#hottest quaterback

[stephstars08]

🥵Currently Obsessed With This Look🥵

[taeyohonic]

competition (m)

gif credit to the rightful owner @t-heia

Summary: When an unhealthy competition goes one step too far, you have to bear the consequences. Even if it means detention with your nemesis – Lee Taeyong. (requested)

Member: Lee Taeyong (NCT)

Warning: Light Swearing, Making Out

Additional Tags: Straight-A-Student!Taeyong, Enemies To Lovers, Quaterback!Taeyong, Multilingual!Reader, Female!Reader, High School AU

Words: 3400

“Who wants to start?” Your headmaster’s voice sounds stern, but you can see the exhaustion in is face as an agitated hand brushes through his grey hair.

“Maybe the one, who actually started it?”, your opponent replies, and you give him the evil eye.

“Maybe the one, provoking the other to start?”

Taeyong huffs and shakes his head, leaning back in his seat.

“Provocation only works when one is not focused enough.” You face your classmate with sheer disbelieve in your eyes.

“Not focused enough? I was killing it.” He leans further back in his chair, seemingly unfastened by your outburst.

“And then you tried killing me.” Taeyong’s answer is accompanied by him casually crossing his arms over his chest.

A quick laugh escapes you. “Oh, nobody has ever died from chalk in th-”

“ENOUGH” Now you just hear exhaustion in Mr. Kim’s voice as he stands up to walk around his oak desk and leans against it, eliminating the barrier between the three of you. He grabs the piece of paper, which your math teacher wrote, from his desk to read out loud:

“Y/N and Taeyong displayed poor social behaviour in class today. Y/N tried to finish a difficult equation on the board. As she faltered, Taeyong made a snarky comment. Y/N then threw the chalk stick directly at her classmate, hitting him just below the eye. Please, Mr. Kim, chose a punishment suited for both of them.”

Mr. Kim stops the report and looks at you two, letting an uncomfortable silence hang in the air.

“Anything to add, Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Lee?”

You are not the biggest fan of Mrs. Oh, your math teacher, but her recount is actually spot on.

“No, Sir.”, Taeyong says, agreeing with you.

“Let’s be clear here”, your headmaster begins and breathes deeply to calm himself enough to lecture two sixteen-year olds, that clearly should know better. Especially because even if Taeyong and you both had to share your braincells, you’d still be thrice as smart as Mr. Kim.

“Your impressive accomplishments do not give you permission to act like… like…” The old man is awkwardly waving between you two. “…this.”

This is a steady competition and it makes you go slightly insane. You joined this school last October, only giving you a year to complete high school at the top of your class. Not only did you have to integrate into a whole new social peer group – it did not go well – no, you had to leave your old friends and your safe first place 234 miles away.

So not only were you extremely pissed at your parents for shifting branches in their firm, you were also extremely determined to make it to the top of this class, walking away from this hell with a fuck-you-all smile, the best internship and a guaranteed scholarship. The only problem with your master plan, there already was a person at first place.

Lee Taeyong. Class president. Leading Quarterback. Math genius. Hottest male in a 40-mile radius. Seriously, how god could be this generous, you’d never understand. When his personality clearly doesn’t deserve it. Taeyong is always helpful, never signalling the student body that their opinions weren’t relevant. He always has a smile on his face, always bending down to get on eye level with others. And you hate that. You hate that fake smile, the fake empathy and most of all you hate the fact that you would have done exactly the same thing, when you’d been there first.

But nobody wants an Angelina Jolie, when one can have a Jennifer Aniston. So, you tried to establish your own role in this school. You became the president of the debate team, excelled at every single language course – easy considering you are fluent in four languages – and took your running abilities to good use by leading and organizing a track club for visually impaired students.

After a few months you climbed up the ranking, landing at the top at the end of the second trimester. Only problem? Taeyong didn’t leave. So now, at the start of the final trimester the first spot is occupied by two persons, making it the first time in the history of this school that that happened. Leaving you both extremely agitated with a high tension hanging around you.

“It won’t happen again.”, you try to reassure the headmaster and hear a throaty chuckle from next to you.

“Why? Are you gonna try to actually comprehend math?”

“You.. You orgueilleux âne!”, you exclaim while switching to French, so neither Mr. Kim nor Taeyong can follow you.

“DETENTION! BOTH OF YOU!” Okay, Mr. Kim has lost his cool. His face is bright read as he looks between you two.

