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fatecantstopme · 1 month

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My Past, My Present, My Future

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, Endverse!Dean x reader

Summary: You get dragged to the future along with Dean to witness the aftermath of the apocalypse. Follows the plot of "The End" (Season 4, Episode 4)

Warnings: mentions of death, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dirty talk.

A/N: If I tell you too much, it'll ruin the story...enjoy!

It had been 2009 when you and Dean had fallen asleep in a hotel in Kansas City. You were awoken by the sound of your boyfriend's voice muttering "What the hell?"

You opened your eyes to find yourself in a completely trashed room--it looked like an actual bomb had gone off. It took you a moment to realize it was the same room you'd fallen asleep in.

"Dean?" you asked in confusion.

He was staring out the window, so you joined him, the two of you now staring out a what remained of the city.

"What happened?" you whispered.

"I have no idea." He looked back at you, worry etched into his face. "We should get moving. See if we can find anyone else."

As the two of you walked through the city streets, you found yourselves completely alone--that is, until you came across a little girl crouched in an alleyway all alone.

As the little girl attacked Dean, you saw the word "Croatoan" painted on a brick wall. Dean defended himself, knocking the girl unconscious.

You simply pointed to the word, a look of dread on your face. Dean's gaze followed your finger and the same expression crossed his features.

"Shit," he muttered.

Suddenly, a group of infected people rounded the corner and spotted the two of you. You both took off running, desperate to avoid becoming their next meal.

"Dead end!" you yelled at Dean, but neither of you had time to figure out your next move. The infected people are still behind you when a heavily armed military unit opened fire on the group.

The commotion gave you and Dean the time you needed to escape. The two of you stayed hidden until nightfall. When you emerged, you noticed a sign on the fence surrounding the entrance to the city.

"Dean," you said softly, pointing to the sign. "Croatoan Hot Zone."

He stepped forward to get a better look. "August 1st, 2014? How...?"

"Great," you muttered. "So we're in the future."

"Apparently...and it ain't pretty."

You shared a look and muttered "Angels," in unison.

You managed to find an abandoned car that still had gas, so Dean hot-wired it and the two of you sped off. You were desperately trying to find a cell signal or even a radio signal when Zachariah made an appearance in the backseat of the car.

"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap," Dean growled.

In response, Zachariah simply began to read a Newspaper he'd brought with him. The headlines were dark, detailing some of the terrible events that had occurred in this morbid future.

"How the hell did you find us?" Dean asked in annoyance.

"Human informants from some of the fringier religious groups," Zachariah answered.

"That guy on the street last night," you said to Dean, who nodded.

"Send us back. Now," Dean demanded.

"No can do. The two of you are staying put in 2014 for a few days so you can see exactly what happens to the world if Dean continues to say no to Michael."

"You're an ass," you muttered.

Dean smirked a little. "As much as I love having (Y/N/N) as my copilot, why'd you have to drag her into this?"

"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Zachariah said with a wave of his hand. "She's here because she might be the only person who can convince you to do the right thing. She needs to see just how bad it gets almost as much as you need to."

Before either you or Dean could respond, Zachariah disappeared, zapping himself back to wherever the hell he hung out.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate angels?" you mumbled under your breath.

Dean simply nodded. "Me too, sweetheart."

"Where we headed?"

"Bobby's."

You kept your thoughts to yourself. Dean didn't need you to tell him it was unlikely Bobby had survived this, especially being wheelchair-bound. He wasn't a fool, but you knew it was better to let him have just a little bit of hope.

**********

As expected, Bobby's house was empty, save for his wheelchair and an absolute mess of junk. Dean was silent as he surveyed the room, putting the wheelchair back upright with a sad sigh.

He went to the mantel behind Bobby's desk and pried it open, pulling out Bobby's old journal. In it, he found a picture of several men with shotguns posing in front of a sign for Camp Chitaqua, Bobby and Cas among them.

He held the picture up for you to see and you exhaled softly. "Road trip?"

He nodded and the two of you headed for the camp. You managed to sneak past the guards, but as you were making your way farther into the camp, Dean grabbed your arm.

You followed his gaze and realized his once-beautiful Impala was parked off to the side completely junked out.

"Oh not you too, Baby," he whispered as he leaned forward to inspect the car.

You would have laughed if you hadn't been staring down the barrel of your own future.

"Dean--" the rest of your sentence was silenced as you fell to the ground, knocked unconscious by someone behind you.

The man was fast enough that both you and Dean were unconscious without a single sound.

When your eyes fluttered open some time later, you found yourself seated in a wooden chair, wrists gently bound to the arms. You saw Dean sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, arms cuffed to a ladder bolted to the floor. He wasn't moving and you whispered his name in worry.

"So you're awake." Had you not been staring at Dean when you heard the voice, you would have been certain it had been him talking.

You looked around, jaw dropping as Dean stepped out from his place against the wall behind you. It was Dean, but it wasn't your Dean. His face looked a little more haggard and the light in his eyes was dimmed almost to extinction.

"Who--how--?" you tried to ask.

"I could ask you the same question."

You looked back over at Dean's unconscious form and the other Dean sighed.

"He'll be fine...as long as you answer some questions. I know neither of you are some kind of supernatural creature--trust me, I tried all the tests. But he carries every weapon on him that I do and well--there's a striking resemblance." He trailed off for a moment. "Then there's you...any chance you can explain why you look like my dead wife's identical twin?"

You were saved from responding by the sounds of your Dean stirring. "What the hell?" he muttered as he realized he was cuffed in place.

"Thanks for joining us," the other Dean stated. "I was just asking your friend here why you look like my doppelgänger. Care to share?"

Dean looked between you and the older version of himself and sighed slowly. "Probably because I am you--well, the you from 2009. And she's (Y/N) from 2009. We were dragged here to 2014 courtesy of Zachariah."

Future Dean nodded. "Sounds like something he would do. He always was a dick."

You smirked a little, appreciating that somethings never changed. However, your mind was still reeling from the words Future Dean had said to you mere seconds before your Dean had woken up...dead wife.

"As much as I'd like to believe you, I need to be sure." Future Dean crouched down in front of your Dean, eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me something only we would know."

Your Dean flicked his gaze to you for a moment before turning back to meet his own stare. "We were 19. Rhonda Hurley made us try on her satin panties. They were pink. And you know what? We kinda liked it."

You giggled lightly at his admission and Future Dean cracked a small smile and muttered, "Touché."

Future Dean stood back up, turning his attention to you. You were surprised to see the sadness in his green eyes--a look you'd only ever seen once before.

"You haven't looked at me like that since Jo and Ellen died," you said softly.

Future Dean grimaced. "A lot has happened in the past five years, (Y/N). I carry a hell of a lot more weight than I did in 2009."

You waited for him to continue, as you knew he would.

"A lot of shit happened--really bad shit. The apocalypse, demons, releasing the Croatoan virus...we lost a lot of good people, people I cared about." He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "Three years ago, a small team of us tried to infiltrate a demon lair in an attempt to get Lucifer's location. I led one team, (Y/N) led the other. I don't know how, but they knew we were coming. I couldn't get my whole team out, but (Y/N)--she-she fought until the very end. She made certain her whole team made it out of there alive."

Your breath caught in your chest as you let his words sink in. You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, even though it was obvious he was trying to hide it. Your Dean let out a soft pained sound and you felt the strong urge to go to him, but the ropes around your wrists held you in place.

Future Dean continued, "When I found out they'd left her behind, I went back...the demons had already cleared out, having gotten what they wanted. I found her..." He trailed off, gaze finally raising to meet yours. "I found you...broken and bleeding. I held you in my arms as you took your last breath. I carried you back home and I built your pyre. I wouldn't let anyone else near you. I lost something that day I could never replace, and it changed me forever."

"Dean," you whispered softly. Tears filled your (y/e/c) eyes as you stared into his mossy green ones. "I'm so sorry."

He almost laughed at your response. "I just told you that you die because of me and you're the one who's sorry?" He let out a pained chuckle. "You always did love me more than I deserved."

Your expression was soft and your smile even softer. "I don't blame you. It doesn't matter why or how it happened--it wasn't your fault. I make my own choices, as you well know. So if I chose to stay behind to save other people, then that was my decision and the consequences are for me to bear."

He closed his eyes for a few moments, allowing your words to wash over him. He'd never even imagined he would have the pleasure of hearing your voice again, let alone see your smile, or hear your laugh. He felt his armor crack just enough that a sliver of the Dean you had always loved shone through. It terrified him, your ability to affect him even now, but he knew his love for you had never dimmed and never would.

"What about Sam?" your Dean asked, breaking the silence.

"There was a heavy weight showdown in Detroit a few years back. From what I heard, Sam didn't make it out."

"From what you heard?" Dean asked in shock. "You mean you weren't with him?"

"We hadn't spoken since 2009."

You had your own opinions on Dean's decision to part ways with Sam and you'd been very vocal about it. You could tell by your Dean's expression that he was shocked and guilty about how that decision had played out.

Future Dean turned his gaze to you and you saw the same regret in his eyes that you'd seen in your Dean's. But something about his expression and the intensity of his gaze made you wonder if he was regretting the same thing as your Dean.

Future Dean exhaled slowly and averted his eyes again, pulling his invisible mask back down. "I have a mission, so I have to go. The two of you are going to stay here for the time being. I can't have the younger version of me running around the camp and there are quite a few people here that remember you, (Y/N). So stay here and don't cause any trouble."

You shot a look to your Dean who grumbled something about being left chained up. Future Dean gave you one last sad look before going out the door and leaving you two behind.

"How long until you get yourself out of those cuffs?" you teased softly.

"How long until you squeeze your hands out of that rope future me barely tied?" Dean sniped back.

You smiled and shifted your left hand so you could grab ahold of the knot Future Dean had tied. It took you less than 10 seconds to get it untied and even fewer to release your other hand.

Dean shot you a grin. "That's my girl."

You rolled your eyes, scanning the room for something to pick the handcuff lock with. "You're the one who didn't tie them tightly."

"Future me," he emphasized. "Clearly he's got a soft spot for you."

You smirked. "So do you." Your eyes landed on a small pen knife sitting on the table. You grabbed it, holding it up for him to see.

His eyes sparkled with several different emotions and you knew he was reeling from everything you'd just learned. Hell, you were busy compartmentalizing all of your emotions so you didn't fall apart.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."

You offered him a sweet smile before leaning down to his level and picking the lock on his cuffs with the pen knife. As soon as he was free, you helped him to his feet.

"Okay, I'm gonna go have a look around," he said. "You stay here."

"Dean--" you started to protest.

"Hey, it's not like I don't want you with me, but you heard what future me said...there are people here who will recognize you--people who know you're dead."

You sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine. Why don't you go first, make sure it's clear, then I'll follow you."

Dean glared at you for a long moment, before his expression softened. He knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. "Alright. Just stay out of sight, okay? I don't need one of these trigger-happy yahoos shooting you because they think you're a monster or something."

You nodded your agreement and Dean slowly opened the door to the cabin. You stay inside until he beckoned you to join him. You stayed close to the edge of the cabin as you waited for him to gesture for you to follow.

Just as Dean rounded the corner, Chuck Shirley stepped directly into his path, stopping him in his tracks. You stayed back, back pressed against the side of the cabin.

"Uh, hey there Chuck," Dean said.

Chuck started to ask him about what they should do about a shortage of perishable items and hygiene products before realizing Dean was supposed to be out on a mission.

"Yeah, I-uh-I was gonna head out now," Dean lied.

Suddenly, a woman crossed into your field of vision and swung a punch and a kick at Dean. He jumped back and grabbed Chuck, pulling him in-between himself and the angry woman.

Your instincts screamed for you to help him, but you knew you needed to stay hidden. You listened as the woman, Risa, yelled at Dean for spending the night in another woman's cabin the night before.

"You said we had a connection," she snapped.

You almost laughed at that--it was exactly the kind of thing Dean would say to a woman to appease her.

You watched as Risa angrily stomped away and Dean exhaled in relief. He quickly asked Chuck if Cas is around and he gestured to a cabin close by. "I don't think he's going anywhere," Chuck said lightly as he walked off.

As soon as he was out of sight, Dean's gaze landed on you and he waved at you to follow him. You followed closely behind as he entered the cabin, staying just out of sight of anyone inside.

You could hear Cas's voice, but it sounded different than you remembered it being--softer and maybe even lazier than before.

He must have spotted Dean because you heard him acknowledge him as their "fearless leader". You heard Cas tell the women in the room to wash up and prepare for the orgy.

A group of girls walked by you and Dean as you both step into the room.

"Orgy?" Dean asked incredulously.

Castiel simply shrugged as he regarded both of you. "(Y/N)," he murmured quietly. "This is a surprise."

You sighed. "I'd imagine so. I hear I'm dead."

"Indeed you are." Castiel's gaze landed on Dean. "And you're not the Dean of this time. When are the two of you from?"

"2009," you answered.

"Zachariah sent us here," Dean added.

"Ahh," Cas mumbled. "I shouldn't be surprised."

"Okay, so nice to see you and all that, but can you zap us back please?" Dean asked.

Cas giggled slightly and Dean's gaze narrowed in annoyance.

"Dude, are you stoned?"

"Generally, yeah," Cas replied.

Dean looked over at you, but you were just as surprised as he was. You shrugged and Dean let out a quiet groan.

"I don't have powers anymore," Cas said simply. "When the end came, the angels just left...bored with their playthings, I guess. When they left, so did my powers."

"Oh great," Dean muttered.

"Dean," you said in a warning tone. "Don't."

Cas smiled at you and crossed the room to give you a hug. You were a little surprised, but you returned the gesture.

"It's good to see you, (Y/N). You were always the only person who could keep Dean in line."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you at his words. "We've had the pleasure of meeting the Dean of this time. I imagine he's not exactly one to defer to anyone."

For a moment Castiel's expression grew wistful, as if remembering a better time. "He used to, but he changed rather significantly when you died. It's been three years and he still hasn't gotten over your death. He's not the same Dean you knew."

You glanced at your Dean and exhaled softly. "Knowing him, he's just hid that part of himself so far down he's forgotten it even exists."

Dean's gaze met yours and you knew you were right. You could see it is eyes--he knew exactly what losing you would do to him. He knew the kind of man he would become.

Cas glanced back and forth between the two of you and shook his head. "You always could read each other's minds. It's nice to see that again. But I am curious, how did our Dean handle meeting the two of you?"

"Not well," you admitted.

"Pretty sure he was happier to see you than he was to see me," Dean muttered.

You chuckled mildly. "Well I'm the dead one, so it seems fitting."

Dean winced and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried to smile at you, but the pain in his gaze ensured the expression didn't meet his eyes.

Before any of you could utter another word, the sound of trucks pulling up sounded from outside the cabin. You let Dean walk out first, followed by Cas. You opted to remain in the shadows just inside the doorway. You could see what was happening outside without being noticed.

You saw Future Dean getting out of one of the trucks and tossing a beer to another man. They cracked them open and the other man turned his back on Dean.

You watched in horror as Future Dean raised his pistol, pointing it at the man's back. Your Dean ran out, yelling for him to stop, but it was too late. Future Dean pulled the trigger and the man fell to the ground.

Future Dean whirled around, coming face to face with your Dean, eyes full of anger. As Dean began to argue with Future Dean, you ran out in an attempt to calm both men. Castiel grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

The gasps and shocked faces of the people around you reminded of you of the position you'd just put yourself in. Most people were staring at your Dean in confusion, but several gazes had landed on you. You recognized a few of the faces and you knew in your heart these people had known you--the other you.

Future Dean gestured to your Dean and said, "Me and him--it's messed up, okay? But if you need to know something, then I'll tell you when you need to know it."

As Future Dean glanced around, he noticed some people were not looking at him--or at his doppelgänger. He followed one person's gaze and his body froze when his eyes landed on you. Even though he'd known you were here, it was still painfully jarring to see you.

What was worse, was he wasn't sure how to explain your presence--too many people had known you. A few of them had been there when you'd died.

You locked eyes with Future Dean and your heart ached for him. You could see the turmoil in his eyes and the difficulty he was having formulating any kind of words to address your presence. He might not be your Dean, but you still loved him--after all, he was the man your Dean would one day become.

You stepped forward, gently pulling yourself from Castiel's grasp. "Dean," you whispered softly, sad eyes meeting his.

"Some of you might remember my wife, (Y/N)," Future Dean said calmly. "I'm not prepared to explain her presence to all of you, but just know that she's not here to cause any harm."

His statement seemed to appease most of the small gathering, but you saw some darker expressions cross the faces of a few people in the crowd.

Future Dean stepped forward and grabbed your Dean by the jacket, practically dragging him towards his cabin. His gaze landed on you and he gestured for you to follow.

"Didn't I tell both of you to stay put?" he growled as he closed the door behind him.

Your Dean began to argue, but he was silenced by Future Dean's anger.

"He was infected, okay? I've been doing this a long time and you learn to see the signs. I did what I had to do."

"We know that," you said softly.

Both men looked at you in surprise, but your gaze was firmly on Future Dean's face. You wanted him to know you understood--you weren't even sure why.

"You didn't need to kill him in front of everyone," your Dean commented.

Future Dean's gaze cut to him like a blade. "Yeah because seeing my freaking clone and my dead wife was so much better."

Your Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Future Dean cut him off.

"The last thing these people need is to see me arguing with you, okay? They're twitchy survivors who can't handle this. This is my time, not yours, so stay in your lane."

Dean backed off, realizing Future Dean was right. He was nothing more than an observer in this time and he needed to act like it.

Future Dean pulled out three glasses and poured a drink for each of you. Your eyes scaned his face, keen senses picking up on the emotions clearly stirring beneath the calm surface. You wanted to talk to him, get him to open up, but you knew this wasn't the time.

"So what was the mission for?" you asked gently.

Future Dean gave you an appreciative look. "Five years of searching--five long years and I finally found it." He pulled something out of his jacket and laid it on the table. "The Colt."

"How?" your Dean asked in surprise.

"Demons have been moving it around for years, but we finally got good intel on its location."

You felt uneasy as you regarded him. You couldn't read him as well as you could your Dean, but you knew he was thinking about something--something you weren't going to like. "What's your plan?" you asked warily.

"Tomorrow night," he said, dark gaze fixed on your face, "I'm gonna kill the devil."

Shock lit up both your's and your Dean's faces. "We have no idea if the Colt's gonna work!" you protested, fear lacing your voice.

"It's our only shot and I'm gonna take it," he countered.

You glanced at your Dean and you could tell he didn't like the sound of this plan any more than you did. Sure, you both wanted to find the Colt in your time and kill the devil so none of this would happen, but there was no way to know if it would work. No one had ever tried it on an archangel before.

"Can I speak to my wife alone for a moment?" Future Dean asked, further shocking you both.

"I, uhh--" you stuttered.

Your Dean looked at you sympathetically, a sad expression settling onto his face. You knew what the look meant, so you weren't surprised to hear him agree. He stepped outside, leaving you and Future Dean alone.

"You know it's hard for me," he began, "seeing you after all this time."

"It's not easy on me either," you admitted, "seeing the man you become...and knowing I'm not going to be with you much longer."

He looked down in shame. "I know I'm not the man you love." He gestured to where your Dean stood outside. "I'm not him. But I have never stopped loving you--never stoped missing you."

You closed your eyes for a moment. "I know. I can feel it."

"I knew you would," he said softly. "I'm sure knowing what the future has in store for both of us isn't something you'd expected to see."

You shook your head. "I certainly didn't expect to hear you call me 'your wife'."

A small smirk played across his lips. "You get your priorities straight when the world is about to end. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did."

You smiled slowly, but your heart ached too much to continue this train of discussion. "So why did you want to speak alone?"

He inhaled deeply. "I wanted to talk to you without him around to persuade you otherwise."

"Persuade me to do what, exactly?"

His gaze was intense as he stepped towards you. If you didn't know him, it would have frightened you. "When you go back to 2009, I want you to pack up your things and leave. Leave me as far behind as you can--run and never look back."

A mixture of shock and sorrow darkened your features. "I-I can't do that."

He reached out and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. "You have to, (Y/N)," he pleaded. "It's the only way I can keep you safe--alive."

You shook your head. "I can't leave you."

He caressed your cheek gently, his calloused hands molding perfectly to your face. "I need you to do this for me, sweetheart. I know it won't be easy and I-he won't understand, but it's for the best. He'll realize it in the end."

"Marrying me was the best thing you've ever done, but you want to deny yourself that joy? Deny me?"

"I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than watch you die again. It almost killed me, (Y/N). Hell, in a way it kinda did. I'm not that man anymore, and I don't want that for him."

You touched his face gently, fingers grazing against the rough stubble on his cheek. "You're wrong, you know. I can see him in you. You might be older, damaged in ways I can't understand, but the man I love lives in you. You and I both know Dean is going to tell me the same thing when we get back to 2009. It will break his heart, but he will beg me to leave if there's even a remote chance it will save my life."

His expression told you exactly how right you were.

"Looks like you haven't changed all that much--at least not in the ways that matter."

A flicker of pain crossed his face, but he was quick to hide it. He loved you so much it hurt and he knew there was no hope for him. He had to believe that the Dean from 2009 would heal from losing you, especially if it meant you got to live.

"Sometimes, I'll lie awake at night and stare at your picture--talk to it, even. I dream of you often and it breaks my heart every time I wake up to find you're not there. I miss you with every part of my tattered soul."

"Dean..." you whispered, leaning into him.

"I know you don't love me, but I need you to know how deeply I love you, even now. You hold my heart in the palm of your hand, (Y/N). You always have."

You stood on your tip-toes and brushed your lips across his cheek. "You are him," you whispered lowly. "I love him, so I love you. Five years of hell on earth doesn't change that."

Tears filled his eyes and he pulled you tightly against him. He never wanted to let you go, no matter what the cost. He felt conflicted about loving you so much, but he knew without a doubt in his mind that the 2009 version of himself would understand.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before settling his chin down against it. He loved the way you fit in his arms, as if you were made for them. He wanted you so badly it hurt--an ache so deep in his bones he knew he would never be rid of it.

It took all of his strength--all his willpower--to pull away, releasing you and taking a step back.

You looked up at him with compassionate (y/e/c) eyes, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, heal his pain. You hadn't been lying when you said you loved him. You could feel the man you loved beneath the hardened exterior, and it broke your heart to see him in so much pain.

Your eyes scanned his face again, but he couldn't meet your gaze. You knew his body ached for your touch--you knew because your Dean had always been that way. It had been three years since Future Dean had felt your body against his, so you knew exactly how much it was killing him.

You sighed, glancing out the little window at the front of the cabin. Your Dean stood out there, shoulders set in that stern way you were used to seeing. Your heart ached for him--you knew it was hard for him to be in this situation. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and you knew he felt the same. Seeing the way his future self looked at you likely made him contemplate things he shouldn't have had to bear.

"Stay here," you whispered to Future Dean. You stepped past him, heading for the door.

Future Dean watched as you exited, eyes fixated on the way you moved--desperately trying to commit every inch of you to memory.

"Hey," your Dean said softly as you stepped outside. "You okay?"

"Not really," you admitted. "You?"

He gave you a sad smile and shook his head. "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"I know."

"No, sweetheart, I don't think you do," he said gently, but firmly. "You have an idea, sure, but you don't know--not the way I do. I can see it on his face--on my face. The way he misses you, the love he so clearly feels for you...the emptiness inside of him only you can fill. I know all of those feelings, (Y/N). I can't even fathom the pain of losing you. It hurts to even think about."

You touched his arm gently and he leaned into the touch as if on instinct.

"I know what he's feeling, even if I can't fully experience it myself. I know the devastation I would feel if I lost you--I don't think I'd ever fully recover. Add to that all the loss he's experienced in the last five years and I can understand why he's the way he is. I see myself in him...and I can see myself becoming him."

Dean turned his full attention to you and his next words shocked you to your very core.

"He needs you, (Y/N). I have a bad feeling about tomorrow night and I think you might be the only thing that stops him from doing something reckless. It pains me to say this--to give you up, even for a moment, but he needs you. I know it might feel weird, wrong even, but he's me...and I get him, more than I'd care to admit."

Your lips parted in surprise. "I-I don't know if I can do that, Dean."

He touched your face gently and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "He's me, (Y/N)...and he needs you. You're his wife, after all. So go."

Your eyes scanned his face for any sign of discomfort, but you only saw sadness. Part of you hated this idea, but the other part knew he was right. You'd felt it when you'd been with Future Dean--felt his need for you so strongly it nearly overwhelmed you.

"I love you," you whispered.

"I know, sweetheart. I love you too."

He nodded towards the cabin and gave you a soft smile. You stepped away, knowing you were about to do something that felt both incredibly wrong and incredibly right at the same time.

"Where will you go?"

"I'll hang out with Cas. Don't worry about me, baby."

You nodded and watched him walk away towards Castiel's cabin. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself before turning to the door in front of you.

Future Dean seemed almost surprised to see you as you stepped back into the cabin.

"Hi," you murmured.

"Hey."

"I can't walk away," you whispered. "Not when you're in so much pain."

He looked at you in confusion, unsure of what you were trying to tell him.

You were typically so good with words, but whatever skill you normally had failed you as you looked into his haunted green eyes. There was no way for you to fully understand the emotions he was feeling, no words to explain how desperately you wanted to heal even the smallest fraction of his soul.

You crossed the short distance between you, practically crashing into him as you grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled him down to you. The kiss surprised him, but he was in no position to pull away--wrong or not, he craved you like a drowning man in need of air.

His arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, holding on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. It felt as if you were both engulfed in flames, every sensation burning you both--scarring you in a way neither of you would ever heal from.

His hands traveled down your back, slipping under your ass to pull you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lips never leaving his.

He carried you to a small room at the back of the cabin and laid you down as gently as he could onto the mattress. There was no bed--simply a mattress on the floor, but there were blankets and a couple pillows, just enough to be comfortable.

Your hands slid inside his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders forcefully. His lips didn't leave yours as he tugged it off and tossed it out of the way. You pulled on his henley, silently begging him to take it off too, a request he immediately complied with.

He had to pull away from you just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, but the action was enough to ground him. As he gazed down at you, his heart clenched in his chest. You were just as beautiful as he remembered, eyes full of love and adoration--an expression he'd missed desperately.

"I love you so much, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.

Your expression softened slightly, realizing the pain he was feeling--the mixed emotions racing through his veins. "I love you too, Dean. Don't question that for a second."

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the palm of your hand as you reached up to cup his cheek.

"Get out of your head, baby," you murmured. "Focus on me--on this moment--nothing else."

His eyes slowly opened, gaze landing on your face. You began to blush beneath him, his hungry expression heating you from the inside out.

"You're wearing far too much clothing for my taste," he teased, voice low and throaty.

You smirked. "I know you like to rip my clothes off, but these are my only ones--so be gentle."

He groaned, just like you knew he would. Dean was notorious for literally ripping your clothes--he'd ruined more shirts and pants than you cared to admit...not to mention most of your undergarments.

"How 'bout we make a deal?" he murmured.

You hummed in response, so he continued.

"I'll promise not to rip your pants or your underwear, if you're willing to forfeit your shirt."

You looked up at him in surprise. "I don't have another shirt, Dean."

He grinned wolfishly. "But I do."

Realization crossed your features, a small smile curling the corners of your mouth. Before you could respond, he gripped your shirt in his strong hands and tore it right in half, revealing your heaving chest.

"Dean!" you admonished in surprise.

"Sorry, baby--I couldn't wait any longer. You know how impatient I get."

As if to emphasize his impatience, he lowered his mouth to your chest, tugging the cups of your bra down to expose your soft breasts. He groaned loudly before burying his face between them, nipping and sucking at the supple flesh.

You moaned softly, fingers of one hand tangling in the short locks at the base of his skull. Your other hand slipped down his broad back feeling the heated skin beneath the tips of your fingers.

You felt unfamiliar scars, which nearly brought tears to your eyes. You hated the idea of him being hurt--especially if you weren't there to care for him as he healed.

Dean sensed your shift in demeanor and he lifted his head to observe your face. "You okay, baby?"

His soft words brought you back to the present and you offered him a small smile. "New scars," you whispered.

You didn't need to elaborate, he knew exactly what you meant. He could read you just as well as you could read him. "You were there for most of them," he murmured gently.

You relaxed slightly and he sighed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You know me too well," you remarked.

"You're the love of my life, sweetheart. There's not a damn thing I don't know about you."

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and you desperately pushed the welling emotions down, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. "I need you, Dean," you whispered. "Desperately."

He had never been one to deny you, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. Besides, his own need was slowly becoming unbearable.

"I'm right here, baby. I'll make you feel so good--I promise."

He wasted no time in removing the rest of your clothing and his own. He wanted to take his time, really feel you, but he knew time was the one thing neither of you had.

"I need to taste you," he whispered into your ear before beginning his descent to your aching pussy.

Some things may have changed in the last five years, but Dean's skills in the bedroom hadn't. The things he could do with his mouth should have been categorized as a crime--his ability to have you screaming and shaking within minutes was still a shock after all this time.

He loved the way you tasted, the way your body reacted to his touch, the pretty sounds you made as he feasted on you. There wasn't a damn thing he didn't love about you, but he had to admit this was in the top five things he missed most about you. The way your body melded with his--two souls intertwining in the most fundamental way, the overwhelming pleasure he could only find in your arms...he'd be a liar if he said he hadn't dreamed of it often in the last three years.

Your nails dug into his biceps as you desperately clung to any part of him you could reach. Your orgasm swept over you seconds later, pulling moans and whimpers from your throat as he continued his assault.

Dean ignored the tugs on his hair, instead holding your hips even more firmly against the mattress as he continued to eat your pussy hungrily. It took mere moments for your whimpers to once again turn to heavy moans of need--your voice hoarse from begging him to keep going.

When your second orgasm crashed into you, your legs shook almost violently against his head, thighs threatening to crush him. He couldn't have been bothered to care--had you actually crushed him in that moment, he would have died a happy man.

He finally relented when you began begging him to give you a moment--just one moment to breathe. He lifted himself up to hover over you, licking his lips happily as he gazed down at you.

"You seem pleased with yourself," you said breathlessly.

"Oh I am." The pride he was feeling practically oozed from his pores. Nothing stroked his ego like making you fall apart over and over again.

You ran your hands up and down his arms in a gentle, soothing manner. He'd always loved the way you touched him--the sweet, loving action something he hadn't been used to before you.

"I love you," he whispered.

You met his gaze and smiled. "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."

The reply stunned him into a motionless silence. It had been years since he'd heard those words from your lips--he never thought he would be lucky enough to hear them again. In that moment, he felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, torn apart, and put back together...it hurt like hell, but he wouldn't have traded the moment for anything.

You noticed the change in him and you worried you'd said something wrong. "I'm sorry--"

"Don't apologize," he said immediately. "I just...I haven't heard those words in years and--well, it hit me harder than I thought it would. That was, umm--" he sighed heavily. "It was the last thing you said to me before you died."

His voice was a gravelly whisper, filled with unimaginable pain, and it nearly broke your heart in two. "Dean..." you murmured.

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear those words again--to hear your sweet voice remind me how much you love me. I missed you, sweetheart."

You couldn't have known how he'd react to your statement--hell, you hadn't even thought about it...the words just poured from your mouth like they had countless times before. It didn't matter what year he was from--you loved Dean Winchester with a kind of endless passion that would outlive Death himself.

You knew this experience would change you in ways you couldn't yet comprehend, but you wouldn't change it for anything. At the end of the day, this was Dean, and there was nothing you wouldn't do for him--nothing.

"Make love to me, Dean," you whispered lovingly, eyes bright with desire.

"I could never deny you, (Y/N/N)," he said sweetly. "I won't start now."

He leaned down to kiss you deeply, pulling you back into the warm embrace you craved. As the kiss progressed, your bodies became more entangled, until it was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began. It was a feeling you'd only ever felt with Dean, and one you couldn't have explained even if you tried.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally broke the kiss, breathing deeply. "I can't hold back any longer. I need you more than I need to breathe, (Y/N)."

