. He lets the material unravel, mouth parting smally with it too, just like you want. You draw his bottom lip open and hang the shirt on his teeth. He nods consensually biting into the material, expecting you to actually tease his muscles this time, but you only guide his mouth to a close.

Then your icy fingers curl under his belt line, and he whines.

“Why – hnng,” Jeno starts, finishing with a tremble, silenced.

That is when he understands: you want to gag him. Not completely, to the point where he is void of response, but enough to prevent him from saying anything completely; though, he could reject you right now, at any point, if he didn’t want your touch. Jeno stares at you, on your knees, fingers paused from sliding his pants all the way off. Neither of you have ever made this much eye contact, and he … he just wants to keep watching you. Have you always been this passionate?

“Keep that there for me, okay?” you ask, implicitly talking about consent over the boundary you are about to cross.

Jeno nods smally, not wanting to drop his shirt or wet it so disgustingly.

You tease a finger through his underwear, where his cock would normally peek from, using the space to prod him out the waistband. He nudges you, needily, trapping your palm between the tops of his thighs, all the muscles there pulsing faster than his currently erratic heart. You give him an impatient look, wagging your head, tsk, tsk. It makes him curl his chin to his chest, sheepish, like he did something wrong, and he shakes his hair, too, curtaining his blushed face behind his long, black bangs. Jeno feels you gently pull him out of his headspace, figuratively and literally. You strip his bottoms all the way to his ankles, careful not to touch his dick, even though he wants you to, so badly. When you straighten your back up, brushing your tits on his knees, resting them perkily above him, you stare at his dick, just for a moment, head tilted to the side. He almost ruins it, tongue poking his clothes away to ask if you want to stop, but you kiss the underside of his penis head – only once, waiting for his reaction, and he gives it to you, of course. The weightless smack from your lips tickles, and he wonders if you actually did it. Then you do it again, and again, and again. Kisses turn into flicks, all on the underside, building up more saliva as you curl the dorsal side, flicking it easily.

Hnng. You are a figure skater, Jeno remembers. Being graceful is in the definition. It is why your insults always have such a clean cut and give him an opening to respond. He usually gets the last word. But this is a different kind of graceful, where you are gentle with him – asking for consent, touching him delicately, making sure that he is okay every step of the way.

When you are ready, you slowly creep your lips over his cock head and retreat, backing off along with the heat from your mouth. Jeno can feel his dick follow you in anticipating, trembling the longer you study him, and he moans brokenly: please. It comes out incoherent and muffled. You relax your jaw lowly, letting your tongue slide outside your lips to cover your bottom row of teeth as you swallow a portion of the top. His cock bounces in your mouth, slapping around your small mouth. He clenches his fist by his thighs, not knowing where to put them. You circle your index finger and thumb halfway down his shaft, jacking him off along one of the veins that come above his balls. He wonders if you want him to give you a facial, especially after you come up, rubbing it long your innocent looking cheek, but a hand comes above his balls, stopping him from cumming. And he groans, throwing his head back again. Maybe you’ll suck the cum out of him, like a well-blended smoothie through a straw.

Jeno drops his shirt out of his mouth, covering his abs once again. The groan reverses onto your throat – he guesses that you don’t like the cover. You muffle the whine with his dick in your mouth again, the sound constricting all the way around him. Jeno grabs a hold of your throat, nicely, feeling how your esophagus adjusts for him.

“Oh, God, oh fuck,” he whispers, abs tightening shakily. He gains some control after you begin a steady bobbing, using your salvatory ducts to prevent from gagging. You curve your tongue at the back of your throat, feeding his dick against it. The feel is no different from deep throating, if Jeno is being honest, but your tongue is much more pillowy and your cheeks suck in air, pulling them tightly over your teeth, giving him a vacuum suction that reminisces a really good fleshlight and would need a lot of practice to get as right as you do. “Is that what those practices are?” he asks you. “A chance to practice for my dick?”

Jeno cups your cheek and pulls his dick out of your throat, like giving you a chance to answer. But before you can, he taps his cock on your tongue again, just the tip, rasping the underside of his head on your reflexively curled tongue, which appears half-prepared to answer his question, half-prepared to get throat fucked.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he drags out. His hand comes into your hair, scratching along your temple to tuck those pretty little strands behind your ears; his thumbs briefly emerge through the top, then hide, again, in the tangled ponytail. You perform faster, ruining his illusion of control, and he clutches your hair tighter, holding you in place to stop from cumming. He pants through his nose, and you give him a short rest until bringing both your hands along his exposed cock, twisting them in opposite directions while your tongue remains steady under his twitching tip. “Ah,” he pleads, trying not to come. He sits up fully, knees almost going with him, had it not been for your strong chest, and you pull off, panting equally hard. And, fuck, your tits are sexy.