“You’ll clean the kitchen after school, until it is as clean as your records.”

There could have been worse punishments. Although spending extra time with Taeyong isn’t the best way to end a school day, nobody said anything about interacting with one another.

You both stand up and reluctantly, after bowing to your headmaster, leave the office together.

“I cannot believe you ruined my afternoon.”, Taeyong mutters next to you, loud enough for your ears to hear.

“Hey, dimwit, this isn’t exactly what I’d call an afternoon well spend as well.”, you answer while bumping your shoulder against his frame in defence.

“But it sure is better than tainting my record.”, you add.

His amused chuckle travels directly to your stomach – making you feel more excited than annoyed.

“You’re right.”

Wait, did Taeyong just agree with you? You stand still and look at the back of the handsome top student you want under you so bad, your mind is going mad.

“W-what th- the hell?”, you whisper in disbelieve. Never in the history of mankind has Taeyong ever agreed with anything you said. Not even when you were in the same debate team.

But Taeyong doesn’t look back, he just walks directly into your classroom without noticing your absence. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. As long as he and his ego are present, he’s okay with leaving others behind.

You decide that the last ten minutes of math class are not worth participating and you make your way to the kitchen. Do you like your punishment? No. But you sure as hell will bear it with dignity.

 ***

“So we’ll just have to wash the floor, polish the countertop, stock the vegetables arriving at 4 pm and clean the soda machine?”, you repeat while starring at the lunch lady with interest. She must have been briefed by Mr. Kim because she wasn’t surprised when you visited her and asked about the procedure.

“Yes, honey. That would be all. After that you just have to lock everything up and leave the key with Mr. Kim.”, she agrees, looking at you fondly.

You are always nice to the staff at this school, which can’t be said about all the students, making you one of the favourites of the janitor, lunch and cleaning personal.

You nod in understanding and hear the school bell ringing – signalling the five-minute break before your last class.

“I’ve got to leave, but thanks for the instructions!”, you say in a haste and are just in the motion of turning around, when she says: “I sure hope this helps the both of you.”

You freeze. “What?”

The old lady has a dreamy smile on her face.

“I can’t say I was surprised, after hearing that it was you and Mr. Lee who were causing trouble.”

You still don’t understand her, raising one eyebrow in confusion.

“All this longing isn’t healthy for teenagers.”, she explains and winks at you.

“Lon-long-ging?”, you stutter, earning a silent laugh form the lunch lady.

“You can’t fool me, honey. All the stolen glances in the lunch line? The constant nagging? Your flushed cheeks whenever this boy speaks?”

You cough on your own spit. You and Taeyong longing for each other? Was this woman for real? Your cheeks flush in anger every time this … this oaf voices his opinion.

And the few times your gazes meet during lunch? Keep an eye on your enemy, that’s all. Of course, Taeyong is attractive, but can this make you forget his ugly competitive persona? No way.

“Yo-ou are … mistaken.” The disagreement tints your voice making it unbelievably hard.

But before you can start defending yourself the second bell rings, making you officially late for the track session.

“Damn”, you mutter and bow deeply, before running towards the changing room and leaving all your unhealthy thoughts of Taeyong with the lunch lady.

***

“I cannot see you scrubbing the kitchen with Mr. Too-Perfect. I really can’t.”, Yukhei breaths heavy, while taking to you.

You both are running as a tandem around the football field – having a clear view on the football team practice.

“Yuk- you can’t see in general.”, you snort and up the tempo, animating your blind friend to keep up with you.

“Oh Y/N, with your thorough description”, he teases, “I have a clear visual of the school president.”

One time. It was one damn time, after a track race, that you lost disgracefully. You drank too many cheap beers and started describing Taeyong’s body to your new blind friend. One monologue Yukhei hasn’t let you forget.

“Just … because he’s handsome, does-n’t m…ean he can’t clean.”, you answer, but you are too strained to make your voice sound as snippy as you want to. If Yuk can still make fun of you, you are going too slow. So again, you make your feet move faster, earning a groan from your track partner and a dull pain from your muscles.

You sweat terribly but running makes you feel deliciously alive. And you crave that. So you don’t care.

And you sure as hell don’t care that a certain quarterback hasn’t let you out of his eyes.