"I'm yours, Dean."

The simple act of giving yourself over to him completely had him wanting to do nothing but worship you until the sun came up again.

He didn't hesitate, didn't overthink--your body was calling to him and he answered it gladly. In one single thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, eliciting sharp groans from you both.

"Fuck, sweetheart--I forgot how incredible you feel," he whispered against your heated skin.

You were breathless and aching, the desire for him to ruin you so overwhelming you couldn't think of anything else. "Move," you pleaded desperately, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

His body mindlessly responded to your pleas, hips setting an almost brutal pace. You both needed this--needed the release that could only come from each other.

You clung to him and he to you, the room filling with the salacious sounds of wet skin against skin and moans of endless pleasure.

"I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, baby," he groaned. "I fucking missed them so much."

"You feel so good, Dean," you gasped.

"So do you, sweetheart."

And fuck did you feel incredible. He loved you so much and you felt it in every single movement his body made. You hoped he could feel just how much you loved him in return.

"You're the only woman who could ever make me feel like this," he whispered.

You knew exactly what he meant--what he was trying to say. Sex had always been different with you. It had always felt more incredible than with anyone else he'd ever been with. The profound bound the two of you shared made everything better--even sex.

"I never want you to stop," you murmured. "It feels so good."

"Shit," he groaned, your words having more of an affect on him then he'd expected. "Keep talking like that and I'm gonna cum."

"That's what I want, Dean. Want you to fill me up."

He practically growled as he bit down on your collar bone, hips slowing as he tried to regain his composure. "Need you to cum first," he begged.

You rolled your hips against his in response and the sensations he was experiencing snapped whatever remained of his self-control. He grabbed your legs and tugged them flush against his chest and began to pound into you recklessly.

His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, pulling sharp cries of pleasure from your open mouth. Your hands grasped at the blankets beneath you, struggling desperately to find purchase anywhere.

He knew he could get you over the edge this way--he knew your body almost as well as he knew his own. Within a few short minutes, your cries of pleasure turned to screams of his name as one of the most intense orgasms of your life hit you like a tsunami.

Before you could come down from your high, Dean found his own, releasing his seed into your pussy. The contractions of your walls around him milked every last drop of cum from him before he collapsed on top of you, spent and satisfied.

Your arms immediately wrapped around him, holding him tightly against you. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest and you were certain he could feel yours. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being in the arms of the person you love most.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)," he whispered into your neck.

"As are you," you mumbled, pressing your lips into his hair.

He held you almost as tightly as you were holding him and you knew he didn't want to ever let go. Your heart ached for the man in your arms just as much as it ached for the man currently sitting in Castiel's cabin.

Love was the most complicated emotion there was, but this far surpassed any normal situation. Dean Winchester was the love of your life in any time period--past, present, or future. You hated seeing the man you loved in pain and seeing two of him in pain complicated matters beyond belief.

"Where's your head at?" he asked softly.

You chuckled lightly--he really did know you better than anyone else.

"Just thinking about this messed up situation we've found ourselves in."

He sighed quietly. "Don't think on it too much, sweetheart. Zachariah will send you back tomorrow and everything will go back to normal."

"Except for the part where both present and future versions of you want me to leave..."

He lifted his head slowly. "It's too late for me...I'm too far gone, too deeply and madly in love with you to ever push you away. But the Dean from 2009? Yeah he loves you more than he's ever loved another person in his life, but he'll learn to live without you. He has to. Otherwise he'll wake up one day in 2011 without you and he'll feel the way that I do. He'll be forced to live with a hole in his chest that no human being could ever fill, and it'll change him, (Y/N). It'll break him."

Tears streamed down your face as you listened to his words. You knew they were true--knew it was how he was feeling, how he'd felt for years. You didn't want your Dean to feel that pain, but you knew deep in your heart you couldn't walk away. There was no timeline where you could turn your back on the one person that made life worth living...but this Dean didn't need to know that.

"No more talking," you said softly. "Let's just sleep a while."

He nodded and rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. You giggled softly as you nuzzled into his chest, finding comfort in his strong arms.

**********

You awoke to the sound of knocking on the door of the cabin. You felt Dean stir beside you, a grumble of annoyance slipping past his lips. You smiled a little at his moodiness--it was nice to see some things never changed.

You pulled yourself up and got dressed quickly, grabbing a clean henley from the small pile of clothes in the corner. It was much too big on you, but it was all you had thanks to Dean's impatience.

You opened the door of the cabin and found a somewhat sheepish looking Castiel standing on the other side.

"Is, uh, is Dean awake?"

"He mumbled something rather rude when I tried to wake him up, so I let him sleep."

Cas chuckled. "Sounds about right."

"I can wake him if you need him."

Cas looked like he wanted to say no, but knew he couldn't. "Yeah, if you don't mind. We need to start planning for tomorrow if we want this to work. People are starting to talk."

You sighed. "I'll get him up."

You stepped back, leaving the door open as an invitation for Cas to come inside. He chose not to, opting instead to wait on the porch while you went to wake Dean.

"Dean? Sweetheart?" you said gently. "You need to get up."

"Five more minutes," he grumbled.

You laughed and shook him a few times. "Come on, handsome. We've got work to do."

"Fine," he groaned. "Fine."

He sat up slowly, eyes dark with sleep. He looked up at you and you offered him a soft smile, which he instantly returned.

"You're so beautiful."

You blushed. "Get dressed before Cas comes in and sees your naked ass."

"He's probably seen it a couple times by now," he teased as he got up. "Now, where'd you put my pants?"

You laughed. "I think you threw them somewhere over there." You pointed to the other side of the room where a small pile of clothes laid.

He smirked slightly and crossed the room, grabbing his clothes and putting them on quickly.

"What's up, Cas?" he asked gruffly when he came into the main room.

"The team wants to know what's going down tomorrow and uh, past you says we need to start making a plan."

He shot you a look, but you simply shrugged. You weren't at all surprised your Dean wanted to make a plan. He didn't like this whole idea in the first place, so it made sense he would want some kind of plan in place.

"Fine. Gather the team and get them in here."

Cas went off to do as asked. The first person to arrive was your Dean. One look at his handsome face had you rushing to him and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your hair and sighed softly.

"I know this is a little awkward," you said quietly to both Deans as you stepped back.

"Not as much as you would think," your Dean responded.

Future Dean nodded, but remained quiet for a few moments. He fixed your Dean with an intense gaze even you couldn't quite read. "Thank you," he said so softly you almost missed it.

Your Dean nodded his understanding. You realized it really was different for the two of them than it was for you. They were the same man five years apart...they understood each other's thoughts and emotions in a way you never could.

Before you could say anything else, Cas returned with Risa and a couple other people in tow. Risa gave both Deans an odd look before turning her dark gaze to you. You couldn't read her expression, but you felt the jealousy coming off her in waves.

"Well this is about to be uncomfortable," you murmured to your Dean, who just chuckled.

Everyone sat down around the table except for both Deans and yourself. You stood beside your Dean, and you both stood slightly back to give yourselves room to observe everyone.

Risa glared at Future Dean so intensely it made everyone uncomfortable. He gave her a confused look and simply asked, "Why are you pissed at me?"

"Something about you having a connection, but then spending the night in another chick's cabin," your Dean quipped.

You snickered softly, as did Cas. Future Dean shot a glare your way, but you simply shrugged.

"Plus your dead wife is magically not dead, so yeah, I feel some kinda way," Risa grumbled.

"The (Y/N) some of you knew is dead. This one is from 2009--same as him," Future Dean said, gesturing to your Dean. "Now that we've got that out of the way, can we please focus?"

No one dared argue with him.

Future Dean launched into his spiel about killing the devil, revealing the Colt to the other people in the room.

"How do you know it's gonna work?" Risa asked skeptically.

"It's all we've got," Future Dean answered. "We got Lucifer's location from that demon we captured last week. We know where he's gonna be for the first time in years."

"The demon might have lied for all you know," Risa snapped.

"Trust me, he was honest."

Castiel leaned towards Risa. "Dean is very well-versed in the art of getting to the truth."

You inhaled sharply, immediately understanding Castiel's meaning. Your Dean stiffened beside you and you felt the quiet rage simmering beneath the surface.

"Seriously? You went back to torture?" your Dean said angrily.

Future Dean looked at you, a resigned look of sadness on his face. You sighed and placed your hand on your Dean's arm and murmured, "Let it go, Dean."

He caught Future Dean's expression and fell silent again. There was no use arguing about his tactics now.

"Now," Future Dean said as he gestured to the map on the table. "We'll be heading in here."

"That's a hot zone," Cas said. "It's filled with Croats and demons--kinda reckless to just go barging in there don't you think?"

"Are you coming or not?" Future Dean asked, ignoring Cas's objections.

"Of course," Cas responded. "I've gotta ask though, why are they coming?" He nodded his head towards you and your Dean.

"I don't answer to you. Just know that they are coming."

Castiel put his hands up in surrender.

"Why don't you all go get supplies ready and recruit a couple more people," you suggested.

Future Dean nodded his agreement and the others left, leaving you and the Deans alone.

"Now why don't you try that again, but give an honest answer this time," you said sternly, eyes boring into Future Dean's face.

He sighed wearily. "I want you both to see what happened to Sam. Especially you." He pointed to the younger version of himself.

"What do you mean?" your Dean asked. "You said he died in Detroit."

"No, I didn't. I said he didn't make it out."

You exhaled sharply, heart nearly breaking as you realized what he was saying.

Future Dean fixed his gaze on you and you knew your assumption was correct. You instinctively reached out to your Dean in an attempt to ground him--you knew exactly how this information would affect him.

"What's going on?" your Dean asked, looking between you and his doppelgänger.

"He said yes," you whispered.

Future Dean nodded, but your Dean simply looked confused.

"The big yes," Future Dean said tiredly. "Lucifer wore him to the prom."

You gave your Dean a sad look. A flash of pain crossed his handsome features and your heart broke for him. You'd told him back in your time that he needed to forgive Sam--needed to mend their relationship. You didn't realize just how important that mending would be.

"He wouldn't do that," your Dean whispered.

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, but didn't bother to contradict him.

"Well he did," Future Dean snapped. "And when you go back, you need to say 'yes' to Michael. Immediately."

"Absolutely not!" you gasped.

Now it was Dean's turn to comfort you, his hand coming to rest on yours. "She's right. A showdown between Michael and Lucifer would torch half the planet."

"Half a planet is better than no planet," Future Dean insisted.

"If it's such a good idea, why didn't you say yes?" your Dean asked.

"Oh trust me, I tried. But by the time I was ready, the angels had given up and fucked off to wherever they are now."

"There has to be another way," your Dean whispered.

Future Dean fixed you with an expression that made everything clear to you.

"That's why you want me to leave," you began softly. "You know I would never approve of him saying yes to Michael. If I'm not around to influence him, then maybe he'll be foolish enough to say 'yes', right?"

Your Dean looked confused, but Future Dean held your gaze and you knew you were right.

"I really don't want you to die," he said gently. "But I also know exactly what you'll say...and I know the impact your words will have on my choices. Because I already made them."

"You told her to leave me?" your Dean asked slowly. "Even knowing what that'll do to me?"

"You'll both be better off."

"You don't get to make that call," you snapped.

Future Dean sighed and shook his head. "You'll both make your own decisions, but I just want you to have all the facts. Gear up. We move out in 20." With that he walked out the door, leaving you and your Dean alone.

"What if he's right?"

"About saying yes to Michael?" you asked in surprise.

Dean shook his head. "About it being better for you to leave."

You sighed quietly. "He's wrong...about all of it."

"I've seen what losing you did to me--to him...and I'm not sure that's something I can voluntarily experience."

You smiled. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure you never have to."

Dean returned the smile and pulled you in closely. "I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always."

**********

You were sitting in the backseat of the truck, listening to Cas tell your Dean about becoming human. It was weird for you to see Cas like this, hell he was driving. It was even harder to see how broken he had become and it only made you want to prevent this future even more.

You closed your eyes, desperate to fall asleep--to leave this fucked up, burned out world behind. You wanted to go home--to 2009. There was still time to change the future, to stop any of this from happening. You would give anything to stop it.

You must have fallen asleep because you were awoken by the gentle sound of your Dean's voice telling you it was time to wake up. You opened your eyes, surprised to see it was now light out.

"We're here, baby," he said softly.

You sighed deeply and nodded. You dragged yourself out of the truck and gathered your weapons along with the rest of the group. Your senses immediately told you something was off and one glance at your Dean told you he felt the same.

"Didn't you say this is a hot zone?" you asked Cas softly.

The former angel nodded.

"Then where are all the Croats?"

"Must be in another part of the city," he responded.

You and Dean exchanged a look, neither one of you believing his response.

Nevertheless, you followed the group, searching the rundown city for the building you were going to raid. When you found it, all of your hunter instincts screamed that something was wrong, but this time you weren't the first to voice it.

"Shouldn't there be a shit load of demons out here?" your Dean asked.

Future Dean shrugged. "They must all be inside."

His answer didn't satisfy you one bit, but you kept your mouth shut, choosing instead to observe him closely. The only person who knew Dean better than you was the man himself, which was proven moments later.

"Alright," Future Dean started. "You guys go in through the second story window. The three of us will sneak around back."

Risa looked more than a little concerned with the game plan. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

She glanced over at Cas, who clearly agreed with her worry.

"Trust me, okay? They'll never see us coming," Future Dean assured them.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" your Dean said firmly, his words more a statement than a question.

Future Dean sighed, but stepped off to the side to speak with the two of you.

"You're lying to them," your Dean said lowly. "Don't deny it--I know your lying expressions, I've seen them in the mirror."

Future Dean sighed in annoyance and your Dean threatened to tell the team about his concerns, but Future Dean stopped him.

"I know it's a trap, alright? I'm not an idiot. They'll go in the front door and create a distraction while I sneak around the back."

"You're sacrificing your team?" you asked incredulously.

"They're your friends! And Cas? Come on, man--this isn't you," your Dean added.

"My inability to make the tough decisions is what got us here in the first place. Look around you--this is the end of everything," Future Dean growled. "It's my job to kill Lucifer and save what's left of this planet, so that's what I'm going to do."

"I can't let you do that," your Dean argued.

Instead of engaging in further discussion, Future Dean jabbed the butt of his gun into your Dean's head, knocking him unconscious instantly.

"Dean!" you yelled, unsure if you were calling for yours or yelling at the Future version.

"I have to do this, (Y/N)," he said softly. "I need you to understand."

Tears welled in your eyes. "I understand why you believe that, but I don't agree. It's not who you are, Dean...the man I fell in love with would never sacrifice the people he loves--not for anything."

Future Dean looked down at the ground in silence. When he lifted his head again, his face was hard--a mask of non-emotion.

"I'm doing what needs to be done," he said firmly. "Stay with him and stay out of the way."

You wanted to reason with him, but you knew there was no point in trying. Yes, he was still Dean, but you knew you would never be able to change his mind. He'd made his choices and he'd had to live with them. Now, he was just trying to make up for all the mistakes he believed he'd made.

"Go," you whispered.

He nodded and moved back to join the others. You watched everyone but Dean head to the front of the building, a feeling of sorrow weighing on your heart.

"Dean," you called softly, prompting him to turn to look at you. "Don't die."

He gave you the smallest of smiles and nodded before running towards the back of the building.

You dropped to your knees and shook your Dean firmly. "Dean, wake up!"

After a few minutes, he groaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Fuck," he mumbled.

"Hey!" You helped him into a sitting position. "You okay?"

"My head's killing me."

"He hit you pretty hard," you said gently.

The sound of gunfire urged him to his feet. "We gotta go."

You nodded and let him grab your hand as the two of you ran to the back of the building. You arrived to a terrifying scene--Future Dean was lying on the ground and a man in a white suit stood above him, his foot firmly on Dean's neck.

Future Dean made eye contact with you seconds before his neck snapped and the life left his face.

"No!" you screamed.

Your Dean grabbed you, pulling you back to keep you from rushing forward. Watching Dean die felt like having your own heart ripped out of your chest--it was a feeling you hoped you'd never have to relive.

The man turned around in surprise and your breath caught in your chest. Objectively, you'd known it was Lucifer--you'd known he'd be in Sam's body--but there was nothing quite like seeing it in person.

Dean instinctively pushed you behind him, putting his body protectively in front of yours.

"Dean, (Y/N)," Lucifer greeted calmly. "It's a surprise to see you here--especially since I killed you three years ago and well..." he looked down at Future Dean's body with a nonchalant shrug. "It must be a shock to see your brother like this."

"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Dean asked angrily.

"Well that would be redundant. I'll kill your lovely wife three years before I kill you," he said simply. "We will always end up here, Dean. This is the way our story ends."

"Deep-frying the planet and murdering billions of people? What a shitty story," Dean snapped.

Lucifer started to rant about loving God too much and being punished for it...but you'd stopped listening. You could feel the pain rolling off your sweet Dean in waves. You knew what he was thinking--he'd failed his brother and in doing so, destroyed the world.

"I'm not falling for that sympathy-for-the-devil crap!" Dean yelled, pulling you back to the present. "The only difference between you and the monsters I've hunted my whole life is the size of your ego."

If the situation had been different, you probably would have laughed. Dean's fearlessness was something you both loved and admired about him. What's more, you agreed with his sentiment.

Lucifer simply smiled. "I like you, Dean. I can see what the other angels see in you." His gaze landed on you and you felt the rage boiling under your skin. "No hard feelings, (Y/N). Your death was a means to an end--it broke what little humanity your precious Dean had left in him. It's what led us to this moment."

Lucifer turned to walk away, but Dean called after him. "You better kill me now or I won't stop until I find a way to kill you."

Lucifer's smile was cruel. "I know you'll try Dean, but I also know you'll never say 'yes' to Michael, and you'll never kill Sam. No matter what choices you make or details you change, your wife will die in 2011 and you and I will always end up right here."

"You're wrong," Dean whispered, eyes filling with pained tears.

You touched his arm gently, reminding him he wasn't alone. He leaned into your touch, but remained steadfastly in front of you--guarding you with every ounce of strength he had.

"I'll see you in two years, (Y/N)," Lucifer said with a condescending smile. "And I'll see you in five, Dean."

Before either of you could say a word, Lucifer vanished, leaving the two of you alone.

"Dean..." you whispered softly.

He turned to you, his expression full of agony. You reached for him just as Zachariah appeared and placed a hand against each of your foreheads, zapping you back to the hotel room in Kansas City, circa 2009.

Both of you turned to face the offending angel, anger your primary emotion in the moment.

"Now you know what's going to happen," Zachariah said, cutting off any rant either of you could start. "Your only option is to say 'yes' to Michael, otherwise billions of people are going to die."

"How do we know that wasn't just another one of your tricks?" you snapped.

"The time for tricks is over," Zachariah stated. "Saying 'yes' to Michael is the only way you can save the world--save (Y/N)--save your brother.

Dean turned to you, his face full of anguish. It made your heart clench in your chest and you worried for a moment he'd changed his mind.

"Nah," Dean said to Zachariah, jaw set in a firm line.

You smirked a little, watching Zachariah's facial expression turn to shock.

"Are you telling me you haven't learned your lesson?"

"Oh I learned my lesson," Dean countered. "Just not the one you wanted to teach me."

Zachariah stepped towards Dean menacingly. You instinctively stepped forward, more than willing to fight the angel to protect the man you loved. Dean placed a gentle hand on yours to let you know he wasn't scared.

"I have you exactly where I want you," Zachariah began. "I'm going to teach both of you a lesson until you get it through your thick skulls. Neither of you are going anywhere until you say 'yes'."

Dean's grip on your hand tightened and his mouth opened to give some sort of retort when you suddenly found yourself standing on the side of a highway. Dean's hand was still wrapped tightly around yours and a slightly confused Castiel stood a few feet in front of you.

"Excellent timing, Cas," Dean said in relief.

"We had an appointment," Cas stated matter-of-factly.

You chuckled softly and stepped forward to wrap the angel in a hug. He was slightly surprised by your actions, but he didn't pull away.

Dean placed a firm hand on Castiel's shoulder and offered him another smile. "Don't ever change."

You and Dean launched into the story of the last few days for you, and Castiel listened quietly.

"How did Zachariah find you?"

"Long story," Dean muttered. "But let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses in the future."

You chuckled again and rolled your eyes affectionately.

Dean pulled out his phone and started to dial a number.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked.

"Something I should have done in the first place."

You smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing...and who he was calling. You were proud of him and you voiced the sentiment as soon as you were alone.

"Thanks, babe. Turns out you were right all along."

You grinned. "I'm always right."

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Alright sweetheart, calm down." His voice was light and teasing and it warmed you straight down to your soul.

"I love you, you dork."

He smiled and squeezed your hand. "I love you too."

You were both quiet for several minutes, just watching the road as Dean sped towards your next destination.

"It's still the apocalypse," Dean said suddenly.

"Mhmm," you hummed quietly.

"So you know...the world might still end."

"Hopefully not."

"Agreed, but I'm thinking maybe we should get married."

"What?" you said in shock.

Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying...you're my everything and I want everyone to know you're mine. Besides, if this world really does end, there's no one I wanna be with but you."

"You know, normally the guy gets down on one knee."

Dean chuckled. "I can do that as soon as I stop the car."

You laughed. "Typically there's a ring too."

He grinned. "Don't worry baby--I'll buy you a big diamond ring."

You smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. "I don't really need a ring, Dean--and I don't need you to get down on one knee. If you're serious about it, then hell yeah--let's get married."

Dean looked at you hopefully. "I'm dead serious, babe."

You touched his cheek with a smile. "Then let's get married."

He looked at the straight stretch of road ahead, not a car in sight. He leaned over and kissed you quickly, the affectionate gesture expressing his emotions better than any words he could have said.

When he pulled back to face the road, you leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. Your voice was low as you said the words that had become a mantra in your relationship, "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."

His smile warmed your entire body--inside and out. It had been weird hearing Future Dean call you his wife...but your Dean proposing to you now, it just felt right.

You rode the rest of the way in a happier mood than you'd felt in a long time. Dean's mood was lighter too, but you both knew it wouldn't last. There was still a lot of darkness to come, but you were both determined to make sure there were happy moments. After all, love was one of the things that made life worth living.

A short time later, you sat on the trunk of the Impala, watching the man you loved apologize to his brother. You smiled warmly as you watched them, overjoyed at the steps they were both taking to make amends.

Dean turned towards you and waved you over. You hopped down and crossed the short distance, passing Dean to wrap Sam in a tight hug. The much larger man returned the gesture, the tension easing from his body.

"Glad to have you back, Sammy," you said as you stepped back.

"Thanks, (Y/N/N)."

"We're getting married," Dean said suddenly.

Sam's eyes widened in shock and you nearly laughed at Dean's sudden admission.

"End of the world and all that," Dean said sheepishly.

You chuckled and Sam expressed his congratulations.

"No matter what happens," you said softly. "We have each other--all three of us."

Both Winchesters nodded their agreement and Dean slipped his arm around you to pull you close.

"To hell with fate," Dean stated. "From now on, we make our own future."

You leaned into him with a smile, appreciating the sentiment more than you would have just a few days prior. At the end of the day, all you had was each other and the love that bonded all of you together. None of you knew exactly what the future held, but you'd be damned if you didn't fight for a future worth living for.

#supernatural #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #supernatural smut

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sunderwight · 24 days

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Much as I love the idea of PIDW being rife with terrible porn tropes and interesting (if contrived) erotic writing conventions, all actual evidence in canon would seem to indicate that apart from some sex pollen and "uh oh, the protagonist has gone into a fugue state, whatever shall calm him down?" type stuff, it was fairly vanilla.

Like, that's part of both Shen Yuan and Airplane's frustration with it, I think. It's full of sex and it's not even sex either of them enjoy the concept of. Airplane was fully just trying to pander to an audience he felt he knew and could manipulate, but not one either he nor his ultra mega hate reader were actually part of.

Not that they understood that themselves at the time.

I mean I know fandom likes to make Airplane less closeted than Shen Yuan (for a lot of reasons), which I support, but I feel like in canon at least... he didn't cotton on to Luo Binghe's change in interests at first either. It wasn't until he was watching his protagonist obsess over resurrecting Shen Qingqiu at any cost that the light started to dawn. For Shang Qinghua, also, many more years have passed since he was back in their original world. He's had more time to reconcile himself to certain ideas.

What glimpses we get of the person he was before he died, was reborn, and lived a whole other life well into adulthood, would seem to indicate that he probably wasn't much better than Shen Yuan back when he was writing.

I mean he probably was still BETTER (the bar is on the floor), like I bet he could have a fantasy featuring Mobei Jun without having an existential crisis or pretending it didn't happen, but he would have probably been like "wow I guess I've been writing so much m/f porn that I can't even enjoy it anymore and my brain had to come up with something else, anyway Mobei would make a hot chick tho, I'm gonna write one of his cousins as Binghe's next wife" and gotten on with things.

Basically I guess what I'm driving at is that it would be funny if SQQ and SQH figured they had a solid handle on the kinds of sex pollen-y porn tropes to expect from the world (mostly just the occasional fuck-or-die that missionary can cure), only for the rug to get ripped out from under them because the system incorporated a bunch of stuff from Airplane's subconscious to fill out the gaps. Not even his notes. His daydreams and fantasies.

SQQ: what the hell?! PIDW didn't even have werewolves or tentacle porn monsters!

SQH, suddenly reminded of some very specific fap sessions: right?! this is definitely weird and in no way my fault! it must be because of the genre switch!

SQQ: *suspicious*

SQH: which is your fault! you made the protagonist gay! in fact it's probably your fault that I'm gay too now!

SQQ: bullshit. what did you do. was this in a draft?!

SQH: *sweating* I can say with absolute confidence that it was not! I never wrote anything like this!

SQQ: *having a crisis now because maybe he DID accidentally cause the monsterfucker stuff and he desperately doesn't want anyone to realize that he's actually into it*

SQH: *continuing to sweat because the world is consistently manifesting content from his personal spank bank and if cucumber ever figures that out he's a dead man*

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain

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recluselecter · 2 months

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Jealousy

Leto Atreides x Ex-Wife! Reader

pairings: Leto Atreides x Ex-wife! Reader summery: When y/n spends the night of Leto's inauguration party with another man, he can't help dragging her away. warnings: uses she:her pronouns, mother! reader, jealous Leto, possessive Leto, Non-canon compliant, choking, breeding, cunnilingus mention, voyeuristic if you squint REAL hard. Words: 1.7k

Y/n’s hips were guided grotesquely against a stranger's crotch, drunken babbling tumbling from his lips. The wine in her glass had been spilt and emptied long ago, the red liquid having stained her dress. She didn’t care. She kept her eyes on the new Emperor, hair perfectly styled, beard immaculately trimmed, suit crisp and void of Arrakkis’ sand. She hadn’t seen him since they lived there. After Paul gained the title of Emperor for his father, Leto disappeared, taking Paul and their daughter. This was six months ago. As his coffee eyes burned into her skin, she thought of how he’d avoided seeing her as much as possible, passing their child to her through servants. Now though, he couldn’t avoid her. And it was killing him. She looked perfect, the stain on her dress adding to the gorgeous mess that was Y/n.

Leto Atreides hated her for it.

He stormed up to her, snatching her arm and pulling her away from the stranger.

“What the fuck, Leto!” She yelled over the hustle and bustle of the inauguration party. Leto dragged her through the halls of his new palace, opened a door, and shoved her in. When Y/n observed the room around her, she realized it was a very fancy bathroom.

Y/n glared at Leto. The wine on her dress was her fourth glass, and, gauging by the way she was swaying, she was wasted. Leto looked down at her as rage rose in both of their chests.

“You need to go home,” he stated.

“Why do you care what I do?” She snapped.

“I care that my ex-wife is fucked up in a ballroom of a house that isn’t hers.” The Duke took a dangerous step toward her, his own drink spurring him on. “I care that the bitch I’m forced to call the mother of my child is grinding on random men.”

“Oh my god!” She laughed. “I only call you when it’s late, Duke Atreides. You think I give two shits about your jealousy?” Her words struck a nerve in him as she slurred them out. “I only care about you when you’re fucking my brains out.”

He snapped. Leto’s hands slammed against the counter, his body shoving hers against the extravagant sink. She gasped, legs automatically falling open around him. He loomed over her, rage seething through him. His knuckles were white from his grip on the sink, barely holding himself together. He thought the expensive porcelain would crack under his palms as he leaned closer to his ex-wife. With inches between them, he knew she’d try to kiss him. His plan was dependent on it. Like clockwork, she angled her head up, her lips grazing his before his hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her back. She huffed as he scowled at her, but it was turned into a yelp when he forced her to turn around, bending her over the sink by her neck. He tilted his head at her in the mirror where she glared at him. He didn’t break eye contact as he hiked up her skirt, baring her panties to him. The red fabric matched her dress and her now blushing cheeks.

Leto’s hands snaked around her hips, pulling her back against his clothed erection. She hummed lightly as her hips rolled against him, pulling a small groan from his throat. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear as he tore her panties. “You’re a little slut, you know that?” He leaned back again, nearly salivating at the sight of her bare before him. “No better than a cheap whore.” Her cunt was glistening and had Leto resisting the urge to kneel before her and devour her. His mouth watered for the taste of her, having laid between her legs until the hot Arrakkis sun rose in the sky many times. That was long ago, before he was Emperor. Before he divorced her. For a man who prided himself on his independence as Emperor, he knelt quite often for the woman who vexed him.

She writhed against the sink as he let his fingertips trail lightly around her thighs, avoiding the place she actually wanted him. He pinned her legs to the porcelain, stopping all movement while he teased her. He leaned forward once more, growling in her ear. “You want this?” He let his middle finger enter her just a little, making her cry out in her desperate haze. Y/n nodded vigorously, and for once, Leto complied. He shoved one finger inside her to the knuckle, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. A curse slipped from his tongue, already weak at the knees. Leto Atreides was–and had been for years–wrapped around her finger. Should she ask him to kneel, he would kneel. He desperately hid it from her, but he knew deep inside just how far his devotion went. If she told him to take a knife to the throat, he would enthusiastically if it meant pleasing her.

Leto moved quickly, adding another right before he knew she’d be ready. After decades of bedding her, he knew her body like his own, and her squeak made him twitch in his trousers. He pumped his fingers into her pussy at a cruel pace, too fast to ignore the pleasure, but too slow to get off. She whimpered and cried under him like a pathetic little kitten, palming at his forearms to get him to stop. He bit her neck as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt. He ripped it from his trousers and unbuttoned the damned pants. Y/n started to protest when his fingers slipped from her wet cunt, but went silent quickly when she looked in the mirror to find him indulging himself, his fingers in his mouth. As he tasted her, he slid his boxers down his hips. She watched hungrily as more of his body was revealed to her. His cock sprung free proudly, and she found herself staring. He grabbed himself, moaning when he slid his hand from the tip to the base, the way she did when she used to pleasure him. His wrist twisted just once before he slid back down to the base, teeth grit as he watched his ex-wife in the mirror. For a moment both were mesmerized by the other. The Emperor found himself admiring her skin and her eyes before he snapped out of it, anger coming back.

She seemed to have the same epiphany as he lined himself up with her. He slid into her easily, and she tightened around him as he entered. He fell forward, holding himself up over her shaking body. He cussed as he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming himself back in. Y/n cried out under him as he set a brutal pace, one hand slipping to her hip.

“Fuck-!” She whined, pressing her face to the counter to cool it.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.” he gritted out. She obeyed, hands slamming against the mirror and providing more stability to the pair.

A knock hit the door, making Y/n jump. She began to stand up, but Leto shoved her back down by the back of her neck, boot slamming against the door to stop it from opening. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” He snarled. His hips didn’t stop thrusting relentlessly into her as the intruder spoke through the door.

“Emperor Atreides, you must give your speech!”

Leto ignored him, speeding up. Y/n shrieked, legs shaking as he fucked her. His hand slipped to her thigh, forcing it up on the counter and allowing him deeper. He braced himself over her, moaning into her shoulder.