You stand up as much as you can in the cramped space, spine rubbing up the headlining as you put one foot forward then straddle him with the other leg. Jeno helps you adjust, bringing your cushiony thighs closer into his chest, just right under his pecs. He looks up at you, and you stop fidgeting, putting your hands on his shoulders for balance, teetering on your knees until you finally fall into him, your hair covering the both of you. You crane your neck down blowing on his earlobe first, then inside his ear. He grabs you harder, supporting your ass as you hold his throat in place, marking the area between his clavicle and right ear.

“Do you have a condom?” you whisper, slowly bending down, tracing the outline of your underwear with his tip – repeating the gesture over and over again, several times, until he answers.

Jeno’s head bobs – nods, yes – on your shoulder, but you mistake it for pleasure, grabbing him by the chin again, so he looks into your eyes and swallows. “Yeah,” he verbalizes, “in the glove compartment.”

You pull away from his chest, and he instinctively stabilizes your waist, possibly obsessed with it. Jeno accidentally grabs you too roughly, he thinks, situating you over his really big tip. You brace yourself on the center console, moaning loudly. Your tits push into the leather so difficulty that they nearly pop out of your bra, which would not be too difficult. Jeno can see your strap falling down your upper arm. You shallowly bounce on him through your underwear. It feels so good, so wet, so disappointing because he wants to fill you up already. While he grinds his ass into the chair, flopping his cock over your clothed pussy, you reach over the passenger’s seat, which seems to be two metres away now, your arm reaching shakily. And finally, you pull out a condom, turning the golden wrapper around in the shallow light to find the front.

“A large?” you read, treating it like a question. You come back to him, sitting on his sculpted v-line, grinding your ass languidly into his cock standing tall behind you. “An extra large?” you squint at the foil, then raise a suspicious eyebrow.

Jeno pulls your thighs up to his chest and plucks the condom from your greedy little hands.

“You’ll need it,” he answers, tone implicitly asking you to trust him.

He tears the foil open and fingers around for the right side. It is difficult in the poorly illuminated street. So, he is thankful when you take over, repossessing the condom. You climb over his cock, sticking your ass out again, to get in a better position. Your hands are so pretty.

“Pinch the tip,” Jeno instructs breathily. “Yeah, fuck, like that.” He watches you catch his restless dick and fit the ring over his tip. You grab him hard, fingers not quite reaching all the way around. He isn’t sure if that is because his dick is so big or if your wrist is too loose. None of it matters, though, when you take both hands and roll the condom all the way down, not stopping until his voice is back to cracking, pushing out those ah, ah, ahs again. Jeno pulls you up again, forcing you to brace on his pecs. Both of you start stripping now. Jeno takes off your long-sleeve and tugs your tits out of your bra cups, leaving them supported by the push-up wire. He is tempted to suck them, staring at them, stunned; hands sculpting your sides, then jiggling your tits until your nipples harden more than his dick. You take your turn after he has his fun but before he mouths them. His shirts come off easier and you ignore his muscles, immediately rubbing your nipples over his. He wonders if you have ever been touched like this, touched here, but the thought is fleeting as you take off your panties, throwing the soaked material on his shirts. You situate on his thigh, muting any arguments that might arise, rubbing the newly naked skin together.

Jeno lets you grind on his thigh a few times, feeling the way your clit twists and turns. He flexes his muscles, all of them – his abs under your hands, his leg under your pussy, his arms under your body. Your grinds turn into bounces, so Jeno catches your ass, prying your legs open again, on either side of his hips. He pinches the inside of your thighs, fingers loosing their adhesion from all your self-lubrication, then pushes his index finger inside – his long, muscular finger with clean, polished nails. His thumb swipes back and forth on your clit, replacing his thigh to stimulate you. And you falter, shuddering, legs shaking a little bit next to his cock. You rest your head on his shoulder, giving him access to yours. He opens his mouth along your collarbone, suctioning the lightest hickeys then getting rid of them with forceful laps from his floppy wet tongue.

“You like that?” Jeno whispers as he pushes in two extra fingers. First, curls all three upward, cupping your clit with his palm, and you start grinding on it, waiting for more movement, but still needing to adjust to the drastic change in size. When you relax, sitting on his hand, Jeno flexes his hand back and forth, desperately manhandling your body to and from his. You stay still above him, arms tightening around his shoulders, muscles shaking; you try to respond yes, but he doesn’t hear it, trying a new tactic. “Does that feel good?” he asks. His fingers start moving in different directions, scissoring a whole new stretch. They scrape a new, high-pitched ah, aah, ah out your throat, the sound only elongating when his thumb stops swiping your clit to rub circles on it as trying to clamp his entire hand through your pussy. “Fuck, you sound so good. You’re doing so well.” Jeno grazes his teeth on your shoulder, tipping you over the edge, and you grip his dick harder, for some anchor on reality. Both of you moan, throwing your heads together, almost kissing. Your lips are so intimate with his, breathing hot air over his closed mouth. Jeno nudges you, brushing the tip of his nose on yours. “Are you ready?”