***

Your hair is still wet from the shower you took as your tired legs drag you into the now empty kitchen. The key rests on the counter and you see that the lunch lady has already moved all the cleaning supplies into plain view for you to use.

You feel bone tired but that doesn’t matter to Mr. Kim. With a defeated sigh you move towards the mop, recognizing the bright yellow floor cleaner from home. Before you can start to mix the water with the chemical, you hear Taeyong enter the kitchen.

“Where do you want me?”, he greets and sounds as tired as you feel. You don’t know if he is trying to be indecent. But one glance at his tired features make you think he’s genuinely waiting for supervision. So you decide to play nice.

“You can start with the counters. There should be some rags at the sink.”, you explain and start cleaning the floor with tardy motions.

There is a comfortable silence for the next minutes, both of you exhausted from the physical activities of your last classes.

Taeyong breaks this silence first.

“You ready for your track meet this weekend?”

The question sounds so earnest, you nearly loose the grip on the mop.

“W-hat?”

His eyes rest on your face. Taeyong showered as well, leaving his hair wetly pinned on his forehead. His cloths cling to his damp body, the outline of his abs clearly visible. You swallow uncomfortably.

“The track meet? This weekend?”, he tries again, slowing his words down.

“Sure”, you answer with flushed cheeks.

“How about … your game?”, you reply with the semi-final this Sunday in mind.

His answering smirk is so gorgeous you have to focus your eyes back on the wet floor.

“When have we ever lost?”

His cockiness is so unattractive you snort loudly.

“27th of May this year.” Your mop moves lazily around the floor. “– devastatingly”

“I wasn’t even there for that game, Y/N.”, Taeyong defends himself and you can formally taste his hurt pride in the words. It makes you giddy.

“Doesn’t matter captain – your team”, you point at him with the mop in hand, “your loss.”

Taeyong throws the rag in the sink with an angry huff.

“What about the 14th of April? Hmm Y/N?”, he responds and moves closer to you, taking the mop out of your grip.

14th of April. Not a good day. A terrible loss against your rivals. Leading to the infamous beer-fuelled adoration of Taeyong in front of your teammates. Not a good day at all.

“I never claimed my team was perfect.”, you spit and take an uncharacteristic step towards Taeyong, invading his personal space.

He inspects you with a flaming gaze.

“Why can’t we have one normal conversation?”, he sighs.

“Without verbally degrading the other?”, you add and notice his smell. The scent of citrus overshadows his normal wood-ish smell. And you hate that you notice this just as much as you hate how fast your heart is racing.

“Yeah”

“Impossible”

“Why?”

Because you have something that I want. And hating you is the only option to overthrow you.

“Because”, you answer, swallowing your inner thoughts.

Taeyong laughs softly.

“That is a weak argument coming from the debate champion.

The tension is thick in the air as the two of you glare at each other. An uncomfortable vibration surrounds you, making it impossible to organize your thoughts. Then there is sudden movement – Taeyong throws the mop on the floor, takes the last step towards you before attacking your lips.

“Wha-…”, A surprised moan escapes your lips as your arms circle around his thick neck searching for support against his attack.

His lips move deliciously aggressive against your own, parting them impatiently so his tongue can dominate your mouth.

“Mhm” The groan that leaves his lungs vibrates through is body and travels across your bodies. There is no space left so tight you are pressing against him. Your fingers find their way into his still damp hair, clawing at his scalp in desperation, needing to be closer. Taeyong’s mouth is hot and wet and delicious and you involuntarily start to suck on his tongue which earns yourself a throaty growl from your partner.

His hands move agitated around your hips, gaining momentum to lift you up on the counter without breaking the kiss. You try to breathe through your nose as the steel surface surprises your overheated body.

Taeyong’s lips leave your mouth dragging a thread of spit with them. If one of your braincells would be working right now, you’re sure you’d be disgusted. But in this moment, all you can feel is deep want as you moan through your bruised lips. His mouth doesn’t leave your body for long, dragging wetness slowly down your neck.

“Oh- shit.”

He lightly bites the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder and you whimper, earing yourself a throaty chuckle from your partner. In reflex, you buckle your heat against the hardness of his middle. The chuckle is silenced as you feel his restrained dick against your core.

“Damn, woman.”, Taeyong mutters and claims your mouth again with new found urgency. You feel like flames are licking at every covered skin of your body and you start to move against him to relieve some of the tension. Your hands leave his fisted hair to trail against his back, scratching against his t-shirt, wanting nothing more than to claw it into pieces.