“Show me how much you missed me, baby.” He grunted. She whined under him, brain not working properly. “Do I need to tell you what you already know?” he demanded breathlessly. Y/n gasped as Leto’s hand buried in her hair, yanking her up against his body with his arm around her throat. The mirror loomed in front of her. Leto studied her tear-stained face, her mascara running as he refused to stop moving. She watched his cock disappear into her weeping pussy, her face bright red. “Look how good you take it.” He groaned, watching as his cock reappeared each time, shining with her arousal. Lewd noises filled the bathroom as he ravaged her, as he claimed her.“You’re mine, remember?” he spoke, his voice low and rough in her ear. “This body is mine. This cunt is mine.” Y/n nodded, hands clinging to his arm. “Other men don’t get the privilege of what is mine.” She gasped as his arm tightened around her throat, just barely choking her.

“Yours.” She moaned out. Leto fought the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. He groaned as his stomach tensed, his orgasm coming fast. Y/n clung to him as she came, crying out his name.

“That’s it, darling. Come on, let it out.” He grunted, arm moving from her throat to her waist to hold her up when her legs gave out. Her eyes rolled back, brain numb from the wine and his cock. Seeing her stupid made him snap, moaning as he came deep inside her. She whimpered in his arms, shaking. He rode out his high, groaning into her neck until he came down. He let her down slowly, letting her brace herself on the sink before pulling himself out of her.

He didn’t bother tucking himself away, not until he watched his cum seep from her pussy. As it did, he ran his fingers through it, scooping it back into her and shoving his fingers as deep as they’d go. She cried out, oversensitive. Leto hushed her, running his hand over her back and kissing her cheek.

“I know, my love,” He hummed, still fingering his cum back inside her. “But you know the rules.” Y/n nodded, gaining some feeling back in her legs as he slid his fingers from her. He licked each one individually, savoring the taste of the pair mixed together. His tongue slid over his own skin meticulously as he used his other hand to tuck himself away, refastening his belt.

Leto looked for Y/n’s panties, but only found the scrap of what he’d ruined. Shit. They were going to have to do a raincheck on the inauguration speech. Especially with her current state. Leto gently lifted her into his arms after pulling her dress over her. His past lover automatically snuggled into his neck, arms around him. Emperor Atreides smiled as he planned their escape.

#leto atreides #dune #dune part 2 #atreides #paul atreides #leto atreides smut #oscar isaac #leto atreides x reader #house of atreides #dune movie

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dannyphantomr0ck5 · 3 months

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Creep Vlad Masters/Misunderstandings Prompt{DpxDc}

so y’all prolly don’t know this but I LOVE the misunderstandings trope with Vlad and Danny, but I usually like to turn the dial a bit from ‘old man just wants a kid to be his son’ to ‘creepy old man wants a son so bad he has children with ANOTHER child’ BOTH sound horrid, correct? WELL that’s because that’s BASICALLY how it is in the show. And well I’m OFF A BIT but Vlad in the cartoon is a fruit loop with wayyyy too much money and uses it to get CLOSER to a boy WHO he shouldn’t be!!! AND if I’m correct(can’t remember if this is canon or fanon) Vlad has planted BUGS IN EVERY ROOM IN DANNY’S HOUSE?!??! WTH VLAD??? MIX WITH DANTE/DAN AND ELLIE/DANIELLE BEING HIS CHILDREN AND TRANS DANNY?!??! YES PLS!!!

HERES THE PROMPT;

Damian has known the strange new student for roughly five days two minutes and…He looked at his watch…Six seconds. He totally is not counting because he likes the boy. No. In fact he couldn’t care less about Daniel! “Hi Dami!” GOD Damian HATED that smile! It made his stomach hurt and his face feel hot….DANIEL MUST BE POISONING HIM!!! OF COURSE! Why didn’t he think of that?! The boy must be poisoning his for his own nefarious agenda!!! He shall pay…Right after he says hi…

“Hello Daniel, we have a class project together. Your house,” he demanded. He HAD to know how and why Daniel was poisoning him. What if Daniel had done that to others?!??

—Fast forward to going to Danny’s house—

As they worked in the slightly messy living room, a baby cried out inside the house leaving Damian as Danny pounced up and almost slammed into almost every object he owned as he rushed down the apartment and into a room, Damian soon after. Inside the starry painted room was Daniel holding two children who looked like twins. They both had pitch black hair(same as Daniel’s…) and blue blue blue so blue eyes…Which matched Daniel’s eyes so…So..Perfectly…

“Daniel?” He was suspicious.

“yea…?” He sounded slightly upset, not at the children or Damian but more at the situation.

“You have siblings…?”

“Children.”

“What?”

“They’re my kids; Dante and Ellie…”

“What.”

“I had them at-“ he started to share before Damian put a hand up and silenced the boy.

“How old are YOU Daniel?”

He winced,” please don’t call me Daniel,” he whispered what sounded like ‘only he calls me that’ and continued,” I’m fifteen.” That was adequate, Damian himself was fourteen.

“When..?”

“When I had them?” Damian nodded,” twelve…”

that was when Damian decided this boy is now under his protection, he declared as such to Daniel only for the boy’s pale skin flush with a pink red of blood.

-End of Prompt…-

#damian wayne #damian wayne x danny fenton #danny x damian #dp x dc #dc x dp prompt #Open use just credit me pls

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angel-eyes05 · 11 months

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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 3)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: a fight you've been waiting for arises in front of you, but can you keep your guard up long enough to reunite with your teammates again?

warnings: ANGSTY (the next chapter is smut i promise), HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries, this is so against canon its insane

word count: 1.8k

notes: ok ok i promise that the next chapter will have smut in it, i just wanted to do some enemies to lovers before we got to that point so thanks for sticking around during the past two chapters i know its not easy lmao. you guys will be rewarded well though, trust trust😌 😌 😌

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Bright ruby liquid dripped from your tricep as Miguel’s claws ripped through the fibers of your suit, slamming you into the cement floor. Any false confidence you went into this battle with quickly disappeared when each futile attempt to get Miguel off his feet failed. You’re not sure how long you’ve been stalling him, but it felt like hours. You were still putting up a fight though, managing to bruise one of his cheekbones that you used to love so much. But compared to the state you were currently in, it didn’t exactly mean much. You were bleeding from all sorts of places. The most noticeable places were where his claws has dug into you, first your thigh, now your tricep. At this point in the fight, you were just focused on defending yourself.

Images of your favorite moments with him flashed inside your eyes in between his strikes at your face. How gently he would hold you, the way he would whisper your name sometimes and moan it others. How nervous he would get if you took longer than usual to come back from a mission. But even with his mask on, you could see it in his face that that was all gone now. Any ounce of love he had for you was whisked away with you when you walked into that elevator away from him. Just like you, feelings of betrayment flooded his brain, making him lose all sense judgment as he sliced his claws across your stomach. He didn’t feel anything for you anymore. Which only made it easier for you to harm him.

He had you pinned to the floor below him, no escape in sight other than you to physically push him off of you, which didn’t seem like very much of an option considering his size and weight. Plus, he had your hand pinned down with his knees. He had taken a break from punching you to catch his breath, heaving hot pants into your face below him. His mask faded off in order to let him breathe better.

Your struggle out had suddenly paused.

Then you saw it. His mask had been hiding it from you before.

His eyes were red. And not his iris’ natural crimson glow. The pure white sclera of his eye had been stained with red. Had he been…crying? You felt your heart drop into your stomach. He had. A lot. You felt so guilty, knowing it was most likely you who caused this. You managed to slip your arm out from under his knee, but instead of using it to pushed him off, you placed it gently on the side of his cheek, brushing your finger over the horrible bruise you put there, blemishing his perfect skin.

His only movements from then on out were slight flinches from when your thumb would press too hard on the bruise. You wanted to badly to leave this all behind. To just go back home with him. To crawl into bed with him and pretend none of this ever happened. You wanted to embrace him again after all this time, you wanted to place your lips onto his again and remind him of your love. Both of you had been so full of hate the past few months. You needed to love again. You wanted to love again.

But you couldn’t. Not right now. And not in good conscious. To let go of this now would be to let go of everything you stood for. You couldn’t go back with him. Not like this. So while it was your heart that screamed out for him, it was your head that acted next as you grabbed his arm with your free hand and ripped his claws through his stomach. As he growled out in pain, he leaned over to his left side more, giving you your way out. You jumped to your feet and raced for the whole in the wall. You made it out, but not before Miguel made his final attempt to grab you.

He fell down in pain before you were in his clutch, but his reach out for you caused four large gashes to form into your back. You yelped out in agony as you felt his claws ripped through the fabrics of your skin. You kept running though, refusing to look back to see if he was following you. You prepped up the portal on your watch, sending out the Earth you were jumping to to the rest of your teammates. You had zero idea where they were or if they were okay, but your one concern right now was getting away from Miguel. Your back shot pain through your entire body with every step you took, but you had to ignore that right now. You had bigger matters at hand. For example, the growing sound of footsteps behind you.

Fuck, he was up again already? This was bad. Your allies were all missing, the portal wasn’t ready yet, and you could feel your consciousness leaving your body as pain overtook your mind. You had to keep running, but each step was sloppier than the last. God fuck, you couldn’t get caught now. He was close you could feel it. You looked at your watch with fuzzy vision, basically praying for it to work at this point. You tried to run faster, but that proved to be a fatal mistake. Panic zoomed through your body as you felt yourself trip over your own feet.

You looked behind your back mid fall to find a demonic sight, Miguel bounding towards you on all fours at full speed, a trail of blood leaking behind him. Just as you thought it was over for you, your savior appeared. A bright neon orange portal. You attempted to get back onto your feet to make it through, nearly scrambling, but it was no use. Every movement was more painful than the last, the lacerations on your back reminding your body of all your other injuries, all of them coming to life suddenly at once. This was it. You lost. Sorry Miles, you thought to yourself, I really did try. But you’re going to have to fight this battle without me.

You weren’t sure if the pain was making you hallucinate, but you could’ve sworn that you saw Hobie jumping into the air behind Miguel, and slamming his guitar into his face. Miguel was knocked off of his fours and onto his back, tumbling away into a building to your right. Your vision was confirmed when you felt Pavitr’s and Gwen’s hands latch onto your arms and drag you into the portal, Peter B. and the rest of the team behind them. The last thing you saw before fully passing out was Miguel’s limp body laying against the brick wall as you floated through the portal into whatever Earth you would crash into next.

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The sky grew a dark gray as your team gathered in a dark alley in whatever Earth you landed in this time. Peter B. had you in his own separate corner, Gwen taking care of Mayday as he stitched up your gashes with some spare thread Margo bought at the drugstore. Your tricep and and thigh were painful, but over faster than expected. Now he was on to your back. And fuck did it suck. Being the deepest of all three attacks, it was still bleeding while Peter was stitching it up, causing the thread to get stuck to your skin at some parts. You bit at your tongue through the pain, while Pavitr asked and answered questions to keep you distracted. “What happened?” he asked first. “Got..ambushed. Fought Miggy- Miguel I mean. Managed to hit him….before he tore my back..o-open. Yo-u guys s-saved me. Now w-we’re…where are we?” you said, gritting through your teeth. “Earth-42,” Margo stated, looking at the slightly orange glow on her wrist. You nodded slightly, but winced once Peter accidentally got the thread stuck on dried blood, and started yanking at it.

“Jesus Peter, have you never done this before?! Mayday could do a better job than this!” you yelled at him. You got a slight giggle out of the baby, as Gwen placed her in your lap to distract you.

“Who are you with right now?” Pavitr asked, pulling your attention away from your wounds again. “Uhh, Pavitr, Mayday, Peter B., Gwen, Hobie, Ham, Noir, Margo, and Peni,” you answered, playing with Mayday’s hands. “How are you feeling?” he asked next. “Other than the growing urge to punch Peter B. in the face-” “I’m doing my best here!” he shouted from behind you, getting a chuckle out of you. “I feel fine.”

You felt everyone’s eyes glue onto you. You stared back confused for a second. “....What, I do.” You were the only one severely injured out of the whole group, the rest of them making it out with scratches at the worst. Meanwhile you were sitting there, blood leaking out of nearly every crevice of your body and bruises quickly forming around your face. They had a right to not believe you. Because they were right. You weren’t okay. You felt a new emotion towards Miguel that you hadn’t felt towards him before. You were terrified of him. Watching him pounce towards you like a coyote hunting its prey. You now understood how all of his enemies felt towards him. Because you were one of them now.

You felt stupid for thinking you could beat him, much more kill him. Stupid for thinking for some reason he would go easy on you. You saw how he acted towards you. He pounded his fists into your body as if you single handedly killed his whole family. He didn’t care for you anymore. But then you remembered. How his eyes were for that split second you saw them. Why was he crying? Was it stress? Was it joy that he was about to finish his mission? Or…was it you? It felt self centered to think that was the reason. That he had been crying over the fact he lost you. You could imagine it now. Miguel sitting lonelily in front of all his monitors and scanners looking for you, ashamed in himself for letting you go as easily as he did. You dragged yourself out of that thought fast, convincing yourself that thats not what you were to him. You were just a pawn in his game. And you were done playing.

Pavitr decided to not push the question anymore and began to talk to you about other stuff until Peter finished up with your back. You stood up, ignoring the ache in your back, to peek out of the alley and into the city. Everyone’s attention turned to Margo’s wrist as it blinked a light orange. When her eyes lit up, you knew it had to be good news.

“Miles.” she said. “He’s here.”

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: OK OK NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST ONE AND EVERYTHING WILL BE WRAPPING UP THERE I PROMISE (there'll be smut too dw dw🤭🤭🤭). i also have a new idea for a miguel fic so ill be getting started on that after i finish with chapter 4 (it'll be oc x miguel cause i wanna get my character writing out there, but dw you can imagine youre her lmao). so be on the lookout for that whenever it drops, id appreciate the continued support!!!!

taglist: @sunfairyy @ladespedidas @jenniferdixon05207 @chalametet @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @trying-2bcool @deputy-videogamer @chatoicboy @cookielovesbook-akie @impettywhenyouare @unnamedgayperson @sin4tra @twentysomethingwereyote @cherrymanhuas @sagejin @isaidoop @hysteriaabsd @autismsupermusicalassassin @persimmoned-fig @dcsuperheros @amodernarrietty @konniebon @barbi-e7 @venus1224idkpleaze @almondlocust @babybella777 @urmomcomsiimiamour @96jnie @cryptidwlw69 @mirrorball-6 @whosace16 @wolfiepirate @gobblegluckgluckgod @keenzinemugstudent @bitchotine @leopandabearsblog @blumin8 @malynn @mearss @yu-rylee @myhomethesea @ashjbu @skcj24 @joanne-uwu @y2ksitgirl @inosukesweirdwife @a-simp-20 @shibble @euphoricfics @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @thegroupsdeaddog @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @xiangping-28 @steveoscousin @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @shylonelyleaf @babyspice6 @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #fanfic #fanfiction #fem!reader #spiderverse 2

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ichigo-dream · 11 months

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Leon Kennedy - Eating Headcannons (SFW + NSFW)

Dream and I were having a drinks sesh cause the weather is good with us atm, and we ended up having a full discussion about Leon and eating. We were discussing the criteria to qualify as what we have coined a “neo fem-boy”, and how Leon has a lilll bit of squish to him despite the muscle - cause baby boy likes to EAT (both figuratively and metaphorically). Leon canonically put on 40 lbs of pure muscle between RE 2 and RE 4, yet he still somehow looks a lil bit soft and squishy soooooo we had to write this shit down.

Basically we just wanna eat up soft Leon, enjoy~

SFW

It's established canon that this man wants dinner all the time (see Leon in Infinite Darkness and Damnation)

This boy is hobbit-coded - baby boy needs at least three square meals a day - we’re talking full fry up in the morning, actual lunch and a spread for dinner. Might even squeeze in brunch and supper while he’s at it.

Snack, snacks, snacks - always snacking on something.

Having low blood sugar and being in a relationship with Leon is a match made in Heaven.

Lil baby has a sweet tooth

His jacket and coat pockets will always have some form of sweet in them - gum, lollipops, hard boiled sweets, Tiic Tacs, jawbreakers,

Any time you’re in the car together or watching a film, you can hear the hard sugar shell clacking against his teeth.

Will hide food, and eat in bed - you get into bed after a long day and when your head hits the pillow, you’ll hear a plastic rustle. Reaching under you’ll find a half-eaten packet of cookies or biscuits he’d been snacking on earlier that he had shoved under your pillow.

Will finish your food for you

Birthdays are his fav - any excuse to have cake this boy will use it - will eat any kind, but boy is a slut for vanilla cake and strawberry jam filling - you will often have to wipe the cream and jam from the corners of his mouth.

Will fuck up a strawberry sundae especially in the summer time.

Speaking of summer, it’s one of his favourite seasons

Loves to eat outside in the sunshine when it’s hot and balmy

Perfect weather for ice cream or milkshakes – and he won’t waste a single drop. If he notices some trickling down the cool glass in his hands, he’ll lick it up, completely oblivious to how the small action makes you blush.

You’ll often catch him eating his cereal standing up, watching TV or nosying at the neighbours having an argument in the streets below, still in his pyjama bottoms.

Loves milkshake straws - has a collection of different flavours - though, when he doesn’t use a straw, he is always oblivious to the cute lil milkstache.

Will squirt cream straight into his mouth in front of the fridge.

Weddings, and other events are the worst for him, as whilst he loves desserts, they rarely serve his favourites.

“I fucking hate pavlova” he grumbles, proceeding to eat it anyway, just to get his sugar fix.

Loves fruit - will eat raspberries one by one off the tips of his fingers.

You’ll catch him eating ice cream sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge in the middle of the night, sucking on his spoon and looking at you like a deer in headlights when he sees you standing there watching him.

Will get cranky if he doesn’t get to eat - hangry vibes

If he wakes up late, he will refuse to leave without breakfast - this boy will run out the door with a piece of toast in his mouth like an anime school girl.

His RPD uniform has lots of “fancy pockets” and what are they good for? Emergency snack storage - nuts, sweets, biscuits, dried fruit.

For his birthday, you buy him candy bracelets - heart eyes for days - and he sits and absent-mindedly sucks on them at his desk at work, thinking of you.

NSFW

As a birthday present, you wear a candy necklace during sex and Leon attacks your neck, sucking and biting at it whilst he fucks you.

Due to his habits, he always tastes sweet - all of him tastes sweet if you catch our drift (ya, his cum)

Whilst he’s squirting cream into his mouth, if you happen to be walking past and notice some of it lingering on the corners of his mouth and decide to lick it off, baby boy will forget everything he’s doing and fuck you over the kitchen table.

Speaking of cream - will use it on you when he fucks you, kitten-licking the sweet dollops off your warm skin (tits, collarbones, stomach - he's gonna eat you up)

If you’re curious about something he’s eating and want to taste some, he’ll kiss you in lieu of sharing (Leon is only possessive over two things - you and food).

Big into gum sharing - will use it as an excuse to start making out with you.

If things get a little messy when you’re eating cake, he will lick your hands clean if he’s in the mood.

Leon is a munch in more ways than one.

This boy will eat you out of house and home, including your pussy.

Could eat three square meals a day and will still go down on you like he’s starving.

Kitchen? Bedroom? Sofa? Standing up? Doesn’t matter - man’s is ready to munch anytime anywhere.

Whilst he’s eating you out, he’ll rut his hips against the bed - the sugar rush means he is always full of energy and ready to go at all times.

Will suck on your clit like it's a gobstopper.

Gets bratty when he hasn’t had a snack - but, it just so happens that he considers you to be the sweetest one.

Be prepared to be fucked within an inch of your life when he gets like this - or for him to eat you out until you can’t walk (will bring you a snack afterwards ofc).

This man gained 40lbs of muscle— but like we said, baby boy is still soft

Leon puts you in a headlock whilst he fucks you and his biceps have a nice lil bit of squish which you relish in when he chokes you.

His ass jiggles - when he’s lying stomach down on bed, you love slapping it when you walk past and watching it jiggle like jelly - this action without fail will make him blush and whine “Stop!” every time.

You like to bite him

He’s too cute and squishy to resist honestly

Playfully nibbling his plump lil cheek

Biting his thick arms

When you’re riding him and can’t resist playfully kneading his tits like a kitten, and it makes him grab your wrists and fuck into you harder - he’ll later claim that him turning red from his cheeks to his chest was from exertion and not embarrassment.

He is the comfiest place to lie on when you’re fucked out and riding the waves of post-orgasmic bliss.

If you made it this far, comment “Bingo!”

Thank you for reading!

Love,

Ichigo and Dream xoxo

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy headcannons

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goldyeokki · 11 months

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𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓: lee donghyuck, huang renjun, mark lee, osaki shotaro, jung sungchan, uchinaga eri (giselle), ning yi zhuo (ningning)

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐒: pure crack, a pinch of angst, fluff, smut ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 35.5k (i'm so sorry) ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: [NOT 100% PROOFREAD] social media elements; uni au; enemies to lovers; lots of plot before the porn; semi-slow burn; lots of flashbacks in first half; reader is in denial half the damn time; hyuck is a self-sacrificial idiot; love triangle (?); renhyuck crumbs; sungtaro forever neos; mc is emotionally constipated; mc wears a skirt and makeup; mc is canon attracted to both men and women; bad ex!song mingi; consumption of alcohol; mentions of weed and vapes / unprotected sex; big dick!hyuck; brief mean dom!hyuck; praise; possessiveness; choking; edging; overstimulation; clit spanking; multiple orgasms; mating press; if i missed out any i apologise

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝐇𝐔𝐀'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: the first installation of before the last flower blooms is finally out! happy belated birthday to our fullsun hyuck, and i hope everyone enjoys this fic as much as i did when i wrote it (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) a lot of blood, sweat and tears were put into this i think i lost a bit of my sanity ngl

have you ever taken a look at someone and been filled with a compelling urge to shove their smug face into a hot, steaming pile of crap?

that’s how you feel whenever lee donghyuck breathes in your direction.

you would think that being in a big friend group would discourage any feelings of animosity between one another. unfortunately, that is not the case for you and someone whom you want to call your mortal enemy. but it would be a stretch to say that. you have a rather complex relationship with donghyuck.

for the longest time, you’ve both hated each other’s guts yet due to your shared friend group, you’ve learned to tolerate each other and be civil when the time calls for it. sometimes you’re both as thick as thieves, being the culprits for harmless little pranks that your friends often become the unwilling victims of. he is a notorious flirt who can and will flirt with anything that breathes. your friend group (especially renjun and mark) are victims too but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to say to make your heart skip a beat or render you speechless. you’re convinced that he’s doing it to toy around with you because you’ve never seen him in a relationship, be it casual or serious, for as long as you’ve known him.

but when it’s just the both of you, there are moments when he’ll strip away that obnoxious—dare you say, façade—and you can simply exist. he won’t pick on you like he usually would. sometimes even in the presence of other people, he’ll still actively look out for you. if you could describe his behaviour around you in one word, it’ll be confusing. he edges you and drags you around with a ribbon you don’t recall him ever tying on you and it gets so frustrating when he gets the last laugh.

he’s a massive pain in the ass for sure but there is one thing that you can admit: he doesn’t strike you to be the kind of person who would be malicious to others without reason. you just hate personalities like him.

he’s always strutting around like a proud peacock, acting like he knows something nobody else in the room does. he always finds a way to get under your skin—be it sidling up to you and telling you stupid things with your friend group around or teasing you when it’s just the both of you—but you’d rather be buried six feet under than admit your life would be less entertaining without him around.

you don’t know why lee donghyuck hates you, but of all the reasons that you hate him, you have a hot ten list that he routinely reminds you of every waking second of your life.

#10: EVEN WHEN HE’S QUIET, HE’S STILL THE LOUDEST PERSON IN THE ROOM

there was a party at his fraternity just a couple of months ago. you were the first to arrive along with giselle since class ended early and you weren’t exactly in the mood to study. mark was the one who bribed you both with the promise of bubble tea so of course you didn’t want to disappoint. you came to the conclusion that he didn’t want the first few strings of people to come in and see a party full of testosterone. he had always been thoughtful like that and you’ve admired him for it. it’s no surprise that he’s so well-liked everywhere he goes.

when you arrived, donghyuck was nowhere to be found. it was only mark, renjun, and some others you don’t fully recognise lugging the beer kegs around. both you and giselle offered to help and they gave you towers of plastic cups to plant at every corner of the fraternity possible.

“it feels weirdly quiet without him. i don’t like it.” giselle mumbled just loud enough for you to hear. she was stacking a few more cups on the foldable table that leaned up against the stairs with fruit punch and rows of canned drinks for anyone who didn’t want to drink alcohol. of all the frat houses that you’ve been to, the one that cared most about their partygoers was the alpha neo frat.

you didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. even when there’s music playing through the speakers at a volume loud enough for you to feel the bass in your bones, it’s eerily quiet without his presence. it felt like you were in a horror movie waiting for the killer to surprise you.

“don’t summon the devil, babe.” you chuckled through your nose. you heard her giggle quietly from where she stood and then there was silence.

an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, like the calm before the storm.

from where you were in the kitchen, you had the perfect view of the entrance to the door. you nursed your bubble tea and chewed on the paper straw. it was beginning to get soggy and you were starting to get annoyed. how the hell were you going to chew on the tapioca balls now?

something told you that he was going to appear in a couple of seconds. you kept your eyes on the door, biding your time as you patiently waited for the man of the hour to arrive. at least he had never been tardy.

the front door suddenly threw open. the corners of your lips crack a soft smile. right when you had predicted.

“I’M HERE, PARTY PEO– ah? it’s just you guys . . .”

lee donghyuck came barrelling in with sungchan and shotaro in tow, all carrying more cheap beer. he first spotted giselle and immediately grinned before he made his way over to greet her with bear hugs. “giselle, our pretty girl!” he practically yelled for the whole house to hear. you’re almost sure that the walls were trembling from his voice.

“hi, y/n!” shotaro and sungchan were the first to spot you as you emerged from the kitchen to help them with the beer cans. you waved back at the duo. when you reached for the pack in sungchan’s hands, he raised them above both your heads and you raised an eyebrow. “this one isn’t for the party, it’s for us to start the party.”

“yeah, we figured the frat already got more than enough for half the campus and then some,” shotaro mused. well, they’re not wrong. with an amused laugh, you gestured to the kitchen.

“alright, let’s keep them cool in the fridge first while we wait for the rest of the gang to come in.”

shortly after the remainder of your friend group had arrived, everyone gathered in a circle in the living room with a beer can in hand. some force in the universe had placed you in between donghyuck and renjun—two best friends with absolutely opposite personalities. damn, your luck was shit.

everyone took their time (see: a quick five seconds) to get ready to shotgun their beer before the party started. you weren’t exactly the best at it but you weren’t going to ask the loser on your right to help out. when you struggled to punch a hole, donghyuck quietly took your can and passed you his freshly punched one with a sigh of faux annoyance.

“c’mon, y/n. we shotgun beers every time we party!” he complained out loud which naturally gathered a few pairs of eyes to land on you both. you wanted to be embarrassed but you’re too occupied processing the fact that he had performed a selfless act . . . of sorts. you rolled your eyes and glared at him when he attempted to give you a tutorial on how to punch a hole in a beer can. “this is how you do it, babe. if you can’t do it, you can always ask for the handsome and charming hyuckie to help you out!” ooh, you really want to sock his stupidly handsome face that very moment.

wait. handsome? no. he’s not handsome. he’s attractive, yeah, but not to you.

fuck. keep it together, dude.

“shut up, it’s not like i do this every other day unlike you, dumbass!” your brows creased and you were tempted to smack the back of his head but you held yourself back. instead, you simply scoffed and attempted to look away.

“just take my can, since i’m your greatest friend in the whole wide world and you looooove me.” donghyuck made it a point to quite literally push his face close to yours. in the dim multi-coloured lighting of the common space you’ve all gathered at, the glint of his lip ring caught your eye. ever since he had gotten that lip ring a few months ago, you’ve been guilty of staring at it every once in a while. but it’s not like you wanted to! it’s right there. it was right in your face, how could you not stare?!

you sharply turned your head and shoved him away to put some distance between your bodies. he’s such a sneaky brat.

“no you’re not, suck my dick.” you rolled your shoulders back and looked at giselle who stood across you in the circle. she only gave you a pointed look and winked flirtatiously, which very quickly made an amused smile appear on your face.

“okay, okay, are we gonna start or are you two going to keep bickering?” renjun voiced out what everyone else was most likely thinking. you assumed that donghyuck was batting his eyelashes at him or probably doing something weird with his face. “don’t give me that look, donghyuck.”

“it’s my lucky handsome look on my lucky handsome face.” he countered. his best friend sighed quietly through his nose.

“anyway.” you pressed, side-eyeing the smug bastard and forcing the shotgun session to begin.

“this is our final year, kinda started a while back but, whatever.” you began, then looked at sungchan, mark, and ningning who were conveniently lined up next to each other. you smiled softly at the trio. “except for you three. mark started grad school already and our babies ning and channie are still in junior year.”

the fond nicknames rolled off your tongue easily for the two younger members of the friend group. hushed giggles and chuckles lingered in the air, almost with a bittersweet note. everyone knew what it meant for you and the rest of the group. as much as it pained for you to say it, you really don’t want this little ragtag team of weirdos to disband when the bulk of you graduate. renjun is still pursuing grad school afterwards so at least he and mark will still have each other but it’s so up in the air for everyone else. despite it all, you know that your love and bond with one another are strong enough to lead you all back to each other.

“we’ll catch up. just wait for us.” sungchan raised his beer can to you. before you can continue, you were interrupted by none other than—

“(nickname) this is too sad, i’m taking over.” donghyuck cleared his throat obnoxiously and bumped his hip against yours as if telling you to move aside. you exhaled through your nose, hearing renjun quietly snicker to your left as you shifted your position accordingly. “first party of the alpha neo frat, let’s have tons of fun and get shitfaced drunk!”

when everyone was about to cheer in agreement, shotaro cleared his throat so obnoxiously that you feared he was going to cough up his larynx. donghyuck blinked and looked at the male.

“. . . within reason because we have classes tomorrow?” he attempted once again, unsure and obviously not a big fan of the responsible idea. shotaro nodded with a bright, satisfied smile, eyes forming half-crescents as he did. donghyuck whined out loud and began his little complaining rant. “taro, you’re no fun. the uni experience is to walk into 9ams with a hangover and–”

“can’t hear you, we’re shotgunning!” ningning announced and raised her can to her lips. laughter echoed throughout, filling up the space of the common room and also your heart. mark followed suit, cheering before he did, and some of the golden liquid dripped past his lips as he downed his drink.

everyone was putting their beer cans up to follow and you felt compelled to face your side. you looked to your right to meet donghyuck’s gaze. had he been waiting for you? almost always you end up right next to each other during pre-party shotguns and almost always he would offer to shotgun together. you don’t understand why but you couldn’t care enough to want to figure out why.

he raised his can slightly. he didn’t say a single word but you could hear him asking if you wanted to shotgun your beers together. the corners of his lips curled upwards into a hopeful yet cheeky grin, but not before swathing his tongue across his bottom lip. your eye caught the saliva-stained gleam on his lip ring once again and you had to force yourself to drag your gaze back up to his eyes. you really needed to give renjun an earful for dragging him along to the piercing studio.

you nodded and gave him back a sincere smile. the both of you raised your beer cans, bodies facing each other. his eyes were fixed on you and you could feel some form of disturbance in your stomach. why did you feel a little nervous? you met his gaze and lifted your can to your lips, him mirroring your actions. in shared silence, while everyone cheered and celebrated in the background, you shotgunned your drinks together as your eyes were locked on each other.

you’re brought back to the present thanks to a rather violent sneeze that came from your left. you turn to look at giselle who’s wrapped up in a thick blanket. her cheeks and nose are a bright scarlet, eyes watery as she glares at her laptop while furiously typing away.

it’s a busy period for the entire student body. just like everyone, you’re swamped with deadlines and projects. you have a milestone check with your professors for three of your classes in the upcoming week, an exam in two, and a group project to consolidate before its submission that same week.

what you’re looking forward to is the four-week semester break that comes right after. you’re not too big on parties but some cheap beer, messy making out with a hot stranger with alcohol and music buzzing through your veins sounds like the perfect celebration after the stressful weeks that came before.

as a journalism student, you doubt giselle is able to catch that much of a break. you remember her complaining to you about her workload a couple of nights ago. her head was on your lap as you stroked her hair while listening to her. apparently, on top of writing an article, she has a group assignment worth 70% of her grade that requires the entire group to produce a video news story. although she was assigned to a team with no freeloaders, everyone’s ideas keep clashing which is causing a lot of stress and pressure on her as the designated team leader.