“Fuck,” you whisper, possibly wondering how the hell he can be so considerate. You lick a stripe on his cheek, at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not glass,” you reassure him, although sounding irritated. “You can’t be that big,” you answer, “Like, there is no way that I need to get prepped by so many fing –“

Jeno pulls out his fingers and slams his dick up your pussy in the same second. The both of you swear simultaneously, and your breath, specifically, becomes more winded, becomes faster, becomes shaky. Jeno didn’t consider that he might need to adjust, his cock throbbing as if trying to stretch your circumference even wider.

“You – You were saying?” he stutters, then throws his head back on the headrest.

You teeter on your knees, outside his thighs, slowly and shallowly bouncing on him. He pushes the tops of your thighs until you rest on the cold steering wheel, turning it as you gain more momentum to ride his dick. You lead with your hips, swaying forward and back into his pelvis.

“Now I know where the ego comes from,” you bite – and literallybite his neck.

“I deserve it,” he retorts, pressing his feet into the ground, then slamming his hips into you a few times. The new adjustment displays your tits so beautifully, chest raised and propping out, so he leans down, suctioning sucking your warm skin from shoulder to areola. Your back locks on the steering wheel, changing the angle at which his cock hits your G-spot, and you moan loudly. In response, Jeno puts his thumb in your mouth, squashing your tongue, saliva pooling so quickly that you immediately close around it. You slump forward, grabbing at his veiny arm, fumbling around until one hand clamps on his wrist and the other over a vein. “You’re too loud,” he whispers, until you swirl your hips in small figure eights. His hand relaxes and he groans, throatily – to which you cover.

“Who’s being loud now?” you taunt. “Guess I’m that good, huh?”

Jeno cannot disagree. You feel so good, and tight, and warm. His hand drops between your bodies, allowing you to come back up again, then back down, then back up, and down, and up, and down, and up. You massage at a vein behind his ear with two fingers and suck on one of his nipples, occasionally biting the edges of his areola then licking bite mark healed. When you reach a hand underneath his, toying between your clit and the parts of his cock that become exposed, he gathers that you are trying to make him cum first.

“Why are you still competing with me?” he bites angrily. Jeno takes away your fingers and plays with your clit himself, tugging it through the lubrication. He massages it with big circles, going around your pussy lips, the bundle of nerves at the top of your clit, spreading the wetness everywhere. “Fuck, I’m stuffing you so full, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” you agree without thought, all words choking in your exposed throat as he blows your back out. “’m suh ‘ucking ‘ull,” you whimper, though the syllables break into petty gasps that he can barely string together. “Ah,” you whine sharply, squeezing your eyes shut until they pulse at an opposite rate to your vaginal walls. Then, Jeno finds another angle, moving his ass against the cold console (he yelps at it, hips driving upward, away from the box, and his cock buries itself in your guts), and your eyes pop open, along with your jaw. Every new pound coaches a sob off your lips.

Jeno, still utterly obsessed with your waist, digs his thumbs into the front of your pelvis, his long fingers massaging your ass as you come forward to match his thrusts. You fall forward again, hands bracing on the shoulders of the chair behind him, tits right in his face. Jeno pants heavily, breath lost with each release, but he still chooses to kiss you.

Well, your tits. He mouths at the skin around your nipples, kneading his lips into the plushy flesh as his abs lock and your thighs tighten.

“Oh, oh, oooh,” Jeno cries, his hips stuttering as your pussy clenches get smaller, firmer.

“C’mon, c’mon,” you whisper, “c’mon. Right there, Lee.” He pushes particularly hard, as if breaching another barrier. “Ah, Jeno.”

His name brings him back to attention, staring at the tension in your face. You stutter your hips, and he tries to still his, letting you build up to an orgasm. You manhandle his cock, jerking it around inside your body. Your glossy muscles start constricting tighter and tighter, no longer throbbing, as if your pussy tries to drink his entire cock. Jeno belts an arm above your ass and clamps a hand on your waist, getting you in a stationary position. He settles his feet firm, stable, into the ground, preparing himself this time, this last time, then he palpitates into you, his hips grinding into your clit a few seconds after every thrust to really get deep. You claw on his muscular shoulder, fingers digging hard, all the tension going straight to the ends of your body and up your pussy with his cock. He feels you sucking him in and holds his thick dick there, swirling it all around – one, two, three.

“Fuck,” you whine, high pitched, croaking tiredly. Your walls scrape and then beat out a samba all over his cock, throbbing with your orgasm.

Jeno returns half a second later when his tip catches on a particular tug and he empties into the condom, possibly elongating his member. You whimper weakly at the stimulation, but hold him securely, preventing him from pulling out just yet. He lets you lay on him, like that, for minutes, maybe hours, arms circling his neck. Jeno thinks, wow, thisfeels nice – better than hugs from his friends and surprisingly, even better than those team huddles after a good practice.

But his arms are stuck, frozen at his sides while fatigue takes you over. Jeno gives it another second, then his fingers twitch, suddenly gaining the momentum, again, to return your embrace. You, on the other hand, have different thoughts, and pull away, patting him on the chest, relieving yourself of him.

Jeno thinks that the worst kind of time travel is this one, where you two are on opposite schedules. He just needs a break from it.

A time out.

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