His hands rest steely against your mid, aiding the movement of your hips. Your heart beats merciless, while your brain has officially resigned. Daring fingers slip under his shirt to feel Taeyong’s tensed abs.

“Uh-m”

It feels like ice cold water is injected into your veins as an unknown sound pierces through your tense moment. With inhumane speed the both of you still, before entangling your heated limps from the tight embrace.

Red is colouring your cheeks as your eyes move to the intruder.

The older man looks as if you were practicing dark magic in front of him, his incredulous eyes wider than you have ever seen them. Thousand thoughts rush around your brain which decided to start functioning again.

You kissed. You kissed him. And by the way of Mr. Kim’s heated face, you also kissed your credibility goodbye.

“The vegetable supplier is waiting for you.”, your headmaster says with bewilderment in his voice, not commenting on the scene he walked in on moments ago.

You didn’t know your blush could get any worse, but here you are, more the colour of the tomato that you were sent to stock than the taint of an actual human.

***

“You a-re as dump as yo-you are hot.”, you whimper as Taeyong’s tongue moves in wet circles around your shoulder blade. His hot breath fans around your exposed skin and you shiver, goosebumps cover your skin.

“Hear me out, Y/N.”, your nemesis begs.

“Eat me out, ass.”, you moan against the wall in front of you feeling Taeyong’s smile behind you. He has caged you against the wall of your chemistry lab. The class ended ten minutes ago, making you late again to your track session. A pattern your blind best friend is used to by now.

“I’m always so blown away by your debating skills.”, Taeyong scolds while cupping one of your breasts in a demeaning manner.

“Yo-…you’re blown away by my blowing skills a-ass-… well.”, you respond in a snippy tone, which dies in your throat due to your partner pressing you flushed against the cold wall. His hand on your breast soften the blow, but the cold of the stone is such a stark contrast to the hot breath on your neck that you shiver in content.

“Come on, why can’t we help each other out?”, he starts again. “We both want the scholarship, we both want the first place, we both want to fuck.”

His list is so true, you want to tattoo it on your skin. Hormones are the worst. And something you hadn’t prepared for. But could have anything prepared you for the force of Taeyong?

“How?”, you ask in defeat moving your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.

The victory is colouring Taeyong’s voice as he explains: “We’re both first place now.” A kiss is placed on your ear. “We’ll keep it that way.” Another one lands on your scalp. “They’ll have no choice but to gift us both with scholarships.”

Why does this plan sound so easy? A dark suspicion clouds your head and you turn around facing him for the first time during your conversation. Taeyong’s eyes betray his arousal; they are as black as your shirt.

Your gaze lingers on his flushed cheeks, moves to his prominent Adam’s apple, before resting on the faint hickey you left on his neck last weekend after his phenomenal semi-final. It was the first time since transferring to this school that you attended his game. And seeing him sweat, hustle and win made you regret every unattended game.

You try to focus again, abandoning all thoughts of heated making outs in the changing room, sloppy hand jobs in his car and the one eating out session after your aced oral presentation in French class.

Taeyong’s plan has to have a catch. Perfect things always have.

“Why should I trust you?”, you ask, already your mind is running a dozen of scenarios where this boy scores one single point more than you, making you the laughing stock of the whole student body.

“When have I ever lied to you?”

He has a point. Even though the school president sometimes placates others with half-truths, he has never been more than unflatteringly honest with you.

“I want a fucking contract.”, you say stubbornly, refusing to let his words get to you. Taeyong laughs loudly into your stony face.

“You really would be the kind of senior student to sue fucking classmate for deceiving you.”

“You bet your ass.”, you admit and cup his semi-hard cock over his jeans in a threatening grip. That shuts him up instantly.

“Girl, as long as you own my dick, I’ll sign your contract in blood.”, he moans, and you smile in victory.

***

A/N Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this OS! I had this request in my inbox for so long, I’m a bit ashamed that it took this much time  to finish this. I was debating the end of this fic for so long, it gave me a real headache. Thanks to the anon for requesting this! I hope you’re all doing well and are ready for the upcoming week! All the love, Dana

[stephstars08]

Anon you're in for a treat (many of them actually if you ride on the Joe train!! 🥵🔥

Yes indeed! Joe is the hottie of the NFL!😏❤️‍🔥