“gigi, are you sure you want to continue studying?” shotaro quietly whispers, very clearly concerned. he’s only wearing a t-shirt since he had already given her his hoodie, but anyone can tell he’s ready to run back to his dorm to grab another layer for her if she needs it.

“yeah gi, you look really sick.” you echo his sentiments, tucking locks of your hair behind your ears to get a better look at her. there’s a seat between you two, occupied by your bags and unused books. you lean closer to her over the seat and press the back of your index and middle finger against her neck. she doesn’t feel hot, but she does feel a bit warm. unsatisfied with the results you’d gotten, you press the same fingers against her temple. only then do you feel her temperature rise. “giselle babe, you should rest. you’re burning up a little.”

“don’t worry about me, guys,” she manages a weak smile. she sounds so nasally and you resist the urge to sigh but shotaro doesn’t. “i promise i’m okay. it’s just a bit of a sinus.”

“are you sure?” you cock an eyebrow upward, withdrawing yourself back from her.

“i am, i promise.”

everyone leaves it at that. you’re back to dedicating your attention to your laptop to focus on studying but you very quickly find that you’re unable to.

you feel a prickling sensation—like somebody is staring intently at you, watching your every move like a hawk—and it sends goosebumps rippling all over your arms and the back of your neck. you peel your attention from your screen and let your eyes glaze over the table.

sungchan is buried nose-deep in his arsenal of open textbooks surrounding his laptop, preparing for his mock bar exam that’s coming up in a couple of weeks. the poor law student has the toughest professors and you really feel bad for him. shotaro sits next to him, calmly reading through a biology textbook as he highlights and annotates the text. you’ve always noticed how colourful his learning materials are, flagged with multicoloured tabs at the sides. mark has his eyes glued to his laptop as he types away, headphones blocking out any noise that could tamper with his concentration. ningning is sifting through sheets of notes that look like they came straight from those aesthetic study youtubers you’ve come across online, most likely questioning why on earth she decided to major in psychology.

your gaze finally lands on lee donghyuck.

he has his laptop in front of him, and a notebook on his right. he has notes scribbled down and taking up half the page but his pen is nowhere to be found. you drag your eyes to his face where he’s already looking back at you with that stupid grin of his. the shine of his lip ring underneath the library’s fluorescent lights almost winks at you at the same time he does.

frankly, you don’t understand it at all. you cannot wrap your head around how even in a place where quietude is sacred, he’s the loudest man in the room without even opening that damn mouth of his.

he picks up his phone and begins to type furiously into it. your phone vibrates violently on the desk. should you be curious about what he just sent you? you grab your phone and eye him suspiciously.

of course. of course he would send that.

#9: THE WORST OF HIS INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS DIRECTED AT YOU

you would do anything to figure out why you’re his victim. he does throw inappropriate comments at others, especially the males in your friend group, but he seems to refuse to err on the side of caution with you. does he forget that you’re both at each other’s throats? you’re sure he doesn’t since you constantly threaten him (albeit, emptily most of the time) in response to his behaviour.

whenever you walk in medium-to-large-sized groups, you find yourself—no—you find donghyuck always gravitating towards wherever you are. you’re often found in the back to make sure nobody gets left behind and sometimes it works out when he ends up on the tail with you. since he has a megaphone for a throat, you’re able to utilise him if there are any issues if he hasn’t already alerted the group.

the problem lies wherein he tends to forget where he is when immersed in a conversation.

countless times there had to be someone to grab him and yank him back into the group because he was straying a little too far or he was somehow caught in a conversation with the person across the street.

“aww, my pancake is so thoughtful!” that is his go-to line when it’s renjun who fishes him back in, followed by a harassment of kisses all over the poor boy’s neck and face, and back hugs.

“is this the part where i call you hyung?” due to mark having a more westernised outlook when it comes to formalities, nobody in the group really calls for him with honorifics. donghyuck likes to abuse that and seize the opportunity in moments like that to make the poor grad student flustered.

“taro, i love you! i know you love me too, what you did is evidence of your undying love for me!” his victim shotaro tends to get tackled, thankfully not to the ground, and you remember having to be the one to pull them both in because a car was coming from the rear.

but you? oh, you’re getting it way worse than any of those combined.

there was once when he was walking backwards while talking your ear off about one of his professors who keeps ignoring his contributions while he’s in class. sungchan and giselle were walking ahead on the walking path, discussing schoolwork since she had some questions to ask him. dear donghyuck on the other hand was on the road, taking advantage of the fact that it was nighttime and there were no vehicles nearby. you tried really hard not to pay attention to him but his voice was too loud to drain out. you really wonder how renjun does it.

a motorcycle sped past. and then another. both of the vehicles maintained a safe distance from him but you weren’t sure about the one further back. the car was coming in close at an almost dangerous speed.

“hyuck.” you warned him sternly, reaching out for him but he’s moving his arms around too wildly and too absorbed in his conversation to notice.

“–and then he just ignored me! like, hello? i have–“

“hyuck.” the car’s getting closer. you’d really hate for this one to get into a car crash. as much as it would most likely be reimbursed since you’re nearby campus grounds, your friend group kinda needs him.

“–i’m a good student! i don’t know why he does it! is it out of spite? does he hate me? does he–“

“god fucking damn it, donghyuck!” pissed off and scared beyond your wits, you quickly grabbed him and violently yanked him onto the walking path. everything happened a little too quickly for your own liking. you don’t know how his reaction time struck faster with you than the damn car.

when he almost tripped over the slight elevation from the road onto the walking path, his weight sent you both crashing down. he wrapped his arms around your waist and quickly flipped your position to cushion your fall and you ended up on top of him instead of the other way round.

the car zoomed past and you heard the echoes of giselle and sungchan running back to catch up to you both. they sounded so distant, though.

you’re hovering above donghyuck, shellshocked as your brain tried to process what the fuck just happened but you’re more focused on the equally stunned expression on his face. his deep onyx eyes searched yours for any semblance of hurt.

you felt his hands gently massage your waist in an attempt to calm you down and you were thankful because it was working but you’re not going to admit that to him. you swear your heart stopped at that moment. it felt impossible to tear your gaze away from him—soft brown hair dishevelled, fear and panic in his eyes, tongue nervously swathing over his bottom lip to coat his lip ring in a thin coat of saliva—he looked . . . vulnerable. unlike how you’d always see him, all cocky and strutting around like he owned the place.

“y/n?” your name came from his mouth in the ghost of a whisper, almost melodic, but you barely registered it until you felt another pair of hands on your arm to pull you up.

“oh my god, y/n, are you okay?!” giselle helped you onto your feet while sungchan helped him out. her soft fingers cupped your face and your gaze was redirected to her. “that driver is so stupid, do they want to die?! ah, seriously . . .”

“yeah, i’m okay. just . . . just a bit shocked.” you nodded, not wanting to worry her at all. her brows creased in concern and you had to give her the best smile you could muster. your fingers wrapped around her wrists and squeezed them gently. “i’ll be okay, i promise. we should check in on hyuck, though.”

you both turn to look at sungchan who was being dramatically hugged by donghyuck. the taller of the two looked at you, silently asking if you were okay and you confirmed it with a nod. you didn’t think it was a situation that was too life-endangering but it was enough to leave you terrified for a while.

when you’ve all finally calmed down, you continue your journey back to the dorms on campus. donghyuck fell into stride with you but he made sure to walk on the path this time, protecting you from the road. he gently bumped his hip against yours to get your attention. giselle and sungchan were back to talking about defamation and lawsuits a few steps ahead of you so you just tuned them out. you’d probably fall asleep if you heard any more.

“you okay?” he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear.

“mhm. you?” you wanted to say that he’s uncharacteristically quiet but you couldn’t exactly blame him.

“i am.” he left it at that for a heartbeat before he draped his arm over your shoulder. and so it began. he sidled up close to you with that annoying grin on his face you wished you could wipe off. “y/n, i didn’t think you were so passionate about me!” his free hand raised to ruffle your hair and god, you really wanted to push him down face-first onto the pavement.

“shut up, dumbass.” you groan when he quite literally pressed your cheeks together, squeezing your shoulders in an exaggerated form of affection.

“ah, y/n, i know i’m super handsome and my charm is sooo irresistible but you can’t fall in love with me! it’s not your brand, y’know.” he continued his onslaught of . . . whatever the fuck he was doing. giselle and sungchan turned to look over their shoulders to make sure that you were both okay. you met their eyes and they chuckled in amusement before they resumed their conversation.

“i think you shouldn’t worry about them too much.” sungchan teased but donghyuck simply pretended that he didn’t hear him.

“you wanna die, is that it?” you scoffed through your nose in disbelief. how the hell was he so quick with such comments? you shoved his arm off of your shoulders and took the opportunity to elbow him in the side. you didn’t even hit him that hard but the dramatic actor in him keeled over while crying to the heavens how you’re being so brash and brutal to him. “you got a death wish, you bastard? why the hell would i want to be with someone as annoying as you?”

“i have my redeeming qualities! i’m the best cook out of all of us! mark can’t even fry eggs!”

“don’t bring mark into this! i swear, i will push you into a river right now.” you’re not mad. why would you be mad? you were just a little ticked off. why would he insinuate that you were going to have feelings for him? he’s such a fucking rascal. you have standards, for fuck’s sake.

donghyuck was back to walking properly and he crossed his arms across his chest, licking his lips and cocking an eyebrow upward as if challenging you.

“oh yeah? if you want to see me all wet, y/n, i can definitely arrange a private show for you.”

an image of him soaked from head to toe, grinning childishly at you as he stood in the rain flashed in your brain. his cotton shirt stuck to his body like a second skin, hair was flat as he walked up to you with that stupid look on his face. you’d never really noticed how sharp his jawline was until you watched the raindrops easily slide down to his chin and onto the ground. nor had you ever really noticed that even though he wasn’t as built as that guy jeno in your class, he still had a decent physique with his toned biceps, chest, and stomach.

your cheeks burned when you realised you had been staring at him all along when that memory made itself present in your mind. defeated and very obviously at a loss for words, you flipped him off.

sometimes you wonder if he just says these kinds of things just to watch you get ticked off. ever since you first met, it has been non-stop terrorising. it doesn’t even matter if you’re alone or in the presence of other people.

you quickly type your response and send it but before you can put your phone down, he’s replying with more to piss you off. you silently scoff through your nose and lift your gaze to him only to find him—yet again—staring back at you.

your heart stopped for a brief second when your brain finally processed his text. he’s always throwing such things your way without warning and you don’t even get a second to answer before he’s moving on.

you would do anything to be able to chuck your phone at his head right now. but given the circumstances, you would all get banned from the library for causing a huge ruckus.

this isn’t the first nor will it be the last time he’s going to say shit like this to you.

immediately you’re yet again reminded of a similar incident that happened a few days earlier.

it’s not like you were dressed up more than usual. you were just trying a different style than usual and it involved more revealing clothing. said clothing was just a strapped black lace bustier top. everything else that you wore matched the top and was relatively normal.

giselle and ningning were obviously supportive of you trying something new, even going the extra mile to go to thrift stores with you after class and hunting shopping spaces online for the right piece. naturally, you modelled for them through facetime before you headed for class and their encouragement gave you more than enough confidence to leave your dorm.

you held your head a little higher than usual, and your steps more confident as you went about your day. your classes ended around noon, and usually, you would meet up with sungchan and giselle to have lunch before studying a bit. you weren’t waiting for compliments from anyone nor did you need any but of course, lee donghyuck had to put himself out there and get underneath your skin.

he was most likely on his way to his frat house. sometimes you’d bump into him if you were unlucky. he knew better than anyone not to sneak up on you from behind (especially after halloween in freshman year) but you’d rather have him do that than yell your name for the entire campus to hear. he’s like a malevolent spirit in the guise of an attractive man-child who thinks fart jokes are funny.

“y/n, are you ignoring me?” he whined out loud and it gained the attention of some passersby who looked towards your direction in brief curiosity or annoyance. he called your name again as he caught up with you before he threw his arm over your shoulders. you have never known if it’s a habit or if he had been doing it on purpose to get under your skin.

“what do you want, hyuck?” you deadpanned, turning your head slightly to look at him while walking. he easily fell into stride with you—as if it’s an action as natural as breathing—and surveys you from head to toe. his silence speaks a thousand words at maximum volume and now you’re suddenly self-conscious.

he walked a couple of steps ahead of you while facing you. his hand gently grabbed onto your forearm, as if he was guiding you somewhere. your brows creased in visible confusion.

“y/n.” he called out your name so sweetly that it almost threw you off-guard. you nodded at him to tell him to continue. for a moment, he didn’t. his dark eyes glazed all over your figure from head to toe, tongue swiping over his lips. the sun’s rays got caught on his silver lip ring and it shone brightly enough to capture your attention for a split second.

he was wearing a maroon button-up shirt with the buttons undone halfway down to reveal the silver cross necklace that always hung loosely around his chest. you would be lying if you said he didn’t look good. he’s attractive and he knows how to highlight his best features.

his eyes finally met yours and truthfully, nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

“you look really fucking good.” the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a playful, cocky smirk. he winked at you and blew an air kiss before turning his back onto you and walking off. you were frozen in place as he continued his journey to wherever the fuck he was supposed to be. he raised his arm to wave at you but not once did he look back. “see ya for movie night tonight, babe!”

remembering that particular incident had your cheeks burning against your will. forcing yourself back to the present, you rake a hand through your hair and look down at your phone to find new texts from him.

you don’t know if you want to crawl onto the table and choke him or just leave him on read. although the first option sounds great, you know that he would probably pin you down faster than you’d like.

as much as you would hate to admit that he is right, you’ve all been holed up in the library for quite some time. giselle isn’t getting any healthier nor are any of you going to get any more productive. you lick your lips and sigh through your nose. there’s no way around it—everyone needs to stop studying.

#8: LEE DONGHYUCK GETS HIS WAY MORE OFTEN THAN YOU CARE TO ADMIT

you’re not going to lose this fight. there has been one too many times where he gets his way. half the time, he’s whining and using what he calls his ‘undying charm’ against the entire group to get them to bend to his will. that ‘undying charm’ is him using aegyo of all things.

renjun would do anything to get him to stop doing it and it often means giving in against his wishes. sungchan simply enjoys watching donghyuck humiliate himself. shotaro is often torn between liking it and hating it but you don’t blame the guy one bit. mark loves it because he finds it cute for some reason. giselle doesn’t really care for it. ningning films it all for blackmail, but given how he pretty much enjoys doing it, she now vows to convert the footage into meme packs for the group’s perusal.

you’re on the same boat as renjun except you’re not willing to bend and break so the hellspawn can reign supreme.

donghyuck is staring at you yet again, batting his eyelashes and pouting as he shimmies his shoulders slightly. you stare back in mild disgust. he points his chin to the rest of the group, pouting yet again at you and you can hear him whine and beg for you to be the one to suggest stopping.

then, you hear some faint thudding of sneakers against the carpeted library floors. is he stomping his feet?!

when you pretend to drop a pen so that you can see his feet, he’s unabashedly stomping them like a child being refused a new toy. picking up your pen, you rise back into your proper seated position. you’re convinced he’s a man on a mission to get you to break. so far, out of everyone else, you’re the one with the highest success rate of not letting him get his way.

renjun isn’t part of your study session for the day since he had to work with his team members so you’re the only person standing against lee donghyuck’s constant need to be pampered.

you’re not that easily bribed but you’re not sure if you want to count this as a win, either.

donghyuck looks at you with his face aghast as though he just saw a ghost walk right behind you. you simply shrug lamely. if he wants to eat and stop the group study since it’s barely productive for anyone anymore, then he’s the one who says it. you have a feeling that he doesn’t want to be the one to put a halt to the session since sungchan was the one who suggested it. as soft and gentle-looking as the towering man is, he’s dead serious when it comes to studying.

you hear a creak of the wooden study chair before a pen clattering onto a thick book, followed by a soft groan of defeat. your gaze quickly flits over to ningning who is leaning back and balancing her chair on its two hind legs.

“i don’t wanna study anymooooore!” she complains loud enough for the table to hear.

“ning!” shotaro hushes her with a whisper but there’s a wave of relief that washes over him when he realised he’s not the only one done with studying. he gently taps mark’s shoulder and you half-expected the grad student to not notice. mark immediately removes his headphones and blinks, looking at the table like a deer caught in the headlights. “you okay to stop? we’re all kinda brain dead and giselle’s about halfway to becoming one of the zombies from train to busan.”

“am not.” giselle gruffly protests before blowing her nose as quietly as she possibly can.

“yeah, i’ve been vibing to my music since an hour ago.” mark bashfully admits as he hooks his headphones around his neck.

“traitor.” donghyuck huffs.

“let’s pack up and send gigi back to her dorm.” you suggest, already closing your textbooks and laptop. some of the gang (namely giselle, ningning and sungchan) still need to return the library books they used so you took your time. “her dorm room is the biggest out of all of ours so we can just order food and stay with her til she gets knocked out from the cough syrup.”

“that sounds like an amazing idea, y/n.” you gingerly look over at the man who was begging for you to speak first minutes ago. he’s grinning widely at you and wiggling his eyebrows. of course, he got saved by ningning. or was it you who got saved by her?

you pick up your phone and quickly text him.

when you pocket your phone, you don’t even attempt to be subtle as you flipped him off openly. in a childlike fashion, he reciprocates the action.

you help giselle with the books she borrowed and make sure she didn’t get any of her gunk on the poor pages. she looks like a kicked puppy as she cleans up her side of the study desk, tying up the plastic bag that ningning gave her to throw all of her used tissues. you can always count on the psychology student to be ready with the weirdest shit. if you need a hairdryer at that very moment, you’re 70% sure she can provide you with one immediately.

after the large study desk has been cleaned and sanitised, you make your way to leave the library in complete silence. sungchan and shotaro are up ahead while ningning walks closely behind with giselle. that leaves you in the back with mark and your oh-so-beloved donghyuck.

your eyes take some time to adjust to seeing the night sky. you entered the library around two in the blazing afternoon and it’s now seven in the evening with the sun nowhere in sight. everyone is finally out of the suffocating building and you’re able to get a breath of fresh air.

“i want fried chicken!” donghyuck suddenly screams into the night. since you’re right next to him, the sudden announcement startled you to the point you nearly tripped over your own two feet. his voice echoes in the distance for the rest of the universe to hear. maybe aliens will hear his call and abduct him.

“jesus christ, dude.” mark punches his shoulder at the same time ningning whips around to kick him for scaring her.

“you idiot, don’t go around yelling without warning them!” she starts to smack him for a good minute while he whines about the ‘pain’, knowing full well she has the combined strength of two doughnuts.

“i just wanted fried chicken!”

“eat my fists instead, jackass!”

so the both of them continue for a little while longer until ningning finally gets exhausted from exerting the last of her energy. instead of doing anything to stop her, everyone just watches with smiles on their faces. sungchan cheers her on, and shotaro has his phone out filming the whole thing.

you catch his eye and raise an eyebrow.

“for the memories,” he smiles sweetly, eyes forming half-crescents. you want to believe him but you know damn well he can be as big of a troublemaker as donghyuck.

“okay, yeah, now i’m down for some fried chicken.” ningning casually announces after her attempt at beating donghyuck up into a pulp. he stands up straight, stroking his ‘sore’ arm after spending the last couple of minutes bent over. “no fried chicken for gi, though. only warm soup.”

“ugh, you suck.” giselle groans and creates a bigger distance between the both of them by walking sideways but ningning drags her back. the younger girl wraps her arm around giselle’s and sidles up to her lovingly. “i still hate you, ning.”

“you love me.” she dreamily sighs.

everyone falls back in step to make your shared journey to giselle’s dorm before getting dinner.

you’re not sure what had come over donghyuck but he mirrored ningning’s affection with both you and mark, sandwiching himself between both your bodies.

“dude if you scream again without warning–“ mark begins but he immediately gets interrupted.

“i won’t, i promise!” he childishly tries to win the other’s favour. you know that it's a battle that was lost before it even started because the grad student is weirdly weak to donghyuck’s aegyo. “i’ll be a good boy, markie.”

you turn to look at him with an expression of very obvious disgust. when he takes notice, he turns to you and gently bumps his hip against yours.

“is y/n feeling a little neglected? does widdle (nickname) want some lovin’?” he tries to lean in to snuggle into your neck.

“stop it, you’re so gross!” you try your best to push him away but the hold he has on you is firm. you don’t even notice that he had unlinked his arm from mark’s and he’s tickling you to try and get a reaction. you’re not that ticklish but you’re sure that you’re laughing out loud at the absurdity of the situation.

“oh my god, it’s been years since i’ve heard y/n laugh like this.” you hear sungchan exaggerate in the distance. giselle sneezes out loud (enough for her to jump in her spot) and you assume it’s her way of agreeing.

when donghyuck is finally satisfied with his aggression, he breaks away from you with a wide grin. you take a second to catch your breath, huffing as you glare at him.

he’s bathed in the moonlight and fluorescent lights from the street lamps as he walks smugly. you want to be mad at him but you can’t. or maybe you’re not. it feels good to be able to release pent-up energy within you but you’re not exactly happy that it’s him of all people that’s making you laugh. his eyes glint mischievously and so does the silver ring that perches near the corner of his plump lips.

“you’re still gross.” you deadpan.

“say what you waaant,” he drags the last syllable in a sing-song voice. god, you really hate it when he says it like that. you want to choke him for it but you’re sure he’s going to enjoy it. “still made you laugh.” he shrugs, the smug grin not once leaving his face.

you shove him away and stick close to mark instead, who welcomes you with a hearty laugh and a head pat.

all of you arrive safely at her dorm ten minutes later and place your belongings by her study desk. she makes a beeline for her bed before flopping into it, sliding out of her furry indoor slides and burrowing herself underneath the covers. ningning makes herself at home and lies down next to giselle whose incoherent grumbling barely reaches the other girl’s ears. nobody is a stranger to her spacious dorm—it’s the go-to place for hangouts when you’re all too lazy or tired to spend time outdoors.

while everyone settles down in the open space between her bed and study desk, you make your way to the small kitchen to make her some warm honey lemon tea. you don’t remember where you got it from but you’ve always drank honey lemon tea whenever you fell sick. at times when you take care of your sick friends, you always make the drink, even for the worst of them all. there’s a buzz from your phone in your back pocket.

“since when did we order the food already?” you say out loud, free hand grabbing a mug from the dish rack.

“mark texted him while we were walking.” sungchan pops in to grab a canned drink from the fridge. he notices you and the mug you’ve taken and immediately picks up on what’s happening. he grabs something from inside and passes you a half-lemon protected by a beeswax wrap before leaving without another word.

you think nothing of it, sliding your phone into your back pocket so you can continue making the drink. you grab the jar of honey that she keeps in the wall cabinet and upon placing it down on the counter in front of you, you stare at it. one of the reasons why you hate it when any of them are sick is the honey. you will almost always have trouble opening up the jar and closing it properly because half the time, you’re making the tea after a shift at work or some heavy studying.

doesn’t hurt to try, though.

you brace as much strength as possible from your exhausted body and do your best to unscrew the airtight lid. you’re too lazy to boil some water and let the jar sit for like, ten minutes, so using sheer brute force is all that you have left in you.

“tsk, c’mere.” someone’s voice rumbles gently in their chest from behind you. they grab the jar from you and you turn to find donghyuck. within the blink of an eye, the lid pops open and you barely miss the way his biceps bulge under his loose-fitting shirt and the veins that run along his forearms making an appearance. “you could’ve asked someone for help.”

“yeah, yeah.” you wave him off dismissively. he’s the second person to reach into the fridge to grab a drink before he disappears back into the living room, where the main party and one sick person is.

by the time you’re done preparing giselle’s tea, renjun had also arrived with everyone’s dinner. you bring both her tea and samgyetang to her so she can eat with the rest of the group. ningning has since moved to the floor to join everyone so you decide to accompany the ill.

“thanks for the food, ren-jeon!” donghyuck calls out while the chicken gets distributed. shotaro had disappeared into the kitchen to grab the paper plates so chaos reigned for a short while underneath giselle’s roof.

“just for that, you owe me ten dollars for service and delivery fees.” the duo-toned male flips him off.

“what?!” he cries incredulously.

“i take both cash and bank transfers,” renjun states flatly as he makes himself comfortable in the circle. shotaro returns with a stack of paper plates and paper cups to a scene of donghyuck throwing yet another tantrum.

“i wonder when hyuck will ever beat the bratty bottom allegations.” sungchan quietly (not really) comments and it’s more than enough to send the entire dorm into flames.

everyone is shouting and donghyuck is, well, whining, which doesn’t really do anything to help him. not positively, at least. you sit down next to giselle and find sungchan smiling to himself amid the noise.

“guys!” shotaro is torn between laughing and taming everyone down. mark is taking everything in with a huge smile on his face while smacking a very unbothered but smug renjun. “oh my god. sungchan, what have you done?” he mumbles in pure terror.

“everyone shut up before her RA comes in to complain! you know her RA is the worst.” you feel a little bad but you’re laughing too, so you help shotaro with the damage control. your words are more than enough to get the rowdy bunch to quiet down and you puff your chest slightly in pride.

whenever you hang out at giselle’s dorm as a huge group like this, it tends to be risky but since more than half of you are in your graduating year, you don’t really care.

“y/n my saviour!” donghyuck springs from his spot and prances over to you, pulling you into a crushing hug and burying his face into your neck. your heart immediately starts racing a mile a minute. your ears suddenly burn and your throat runs a tad bit too dry at the sudden action. this stupidly natural reaction to skin contact with him always has you barely feeling dizzy at the end of it. you don’t know why, but you hate it. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.

“okay, stop, you know i’m allergic to you.” you gently form some distance between both of your bodies. he huffs in protest but releases you regardless.

you find yourself a seat next to mark with your back against the leg of giselle’s study desk. shotaro and renjun are sitting close to the foot of her bed, while donghyuck sits in front of her bedside table. sungchan sits on the other side of mark, which leaves ningning space between giselle’s thighs since she’s sitting upright on the edge of her mattress.

the last thing you expect is having complaints about exams and assignments as the conversation topic.

almost everyone is studying in different disciplines. ningning studies psychology, giselle studies journalism, sungchan is a law student, renjun and shotaro both study biomedical science, mark studies music, and donghyuck is a computer science student. the boys are all in the same fraternity—alpha neo—and you met the girls through freshman orientation. ningning and giselle came from the same high school so they had already been friends when you first met.

you’re lost in the bubbles of conversation that break away from the main topic, indulging whenever someone asks you something (“y/n, you have prof. moon, right?”) or needs your confirmation (“that ta jaehyun is hot. am i right or am i right?”) on something.

“sungchan, after your mock bar exam, let’s host the biggest party ever.” donghyuck suddenly announces for the whole room to hear. there are some hums and nods of agreement but you’re frowning slightly, mulling it over. he seems to have noticed and quickly adds: “channie’s mock bar is the final exam and nobody else has anything due after the date, right?”

you think long and hard for an answer when it’s already in front of you—no.

“i don’t see why not.” renjun is the first to pipe up and agree. “it’s the end of exam season, we’re letting the summer pass, and then we’re graduating. a pre-celebration of celebrations, if you wanna look at it like that.”

“you’re not wrong,” you twist your lips to the side, nodding. it’s not like you’re going to have to worry about a lot of things after sungchan’s mock bar exam. your summer internship has been contracted so you wouldn’t be entirely jobless the whole time. there’s a couple of weeks’ worth of a window between the day after his mock bar exam and the day your internship begins.

“how big are we talking? if you’re talking cheap beer, you gotta up your game.” ningning takes a sip of her coke.

“we’ll get soju! vodka! we have a running tradition in the alpha neo frat where seniors every year will put money in a safe spot for the incoming seniors to use.” you aren’t at all too impressed or reassured with the explanation that donghyuck had just given you. you cock an unimpressed eyebrow upward at him to make sure he knows it. he catches your eyes and purses his lips in a thin line, glaring at you. “i know we have a lot because i’ve lifted the box before and it’s heavy. no sound of coins, either.”

“oh yeah, i make sure to put in a portion every time i get my paycheque from work.” mark chimes in as a matter of factly. “i don’t think i’ve contributed the most, but i’ve definitely contributed.”

the whole room erupts into a cacophony of “aww!”s and “that’s so sweet!”s, praising the grad student for his selfless deed. it’s obvious that he’s not used to all of the attention so he’s just shyly grinning and hiding his face behind his hands. even you can’t help but coo at how adorable he is when he becomes bashful like this.

“we’re gonna be able to have the best party ever thanks to mark!” shotaro claps his hands in joy.

“i mean, it’s not because of me—” mark begins, only to be interrupted by a very excited donghyuck.

“let’s make sure it’s the biggest party we’ve ever thrown!”

a loud, violent sneeze rips through the room and everyone turns to look at giselle. ningning slowly and gingerly moves towards sungchan and renjun instead.

“how about we make sure that gigi doesn’t die first?”

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

a few days after that, you find yourself in the campus library yet again. this time, you’re alone in a small cubicle to focus on studying. the last time you studied there, it was pure chaos and of course, it’s all thanks to donghyuck.

a thick book full of material related to your course of study is open right next to your laptop. translucent sticky notes are all over its pages, highlighting important keywords and scribbled-down annotations that would help you recall concepts better. your shoulders are straining after subconsciously curving your spine and turning yourself into a shrimp for the entire forty-five minutes that you were studying. you’ve decided to take a quick fifteen-minute break since you’ve been studying for about three hours in total already.

you roll your shoulders back and get up from your seat to do some quick stretches and relax your body. you’re thankful that you are lucky enough to be able to get this secluded corner in your campus’ busy library. while you’re cornered in and hidden by rows of clean, white bookshelves, you have the perfect view of everyone and anyone who’s on the level beneath you. unfortunately, that also means you’re able to see people doing anything other than studying.

like the girl that’s trying to trap a helpless jeno against a bookshelf. it feels rude to look but sometimes you do enjoy just watching humans be in their natural element. you spot someone else coming in and interrupting the girl from whatever she’s trying to do. curious, you stop stretching and lean in to get a better look.

jeno instinctively reaches out to this person and immediately pulls them flush to his side, even going the extra mile to press a kiss to the person’s temple. a few words are being exchanged, the girl appears to be apologetic and then she walks away. jeno and this mysterious person hug it out but there’s no mistaking the hearts in his eyes as they talk in hushed whispers. when they’re leaving, you notice that they’re practically attached to the hip that it’s a little difficult to see if they’re holding hands or not.

you smile quietly to yourself. jeno’s in the same frat as donghyuck so you know that donghyuck would most likely be up-to-date with all of the happenings with all the frat members. you don’t have a say in it but there are times when he will suddenly blow up your phone with the latest gossip that he’s heard of. you hate it when he does it because not only does it distract you from whatever you’re doing but you end up wanting to hear more because your friend group is too wholesome and full of healthy relationships for any drama.

#7: HE LOVES GOSSIP WAY TOO MUCH

you’re about to return to your station and study when there’s a violent series of buzzes in your back pocket. there’s only one person on this godforsaken planet who wouldn’t be afraid of spam-texting you and it’s none other than lee donghyuck.

you watch your message go from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’, but there’s not a single sign of life from him. did he suddenly fall off the face of earth and die? did aliens appear out of thin air and abduct him? you frown at your text messages with him, scrolling up to your past texts then scrolling back down, half-expecting to see the three dots pop up but there’s none. whatever, he’s probably crossing the road or something.

you return to your seat in your little study corner, ready to continue your productive streak when your phone starts buzzing again. the screen lights up and you see donghyuck’s caller id appear on your screen. you know better than to reject his call so you slide the answer button across and bring your phone to your ear. as soon as your line connects, he’s whisper-yelling your name into your ear.

“you’re not in the library with me, you don’t have to say my name like that, jackass.” you balance your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you reorganise your notes aimlessly, hands itching for something to do as you talk to him.

“how else do you want me to say your name?” he scoffs in disbelief that you had chosen to start the conversation with that. “would you rather i say your name like this?” it’s followed by him lowering his voice as he calls your name, rasp evident and a quiet, teasing chuckle punctuating it. shivers rush down your spine in a quick, teasing flash and your stomach flutters nervously as you blink at your laptop screen, the words swimming aimlessly in your vision.

“don’t do that ever again.” you do your best to deadpan him but your breath hitched just before you had spoken. your voice had definitely betrayed you back there and you’re just glad he didn’t relish in that opportunity to openly embarrass you.

“or what? you’re gonna fall for me?” you can hear him smirk through the line with the light huff at the end. ticked off from his provocation you glare at your laptop screen as if it’s him. you grab your phone and change its position to your other ear as your free hand digs through your bed for your airpods.

“not even for a million dollars.” the words taste bitter on your tongue. why do they? you finally find it at the bottom of the bag and fish it out, quickly plugging your ears. they ding at the successful connection and his voice quickly comes through.

“i didn’t think i’d be worth at least a million to you, babe.” he purrs which unleashes another set of flutters in your stomach and uneasy throbs of your heart. he better be glad you’re not within arm’s length because you’d be throwing hands immediately.

“god, just shut up already. you said you had the juiciest news or something?” you grumble, urging him to change the subject. you prop your phone up against your half-empty water bottle just in case he chooses to switch to video out of nowhere. there are one too many times of that happening while you’re in the middle of a call with him.

“oh, fuck. yes, right! okay, so, remember that really hot TA, jung jaehyun?” he begins with a tremble of excitement lacing his words. you mumble a quiet, “uhuh,” in return as you take a look at your notes to see where you’d last left off. “he made out with a freshman and apparently they got pretty deep into third base.”

“if making out is first base, isn’t third base pretty much fucking?” your question slips from your lips before you can even help yourself and you can hear him scoff incredulously at you on the other side of the line.

“no, my dear y/n. the first base is light kissing. the second base is when you start making out. third base is making out with over-the-clothes action, maybe a little bit of dry-humping . . .” he starts explaining as if you’re someone who’s just entering the world of physical intimacy with another person. “do you need me to teach you or something? i’m free right now if you catch my drift.” you don’t need to see him to know that he’s obnoxiously winking and licking his lips at you.

“suck my dick, hyuck.” you sigh, rolling your eyes. where did you stop again? you swear you noted something down somewhere in the book. regardless, you urge him to continue. “the story? what’s wrong with him making out with a freshman? it’s practically a rite of passage, i made out with this guy who went by ten and another senior then. i can’t remember their name, though.”

“wait, ten? he’s the guy that’s an apprentice at the piercing and tattoo store renjun always goes to!” he gasps. “hold on.” you hear donghyuck struggling on the phone, hands probably busy as he focuses on whatever obstacle he’s facing. your eyes return to your since-abandoned study session. you’ve studied for a little over four hours and you deserve at least a couple hours’ break before you continue. right? yeah. yeah, that sounds good. “i’m home! renjunnie, are we gonna order food?” he most likely has his airpods in too because boy, is he fucking loud. you had to lower your volume so your eardrums wouldn’t rupture.

“do you have fucking trumpets for lungs?” you hiss in slight pain while you start packing up. he giggles out an apology that you know he doesn’t mean at all.

“okay, get ready for the shock factor. ready?” his footsteps are heavy as he races up the carpeted stairs to get to the room that he shares with renjun in the frat house. you made a non-committal noise that tells him to continue while you peel off the translucent sticky notes you’ve used on the pages of the library book. you’d be damned if the library staff found your notes and countless question marks and ‘what the fuck’s written next to paragraphs. you absent-mindedly reach for your bottle, pocketing your phone and taking a sip of water. “the freshman is the prof’s niece.”

why did your brain choose to make you do that at that very moment?

his words take you by complete surprise and you’re choking on the water as it runs down the wrong pipe. your eyes search your laptop and the library books you’ve used for the day and you heave a sigh of relief when nothing is damaged. you want to berate him for not warning you. who the hell says ‘shock factor’ anymore and why did you take a sip of your water?

“oh my god, are you okay?!” you can tell he’s torn between laughing and being concerned for you but he ends up choosing to do the former. your fingers close into a fist and you repeatedly thump it firmly against your chest, coughing and clearing your throat until it doesn’t feel like you just got waterboarded. “y/n, you good?” it’s his turn to cough too but from laughing too hard.

you really ought to get him for this one but it was kind of your fault that you decided to drink water right then and there. whatever—you can blame him still. he doesn’t have to know.

“lee donghyuck, what the fuck?” you want to be mad at him, you genuinely do, but you can’t.

every time he drags you in to gossip about something he’s heard of because a friend of a friend of a friend told them some juicy rumour, you end up getting immersed because of his weirdly captivating storytelling skills. you hate to admit it but even he can spin paint drying into something thrilling and interesting. sometimes he reminds you of the aunties and grandmothers in your family coming together to talk in hushed whispers about things that are happening with their children. you’re confident he’ll fit right in with them.

you’ll always get distracted from whatever you’re doing. you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t have a nice voice. he has a lovely one and you know he’s got some good lungs when you have karaoke nights. you remember everyone being surprised when donghyuck and renjun first sang properly for everyone.

wait, why are you thinking about his voice?

“i’m serious! it’s the niece! i even stalked that professor’s facebook!” you stare at the glass wall in front of you, deadpan at his confession. he sounds so proud of it, too.

“why on earth would you do that?”

“in my digital literacy class, i learned to always fact-check before disseminating information because fake news easily goes rampant–”

“my god, just shut up. forget i asked.”

“now, why on earth would i do that?” he’s smirking to himself—this one you’re sure of—and he’s probably puffing his chest out, too. suddenly you hear a voice in the background that sounds distinctly like renjun’s. “huh? i’m talking to y/n. wait, you have a shift today? can you bring back the chocolate croissant for me pleaaaaase? please, junie, pleaaase?”

“you’re so annoying, help the business out and buy it instead of taking the leftovers!” renjun scolds him but you know that he will be bringing back that croissant for donghyuck if there’s any.

“tell renjun to have a good shift at work,” you quickly pipe up with a quiet grunt as you lug the heavy book to return it where you found it.

“don’t tell me what to do!” he retorts childishly. in a sweeter voice, he goes, “have a good shift at work renjunnie!” you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“thanks, y/n. hope your study session was productive.” renjun’s voice is right in your ears and you hum positively in reply. you find the nearest book return cart first before the right bookshelf so you carefully put it in there.

in the background, you hear some back-and-forth bickering and you hear jeno’s name perk up in the conversation. you don’t really know him that well since he tends to keep to himself and he has his own friend group.

finally, the phone is back in its owner’s possession.

“okay, hi, i’m back. did you miss me?” he coos into your ears and you have to physically resist the urge to punch something as a substitute for his stupid face.

“i didn’t even notice that you’d left.” you close your laptop and slide it into its sleeve before packing it into your bag.

“ugh,” he groans. “i have an exam tomorrow and i lost my calculator.” as you leave the library, you frown slightly at his statement. this is going to build up to something. he’s going to ask to borrow your calculator, you’re sure of it. you have one lying around because your field of study doesn’t exactly require frequent usage of it and your upcoming exams and assignments don’t need it.

“then get a new one,” you lamely suggest. if the word ‘borrow’ even leaves your lips, he’s going to ask you for the calculator. you already know he’s going to ask anyway but you’re just trying to minimise the chances of him doing so. if possible.

“for an exam? it’s not cost-effective!” donghyuck whines in your ears and you roll your eyes. the automatic doors slide open and you walk past jeno and the same person who had saved him earlier.

“neither is losing your calculator a day before your exam.” you retort with a scoff through your nose. although they were ahead of you until you took over, you managed to catch a glimpse of their fingers brushing against each other, itching to hold the other’s hand. right before you sped up, they intertwined their fingers and you can’t help but smile to yourself. that’s cute.

“c’mon, just lend me yours! i know you have one!”

#6: HE BORROWS THINGS AND NEVER RETURNS THEM

you’re not the only victim of never getting your things returned to you. he’s borrowed a lot of things from a lot of people and you doubt he’s returned over half of the items.

back in freshman year when some of you hung out in your dorm, he asked what made your room smell so good. you wanted to say that you were acquaintances back then but given how comfortable he was with riling you up, you figured you were past that already.

your dorm wasn’t the biggest nor was it the smallest but it was enough to host renjun, mark, donghyuck, giselle, and yourself for the time being. you don’t even remember why the hell this particular combination of people was in your dorm.

what you do remember was mark ripping the nastiest fart by accident since he had been skipping meals and finally had proper food earlier that day after everyone had literally dragged him to the nearest kfc to eat something with everyone else.

you had to open the windows and your door to let the air circulate. honestly, you half-hoped that someone would walk past the dorm and smell the toxins that had been unleashed. mark was, of course, extremely embarrassed to the point where he was laughing his ass off while donghyuck and renjun made fun of him. you grabbed a dainty glass bottle that can be easily mistaken for perfume and quickly spritzed every single corner of your dorm until it smelled like apricots, tangerine and vanilla.

“whoa, that smells so good!” donghyuck was the first to make a comment on the scent of your air freshener. “may i?” gone are the days when he used to ask politely for things. now, he just whines, begs, and acts cute until he gets his way. you handed him the bottle and he read the labels and everything in curiosity, surveying it like it was the finest item that had ever graced his hands.

you had let him be and checked in on mark to make sure that his soul wasn’t going to ascend into the heavens out of embarrassment. within minutes, donghyuck was asking if he could borrow it to test for his own room. out of the goodness of your own heart, of course, you said yes. it’s safe to say that you had to buy a new bottle a couple of weeks after that because the one you let him borrow never saw the light of the next day.

in hindsight, you probably should have taken that as a precautionary tale or even a lesson. even though he isn’t the best at returning the things he borrows, at least he pays back what he owes when it comes to money. maybe that’s why you lent him that vintage corduroy jacket that you thrifted and made the excuse that he looked good in it and that it was too big for you.

“so can i?” donghyuck’s voice pulls you back to the present. you don’t have any upcoming exams or assessments that require you to use the calculator so it’s practically just collecting dust. if it were someone else asking you, you’d give in with no hesitation. since it’s the one person on this godforsaken earth who likes to mess with your head, you need to seize the opportunity and ask for something in return. “pretty pleaaasseee? my bestest friend in the whole wide world?”

“ouch, imagine if renjun heard that.”

“he’ll live.” you hear a soft thump from his end and you assume that he had fallen back on his pillow dramatically. “c’mon, y/n, please? i’ll do anything!” then he begins to start chanting ‘please’ quickly enough to make you cringe.

every time you think that he cannot possibly get even more annoying, he proves you wrong when you least expect it. at times like this is when his brain truly astounds you.

you start to tune out his incessant mantra that turns into white noise. since it’s two in the afternoon, you’re headed to the canteen to have a slightly late lunch before you head back to your dorm. the entire campus seems oddly empty but you know you can attribute it to a majority of the students mugging in the library or off-campus for their field projects.

“y/n! are you listening to me?” you snap your attention back to him and blink distractedly like it’ll help you focus on him.

“what? i stopped when you started being extra annoying.” the kiosk for purchasing your meal ticket appears and you make your way over with a light spring in your step.

“i said i’ll buy you a meal in exchange after your exam tomorrow . . .” your brows furrow slightly when he sounds pouty. this is where the tricky part comes in—there are some very special cases when he’ll tug at your heartstrings and get you to break when he sounds desperate and pathetic enough. as your finger hovers over the purchase button, you start to find difficulty in moving on.

“i want that curry katsu rice from hongdae.” the corners of your lips upturn in a proud smile as you finally buy your meal ticket and grab the small slip of paper.

“what?! i don’t have a car, we can’t drive there!”

“there’s a car rental service and it costs like, eight bucks per hour. hongdae’s a half-hour drive with good traffic. you can rent a car for two hours, three hours maximum and make it back in time. my exam ends at 11 am and yours at 10:45 am so i don’t see the problem. you’re still paying less by buying me food than buying a brand new calculator.”

silence falls on his side of the line and you know you’ve hit the jackpot. you grab a tray and start picking out the side dishes that you want with your rice as you wait for his response. you quickly thank the canteen staff and find a seat amongst the sea of empty tables. it’s so eerily empty that you feel like you’re in a ghost town illuminated by fluorescent lights.

“fine, you win. i’ll let you know if i can rent a car.” he grumbles.

even as you eat lunch, you’re both talking about anything that you possibly can as if you’re a pair of friends who haven’t spoken to each other in five years. you wonder if it’s the stress of exams and assignments wearing you down because you find yourself letting yourself go around him. you’re able to laugh freely, throw insults at him, and forget about how taxing university can be for the graduating cohorts.

after you’re done eating and returning your tray to its designated area, you’re still talking to donghyuck. you don’t want to admit it out loud to him but he does have a nice voice. soothing, even. you prefer to listen to him when he’s not whining or making annoying sounds with his mouth. he is most definitely a guy with great humour, and he’s thoughtful and polite when he wants to be.

he accompanies you through the phone as you make your way back to your dorm, talking about how renjun keeps getting distracted by some guitarist in a store while he works. the few times he visited his best friend at work, apparently he kept staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass walls as if waiting for someone to appear. then he’s complaining about how jeno refuses to admit to this person that he’s known since freshman year that he’s in love with them. so that’s who the mystery person is. you don’t personally know them nor have you met them but you’re sure that he has good taste.

finally, you’re back in the sweet confines of your dorm and it’s the same second that your airpods begin to breathe its last few breaths. thanks to donghyuck, you’ve been given some time to shut your brain off before you spend the rest of your day mugging and doing last-minute revisions for tomorrow’s exam. if you’re going to look at the brighter side of things, it’s your final exam and everything else is just submissions in the following week.

“okay, i gotta go. my airpods are dying and i need to continue studying.” you announce, sliding out of your shoes and into the furry dorm slippers that giselle had gotten for you.

“boo, you nerd.” although he says that, you know that he doesn’t want to end the two-hour call just yet. the weird thing is, neither do you. “study well. you’ll crush your exam tomorrow.”

you frown at the sudden affirmation.

“thanks,” you mumble. “you too.”

“at least say it like you mean it!” he complains loudly and you resist the urge to strangle him through the phone.

“what do you mean by that? i didn’t half-ass it! would you rather i go—“ you put on your best customer service smile and voice from when you used to work in retail—“‘oh, hyuckie, thank you so much! you’re the greatest, i’m sure you’ll do well tomorrow too!’?”

“yeah, i do! i like it a lot better when you call me hyuckie!” you open your mouth to hit him back with a smartass retort when you realise that you can’t. what he had just blurted out finally registered in your brain after an entire three seconds of silence.

“. . . huh?” that was all that you managed to say.

“everyone calls me hyuckie but not you.” his voice is barely above a whisper, a confession that’s so shy leaving his lips. “it’d be nice if you called me hyuckie every once in a while, you know.” is this his way of saving himself after that? are you reading too much into it? when did you even call him hyuckie?

when you backtrack and realise that you had indeed called him hyuckie by complete accident, your face burns in embarrassment. it’s not like you don’t want to call him that. you do but every time you even want to formulate it in your brain, you fear that it sounds more affectionate than you want it to be.

what the hell do you say now that it’s slipped?

you’re struggling for the right words to say, searching every corner and crevice of your brain for something—anything—but it feels like the seasons have passed and the flowers have bloomed until the final petal is hanging desperately onto the bud for an answer.

“i’ll call you hyuckie whenever i want to.” your voice comes out in a shallow whisper. it doesn’t sound like a proper answer but more like a promise.

“or alternatively, you could always call me yo–”

“can’t hear you, i’m hanging up, bye!” as soon as you anticipate what he is going to say, you talk over him in panic and abuse the red button on your screen until the call ends. with a loud groan of defeat, you drop yourself onto your bed and toss your phone onto the pillows. you cradle your head in your hands and release another groan, this time out of frustration.

it doesn’t make sense why your heart is fluttering and your stomach is twisting from what he said before you interrupted him. you both get along like fire and ice. he flirts with every single thing that breathes. you insult him every chance you get. you hate his guts half the time. he picks on you and gets on your nerves every waking moment of your life.

so why do you feel this compelling urge to kiss him to shut his stupidly handsome face up every time he’s near?

maybe it’s because you’re stressed.

yeah, that sounds right. you’re not thinking straight. the mental exhaustion and fog that comes with mugging for exams and tying loose ends for several projects are finally taking a toll on you. it’s so bad that it’s beginning to cloud your judgement and influence you into thinking otherwise.

yeah.

you’re just stressed. you’re definitely not developing feelings for someone in your friend group. university has been taxing on both your mind and body. this feeling—whatever this is—will eventually pass.

suddenly, your phone buzzes on your pillow. you lean over and grab it to open up a text from none other than the man himself.

another loud groan rips through your throat as you toss it back onto the pillow.

“i hate you, lee donghyuck.”

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

before you know it, your exams are over and all of your assignments are turned in.

no longer are you staring at a laptop screen amongst an ocean of open books and colourful page tags or holding a pen praying it won’t run out of ink halfway through the exam. for the first time in weeks, you managed to feel relaxed and well-rested after sleeping for ten hours straight. forget having to hole yourself in some secret corner in the library or your room with days-old stains on sweatshirts.

you’re free from the treacherous throes of exams and so are your friends, which is why you’re at the alpha neo fraternity with virtually every single student on campus with a cup of fruit punch in your hand.

like what donghyuck had promised, it’s the biggest party of the frat that you’ve ever attended yet. led lights line the perimeter of every ceiling to set the mood. speakers are found at almost every corner making sure the music fills the space. the entire place reeks of alcohol and sweaty bodies dancing, playing games, making out, and doing anything they can to relieve the stress of university.

speaking of donghyuck, you haven’t seen him in person for quite a while. you’ve texted, sure, but you’ve also been texting the others in your friend group. everyone had arrived at different timings so you couldn’t do your shotgun tradition which is perfectly fine. maybe you even felt a bit of relief if that meant not seeing him for a while longer.

the one who greeted you at the door was a face that you completely did not recognise. you doubt she’s someone from the frat but she did a great job at welcoming you in. she pulled you into a hug before she let you in and she strongly smelled of soju and beer so you figured she was drunk or at least close to that.

now you’re sticking close to the walls, hoping to catch even a glimpse of any one of your friends. texting them is futile especially when you’re sure half of them are drunk already. even if you feel a tad lonely in a frat house full of people, you’re sure your friends are more or less fine. probably.

“y/n!” you hear your name amongst the loud crowd and heavy bass that resonates through every fibre in your bones. you turn to see giselle with one hand already out to grab you. a soft laugh escapes your lips as you make your way over to her and meet her in the middle. “we were looking everywhere for you! everyone’s in the attic.”

“the attic?” for all the time you’ve spent in this house, not once have you ever guessed that there would be an attic. or a basement. “is it a creepy attic like the ones in scary american movies? rundown and all that?”

she cackles out loud and that’s when you know she’s on the verge of being drunk. she begins to lead you to wherever this place may be, snaking through a sea of sticky, sweat-slicked bodies.

“it’s well-kept, don’t worry. it’s not just us, there are others in their own groups too. it’s like . . . like . . . oh! a small party away from the main party.” she reassures you with a slight sway in her steps. if she’s on her way to being drunk, that means sungchan, ningning, and donghyuck are most likely already there. of everyone, renjun and shotaro have the highest alcohol tolerance out of everyone else, but you’re sure they want to take as many shots to get them loopy.

after navigating through the crowd, there’s a flight of stairs at the end of the third-level hallway, hidden behind a foldable shoji screen. that’s kind of a smart way to hide the attic from the lot of them.

the attic is unlike anything you’ve imagined.

fairy lights are strung along the walls, with singular light bulbs and potted plants hanging from the ceiling. there’s a moderately big speaker at the far end, connected to presumably mark’s laptop, playing music that you actually like. it’s not loud enough to be heard by people outside but it’s loud enough to drown the music at the main party.

like what giselle had said, there are people mingling around in their own little groups but sometimes they’ll break away to talk to others. there’s a table for snacks and for some reason, a large plate of roasted chicken. from the way it looks when you survey it, apparently, people are eating it too. there are three plates of baked cookies with one labelled ‘infused with devil’s lettuce’.

above your head, there’s a huge skylight that’s open to reveal the constellation of stars that decorate the dark night sky. moonlight floods generously through the attic and illuminates everything that it delicately touches. at the end, there’s a balcony separated by sliding glass doors that would lead people to the swimming pool below.

you spot what’s left of your group in the distance. donghyuck is the first to notice you and call out your name eagerly. you spot ningning, shotaro, and mark sitting with him in a circle.

“y/n!” one by one they turn their heads and cheer your name enthusiastically. your heart swells at the affection the group has for you and a big beam spreads across your face.

“i’m here too? hello to you too, damn.” giselle sulks and pouts, burying her face in your neck. you laugh and pull her close to your side, squeezing her waist gently before letting go so you can both sit down.

“so how drunk is everyone?” you place your cup down on the wood floor, looking at the group and the various states of drunkenness.

“on my way there,” ningning cutely slurs her words with a cheeky thumbs-up. sungchan is nowhere to be seen and you have to guess that he’s getting drunker than a skunk.

“we just wanted to get our eyes on you first before going to the main party. hyuck’s already four shots in within a little over an hour.” mark points at a somewhat drunk donghyuck, eyelids halfway down and shoulders drooping while he sports a loopy smile of contentment. if you didn’t know any better, he probably had a little bit of the edibles with his drinks. “renjun and sungchan are downstairs playing beer pong with others, we’re looking to join.”

“ning and i found two other girls who are really, really cute and we’re also hoping they’re a little—“ giselle flicks her wrist downwards gently “—so we can get some action. but maybe it’ll just be me if we don’t sober up soon.” she takes another swig of her drink with a toothy grin.

“i’ll go with beer pong. with this one drunk,” you gesture at donghyuck, “i’m sure we can get him to do some weird shit. good luck to you girls, though.” you’re already laughing to yourself thinking about the possibilities that could happen. when he’s sober, he’s already quite competitive and stubborn. these two traits of his seem to shine brighter when he’s drunk.

“sounds like a plan.” shotaro gives the gathered group a thumbs up.

everyone gets up and collects their valued belongings as you prepare to move to the main party. within minutes you’re back to loud, pop music that everyone knows the lyrics to with ridiculously strong bass shaking both the skeleton of the house and yours.

you’re bumping into swaying bodies left and right, either high as a kite or drunk as a skunk until you finally find the corner where renjun and sungchan are playing beer pong. there are a lot of faces that you don’t recognise but you immediately pick out jeno, the hot TA jaehyun, and the hot girl you hooked up with some months ago from them. at least they’re familiar.

it appears that the beer pong is no longer just beer, but a mix with soju and some coke. some drinks contain all of those. that’s surely one way to party.

when a ping pong ball bounces off the table and onto the floor, you realise that sungchan is no longer trying.

actually, he’s no longer sober.

renjun has practically wiped all of his cups while he only has half of renjun’s. the poor law student can barely even stand straight, he’s aiming all the way to his opponent’s general left area. you’re not even sure if he’s able to stand after the game.

“i can do it better,” you hear donghyuck mumble out loud enough for it to reach the ears of alpha neo’s king of beer pong.

“are you sure about that?” renjun scoffs through his nose and the ping-pong ball hits his chest. however, it bounces and lands in one of his cups. he was about to congratulate sungchan but there’s a gentle thud and the next thing you know, the poor boy is on the floor and knocked out cold. “oh my god. okay, someone else please play. i’m taking him to his room.”

“markie! i wanna play with you!” donghyuck has chosen his opponent and you have chosen to help renjun get sungchan up to his room while shotaro babysits the lightweights.

honestly, you didn’t think that taking sungchan back would require maths, physics, the forces of nature, and some divine magic. he’s a very tall person—the tallest in your friend group, too—and that means his limbs can end up in awkward, gangly situations. his arms are flopping over your shoulders as you help him up the stairs but it’s more of you and renjun making a joint effort to drag him up.

when you get into his room, you tuck him into bed while renjun prepares a bottle of water, some pills for the morning, and a plastic bag on the side just in case he needs to hurl. you’re both in and out quickly and then it’s just the both of you alone as you make your way back to the beer pong table.

“so when are you going to act on it?” renjun asks out of the blue. you turn and look at him in visible confusion, gesturing at him to elaborate. “your feelings for donghyuck.”

“huh?!” you almost choked on your spit at his ridiculous assumption based on nothing at all. “i do not have a crush on him.” do you? your tongue is all twisted as you think of a compelling argument to dispel his claims. “have you seen him? he’s . . . him!”

“dude, i’ve seen the way you look at him and the way he looks at you.” he laughs. what the hell does he mean by that?

“i look at him in contempt and disgust. my feelings for him are pure hatred. i tolerate his existence.”

renjun doesn’t seem at all too convinced by that. underneath the dim, coloured lighting, you’re glad he won’t be able to see most of your facial expressions when you turn away from him.

“whatever you say, y/n.” he smiles sweetly at you but you know it’s not sincere. it’s thinly-veiled sarcasm and he always gives that smile when he knows something that you don’t.

you open your mouth to retort when somebody grabs your arm unexpectedly. ready to fight whoever had grabbed you without your consent, your free hand balls into a fist as you turn but you’re quickly met with shotaro and his soft smile. you immediately relax.

“sorry, did i scare you?” he bashfully apologises while dragging you and renjun into the small circle that’s formed around the two beer pong players.

“all good, taro,” you pat his bicep gently.

mark has cleared some of his cups while donghyuck has only cleared a couple. it’s obvious who’s the winner and it’s even more obvious who’s tipping over the edge already.

“how’s the winner feeling?” you muse teasingly, arms folded across your chest as you look at mark.

“it’s not much of a challenge.” he shrugs as his opponent misses yet another cup. “he’s too drunk to even aim properly. i’m tipsy and i still can get some shots in.”

“talk later when i smoke your ass, lee minhyung!” he slurs, wagging his finger at the other. you’ve seen the man in varied states of drunkenness before but this is probably the first time he’s properly let go.

“oh no, the government name.” mark giggles while he grabs a ping pong ball so he can prepare his round. “i’m so scared, hyuckie.” he bounces the ball against the table and it aptly lands in one of donghyuck’s cups. half of the circle cheers while the other half chants for the sore loser to chug.

even in his drunken state, he can find the cup with the ball bobbing sadly. he takes it and carefully places the soiled ball into a bowl of clean water. you’re curious about what he will be drinking this time—will it be coke, beer, soju, or all of it mixed?

the second you see a slight frown on his face as he tastes the drink, you know it’s something he doesn’t want. he got beer.

“markie, winner gets to pick what the loser does!” he announces before downing the carbonated drink. god, you really should’ve seen this coming.

#5: HE WILL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE A POINT

the first time you had witnessed donghyuck go to lengths to prove a point was in freshman year. the boys were playing basketball while you, giselle, and ningning sat with shotaro at the side to listen to music and just vibe. you didn’t know what had started the commotion but there was a lot of shouting that had immediately stolen your attention.

“you’re not tall enough, jackass!” you heard renjun yell, fingers pressed to his temples as if he’s beyond stressed out.

“you should talk, jun.” donghyuck grinned. that man looked death in the eye and winked.

renjun did not hesitate to grab the orange ball from mark’s hands and started to chase him around with it.

“you wanna fucking die, you rat bastard?!” you couldn’t help but laugh at the scene unfolding. giselle practically fell into your lap laughing when the ball bounced off the ground and attacked donghyuck in the ass.

“all i said was i can definitely dunk!” he cried out in agony as he dramatically fell on the court and rolled over on his back in a spread-eagle position. sungchan grabbed the rogue ball and towered over him with a sadistic grin, raised over to his chest and ready to throw it directly where the sun doesn’t shine. “no! no, no, no! channie have mercy please, i’ll buy you ice pops! i’ll buy you anything!”

you were half-expecting sungchan to smash donghyuck’s precious testicles right then and there but he’s not as sadistic as you are . . . probably. he pretended to drop the basketball and the victim screamed bloody murder, immediately curling up and begging for mercy.

“you definitely cannot dunk!” you shouted loud enough for the boys to hear.

“yeah, hyuckie! you’re too tiny!” ningning continued the jeering and everyone was laughing out loud at the blatant affectionate bullying.

“i’m not too tiny?!” not wanting to take any more slander, he jumped onto his feet and immediately bumped into the tree that is sungchan and another round of giggling filled the air. “everyone, wait here. i’m gonna be back and exact my revenge! just wait!”

“we have all day, hyuck.” you raised your eyebrows and he flipped you off in response. and so he walked off with his phone to who knew where.

“should we follow him?” mark asked, hands on his hips as he watched his figure become tinier in the distance.”

“he’ll be fine.” renjun waved dismissively and walked over to where the non-basketball players lounged with the music and food.

“welcome to the oasis,” shotaro welcomed them with a smile, passing their water bottles over to them while they made space for themselves.

minutes later, donghyuck comes back with a ladder and you already had a rough idea of what he wanted to do. everyone fell silent as he walked across the court and planted the ladder directly underneath the hoop. he went back to your little picnic spread to retrieve the ball and by then, ningning had her phone out to film him.

all eyes were on him, basketball tucked under his armpit, strutting back to the metal ladder with a purpose. he climbed the steps and as soon as he was within reach of the hoop, renjun heaved a loud sigh.

everybody knew what he was doing by then. he held the basketball high over his head and dramatically shoved it down the hoop.

“i told you i could dunk!” that was simply the beginning of his countless misadventures just to prove a point.

there are over dozens of memories you would love to reminisce about but the beer pong game appears a tad more interesting.

mark had already gotten more than half of donghyuck’s cups, leaving him with three left to win. his sore loser of an opponent has about ten cups to clear and the winner is standing with one hand on his hip while he leans against shotaro.

“hyuckie, mark kinda won by a landslide.” renjun throws one of his arms over his shoulders to support him but he’s whining nonsense and pouting at his best friend.

“he still has cups! i can still win!” he declares aloud only for his words to get swallowed by the deafening music.

watching him, you have no idea if he’s an idiot or just plain drunk and competitive. but you honestly respect the fact that he’s still so eager to lose.

“okay, and what– guh– what does the loser have to do?” mark is obviously starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. as much as you would like to be a good friend and get him water, you’d hate to miss the shitshow when hyuck loses.

“wear a trash bag and throw himself in the pool.”

out of all the bets that the boys have been involved in, this is considered very tame.

mark’s eyes light up and it looks like he’s sobered up slightly as if he’s gotten a new sense of purpose.

you want to say that the game has gotten tense but everyone’s waiting for the grad student to win so they can play too. a song that you recognise begins playing and it’s that viral tiktok song, cupid. naturally, everyone else knows it too and starts aggressively yelling the lyrics.

weirdly enough, they’re playing the english version instead of the korean version which makes you laugh a little. most of the students at the party are native korean speakers so it was pretty amazing to see them excitedly singing along flawlessly. you spot some randomly mouthing things (see: donghyuck) until they get to a part they recognise.

from the corner of your eye, donghyuck was dancing along and even yanked mark to rope him into joining. the sheer sight of them drunkenly yet passionately dancing makes your heart swell with so much affection for your friends. renjun already has his phone filming it because you know that mark will deny ever doing it.

“i’d give a second chance to cupid!” everyone, including yourself, screams into the air, and bursts of laughter resonate afterwards.

“by the way,” mark turns to donghyuck, gaze heavy and serious. the younger male reciprocates the energy and you suddenly wonder what’s up. “you could never wear a trash bag. you’re too good-looking for that, bro.”

you sigh heavily. you definitely need more drinks for this. you turn to renjun who’s already way ahead of you, returning with three cups of soju mixed with coke.

“what? i could definitely rock a trash bag!” donghyuck protests with his words slurring together a little. you take your cup and take a huge gulp, needing the buzz under your skin.

“nobody’s wearing any trash bags!” shotaro exclaims in exasperation, not wanting to deal with either one of them accidentally flashing the entire campus. it’s not like it’s the first time, but he still wants to save some of their dignity.

“shh, let them be.” you wave dismissively at the two men standing on either side of you. “you two go and get drunk.”

“and let you have all the fun in watching these two dolts?” renjun scoffs but takes a swig of his drink. the last time you had all gotten drunk like this, renjun was the one who had taken care of everyone. you know he needs this release more than anyone since he’s going through some personal things on top of stressful exams.

“go on, jun. we know our y/n will take care of us.” shotaro cheerily swings his arm over your shoulders and takes a generous gulp of his drink. oh, he’s going for it alright. a wide grin spreads across your face as the three of you bump your plastic cups together.

renjun mulls over it for a moment before he quietly sighs. that’s when you know he’s given in. your eyes widen when shotaro stops him from chugging his drink.

“junie, let’s do that thing where we lock arms and drink!” you’re not sure if it’s the sugar in his system (he mentioned eating too much chocolate beforehand in the group chat) or if he had a bit of those weed cookies but shotaro is oddly giggly and loud. you’re not complaining, though.

you take a couple of steps back to give them space as they lock their arms. the two bring their cups to their lips and start to chug together. a laugh is caught at the back of your throat as you shake your head, taking another swig from your own cup.

“time to party!” shotaro and renjun disappear into the crowd, leaving you alone with mark and donghy–

wait.

you whip your head around, squinting to find the drunken sore loser. good god. you don’t know where he could have possibly gone. mark is generally not a problem when he’s drunk—all he does is giggle at everything and shower the nearest object with compliments. right now, the victim of his affection is jeno.

you look at the two and make eye contact with jeno. he probably managed to sense that you’re worried for him so he flashes you a sweet, reassuring smile and throws a thumbs up too. you exhale and smile back in relief, nodding slightly at him. you’re definitely going to have to thank him one of these days.

now, to the matter at hand: where the hell is lee donghyuck?

if it’s up to you, you’d flip the entire frat house upside down, pick him up like a mii character and drag him away from the crowd. since you have various limitations, you’ve resorted to using a high iq method: you have to think like a drunk donghyuck.

the best and the worst thing about him is that he’s unpredictable. but even when he’s unpredictable, he is predictable. so, taking a gulp of your drink, you try to think of the most probable theory that you can based on what had transpired less than fifteen minutes ago.

when the realisation hits you, you sigh and finish the rest of your drink. if you’re going to take care of him, you’ll do it with a slight buzz in your system before you can let go of all your inhibitions. you quickly find the nearest bin to dispose of your cup before setting off on your quest to stop your drunk friend from doing something stupid.

the first location that you went to is the kitchen. it is weirdly empty but you’re glad you didn’t walk in on anyone fucking. you notice the cabinet door underneath the sink is open slightly ajar. you open it up fully to see what’s inside and you’ve revealed your first piece of evidence: the pack of black trash bags being messily thrown aside with bits sticking out of its packaging.

so he already is in possession of the trash bag. he can’t be too far. you reckon he is definitely nearby. you just need to find bits and pieces of trash bags as you wade through heavy, sweaty bodies that you refuse to make any contact with.

donghyuck’s voice finds you faster than you trying to find him. you follow the direction where his laughter and drunken announcements are coming from until you find yourself in the backyard where the pool is, with the man himself dressed in a trash bag that barely covers his ass. wait. he’s not wearing underwear!?

“lee donghyuck!” you try your best to throw your voice over the music and it seems to have worked because he’s slowly turning around as you rush over.

the only problem is that his arms are still up and you can see the head of his dick peeking from the hem of his trash bag dress. you quickly avert your gaze out of respect and disgust (it was mostly the latter) and grab his arms to pull them down so he doesn’t flash himself to anyone else.

“what the hell are you doing?” you grab the cup that he’s holding and shove it into the hands of a passerby. he follows the direction of the cup but you divert his attention back by grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you instead. “lee donghyuck, focus up.”

“y/n, you’re so hot when you’re angry at me,” he wistfully lilts, his body swaying towards you and you steady him with your other hand. you simply let his comments be, knowing that he’s just intoxicated with enough drinks to keep him that way throughout the night. he calls out your name again in a sing-song way, arms circling around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. “it feels so hot and you’re so warm but i’ve always loved your hugs . . .”

“yeah, whatever, let’s get you in bed. you’ve had enough.” you reach into your back pocket for your phone to take a look at the time and he hisses at the bright light from your screen. you mumble a half-assed apology that you probably don’t mean. it’s not even one in the morning. how quickly did he drink? you arrived at the party about two hours ago and the doors opened at nine.

donghyuck starts whining your name and leans in to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, snuggling into you more when you begin to move.

#4: HE’S THE WORST DRUNK IN THE GROUP

you don’t mind your friends when they get shitfaced drunk. most of them are tolerable. mark starts to be overly affectionate with the nearest object. renjun gets moody and a little bit of a killjoy but get him more drinks and he’ll turn extremely giggly. giselle is weirdly confident and will begin to confess her undying love for her best friends. sungchan turns into a curious five-year-old and will eventually pass out. shotaro is loud, giggly, and will act like a person who’s high as a kite. the opposite is also true when he’s consuming the devil’s lettuce. ningning is also another one who unlocks a hidden volume button and becomes a loudspeaker when she gets drunk, and can and will make out with the nearest girl. donghyuck, on the other hand . . .

“hyuck, c’mon.” you pat his back but he squeezes you tighter and nuzzles his nose where your skin is exposed, needing the contact. another weak whine drawls from his throat. “you’re drunk and you’re gonna regret it in the morning. let’s get you in bed.”

“you’re not my parent.”

“no, i’m not but i have your mom’s number.” you don’t but you know it’s enough to scare a drunk donghyuck into behaving.

just as you predicted, he pulls away from you and his eyes widen in a mix of fear and panic. your faces are impossibly close. your cheeks and neck burn from the sudden proximity. from being mere inches away, you can see the beauty marks on his face, the gentle slopes and the sharp angles that make up his facial features accentuated by the strong shadows of the dim, coloured lighting. he looks good in neutrals and natural lighting but as ruby red filters into view, it’s like you’re looking at an ethereal creature made by the hands of aphrodite herself.

“you wouldn’t.” he dramatically whispers. his breath reeks with a putrid mix of john walker, soju, and coke, which easily brings you out of whatever stupor you were in before he started speaking.

“try me.” you challenge him with an eyebrow cocked upwards. you grab your phone and unlock it, immediately pretending to search for his mom’s number in your contacts. you tap on mark’s number and pretend to start a call.

“no! nonononono, don’t, don’t! i’ll behave, y/n, please!” donghyuck immediately grabs onto your wrist and gives you the best drunken puppy eyes he can possibly muster. you almost feel bad for wanting to laugh but you quickly hide it with a scoff through your nose. it’s not like he’s going to hear it, anyway. “promise me you won’t call my mom!”

“fine, fine,” you shake your head and keep your phone in your back pocket. “are you ready to go to bed?”

“i’m not tired!” he whines and starts to stumble off, in pursuit of what you’re guessing may be another red cup for a drink. you follow him from behind and make sure he doesn’t bump into anybody and get into a fight with one of the weirdly muscled dudes from another frat. lee donghyuck is a lot of things but a winner in physical fights isn’t one of those.

“no, but you’re extremely drunk and you’re gonna get a hangover so bad you’re going to throw up.” when he picks up a cup, he diligently yet clumsily scoops it into the bowl of spiked fruit punch. sure, why not? that works.

“can a drunk person do this?” he turns to you and looks at you like he had just cartwheeled across the room. you give him a non-committal noise and he takes it as a win, triumphantly downing a generous amount of the punch. an excited squeal escapes him and you had almost mistaken him for an idol’s fan. “this tastes so good! it feels like i have the teletubbies dancing in my tele-tummy.” oh god, you barely forgot how much worse his jokes can get when he’s smashed.

he can barely stand still, body swaying as he struggles to keep his feet on the ground. as you stand there and survey him from head to toe, clad in nothing but a black trash bag, the first question that pops into your mind is: where the hell is the rest of his clothes? the deep, saturated red of the coloured lights emphasises some of his best features.

you notice the curves of the toned muscles of his biceps, the dark shadows that cast making them appear more defined. your eyes trail further down and his thick, sturdy thighs come into view. he had once told the group that he went for a lot of dance lessons, spanning from jazz to ballet to tap, and has a natural affinity for it. even though he no longer dances, he’s part of the university ice hockey team with mark, jeno, and sungchan. maybe that’s where he gets those thighs from.

before your mind can start to wander, somebody bumps into you from behind and you’re shoved into his chest. his arms come around to instinctively hug you but he has his cup in hand still. you feel cold water run down your back and you involuntarily shiver.

“lee donghyuck!” your voice comes out a lot more whiny than you intend it to.

“i’m sorryyy!” even his apology is coming in a slight slur. “tissue—hic!—tissues . . .” he mumbles, searching around for something to clean you up with. you sigh as you make some distance between the both of you. you can’t really be mad at him when he’s under the influence of alcohol.

“that’s okay, hyuckie. let’s get you into your room, yeah?” the nickname falls from your lips all too naturally before you can even register it in your brain. you take him by the arm and remove his crushed plastic cup from his hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“m’kay . . .” he grumbles. luckily, he’s too drunk to even realise that you’d called him by his favourite nickname. when you look at him, he looks like a kicked puppy with his shoulders sagging and feet dragging along the floor as he walks with you. cute, you think to yourself.

donghyuck looks down where your fingers wrap around his forearm. he doesn’t say a word but instead chooses to remove your hand by the wrist, then place it where his hand is out waiting for you. he intertwines your fingers together, warmth spreading through your body and your heart is skipping beats every other half-second. you look up at him in surprise but all he does is give you that big, cheeky grin of his.

you clench your jaw and take a deep breath. why are you suddenly feeling nervous underneath his gaze? he’s drunk. he’s intoxicated. he’s anything but sober. he can’t form any coherent thoughts so you can’t start feeling these . . . weird things in your stomach when he does shit like this. all you need to do is get him to your room and change his clothes. you might borrow one of his shirts since your top is ruined, but it’s not your first time doing it.

“c’mon, let’s go.” you chastise him gently and tug him forward so you can continue walking.

it feels like the crowd keeps forcing you two together. wading through the sweaty, dancing bodies, your back is pressed up against donghyuck’s chest. you don’t know if he’s slowly sobering up since his free hand is on your waist, squeezing every now and then as you desperately search for a way out from this suffocating sea of people. everyone is stumbling all around you, barely bumping into each other, slurring apologies or half-assed empty threats that disappear in the thick fog of music in the air.

after what seems like forever, you finally found the flight of stairs that lead to his room in the frat house. by then, donghyuck is practically leaning against you for support and mumbling incoherencies that you can barely make any sense of. you lug him down the hallway and as you get further from the party and music, you find yourself paying attention to the shit he has to say.

“sometimes i wonder why you act as if you hate me so much but then i realise maybe you like me like i like you too but then i think again and it feels like . . . mm . . . it feels like your body is so warm and soft, i can fall asleep on you . . . junie told me to make a move but i don’t know . . . should i make a move?”

what the hell is he talking about? you spot his door and zero in on it, bumping into one of his very sober frat brothers—johnny, was it?—who flashes you an apologetic smile as he makes his way out to rejoin the party. you thought that his eyes were looking a little red-rimmed but you let it go since all that’s on your mind is to get this drunk man out of his trash bag and into a set of pyjamas, tuck him in, then call it a night.

“y/n,” he drags out the last syllable of your name and rubs his face into your shoulder. “feels hot, wanna take m’clothes off.”

“hang in there hyuckie, we’re almost in your room.” you release your intertwined hands and he whines from the loss of contact. you sigh, rolling your eyes as you open the door. it’s not your first time in his room—he has always kept it clean and organised. you flip the light switch and his room is illuminated with a bright white light. he’s one of the fancier ones who has a remote controller to change if he wants warm light, white light, or somewhere in between.

as soon as you sit him down on his bed, the first thing you do is peel your top off. he’s drunk and he definitely won’t remember a single thing, which is why you’re so comfortable with it. you start digging through his drawers for one of his shirts to wear and grab the first one you see, pulling it over your head and immediately being showered by his scent.

his usual cologne consists of smoky, woody scents balanced out with the sweet tones of vanilla. he always smells so familiar to you and it fills you with a certain kind of warmth that spreads throughout all over your body. sometimes you hope his scent embeds itself into you, sinking through your skin and deep into your soul.

when you realise that he’s been awfully quiet, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but the rustling of the trash bag tells you otherwise. you whip around to look at him struggling to get himself out of the plastic with his dick out for the whole world to see.

“lee donghyuck, what do you think you’re doing?” you sigh in exasperation, deliberately looking anywhere but waist-down.

“it’s hot, y/n!” he complains out loud and lets his body fall back onto the mattress dramatically. even when he’s drunk he doesn’t resist being a little bitch, huh.

“i know that, chill. let me get you some damn clothes so you don’t have your dick out.”

you turn your back on him and start to dig through his drawers once again. you pull out a pair of basketball shorts and dark navy calvin kleins for him to change into. before you can pass them to him, donghyuck is out of the trash bag and he’s hugging you from behind. his arms are secured around your waist as he rests his forehead on your shoulder while groaning in pain.

“can you make the world stop spinning? m’head hurts . . .”

“lee donghyuck, are you naked?”

“i asked you first.”

you sigh.

“i can’t make the world stop spinning but can you put on some clothes?” with the fistful of his minimal clothing, your peel one of his hands from your waist and place it there.

“i dunno, can i?” ah, he really is cute for trying.

“just put on the clothes.”

he mumbles something to himself, most likely complaining about how ‘mean’ you are but it’s nothing you haven’t heard before, especially when he’s like this.

you hear him stumble and struggle until you hear the elastic band of his boxers snap against his waist. you don’t hear any movement from him and you’re overcome with a strong urge to turn around.

“hyuck?” you softly call out his name.

“can i just wear my boxers to sleep? ‘s too hot . . . m’body feels like ‘s on fire . . .”

for someone who’s drunk, he sure is moving around a lot faster than you would like to admit. before you can even do anything else, he has his arms wrapped around your waist and his forehead is yet again on your shoulder. you’re being engulfed in his scent from standing in his room, wearing his shirt that’s a tad big on you, and him hugging you from the back. maybe engulfed isn’t even the right word— you’re overwhelmed, practically even drowning in it and your mind is reeling from how good he smells and feels, much against your liking.

“i’ll turn the air conditioning on for you, how’s that sound?” he’s an absolute handful to deal with when he’s drunk. it’s like taking care of a sugar-high kid, especially when he crashes and burns and turns into a big baby.

donghyuck makes a small sound of approval and you take that as a yes. you turn around whilst still being trapped within his arms. your hands perch tenderly on his firm shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze but he pulls you in tighter and you sigh.

“hyuckie, i can’t tuck you in and turn on the AC if you’re going to keep hugging me.”

“but y’feel nice an’ soft,” he mumbles into your shoulder, nuzzling his nose until he makes contact with your skin and sighing happily. “wanna cuddle you.” the sudden confession had your stomach twisting nervously in knots.

he’s drunk, you remind yourself. he hasn’t a single clue what he’s talking about. it’ll pass when he’s tucked in and fast asleep. suddenly you yearn for the loud music and sweating bodies downstairs.

you wordlessly reach behind you to unwrap his arms from your waist. with your fingers wrapped around his wrist, you lead him to his bed and sit him down after you have pushed aside his blanket. you make sure that he’s properly lying down before turning on his air conditioner and setting the timer for an hour.

donghyuck whines your name into his pillow when you tuck him in, refusing to let you go.

“hyuckie,” you gently warn him to behave without an ounce of real anger.

“‘s too bright. wanna cuddle.”

you fall silent at his request. he’s drunk and exhausted and you can tell from the way he’s getting whinier and his fights are becoming weaker. you need to throw his trash bag dress away and toss all of his dirty clothes into his hamper.

“give me five minutes, can you do that for me?” you whisper. you’re going to have to turn the lights off as soon as you’re done with what you have to do. you’ll just let him cuddle you and as soon as he falls asleep, you can return to the party and check in on your other friends.

“fine,” he grumbles after pondering it over. you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to pat his head and give him a kiss on the temple like you would to literally anyone else when you’re taking care of them when they’re drunk off their asses. you hold yourself back and quickly get down to business.

within minutes, you flick the light off once all of your chores have been completed. it only means that you have to return to entertaining the man-baby who had been quietly watching you while you worked.

donghyuck calls out for you again and you sigh loud enough to let him know that you’re still there. if you’re going to get in bed with him, you might as well get comfortable even if it’s for ten minutes.

you quickly shimmy off your jeans before crawling underneath his duvet on the other side of his bed. you hear some shuffling so you guess that it’s him rolling over and your assumption is correct when you feel his arms circle around your waist to pull you flush to his chest. it probably doesn’t matter to him that your back is to him, but god, it’s the only thing that matters to you.

heat rushes from your core straight to your cheeks and chest, goosebumps rippling across your arms as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. you’re fighting tooth and nail so you wouldn’t feel anything but there’s a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach from the contact.

“y/n?” he calls out, his voice merely the ghost of a whisper. you feel his plush lips move softly against your skin through the cotton of his shirt that you’re wearing and for a brief second, you had wondered what it’s like to feel it directly on your exposed skin. “you won’t leave me, right?”

you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t know what he’s secretly talking about. just before he met you, he had broken up from a relationship of close to four years. you remember how he was in his healing stage when you were first properly introduced to each other. it appeared like he was a mere shell of the man he used to be.

to him, everything reminded him of her. you maintained a safe distance from him because you knew it wouldn’t be pretty if something happened and the last thing you needed was to cause infighting. your group was still fresh and looking at everything through rose-tinted glasses. you were all new to each other and there were boundaries yet to be set.

you remembered renjun sharing with you that she was her first real relationship—you still remember her name: kwang haein—and they quite literally went through thick and thin together. renjun lamented to you, saying that they didn’t exactly have the healthiest relationship and it didn’t help when they started it in high school at the ripe age of 15. it was a miracle they made it all the way to graduation.

she was someone who would manipulate him into spending time with her and gaslit him every time they got into a fight. she was emotionally unavailable and hyuck had so much love to give. every time she spared mere crumbs, he would number them and keep them to satisfy himself, considering the affection that he deserved. the worst part of it all was the fact that haein broke up with him through text of all things. she called him a narcissist for wanting to spend time with renjun and mark, rekindle what was once lost and rebuild their friendship after he realised the damage he had done to her.

you don’t know what exactly happened, but you know that haein gave this poor man abandonment issues.

tears prick from the corner of your eyes without even realising it when you recall the hurt and the pain he must have experienced during and after his relationship with her.

get a grip, you tell yourself, exhaling quietly through your lips. you quickly wipe away your tears before they fall and turn around so you can look at him. he shifts back when he realises you’re moving around. half-lidded eyes heavy with the beckoning of sleep, he looks at you in confusion.

“i’m not gonna leave you, hyuck,” you promise. before you can even catch yourself, your hand moves up to push locks of his dark brown hair away from his face. you recall his grape hair from a couple of months back. the colour looked really good on him but at the cost of his hair getting damaged since he decided to diy it himself to prove renjun wrong. he did a pretty good job, though. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. we’re good friends, aren’t we? even if we fight a lot and say that we hate each other and insult each other more than half the time.”

“yeah.” he lets his eyes fall close and you smile. “we’re friends.” your smile quickly turns into a frown. why did he sound so disappointed? you refuse to let your brain wander. there’s no use thinking about it. he’s drunk, you remind yourself. why do you have to keep telling yourself that? why does being so close to him make your heart race a mile a minute?

you choose to spend your energy waiting for him to fall asleep, watching as his chest rises and falls until it moves into a steady, slow rhythm. you quietly call out his name to check if he’s awake. he doesn’t respond. good, he’s asleep.

one good thing about him being drunk is that when he falls asleep, he can easily be mistaken for a dead body. the whole world could be collapsing all around him and he is still sound asleep.as you close his bedroom door behind him, you heard him mutter something in his slumber but you didn’t go back to check on him. you do feel bad for leaving him after you told him that you wouldn’t, but you can’t afford to skip out on the alcohol. you’re not going to leave him in general. after what had just transpired from the time you found him in his trash bag to when he asked you such a vulnerable question, you’re in desperate need to get wasted and maybe get a number to add to your body count.

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

the first thing you did when you woke up the morning after was rethinking your life choices to drink and party until three in the morning. you’re good with alcohol so you didn’t get as shitfaced as you wanted to but it did enough damage to leave you slightly disoriented when the sun woke you up. after you had cleaned yourself up, you headed back to the frat house in donghyuck’s shirt and a pair of drawstring sweat shorts.

so there you are, standing in the kitchen with a renjun who’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and an apron with a very tan bodybuilder’s body on it, making pancakes and hangover cures for the gang. honestly, the main reason why you wanted to spend some time with renjun is to ask him for his thoughts on what had happened between you and donghyuck the night before.

“renjun,” you attempt to call his name and it comes out more nervous than it should’ve. “hyuck kind of uh, said some stuff to me . . . last night. when i um, when i was tucking him into bed.” you grab one of the pancake mix boxes and start to make more pancake batter. your eyes sit on his side profile, waiting for an answer from him but all that you get is a hum to signal for you to continue speaking.

you really hope that you won’t regret spilling your guts to him. it’s noon and it’s way too early for you to be awake, especially after partying and babysitting grown men last night. nobody should be awake other than shotaro but he’s up in his room showering after he helped to clean the house up before you arrived.

you spare renjun no detail, even going back to clip bits and pieces from your past interactions together as proof points as to why his behaviour shouldn’t be so strange yet it only serves to circle back to why his behaviour was strange. he listens patiently to every word, nodding and humming to let you know that he’s still there and his mind isn’t wandering off into some faraway land.

“so, uh, yeah.” you conclude lamely, passing him the bowl of pancake batter that you made while pouring your heart out.

renjun makes eye contact with you and there’s an unrecognisable expression on his face when he takes the ceramic bowl from you. is it disappointment? is it confusion? you can’t tell and frankly, you’re too scared to ask.

“dude, we’ve been over this.” oh god, not this again. “i’ve told you so many times that he’s literally in love with you. and if i didn’t know any differently, you–”

“who’s in love with who?”

speak of the goddamn devil.

“nobody.” you quickly snap and turn around to look at donghyuck. “nobody is in love with anyone.” you steal that opportunity to take a good look at him.

his dark hair is a mess with a cowlick sticking out on the side of his head, and luckily for everyone in the room, he’s wearing a pair of grey sweats instead of waltzing into the kitchen in his boxers. unluckily for you, however, he’s not wearing a shirt. you can clearly see the dips and curves of his chest and the structured v-line that disappears past the elastic of his sweatpants along with the stupid happy trail.

“eyes up here, babe,” he winks at you before walking past, exaggerating the swing of his hips before he gives renjun a back hug. you should seriously punch him right then and there but seeing how he’s most likely dealing with a hangover (and hiding it very well), you decide to be merciful. “my pancake is making us pancakes? how sweet of you!” he presses their cheeks together and you can tell that the victim of his affection is stuck between hitting him in the face with the spatula in his hand or letting him be.

there’s no way this casanova over here is in love with you.

he would probably trade you for a $5 steam gift card. he picks on you and gets under your skin every chance he gets. he’s a damn nuisance and a pain in the ass. he’s loud, he’s throwing you inappropriate jokes every time the opportunity presents itself, and he’s such a gossip. he gives you so many reasons not to even look at him romantically so why the fuck did you get butterflies in your stomach last night?

it’s safe to say that it bothers you to the point where you’ve made it your personal mission to distance yourself from him. you’re doing this as a favour for both of you. you won’t have to deal with these confusing emotions that are stirring within you and he doesn’t have to be so fixated on you. honestly, you don’t even know what he sees in you.

donghyuck, on the other hand, sees this news that someone in your shared friend group is in love with you, as an opportunity to fix you two up together. you can be so uptight sometimes that a good fuck should help you loosen up. that’s what he thinks, anyway.

after he has breakfast and cleans himself up, he sits in his room and pulls out one of his notebooks. he flips to a random page and begins to plot out his game plan to get you a partner. if everything goes well, there’s a confession by the end of the week and if he’s lucky, you might even get a good lay. he’s doing this for your own good, and maybe a little bit of his own, because if you’re not going to look at him like he does, he should at least help the other person.

the first clue that he has is ‘he’. that’s the only clue that he has, really, but it narrows down the list of suspects pretty well. renjun and mark are obviously off the hook since they both have their own respective crushes to deal with. or maybe he can’t really say ‘crush’ for mark since he’s going to attempt to ask them out soon.

he stares at the two names that he had scribbled down: osaki shotaro and jung sungchan.

he sets the scene with you and shotaro sitting next to each other on the couch, laughing and giggling with each other. the transfer student has his arm thrown over your shoulder. he leans in for a kiss and you reciprocate. no. he then pictures you and sungchan next, doing the same things. there’s a pierce in his heart as he thinks of the possibility of you ending up with either one of them because the selfish part of him doesn’t want you to.

he wants you to end up with him. lee donghyuck, the one and only person who’s constantly getting under your skin because he likes seeing the frown on your face and the way you scrunch up your nose in annoyance. the only person who’s willing to spend the extra bucks on renting out a nice, clean car to drive you out to hongdae to eat at that japanese restaurant you love so much because he knows you’ve been stressed off your ass. the only person who showed up at your dorm with your favourite food when you got stood up by a supposed ‘ex’ in freshman year because he knows how it feels to be tossed aside for something better.

lee donghyuck wants to be the one and only person that you hold and kiss and love because he finally got a taste of it last night when he pretended to be too drunk so you could take care of him, and he doesn’t want anyone else to take it away from him.

renjun has told him before that his feelings for you will be reciprocated. he doesn’t understand it, though. if he means that you’re going to reciprocate his attempts at spending time with you, sure. that, you definitely do. he knows that you take extra care of him especially when he’s vulnerable but he’s always surmised that it’s your way of showing affection after calling him silly things like ‘shitty’ or ‘stupid’. he knows that you don’t mean a single word that you say, which is why he loves it so much when you’re both caught in this little game of cat and mouse.

if he means that you’re going to return his romantic feelings for you, he’s not going to believe it at all.

swallowing the ugly feelings that threaten to surface, he shoves them deep down and buries them away, never to be opened by anyone ever. even if he can’t be the one who makes you happy, he sure hopes this mysterious suitor can make you half as happy as you make him feel.

the first person donghyuck has to text is none other than his second beloved anime boy, shotaro. the first place, of course, belongs to none other than his frat brother nakamoto yuta. he quickly searches for his contact and begins a conversation.

his heart stops.

you and him?

partners?

he stares at his texts in shock, watching his message go from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ and a thumbs up appear on its outer corner.

is that what you’ve both looked like to others?

immediately he pictures you on his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder as he wraps one secure arm around your waist. his free hand is yours to fiddle around with, enjoying the sensation of your skin on each other. he immediately recalls the warmth of your body when your back was pressed up against his front last night.

heat spreads from his chest to the rest of his body at the mere thought of being able to have that with you again. if there’s anything he needed last night after weeks of exams and deadline submissions, it’s you. but you arrived late to the party, dressed so simply yet so you manage to look so goddamn attractive in your oversized shirt and jeans.

pause. you were wearing his oversized shirt this morning.

he reels through his mind and scavenges through what he had witnessed in the kitchen when he came down. the first thing he saw was you, standing with your back facing him in his navy blue ncit varsity shirt and his name and number on the back.

donghyuck definitely didn’t feel jealous when you weren’t alone in the kitchen. there was a bitter taste in his mouth when he had eavesdropped enough to know that someone has a crush on you, and it pinched his heart painfully when both you and renjun looked so domestic in the little nook. but it was partly soothed when he saw renjun wearing the abs apron.

right. renjun. he needs to tell him.

it might be the shirt you had stolen from him last night when he had accidentally spilt his drink on you. does his shirt feel that comfortable? does it smell strongly like him?

his heart soars when he realises that you’re walking around campus with his name on you. you’re not his at all—you don’t belong to anybody, in fact—but this little detail has him giggling to himself alone in his room, euphoric bliss filling him up.

now, it’s time for him to figure out who the hell has a crush on you, but he doesn’t know if he wants to sabotage the crush or keep you for himself. he’ll probably decide later on. for now, he just wants to know who.

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

you don’t know how or why, but you’ve come to this one conclusion: you have strong feelings for lee donghyuck. are they positive? sexual? negative? you have no idea. but every time he pops up into your mind unprompted, you feel a very strong urge to hope you spontaneously combust in the middle of whatever it is that you’re doing.

you’ve made it a point to avoid him for as long as you possibly can and in turn, avoid confronting your feelings, too.

every time he texts you to gossip or just yell in general, you do your best not to get pulled in by his theatrics and bizarre storytelling methods. you don’t want him to think you’re ignoring him even though you are, but you’re not exactly the best actor.

still in the festive spirit of being free from the shackles of painful and mind-numbing exams, a sorority is hosting a party. this time, it’s giselle and ningning’s: alpha chi ræd. even today, you still find it a little weird that giselle managed to hook up with her ex-girlfriend who is also her sorority sister.

red, purple, and black. sounds like the standard ræd party. you know that giselle and ningning are going to dress the best that they can and be sirens for the night. it’s a couple of hours away and you’re chilling in your dorm with some show playing on your monitor that you’re not really paying attention to. your ears are cushioned by your wireless headphones, walking around your room aimlessly.

should you start picking out your outfit now? it’s not like you have anything to do, anyway. your eyes flit to the time on your digital clock. you haven’t had dinner and you know better than anyone to drink on an empty stomach. chewing on your bottom lip, you grab your phone and start texting your favourite dinner buddy. his charming smile always gets you extra free food.

after sealing the promise of dinner, you turn on the lights so your room wouldn’t be drowning in complete darkness. you take off your headphones and turn off the forgotten show playing in the background serving as background noise. there’s a strong urge inside of you to text hyuck and ask him if he wants to join you and sungchan for dinner because you know he’s coming over in a heartbeat with the promise of free food.

but you don’t.

you’re not supposed to like him. you can’t. it’s going to ruin the dynamics of the friend group . . . right? you look at your phone, the screen lighting up to display a group photo you had taken together on a trip to jeju and nami islands to pretend to be tourists.

your eyes immediately find where you and donghyuck are sitting on the ground together. his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him with your thigh crossing over his. your hand throws up a peace sign while you laugh, eyes forming half crescents with your hair blocking some of your facial features. his other hand is on your cheeks, thumb and index fingers pressing them together to make you look silly. you can hear his laughter in your ears, beaming ear to ear with a grin rivalling the sun.

behind you both, everyone’s also trying to get someone else to fuck up the photo. renjun was trying to tackle mark onto the ground but he ended up getting piggybacked. ningning has sungchan in a headlock while giselle and shotaro are trying to out-tickle each other, resulting in shotaro almost falling over and tripping on hyuck.

warmth fills you from your core, spreading all over your body as your eyes wander back to you and him.

you can’t fall in love with him. you can’t risk falling for someone like him. not again.

your story isn’t half as sad as donghyuck’s—or at least, you hope it isn’t. you met someone back in freshman year. he’s on the same campus, just a year older but studying at the same level as you are.

it was during your freshman orientation. thinking about it makes you want to barf, really. he’s similar to donghyuck personality-wise and you got along with him extremely well. you could flirt and insult each other within mere seconds and it’ll all be in good heart. over a very fast period of time, he had asked you out on a date.

of course, you said yes. he’s charming, funny, and good-looking—what more could you need or want?

you were too infatuated to realise your so-called relationship was toxic and he was merely using you for a fuck buddy. he didn’t have the emotional availability, the maturity, the seriousness, or everything you needed for a secure and healthy relationship.

luckily you were able to cut ties with him and break everything off before it got any worse. you thought it was your first real relationship while in university but he decided to pull you around and toy with you.

you snap into your senses when your phone buzzes in your hand. your screen lights up with a message from donghyuck.

your fingers move to type an answer out, that there’s no way sungchan of all people would have a crush on you, but there’s a knock on the door with the man himself carrying your food.

#3: HE’S THE WORST AT KEEPING SECRETS

you take a mental note to reply to him later and in that, you’re reminded of the fact that nobody should ever tell him secrets. ever.

there are way too many times when he accidentally spoiled a surprise or ruined something because he gets way too excited. everyone knows how honest he is and sometimes he may slip up in his promise to be honest to everyone around him.

you open the door to reveal sungchan carrying a bag of food in his left hand and another bag that you assume are his party clothes. he’s clad in black slacks and matching dress sneakers, with a fishnet top underneath his oversized white tee. now, you’re kind of excited to see his final look.

“hi y/n, i have secured the munchies!” he greets you with a gentle smile and you invite him in.

“you look excited for the party.” you comment as he sets the food on the low table in the middle of your dorm room. he grins back at you as he begins unpacking while you transfer him however much you owe.

“extremely,” he sighs almost wistfully. “i’ve never been to a ræd party before and i’ve always heard good things. apparently, there’s going to be beer towers and those little shot ferris wheels and an open bar in the backyard.”

you sit down across from him and pull your kimchi fried rice towards you. a soft laugh escapes your lips from his enthusiasm. you don’t blame him. the alpha chi ræd are well-known for their impeccable music, booze, and theatrics. the alpha neos are better known for their vibes and safety.

“well, joohyun’s pretty loaded and so is wendy. it wouldn’t be out of the box for them to throw such fancy parties, especially since joohyun’s graduating top of the class for her master's degree.” you carefully peel open the lid and start to mix your food together as sungchan does the same to his bibimbap.

“speaking of parties, i was thinking that we should throw mark a canada-themed party for his birthday.” he suddenly pipes up, and you cock an eyebrow upward in question at the sudden subject shift. “i mean, obviously we won’t tell hyuck. we nearly fumbled with renjun’s birthday because he got too excited about the project.”

a bright laugh bubbles from the back of your throat at the fond memory. since renjun is an avid movie lover, everyone decided to bring him to a diy drive-in movie. well, less of a drive-in, more of a cinema in the middle of a rugby field.

giselle gave this brilliant idea to surprise him with a short film of their best or favourite moments with him. it’ll of course be concluded with a gift-giving session. in order for it all to be executed flawlessly with no holes, you had to find a way to shut donghyuck up. that meant he couldn’t be left alone with renjun at any given time.

“i still find it hilarious that he almost fucked up the film surprise because he asked renjun to airdrop him videos of the both of them.” you snicker at the memory, remembering how all of you nearly got found out thanks to his slip-up.

“it’s literally so stupid!” sungchan is laughing with you and you can’t forget when mark literally had to throw himself in and save him. “but it’s cute how their dynamic goes. hyuck is the one who lives in the moment and jun is the one who captures the moment. and hyuck is also the one asking jun for said moments when he starts to miss whatever had happened.”

no truer words have been spoken.

“i remember when he thought that mark had a crush on me. he texted it to me while i was hanging out with mark and giselle. we had literally managed to just get more comfortable with each other. god, that was lowkey traumatising.” you shake your head and start to eat your meal before it gets cold. sungchan looks at you with glimmering eyes, obviously intrigued by the idea of you and mark becoming an item (which is never). “why are you looking at me like that?”

“so i wasn’t the only one who thought that way?” he teasingly nudges your knee with his. you groan and roll your eyes at him as he laughs at your reaction. “no, seriously though! i did think that he had a crush on you!”

“for like, the millionth time,” you sigh. “mark made it very clear he was nervous around me because i scared him. i have an aura that’s ‘intimidating’ sometimes, i guess? his words. i don’t know.” you make a non-committal noise and shrug.

sungchan doesn’t say anything, only stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of his food while maintaining eye contact with you. great. another one who looks like he knows something you don’t.

“out with it.” you tiredly beckon with your free hand, eating more of your fried rice.

“speaking of crushes . . .” there he goes again. “. . . what’s up with you and hyuck? he told me that you’ve been kind of avoiding him.”

‘kind of’ is an understatement. you are absolutely, without a doubt, a hundred per cent avoiding him. you just didn’t think that you were that obvious. you didn’t really know what to say so you quietly play with your food, swallowing whatever is in your mouth before speaking.

“i . . . guess i kinda am?” you look at him, obviously unsure. “i don’t know . . . i mean . . . well . . .” you’re racking your brain for some sort of answer but you know that sungchan already knows your answer from the way you’re stammering.

he happily continues eating his food without a care in the world, satisfied with your answer.

“did he do something to piss you off?” he asks but you shake your head. he does a lot of things to try and piss you off but he hasn’t really gone too far just yet. “then what is it? did something happen at our party?” you give him the stink eye when he gets it spot-on.

sungchan straightens his back and leans in closer to you. of course he’s excited when he gets exclusive content. sometimes you can’t help but wonder if hyuck’s love for gossip managed to bleed into the systems of the others. sungchan, mark, giselle and yourself have never been one for gossip but every time hyuck says he knows something and starts sharing, you’d be very much upset if you got cockblocked while he did.

“the only person who knows what happened that night is renjun.” you begin and you do your best to put on a serious tone but with the younger male’s excitement and eager smile, you can’t help but break a small smile, chuckling through your nose. “you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“lips are sealed, cross my heart and hope to die.” you can tell that sungchan is biting his tongue—he has more to say—but he keeps his silence and your peace, urging you to continue. you eye him suspiciously but continue regardless.

so you tell him. you know you can trust him to keep his mouth shut about it but with donghyuck’s persuasive magic that works on everyone, you try to hold yourself back from going down into the details.

the whole time you’re recounting the events of the night for the second time, you’re feeling butterflies in your stomach yet again when you recall his scent overwhelming you in the best way possible. you recall his slightly calloused hands on yours, fingers intertwined; body pressed up against yours so intimately.

sungchan took it upon himself to take your hand and scoop your rice, bringing it to your mouth wordlessly to get you to eat since you tend to forget about multitasking. you nod at him in thanks when he pulls his hand away to let you take a couple of bites and take a quick break from storytelling.

“so yeah.” you finish it off lamely, angrily taking a bite of your rice and finishing it up. “that’s the whole story.”

“you’re in love with him.”

his comment almost made you choke on your food. you manage to save yourself from dying while sungchan laughs at your misery and misfortune, glaring at him while you do until you’re able to calm down. he pushes his bottle of grape juice to you and you snatch it from him, downing the drink until you’re fine.

“what the hell do you mean ‘you’re in love with him’?” you sputter incredulously. your heart is shaking, drumming wildly against your rib cage as you rake your fingers through your hair. you? in love with him?

“why are you like, the last one to know?” he grins knowingly, leaning back on his hands.

“what the hell do you mean i’m the last one to know?!” this time, your voice increases in an octave as you almost shriek your words out. when you realise how ridiculous you sound, you clear your throat and straighten your posture. you’re suddenly reminded of donghyuck’s texts to you. this man sitting across from you does not have a crush on you.

“everyone can see you’re both like, pining after each other in your weird way.” sungchan’s grin grows wider when he’s connected the dots together.

“there’s no way.”

“oh my god, renjun was so right. you do look super constipated whenever you fight it!” your face burns up down to your neck and up to your ears. you have half the mind to throw your dirty takeout bowl at his head. “we need to get you looking absolutely smoking tonight. like an absolute hottie.”

“i’m not dressing like a stripper.” you deadpan him.

like a scene in a coming-of-age young adult movie, he’s dragging you to your closet and giving you the biggest transformation to step into the party looking ‘absolutely smoking’.

the first thing that he pulls out is the very black bustier top that hyuck had said you look really good in. sungchan continues digging through your closet until he finds a maroon leather mini skirt with a split hem that you haven’t worn in ages and throws it to you.

you look at the two articles of clothing, unsure. you turn to look at him.

“trust the process!” that is his favourite thing to say. maybe you will. for the sake of not getting blacklisted to a ræd party.

after you brush your teeth and get dressed up, he nods in agreement when you let him back into your dorm.

“you look so good, hyuck is gonna be all over you tonight!” your face burns up again, your heart fluttering in your chest and you glare at him.

“that’s not the point of the outfit.” you deadpan.

“yes, it is.” sungchan insists, pointing at what should be a dresser but is more of a station for you to get ready and take photos of your outfit. you shoot him a dirty look but make your way over anyway. “you’re going to look hot and irresistible and all eyes are going to be on you.”

“i’m not in the beauty inside.” you roll your eyes and pick up the tools to properly enhance your facial features. he shrugs and moves over to your monitor to play some music for you both to get ready for the party.

you can hear him giggling and typing away on his phone while yours tries to throw itself off your bed from vibrating too hard. so the group is active. you take a quick glance at the clock and it’s ticking down to the golden hour. outside, the sky has already darkened, coating the entire city in an ocean of navy and black with speckles of twinkling stars.

you don’t do too much with your makeup, merely going as natural as you can but you grunge up your look with dark lipstick and highlights where it’ll enhance your best features. it’s a night full of partying, drinking, dancing, and making out with hot strangers. people will most likely be too drunk to think twice about what someone else looks like.

“‘kay, i’m done.” you announce out loud, packing up all of the things you used and storing them away. sungchan helps you onto your feet before stepping back to look at you from head to toe. you watch him cautiously, slouching a little but immediately snap to attention when he sighs and stares at you, silently telling you to stand properly. honestly, it feels like your mom is making you show off the outfit she got you.

he makes a circle in the air with his index finger, wanting you to spin for him. you exhale a heavy sigh but you do it begrudgingly and give him the best model turn you can.

“okay, okay, i see you!” he cheers you on and it gives you a much-needed confidence booth. “alright, let’s head to the biggest party hosted by ræd and get bitches on our dicks!”

“god, you are so weird.” you laugh as you grab a small shoulder bag that’ll keep your necessities safe.

when you’re walking to the party, you’re able to spot the sorority from a mile away. there are bright lights and projections into the sky, music thundering and filling up the empty night air, and bass shaking the ground with more vigour with every step that you take.

you know how big ræd parties are but for some reason, you feel a little nervous. you shouldn’t, but you are.

as you walk up to the door, there’s already a lot going on. people are making out on the front lawn on the verge of having sex in front of everyone, you spot a freshman dressed up to impress talking to a very disinterested person that you recognise to be sunwoo from one of your classes. the corner of your lips quirked upward into a smile. you’re definitely going to find him to tease him about it.

“y/n! sungchannie!” ningning’s voice manages to dominate the blaring music and catch your attention. you turn and see her with a drink in hand and her cheeks absolutely flushed. is that the blush or the alcohol’s work?

she’s wearing a royal purple silk bandana top wrapped around her chest and black low-rise ripped shorts. her indigo heeled boots click against the hardwood floor as she rushes over, dyed hair bouncing in its high pony.

“ning, hey!” you and sungchan both speed up to meet her halfway, passing the threshold and immediately melting into a crowd of chatterboxes, drunks, people making out, and dancers. they’re playing some song you don’t recognise but it’s along the genres of r&b and indie pop so naturally, everyone is eating up what the trendsetters are feeding them.

“you made it and you both look like absolute sluts!” she squeals excitedly, pulling you into a hug and you all laugh together, squeezing her a little before you let go. “the alpha neos are here already, you’re both always the latest!” she chastises but she pouts when she gives you both another once-over. “but you look so good! fashionably late, and fuck, you both look so sexy, i’d make out with you right now.”

“kinda swaying towards the other team right now, ning. if i’m swaying back to how my parents wanted me, i’ll let you know.” sungchan plays along with her faux flirting, throwing a wink her way and she laughs brightly.

“okay okay, go mingle, find a hottie to make out with, i don’t care—have fun! sooyoung put me in charge of welcoming people til like, ten, so i have to stay sober til then. i’ll catch up with you guys later. drinks are in the backyard!” after speeding through her brief, she disappears to greet more people. sungchan and you exchange looks before chuckling.

“alright, i’m gonna go get myself my fix.” you tell him. so there really is an open bar in the backyard like what he said earlier. such a weird detail, but it sure as hell makes the party a lot more interesting.

“sounds good. i’m going to look around and decide what i want to do. i never know how to act at parties.” he complains to himself. a short sigh later and he looks where the sea of people beckons him. “i’ll catch you whenever. have fun and stay safe, y/n.” he gives you one final hug before you both part ways.

after snaking through crowds of dancing people and slinking through dimly-lit hallways with people pressed up against walls to make out or smoke, you finally find the backyard behind sliding glass doors. there’s literally an open bar with a bartender out of a food truck and a pool right next to it. your eyes search for any indication that you’ll have to pay for your drinks as you approach the vehicle and when there’s none, you lean up against the counter and flash your best smile to her.

she notices you almost immediately and smiles back as she makes her way to you. her name tag shines with moonbyul embedded into the silver metal. that’s such a pretty name.

“hi there,” she greets you warmly while setting down the glass that she was cleaning. “how can i be of service?”

“can i have two sour plum shots, please?” you request politely. she nods and starts your order.

moonbyul turns around to grab a bottle and starts mixing the drink for you. you watch as if caught in a trance, her movements fluid like a dance. from the corner of your eye, you thought you had seen donghyuck. a quick second take later and it was indeed him. suddenly you’re praying to all of the gods that you know so he won’t try and approach you. he catches your eye and you quickly turn back to the bartender, hoping she’ll hurry up with your drinks.

in a four-storey sorority house full of partygoers and people hungry for a quick lay, there’s not going to be a chance of you bumping into him. right? even if there is, it’s going to be a low percentage. you take another peek in his direction and someone you don’t recognise is chatting him up and you exhale through your lips in relief.

she returns with two shot glasses full of honey-coloured poison and a smile that could literally charm your skirt off in an instant. for a second, you had almost forgotten about him. what kind of sorcery does this woman possess?

“how much is it? i hope you take bank transfers.” you awkwardly laugh but she immediately shakes her head.

“don’t worry about it. it’s four bucks since you’re cute.” heat rushes to your cheeks and you smile shyly, mumbling a quiet word of thanks as you make your payment. you down the two shots back to back and disappear back into the house. there’s barely any time for your body to process the alcohol and you hope that it’ll kick in as soon as you hit the living room where people are dancing.

you catch a whiff of the cannabis and peach-stained air when you walk through the dimly lit hallway again, letting it fill your body as you begin to feel the slight buzz of your liquor. the first person that catches your eye on the dance floor is giselle. there are way too many people in the living room dancing—there’s no way he’ll find you here.

“y/n!” she slurs the final syllable of your name with a lazy grin on her face. her cheeks are flushed with alcohol as she stumbles to you, pushing through the crowd to pull you in. you gladly allow yourself to be welcomed by her, laughing as she gives you a tight hug. “come dance with me!”

she immediately turns around to press her back against your chest and you put your hands on her waist, laughing with your head thrown back. you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the people you’re surrounded by but you’re immediately getting drawn into this coven of sirens on the dance floor.

the music fills you from your fingertips, bass reverberating in your bones as you let your body follow the groove. giselle grinds into you, surprising you, but you quickly recover and let her do whatever she wants. you quickly recognise the song to be madison beer’s baby, and you’re devoured with a lust to be a little slutty.

someone taps your shoulder and you turn around to find a very attractive woman that you don’t recognise. she offers to dance with you and you quickly agree as her hands find your waist. your hands loop around her neck and you’re pulling each other impossibly closer.

you mouth the lyrics with a charming smile and heavy-lidded eyes, swaying your hips seductively. her dark oculars watch your every move with the corner of her lips curled upwards in a lazy smirk and god, that looks really hot.

in a quest to make her melt, you take advantage of the loosened tie that hangs around her neck. with one hand you pull her towards you until your faces are mere inches away, teasing a kiss before you let her go and turn around instead.

alcohol, power, and confidence surge through your veins with the heavy bass acting as a guide for the intoxication.

“such a tease,” she hums lowly in your ear. a bright laugh escapes your lips, shivering involuntarily as her nose gently glides along your collarbone before pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “you smell so good, too.”

before you can reply, your eyes spot donghyuck from across the dance floor. he visibly lights up when you catch his gaze but you’re stiffening up and immediately searching for an exit. you hate it when he gets like this.

#2: HE CAN GET TOO PERSISTENT

you free yourself from giselle and your hot mysterious stranger, eyes scanning the bodies you’re surrounded by until you find an opening where you can flee. he’s about to make his way to you and that’s when you duck your head and snake your way out.

your heart is beating out of your rib cage as you spot a room with no light on with the door left slightly ajar. without a moment of hesitation, your feet are taking you there and closing the door shut behind you. luckily the room isn’t occupied so you can stay in there for a while.

you stagger slightly in your steps, feeling the gentle buzz of the alcohol underneath your fingertips. a soft sigh escapes you.

there is no way that you can avoid him all night while having fun but there’s no harm in trying. he’s an immovable object but you’re an unstoppable force. you can outwit his unrelenting nature. probably.

what are you even going to do if he finally catches up to you, anyway? the break before summer break has been serving you perfectly when it comes to avoiding donghyuck after that party. however, even as you keep running away from him, he comes haunting you in your dreams and you mean it literally.

you had a dream of him with his tongue down your throat and his large hand shoved into your underwear. when you woke up, you were feeling things. you aren’t supposed to feel anything for him!

needing a quick break, you pull out your phone to check your notifications. unfortunately, even there he’s made an appearance and by the looks of it, he’s not going to go away any time soon. you delete all of your notifications from him in fear you may accidentally press on one of them and then you’ll have to read whatever was sent. and then he’ll start hounding you on why you left him on read.

after exactly three minutes have passed, you take a deep breath and dive back into the party. there’s no reason for you to be nervous. he should be far away from you now, in some corner of the sorority searching for you. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel guilty.

you decide to sneak back to the bar to get yourself another shot or two. the alcohol is good to get you feeling the buzz, but not strong enough to get you drunk. maybe you should have taken four at once earlier.

moonbyul chuckles to herself when she sees you approaching the bar again within the span of an hour. at the very least, you’re glad to see her too. she’s handsomely leaning against the countertop and greets you with a smile.

“welcome back, gorgeous.” she waves before straightening herself and placing her hands on her hips. “i see the sour plum shots barely did anything to you.”

“and if i said i only came back for you?” you flirt brazenly with a grin on your face, watching her features morph as she laughs lightly. it might be the booze but she looks so stunning you’re almost at a loss for words.

“then i’ll get you a free drink on the house because you’re rather eye-catching.” she winks and your plans to be a casanova immediately burn up into flames as your face heats up. “cute.” she mumbles to herself before turning around to make a drink specially for you.

you fiddle with the details on your bag, pinching the fabric as if you’re waiting for donghyuck to literally just show up and you’ll have to face him. you don’t want to. not under any circumstance. you’re not ready for the conversation that comes after, the feelings that may surface after you bottle them up.

your phone starts buzzing in your hand and you see it’s him texting you again. there’s a pinch in your heart and you shove your phone into your bag. you came here to let go; to let loose. you didn’t come here to talk to him about what could possibly be between both of you.

when moonbyul presents you with a pretty glass of a pink drink that is literally glittering, you blow her an air kiss and she winks back at you. you don’t know what’s in it but you hope it’s the right dosage of poison.

you head back into the house and slowly drink it, savouring the taste of the various liquor mixed with fruit juice. it burns smoothly down your throat with a delectable concoction that runs straight to your brain. oh yeah, this is the one.

in the back of your mind, you can hear shotaro and renjun scolding you, telling you to slow down before you fuck yourself over. part of you wants to ignore them but you’d feel too guilty. you love them too much not to listen to them. renjun can get scary when he’s upset, too. a quiet sigh passes your liquor-tinted lips and you ascend to the second level in another feeble attempt to throw donghyuck off your trail.

there’s no direction you’re heading to—you’re just searching for a distraction. you swirl your drink in your hand, letting the music and the alcohol mingle in your veins as your eyes scan the area lazily. one arm extends across your waist, stopping you from pursuing any further and spinning you around to find renjun.

“you’re avoiding hyuck.” that is the first thing that comes out of his lips. his eyes narrow when he sees your pretty glass of poison.

“no i’m not.” you insist with a slight frown. you’re lying straight through your teeth and you both know it.

renjun takes your glass from you and takes a whiff of it and groans at the strong stench of alcohol. is it really that strong? you barely felt anything.

“how much have you had to drink?”

“not enough.” you grumble in annoyance like a kid getting caught stealing cookies from the jar.

“i’m cutting you off.” your eyes widen and you look at him incredulously, ready to protest but his stern gaze makes it clear that it’s not up for debate. your shoulders sink in defeat. he swaps your drink for his and so does his tone for a gentle, kind one. “here, have some water. i heard from ning that you arrived with sungchan almost an hour ago. slow down, please?”

you swallow thickly, bringing the cup to your lips and sipping on the water. you don’t like it but it’s not like you have a choice in the matter.

“fine . . .” you mumble into the cup before taking a generous gulp.

“why are you avoiding him? is this because of what happened at the party?” you’re almost unnerved at how easily he’s able to read you. “you do realise that you are both kind of, i don’t know, you’re both good for each other? in your weird way? nobody understands it but everybody knows it. it’s clear as day, you need to stop fighting it. whatever happened between you and that guy isn’t what’s going to happen between you and hyuck. you know that, right?”

he speaks the truth aloud and it knocks just enough sense into you for you to sober up against your will. you eye him watchfully and he cocks an eyebrow upward.

“god, i hate you so much.” tears threaten to prick the corner of your eyes and renjun chuckles when he realises you’re on the verge of crying. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pack of tissues. you let him dab your tears away carefully.

“yeah, yeah,” he chuckles through his nose. “as big of a house this is, it’s still enclosed by four walls. and you look really good tonight. someone as attractive as you shouldn't be crying at a place like this.”

you glare at him as more tears break the dam.

“oi, why the hell are you crying harder?!” he laughs but you know it’s his way of trying to cheer you up. you break a short laugh in between tears. he’s the only one who knows what happened between that guy and yourself. you didn’t really allow yourself to talk to anyone about it.

when you finally manage to calm down, he gives you a tight hug and you take a deep breath. you’re still going to avoid hyuck, though. you’re not ready to face your feelings just yet. even when he’s not here, he’s still so persistent when it comes to you. you wouldn’t be surprised if he manifested this shit.

renjun lets you go with a pat on the head after you finish the cup of water.

you disappear further into the second floor, in search of something to do, perhaps someone to talk to and keep you occupied as you think of your next move. how long are you going to keep avoiding him? that’s a good question. maybe for as long as you possibly can. it’s a tough game to play especially when your opponent is the ever-so-determined lee donghyuck, but you hope for your own victory.

there’s not much on the second floor besides a communal area where people are in a circle smoking joints and a balcony right behind it where you can have a view of the entire campus town. bummed out by the lack of festivities, you head back downstairs to find someone to bother. you haven’t seen mark, giselle, and shotaro. maybe you should try your luck with one of them.

you find yourself lurking along the walls, hoping that you’ll find someone you recognise so you can say hello to them. the dance floor seems a lot less busy than before so you decide to tag in. maybe that mysterious stranger will come back to find you again.

“y/n?” that’s a voice you never want to hear for the rest of your life. you quickly spin around to see the man who led you on and broke your heart with a charming smile on his face.

there he is, standing before you with the same smile like what happened a couple of years back wasn’t a big deal. you’re not the best when it comes to processing your feelings and just shoved them deep down in hopes you’ll forget, but you never did. how could you forget some of the fondest memories you’ve made in your second year of university?

“song mingi.” you exhale through your lips, eyes wide as you take in his appearance. his hair is dark now, compared to the dyed blond he sported then. he’s wearing a shimmery purple button-up with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and the buttons undone halfway, showing off his physique. you swallow thickly. what do you even say to him?

“you look . . . you look really fucking amazing.” he chuckles through his nose. he gestures to the dancing bodies around you but you can’t find it in yourself to move, to tear your gaze away, to breathe. you’re caught in a spell cast by him years ago, reactivated by his mere presence. “can we dance?”

“i . . . mingi–“ you start to protest, but the words are stuck in the back of your throat as you look back at him all doe-eyed and naïve like you did back then.

“just one dance, please? i want to–“

in the blink of an eye, donghyuck’s scent overwhelms your senses. no longer do you see mingi but it’s donghyuck’s broad shoulders blocking most of your view. you don’t know how he managed to wedge himself so quickly between your bodies but he did, and you finally remember to let go of the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding.

“y/n doesn’t want anything to do with you.” his voice is stern and steady, half an octave deeper than how he usually speaks.

“hyuck . . .” your call for him falls on deaf ears.

“who are you–“

“it doesn’t matter. you’ve dealt your damage.” donghyuck takes the opportunity to grab your wrist gently yet firmly to drag you off of the dance floor. your heart starts to beat rapidly against your chest. “y/n, what were you thinking?” he chastises you as he continues leading you far away from the noise.

he’s speaking to you, probably scolding you for freezing up like that, but not a single one of his words registers in your brain. you’re staring—no, admiring—his appearance, the beauty marks on his face, his dishevelled hair, until you both stop at the end of the hallway on the second floor. at least you know you’ll have some privacy.

“y/n.” he sternly calls out your name and you dazedly snap to attention. “y/n, why have you been ignoring me? was it something i did? something i said?”

“no,” you frown, avoiding eye contact entirely. you start to feel antsy, fingers itching to toy with the hem of your leather skirt.

“then what is it? i don’t . . . i don’t want to stop being around you.” he sounds so dejected with his voice dying out, merely whispering the last part but you catch them as soon as the words leave his plump lips.

“it’s not . . . no.” you’re choking up, obviously at a loss for words. where do you even begin? “i . . . hyuck, you’re always on my goddamn mind.” you blurt out angrily, not even meaning to sound pissed off. but at that moment, you are. you’re burning from the neck up and your hands form fists at your sides. but you’re not angry at him—you’re angry at yourself.

“what?” he dumbly asks as he gapes at you.

#1: HE BROKE DOWN YOUR WALLS WITHOUT YOU EVEN REALISING IT

you hate him so fucking much.

you clench your jaw, grounding yourself before you continue. if you’re going to do this whole emotions thing, you’re going to do it your way. all of your feelings are climbing their way to the top, freeing themselves from the once-unbreakable confines as they race to the back of your throat. you look at him with pleading eyes to apologise quietly before you turn away.

“you . . . fuck, lee donghyuck. do you have any idea what you do to me? you . . . you’re so fucking annoying. you get under my skin. you make me wanna chuck a metal ball at your head half the time.” you start pacing back and forth, sometimes pausing to make eye contact with him before you’re back on your rant. “you’re so insufferable with your stupid comments—you always have something to say. always so fucking loud, always so– ugh!” you throw your hands up in the air in frustration.

“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t realise i was–“

“shut the fuck up.” you snap immediately, turning sharply to him with a pointed finger. there’s a pause and you realise just how livid you sound. you apologise to him softly and drop your hands to your sides. one quick glance at him and it literally breaks your heart. you were supposed to harbour your feelings so it wouldn’t put you both in a bad spot.

you sigh and run your fingers through your hair. so now you’ve done it. you’ve told him how irritating he can be, but you still haven’t told him the most crucial part yet. he’s been looking at you this whole time, waiting for you to continue and clinging on to every word you’ve said as if he’ll crash and fall if he doesn’t. you take a deep breath.

“despite all of that shit you somehow make me . . . fuck, you make me feel happy.” your voice cracks as you turn to look at him. your heart is trembling and so are your hands. “you . . . you make me laugh. you fucking– ugh, i feel safe around you. i can’t even be properly fucking mad at you. i don’t– do you know how fucking annoying that is? i hate you so goddamn much because you managed to tear through these walls i built without even me knowing it. you made your own space with me in my sanctuary and holy fucking shit, i hate you so much because i think i’m fucking in love with you.”

you said it.

“y/n.” he chuckles dryly and reaches his hand out to get your attention. you gnaw on your bottom lips, already stressing out over the word vomit. you desperately turn away and refuse to make eye contact with him. “y/n baby, look at me, please?”

every time he says your name, it’s like he’s holding the weight of a god’s name with it. he says it so softly and sweetly you want to break down and cry because nobody has ever said your name like that before. and the pet name? god, you’re melting but you don’t want to let go. you’re holding on to the last bits of control that you have.

donghyuck steps closer to you slowly like you’re a wild animal cornered by something foreign. he’s calm and calculated with his movements, calloused hand reaching to cup your cheek and you melt at the warmth of his touch, eyes fluttering as you let him guide your gaze to meet his.

“y/n, my angel,” he softly whispers. “i didn’t realise you already feel the same. if i’d known earlier, i wouldn’t have waited so long.” your brows furrow slightly, obviously confused.

“what?”

“i wasn’t sure you’d even look my way, i thought you were just indulging me like everyone else does. when renjun told me what happened between you and mingi, i swore to myself to never let any harm come to you, ever.” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “and fuck, i’m so happy that i make you happy like that. i just– fuck, y/n, you deserve to be happy. you deserve to be spoiled, you deserve to be loved, i can’t believe you closed yourself off because of one asshole. so please, please, i fucking beg—let me make you happy for as long as i can. let me love you for as long as i can. let me be your safe haven for as long as i can because i know i’ll fucking regret it if i don’t.”

“hyuck?” you whisper.

“yeah, baby?” god, you want to hear that every second of every single day for the rest of your life if you could. he notices your obvious reaction to it and he laughs quietly. “you like it when i call you baby?”

“fuck yeah, i do,” you nod. “kiss me.”

“thought you’d never ask.” he grins widely, dark eyes glimmering in pure ecstasy.

donghyuck’s left hand snakes down to your hip and pins you down to the nearest wall as soon as your lips meet. his are just as soft as you’d imagine them to be, the cool metal of his lip ring a stark contrast that sends an involuntary shiver up your spine. he’s gentle as he kisses you, savouring the liquor on your lips as you do his, eyes fluttering close as you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you.

a soft groan leaves his lips when you suckle on his bottom lip and his reaction causes heat to stir in your core. motivated by a hunger to get closer to him, one of your hands reaches down to loop and finger through his belt loop to pull his hips closer to yours. he instantly picks up what you’re putting down, pushing yours closer to his as he decides to crane your cheek to the side.

his lips leave yours and you whine quietly, already missing the mix of hot and cold, but it quickly turns into a sigh of pleasure when he starts searching for your weak spots along the canvas of your neck. within a heartbeat, he finds one of them and he nibbles and suckles on the spot the second he hears you sighing in pleasure again.

“hyuck . . .” you whimper his name and he growls into your hot skin. immediately you feel something poke against your thigh, which sets off fireworks in your rapidly beating heart and a rush of heat straight to your core.

“don’t say my name like that,” donghyuck warns, voice dropping an octave lower. “i won’t be able to control myself if you do, baby.” with the way he’s licking fat stripes and sinking his teeth into your skin to draw out the lewdest sounds from your mouth, you don’t want him to be tame.

you want him to lay his claim on you until the heavens bear both your sins.

your fingers run into his dark tresses, guiding him to the exact spot that’ll make your knees weak. he hums in approval when you roll your hips against his but he grunts when you moan out his name again. the grip he has on your hip tightens as if warning you even more as he continues to discover where to touch, tease, kiss, and bite until you’re putty in his hands.

“hyuck, please,” you whisper in his ear. you’re ready to tease him and push his buttons into getting what you want but he shuts you with a searing kiss, pushing you flat against the wall behind. the mixture of his hot lips and cold piercing sends your head into a tailspin as you moan into his mouth.

“you know exactly what you’re doing when you say my name like that, don’t you?” he brushes his thumb against your cheekbones fondly yet his sweet words betray the tint of condescension that laces his voice. you brazenly grin up at him. of course you know exactly what you’re doing.

donghyuck leads his thumb to your lips this time, tilting your chin up towards his face. he doesn’t hide the fact that his eyes are zeroed in on that feature of yours when you take his thumb past and into your mouth.

his gaze darkens as you generously suck on the digit, tongue swirling around it and pulling it in with every suck. the corners of your lips curl upward into a smirk knowing that he’s doing nothing to hide the boner straining in his pants. you don’t want to wait anymore; not when you can feel heat looking in your underwear until you have to press your thighs together to relieve the ache.

even when he’s entranced by you, he doesn’t let anything slide. the second he notices your plush thighs rubbing against each other, he pushes his knee between and bumps it against your core. you look up at him and he’s smirking lazily at you.

“does my baby need something from me?” you ought to melt right there caged within his arms from the way he purrs the pet name so lovingly into your ear.

“i want you.” to emphasise your statement, you grind yourself down against his knee and a timid moan falls from your lips. “i need you, hyuckie.”

“fuck, y/n,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. both of his hands find purchase on your hips, guiding you as you grind against it, relishing in the friction against his pants. it feels good but it’s not enough—you need all of him. you want him to devour you until he’s coming back for more even after he’s had his fill.

“hyuck, i’m begging you,” you plead in desperation. “fuck me before i find mingi to do it.”

in an instant, you know you’ve pushed the right buttons to get him to act on his desires and throw caution into the wind. he grabs your wrist and immediately finds the nearest open bedroom. you follow dumbfoundedly with your lips parted, entranced with how he switched from being teasing to taking command. it’s kinda hot.

“you’re gonna regret ever saying that, baby.” he warns when he finds an unlocked door, flicking on the light switch. you don’t recognise the room but you’re not given the option to observe when he pulls you in and locks the door as he pins you against the wood, lips finding yours and uniting you both with a hot kiss.

you mewl into his mouth when he takes both your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand, the other pawing at you through your clothes. you had chosen to not wear a bra that night since the top gives enough support and you do not regret your decision at all when he finds your perked nipples to pinch them gently. the contact makes your jaw hang loose with a moan caught in the back of your throat as he slides his tongue in to taste the alcohol that you previously intoxicated yourself with.

your hips find a mind of their own, rolling into his to quietly beg for some friction where your pussy is throbbing for attention.

donghyuck lets go of your wrists so he can make quick work of your clothes, stripping you down until you’re left in nothing but your underwear while he remains fully dressed. his mouth detaches from you and before you can dare to complain, he wraps his lips around a pert bud so he can hear you moan for him. he smiles around your nipple, enjoying the symphony of sweet cries coming from you as he swirls his tongue while one hand takes the other between his thumb and index finger to tug and tease.

“hyuckie . . .” you sigh softly just as your fingers run through his dark tresses to gently pull at them, every little ministration doing nothing to help the ache between your legs. as if he knows that your cunt is feeling neglected, he dives his other hand into your underwear and hums in satisfaction at what he finds. he releases your breast with a wet pop, rising back up to find your lips for a sweet kiss.

“who are you so wet for, hm?” his fingers reach between your lips and you can hear how wet you are, blood rushing to your cheeks at the lewd sound. “is it mingi?” he cocks an eyebrow upward, practically spitting out your ex’s name with venom when he finds your throbbing clit and gently pinches it.

“n-no! fuck, no, never!” you squeal at the jolt of pain and pleasure sending a shockwave straight to your brain. you shake your head to let him know that it’s not mingi, wanting to let him know that it’ll only be him who makes you this wet, but your throat runs dry as soon as he sinks his middle finger in.

“no?” he echoes, slowly sliding his finger in and out of your cunt to watch you scrunch your face up in pleasure. “then who’s it for?”

your eyes flash open when he completely halts his movements. his eyes widen too but in faux surprise to mock you and god, you really want to choke him for that. you’re about to taste heaven but he’s purposely dragging it away from you.

“who’s it for, baby?”

“it’s for you, asshole.” you bite back and this time, he’s truly in shock with his eyebrows raising at your sudden outburst. when it finally registers in your brain what you had just called him, you gasp quietly, ready to apologise but the air gets knocked out of your lungs before you can.

donghyuck’s finger slips from your underwear, hands firm on your hips, and he spins you around to pin you down to the bed. from beneath him, you watch in a mix of trepidation and arousal as he rips the fabric apart with his bare hands. you had expected him to throw it over his shoulders but he pockets it in his pants instead.

“h-hyuck, i-i’m sorry, didn’t mean to–”

a gentle, wet smack against your clit shuts you up instantly. it’s another jolt of pleasure that makes heat rush to your core even more, the sensitive bundle of nerves begging for attention with a soft throb.

“since i’m an asshole,” he begins, licking his lips. your focus immediately zones in on his silver lip ring shining as he gets onto his knees. your gaze flits back to his and his eyes are fully blown with greed and a feral hunger reserved for you. knowing that you have him so worked up like this sends another kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach and they burn into little flames of lust that melt into your body. “you’re not cumming until i say that you can.”

he grabs the back of your thighs and dives into your cunt, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart as he starts to lap at your juices like a man starved. trickles of electricity run up your spine as your fingers fall to his hair, grabbing onto whatever you can as you throw your head back in pure pleasure.

the heavy, wet muscle sharpens at the tip to flick at your clit while two fingers dip into your heat. your body burns, hips lifting off the bed only to be forcefully restrained again by his arms. he curls his fingers as he sets a steady pace to relish in the way your walls wrap around them, wondering just how good his cock will feel when he finally fucks your brains out. you’re not holding yourself back either, tugging at his hair and moaning his name with bits of apologies caught in between stammers but he pays no attention to you.

“fuck, hyuck, right there!” you gasp, clamping down around him when he hooks his digits and his fingertips brush against the spot that calls for your orgasm. he wraps his lips around your clit, suckling gently, and you can feel him smile when a high-pitched moan of his name falls from you. “shit, oh my god–”

he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a rougher pace, making scissoring motions to stretch you out only for your walls to stubbornly tighten around him. a knot starts to form in your belly without warning and you’re now fearing what he’ll do when you’re going to cum. yet that fear turns you on even more, a high-pitched cry bouncing off the walls when he sucks on your clit stronger.

as much as you try to roll your hips into his face to feel him deeper, he pins you in place, not allowing you any movement and you tug at his hair in annoyance. your eyes fall down to look at him and you could instantly come undone from the view.

donghyuck already has his gaze fixed on you, watching your every expression and you melt underneath his hold with a meek mewl. he cocks an eyebrow upward at the same time he harshly suckles on your bud, drawing out a louder moan of pleasure from you. his lips let go of it, choosing to roll his tongue languidly while his fingers relentlessly tease your g-spot.

“h-hyuck, please, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you manage to cry out, the knot tightening and threatening to break free. “i’m gonna cum, please, i need to cum so bad, i’ll be good, i’m sorry!” tears prick the corners of your eyes and he rests the side of his face against the inside of your thigh, pouting in mock pity as he starts fucking his fingers deeper and faster into your cunt.

“aww, you’re gonna cum?” he coos, laughing when you nod desperately and clear drops tumble down your cheeks. he’s such an asshole. you want to take the reins and make him pay for it but all you can think of is how hot he is when he’s mocking you like this. it doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting, your walls from clenching around his digits, and your body aching for sweet release. “i dunno y/n, do you deserve it?”

“yes, fuck, i do, i promise!” your back arches when his fingertips rub directly against your g-spot, fingers slipping from his hair to grab at the sheets beneath you. “please, i’ll be so– i’ll be so good for you, hyuck, i only want you. nobody else, please!”

you’re doing your best to keep your orgasm at bay but he’s pushing you further to your edge to test just how far you can go with a mischievous grin on his face. you hear fabric getting pushed around but you can barely think of anything else when his fingers are toying with your cunt and clit. your orgasm creeps closer and closer, threatening to come apart on his fingers alone but you want to cum around his cock. you gnaw on your bottom lip in an ardent effort to control yourself but donghyuck had other plans for you.

he pulls his fingers from you and immediately shoves his cock into your awaiting cunt.

the stretch burns perfectly as you struggle to accommodate his size, cockhead hot and heavy as it generously kisses your g-spot. that was it. as soon as he sinks himself fully, you’re cumming around his cock with a piercing cry of his name, back arching into the air as your entire body trembles. it hits you like a rippling wave, goosebumps set alight along your arms as you form white rings around him.

“oh fuck, shit, oh my fucking– fuck, y/n, baby you’re so fucking tight.” a slew of profanities tumbles from his lips as he stays completely still, not wanting to hurt you but his thumb taps gently at your clit as he helps you through your orgasm. he waits for you to come down from your high, taking that moment to pull his tie-dye shirt over his head and toss it in a corner to be forgotten.

you pant heavily underneath him, eyes half-lidded as he leans down to pepper soft kisses all over your face. it’s a strange feeling to feel his hot lips against your own burning skin but the coolness of his lip ring manages to give you a small slice of relief. with his clean hand, he pushes away the locks of your hair that block his view of your face, chuckling to himself when you look up at him with pleading doe eyes. you finally have a taste of him and all it does is leave you wanting more.

“did my fingers feel that good, baby?” he hums against your forehead before kissing you. you nod dazedly in reply. your throat feels far too dry to be able to say anything so you do your best by swallowing your saliva. “don’t pass out just yet, pretty. we’ve barely started.”

you whine, throwing your head back from the teasing at the same time your walls clench around his cock from his words. you feel so full with him sheathed fully inside of you, tip kissing the bundle of nerves deep inside of you effortlessly that even the slightest movement can make you squirm beneath him.

“hyuck,” you sigh quietly. your hands reach up to cup his strikingly handsome face, watching closely as he leans into you to kiss you again. god, you’re never going to get tired of his lips on you. you gaze deep into his eyes when he pulls away for air, “make me yours. i want all of you.”

“i’m gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine, baby.” it’s a promise that you know he intends to keep when his lips meet yours once more, hips slowly rolling up against yours. you moan into his mouth, eyelids fluttering shut and you wrap your legs around his torso to pull him closer. he starts to slowly withdraw his cock from your cunt and begin at a slow and steady pace, being mindful of the fact that you had just come down from your first high of the night. “god, i didn’t think you’d feel this fucking tight. you’re so much better than what i’d imagined.”

“you touched yourself to me?” what leaves your throat is a mix of a gasp and a moan, walls stubbornly clenching around him when he pushes himself back into you.

“how could i not?” donghyuck scoffs through his nose. one of his hands snakes between both your bodies as he languidly thrusts in and out, rolling your clit underneath his thumb so your slick will lubricate his cock as if you’re not already soaking wet for him. “you’re the person of my fucking dreams. remember that shirt of mine you stole recently, baby? yeah? i came so hard when i fucked my fist wishing it was your tight little pussy.”

you whine at his words, images of him touching himself in his room to the thought of you appearing in your mind so clearly that your walls clamp around him. he starts to speed up while he searches for the right angle that’ll make you scream your lungs out for him.

“yeah? y’like that, baby? love the way that i touch myself to you like a damn pervert?” he punctuates the last word with a particularly harsh thrust upwards into your pussy and you gasp for air, eyes rolling back and toes curling in. “right there?”

“fuck, yes!”

he throws one of your knees over his shoulders and steadies himself at a comfortable position. he withdraws his cock from you until his cockhead is barely wrapped by your twitching hole before he starts to fuck into you. his name is ripped from your throat as he sets a brutal pace, hips pistoning in and out mercilessly, tufts of trimmed hair rubbing against your clit. you’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm and you know it’s not going to take too much for you to cum again.

beads of sweat drip down from his hairline, sliding down to his chiselled cheekbone to fall onto the sheets beneath you. you feel every thrust deep in your stomach, getting absolutely drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you up and stretching your walls beyond comprehension. every harsh thrust and drag of his cock in and out of your cunt sends you closer and closer to the edge as tears spring from the corners of your eyes.

“does my cock feel that good, baby?” donghyuck croons sweetly.

“yeah, s’fucking good,” you slur dazedly and hope that it makes even an iota of sense to him.

“mingi won’t ever be able to fuck you like this.” he growls and suddenly his thrusts are getting rougher. you guess that it’s motivating him further to plough into you, bed creaking with every light bounce of your body underneath him. “nah. he’s never gonna make you scream like i do. he’s never gonna treat you half as well as i do, isn’t that right, pretty baby?”

tears flow down your hot cheeks, blurring your vision but you can see how his teeth toy with his lip ring, equally agitated and pissed that you’d been treated badly. you mewl his name weakly to try and snap him out of it but he doesn’t hear it at all. instead, he readjusts your position.

donghyuck presses both your knees to your chest with his hands, mounting the bed and achieving a higher angle. you look up at him, anticipating his next move. all he does is give you a sweet kiss on the forehead and a playful smirk before he’s snapping his hips against yours again. the new position allows him to reach deeper than he previously did as he looms over you with a satisfied grin on his face, watching you writhe underneath him from the pleasure that overwhelms you.

“nobody’s gonna fuck you like i do.” he wraps his fingers around your throat and presses down at the right spots to restrict your airflow. your head falls back as it only emphasises how every touch lights your body on fire, every rough thrust rendering you speechless and all you can do is gasp and moan and whine for him. “yeah? am i fucking my pretty baby so good they can’t even speak?”

you try to say his name but all that comes out is a croak that barely resembles it. when he releases your throat, you almost whine out at the loss but you’re not given the chance. his hand snakes between your connected bodies to roll your clit under his thumb, eager to encourage your orgasm.

“you look so pretty when you’re all fucked out, baby,” he coos sweetly. the combination of his cock drilling into you mercilessly and fingers working to toy with your sensitive bud sends your head into a tailspin. a familiar knot forms in your lower belly once more and you can tell he’s chasing his own orgasm. all that fills your mind is how good his cock feels deep inside of you and how you want him to fill you up til you’re leaking. “so, so damn pretty. an absolute angel looking like this underneath me, i could fuck you all day and all night now that i have you. i’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine and i’m yours, i’ll make sure any person who even thinks inappropriate things about you, i’ll fuck you right in front of them to make it clear that you’re not up for grabs.”

his words sink into your skin and you melt but your walls flutter around him which makes him laugh dryly.

“fuck, you’re so naughty. you clenched around me when i said i’d fuck you in front of others.” you whine, head tipping back as your orgasm creeps closer. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you? should’ve known you’re a nasty whore but that’s okay—i know you’re only a whore for my cock, angel.”

“‘m gonna cum, hyuckie!” you gasp, back arching as the knot tightens further.

“yeah? i’m close, too.” he pants hotly from above. “go on and cum around my cock, baby. make a mess for me, yeah? prove to me that i’m all yours.” the pet name is all that you need to come undone.

this orgasm hits you harder than the last, hot white spreading all over your body as your shoulders stiffen up. his thrusts are getting sloppier as he chases after his own high, cussing and whispering your name between grunts and groans.

“shit, i’m gonna cum–”

“inside!” you quickly capture his attention. his lips part but you continue before he can speak. “cum inside, i want to feel all of you, hyuckie.” with the gentle rasp in your voice and the pleading look on your face, he curses and a high-pitched moan is caught in the back of his throat as he spills his hot seed inside of you. his hips stammer and come to a still, groaning your name with his lids squeezed shut.

“fuck . . .” he gasps and wraps your legs around his waist so he can lean forward. your trembling hands reach up to cup his face, smiling fondly as you bring him in for a sweet, chaste kiss. “why’d it take us this long?”

“i wanna blame my emotional constipation,” you joke lightly and he laughs through his nose.

“it’s one of my favourite qualities about you.” donghyuck nuzzles his nose against yours, stealing yet another kiss from you. “do you know whose room we just fucked in?”

you blink blearily and look around as you tug him down so you can both cuddle for a bit. he follows your lead and slowly pulls out but quickly panics when his cum starts leaking out.

“oh fuck, i shouldn’t have ripped your undies for souvenir–” your realisation dawns upon you like a bucket of cold water when you finally recognise whose room this is. you start to smack his arm repeatedly while you hurriedly try to get onto your wobbly feet. “baby, what’s the rush?” he quickly catches you when you almost fall, failing to see what’s causing your state of alarm.

“we’re in ning’s room!”

“oh, shit.”

thank you for reading the first installation of the series BEFORE THE LAST FLOWER BLOOMS. if you enjoyed it, i would love to hear your thoughts in reblogs, comments, and / or chat about it in my ask box! check out my other works or the bonus piece while you wait for the next installation, I KINDA WANNA BE YOURS.

#lee donghyuck smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #hua writes #h.dream #h.donghyuck #h.smut #h.fluff #╭ ❝ series ❞ / before the last flower blooms

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4izawas · 6 months

Text

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. // “If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: my hero academia | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shouta aizawa/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 9.30k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, previously established relationship, jealousy, canon typical harrassment, heavy miss joke bashing, death threats, fem reader, villain reader, possessive reader, reader is just a bad person chat idk what else u want me to say, discussions of trauma ( but aizawa refuses to call it that ), morally ambiguous aizawa, ngl he’s also not a great person but he’s hot so it’s okay, villain/hero, femdom, maledom, teasing, biting, nipple sucking, oral sex, slight choking, switch reader, switch aizawa, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, tit slapping, spitting, creampies, daddy kink, marking, hickeys, also a cat, tko = tofu knockout, class 1-a are little shits.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: kinktober fourrrr !! hnngggg aizawa is always a must <33 and ngl? fucking hate miss joke so we gon bash <3

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

“C’mon, Eraser, just one date! Just one!”

“No means no, Joke — we’re in the middle of a fucking job, so leave me alone and do your part,” Shouta mutters just loud enough flr her to hear with nothing short of sheer annoyance in his voice as he overlooks the streets and back alleys surrounding a building in east Fukuoka just past midnight that night. The Smile Hero, Miss Joke, stood at his right shoulder; due to a necessary team up at the request of the Commission upon Hawks’ request for backup to assist in breaking up a newly discovered human trafficking ring, the duo were paired up and sent to the rooftops for out-of-sight assistance, where Eraserhead could use his quirk without the risk of interruption as the team below entered the building.

Well. Almost without that risk.

“Oh, don’t be that way, Eraser, at this point us meeting up all the time’s gotta be fate!” she laughs quietly, grinning brightly at him. He grumbles a little to himself, but doesn’t turn away from where he was glancing around below for any threats that could potentially fall upon the strike team moving through the halls of the building, their locations revealed by the large windows.

More of Joke’s chatter drones on in his ears, and Shouta fights off the annoyed growl that threatened to escape him; why couldn’t it have been Hizashi he was paired with so he’d have backup? At least Hizashi knew how to be quiet and professional, what with his hero persona just being a face for the public — and it wasn’t as if Miss Joke didn’t know how to do her job, she actually did it very well, she just ceased to properly function whenever he was a part of the picture for some reason. Hizashi and Nemuri had both thought it was funny at first, but that was years ago, before it had become an actual problem.

Shouta tenses up when an overly-familiar hand squeezes his shoulder, and he grits his teeth. “Stop touching me,” he snaps lowly. “For God’s sake, Joke, be fucking professional.”

Miss Joke sighs. “I never see you outside of the rare team up for work, Eraser, what do you expect?”

“I expect you to keep your hands to yourself and for you to do your job,” he says coldly, shaking off her hand. She sighs again, this time in a more dramatic way.

“Nothing’s gonna happen up here!” She mutters, “We’ve been up here for an hour. They aren’t going to patrol this area, and if they weren’t we should have moved.”

“This is the best vantage point for me to see as much of the building as possible,” he replies, silently relieved that she’s actually discussing the job and not some aspect of his body.

A groan follows his words, and then a startled curse. He turns in time to catch sight of her grappling with a much larger man with a fly mutation quirk, something he couldn’t cancel. Spitting out a curse of his own under his breath, he leaps into the fray to help as three more men starm the roof. “Neither of you should be up here!” One snarls. “This is private property — you’re trespassing.”

“Shut up,” is all Shouta says, and the fight starts. He leaves Joke to the man with the fly quirk and takes on two of the three other men, the third standing back and watching as Shouta doles out his fair share of bruises while receiving plenty of his own. Once he’s almost completely handled his pair, he sees the third guy make his move from the corner of his eye, his musculature growing as he activates his quirk. Activating his own, Shouta turns his body to brace for the impending impact that would come with the guy jumping at him. A low grunt escapes him as the air is knocked out of him, and as he locks eyes with his new opponent he distantly hears Joke let out an angry shriek after likely taking a particularly harsh hit. One of the guys Shouta had been fighting had abandoned him to go join the fly guy in fighting Joke, so she likely had her own hands full and wouldn’t be able to help in any way — not that he needed it. The only really talented fighter out of the four enemies on the roof was the last man to join the fray, and Shouta could handle him. With a few skillful throws of his capture weapon, Shouta’s more or less finished up his end of the fight.

A sharp cry from Miss Joke practically yanks his attention from his opponent so he can look at her, and he finds her on her back against the roof with one of the men with their thick hands around her throat; she’s clearly struggling to breathe. The other man is unconscious, but unbound. A tiny shot of worry races through Shouta’s veins.

The brief moment that he’d looked away was more than enough for the unnamed enemy to re-engage his strength quirk, and the man burst from the slightly loosened confines of Shouta’s scarf, throwing his entire weight at him. With a surprised shout, he’s thrown faster than he’d expected over to Joke. The man on top of her leaps to the side just before Shouta slams into her, and for a moment the world turns end over end before they’re falling from the roof of the ten story building.

It takes a second for Shouta to right himself, but before they hit the ground he’s able to wrap one arm around Joke while the other throws his scarf at an overhang on the building he’d been scoping. It catches as intended and they drop to the ground safely, Shouta stumbling a little with the added weight of Joke clinging to him. He can hear the men on the roof opposite them snarling angrily, fixing themselves up and shouting threats against their lives. While they do, the team that had rushed into the building begins filing out, handcuffed traffickers in hand and victims being led out by a few officers. The shouting on the roof silences almost immediately.

“You alright, Eraser?” It’s Hawks that asks after appearing over his left shoulder with a bound, angry looking man in hand and dangling as the massive red wings on the pro hero beat against the air; the Number Two tilts his head to the side slightly in curiosity while his golden eyes flash in concern as he asks.

“On the roof,” is all Shouta says, getting straight to the point. “Four men, all working for the ring inside.” Hawks’ pupils narrow to sharp slits, and a dozen feathers zip into the air and over to the roof Shouta had nodded his head towards. Loud yelling and shouts fill the air, followed by shrieks as the feathers binding the men bring them down to the ground. They’re quickly apprehended by the police force assisting the pros in the bust, and all at once the entire event is over. The human trafficking ring that Shouta himself had been focused on bringing down for nearly four years now was destroyed, and all current victims were safe.

He wishes he could sigh in relief, but there’s an annoying weight on his shoulder.

“Get off of me, Joke, the danger’s over and this is incredibly unprofessional,” he growls, noticing the way people were staring; he rubs at his eyes to soothe the ever-present burning that came with his quirk use, especially now after the USJ incident; the scar on his face aches at the memory.

“But something could happen!” Miss Joke exclaims, clinging tighter to him and looking up at him like what he’d said was crazy. “More could be waiting — and I haven’t even gotten to make you laugh yet or agree to that date.”

“You won’t get to do either, now get the fuck off of me!” He snarls, practically tearing her from his side and stepping away. She looks hurt, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was done being nice — clearly it wasn’t working.

“But Aizawa—!” she starts to whine, but he cuts her off.

“It’s Eraserhead. You have no right to call me anything else.” With that he storms off, disappearing into the darkness of a nearby alley before making his way through the shadows. All he can think about is the shower waiting for him when he gets home and how filthy he felt having Joke’s hands on his chest and shoulders. It’s why he’s taken by surprise when a heavy figure pushes him into the wall and binds his hands with his own weapon.

Instinctively he struggles, snarling out a quick threat before the familiar scent of a perfume he’d bought himself reaches his nose, and he relaxes.

“Evening, Eraserhead,” you murmur lowly, eyes narrowed in displeasure as you look over him, and inwardly he groans. Judging from the tone of your voice, you’d seen all of Joke’s behavior, but had heard none of what he’d said. You had to have been out of range.

It didn’t surprise him; Shouta knew you were fond of keeping a watchful eye over him or Hizashi or Nemuri whenever on of them was on a mission like this. You’d have accompanied any of them, Shouta especially ( and tonight of all night most definitely ), but that would have been a foolish decision on your part and everyone who knew you personally would not have been pleased with any possible outcome that followed.

A known villain like yourself would have been swiftly arrested by any police officer or pro hero that didn’t know your civilian identity — and only the three aforementioned people did.

“It isn’t what you think,” he says tiredly, and a bitter laugh escapes you. Shouta winces; you were hurt.

“Isn’t that what they all say?” you ask coldly, and Shouta does not reply. He’s too busy staring at the slight tremble in your chin and the way your eyes are getting slightly wetter.

God. Joke really did have to fuck up everything.

He sighs. “I mean it. It isn’t what it looked like.” You look at him, pondering the denial; Shouta wasn’t a liar. Not once throughout the years you’d known him had he lied to you, even when he’d been after you to arrest you before the two of you had started dating.

Fine.

You narrow your eyes. “Talk.”

So he does. He admits to the harassment, to Joke ignoring boundaries and not caring about how many times he’s requested she leave him be. He talks and explains and confesses to things he’d kept secret from you for years, and it takes over half an hour. Over the course of his explanations, the grip you’d had on him goes from a deadly one to one so loose he can barely feel it. The spots would bruise, but he’d wear them with pride as he did any other marks you gave him; you’d not meant to hurt him, and he’d be damned if he let you get into your head about how tight your grip had been.

By the time he’s finished, you’re shaking — not from the cold, he knows, but from ill-concealed rage.

“So you’re telling me that you told her to get off of you and to stop touching… and she didn’t?” Your face has been swiftly schooled into an impassive blank canvas, a look he hasn’t seen in years and therefore can no longer read. Hesitantly, he nods, and your eyes flash with an anger he’d not seen since Nemuri was kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring three years back. “And this has been going on for years, but you haven’t told me until now because you thought it would strain the relationship.” Another nod. Your eyes narrow. “Noted. She’ll be on the news tonight.”

You release him from his binds and disappear, scaling the wall and racing across the rooftop. Shouta barely has time to think, but he doesn’t have to in order to follow you, quickly catching you and standing in your way of getting to Joke’s usual patrol route.

“No, you can’t kill her. Not tonight,” he says warningly, and you look angry.

“You told her to stop and she didn’t. You've told her to stop for years. She doesn’t listen, and she thinks it’s okay. Heroes won’t ever do anything, Shouta, you know that.” The venomous tone you’re sporting is unmatched, and if Shouta hadn’t known you as well as he does, he’d think it was aimed at him; thankfully he’s known you for years. That being said, he did know that, and honestly it stung a little.

“I can handle it tonight.” The poison in your voice has transformed into the thickest, most sweet honey as you tempt him. Your eyes are soft, your gaze gooey and only possibly described as sticky sweet. “It could all be over, baby — she’d never bother you again.”

It’s tempting. More tempting than a pro hero should ever allow — but Shouta’s never been the kind of man to balk in the face of the wicked and condemn them for their actions without thought. He was not a good man, and he doubted there ever was one — he was kind, he was wise, and he was gentle when required, but if he was as good as society deemed the word, he would have turned you in five years ago when the two of you met and he’d captured you after you’d murdered three men. Instead he’d been attracted to you, and a game of cat and mouse had started between the two of you that only ended when he’d caught you again and taken you in an alleyway.

“That’s wrong,” he murmurs, hands shaky as his heart rate quickens; god, you were so fucking sexy when you promised to murder for him.

“I never implied that it was right,” you admit casually. For a moment silence stretches out between the two of you, Shouta once again pondering the offer you’d made, then he shakes his head again.

“No. Not tonight. I don’t feel like scrubbing blood out of the bathroom again,” he says tiredly, and you pout.

“It’s never usually mine,” you grouse, crossing your arms and turning to look away.

“And you know how happy that makes me,” he replies warmly, “But I want to be able to hold you and go to sleep tonight without the looming pressure of scrubbing the bathroom in the morning; you know how Hizashi is with blood, and he wanted to go out for breakfast tomorrow before work.”

You let out a wordless grumble, still not looking at him. He searches what parts of your face he can see with the angle you’re turned, and jumps a little when you look at him with nothing but promises of death in your eyes as he lets you push him against the wall again. “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back.

“If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you,” he promises while pressing slow kisses along your bare skin, biting at your neck and drawing a whimper from your lips. He grins against you. “Go back to the apartment and let me finish my patrol so I can get the hell home and fuck your dumb little brains out, kitten.” A shaky moan falls from your lips and you push your ass back against him.

“Or you could just fuck me here?” you offer hopefully, your eyes glittering darkly with a newfound interest he knows all too well. “Please Daddy, I’m so wet for you-” A sharp smack to your ass makes you cry out.

“You fuckin’ heard me, brat — go home.”

With a growled huff, you tug yourself free from his grip, still pouting. Shouta raises an eyebrow; your next move was yours to make. Would you defy him and go after Joke, or would you listen and go home? Either decision would be preferable, and if he was honest he wouldn’t mind you doing what you pleased to Joke tonight as long as you didn’t track blood into the apartment, but why would he admit that now?

You huff again, and promptly disappear into the inky blackness — away from the direction of Joke’s patrol route, and Shouta barely fights off an amused chuckle.

You always were such a good girl for him.

When Shouta finally gets home at half past four, the apartment is dark. He can smell the scent of food from his favorite takeout place, though the initial strength of it is soft and faded, and the soft hum of the television in the bedroom keys him in on where you’ve retreated to. Toeing off his boots, he wanders into the bedroom, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes in the sight of you curled up in the bed you shared with him, surrounded by pillows with the little grey cat you and he had taken off the streets curled up in your lap, dozing. Shouta sighs; as calm as he was now, Shouta knew damn well the little monster you’d for some reason named Tofu was going to slap him for no fucking reason later, so he thanked whoever was listening that the little guy was napping right now so he could take a break and wash off all the filth from tonight’s bust and patrol.

He wanders into the bathroom, stripping down to the clothes he wore beneath his hero uniform and kicking the black mass of cloth towards the laundry hamper; the urge to piss was far greater than any need to pick them up off the floor right away.

After finishing up, he hops into the shower, eager to rid himself of the grime he’d collected overnight, and once he’s done he makes his way back into the bedroom, lazily toweling himself dry before moving to the dressed to pull out a pair of sweatpants.

“What are you watching?” he asks you quietly as he puts them on, and you shrug.

“I don’t know,” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?”

“No, I haven’t been paying much attention,” you admit quietly, gently playing with Tofu’s tail; he keeps dozing, unbothered. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”

Suddenly the warmth Shouta had felt like he’d sucked in from the shower disappeared, leaving him cold and nervous. You’d had several hours to think about everything he’d told you, and he worried that you were mad at him now. Admittedly he’d technically lied for a long time, keeping secrets from you and not telling you how he felt about Joke for years, so he really couldn’t blame you for being upset with him, even just a little ( or a lot ). The only comfort was that you were still here — because Shouta knew you. If you were going to leave him, you wouldn’t have been in the apartment when he’d returned. Just like you’d first entered it all those years ago, so would you leave it should you choose to abandon the relationship: quickly, silently, and without any reasons to raise suspicion.

Thinking about it, Shouta didn’t even know if you’d take Tofu if the two of you separated. How would that work?

“We aren’t separating, and I’m not leaving you,” you say tiredly, and Shouta fights off the urge to kick himself; he’d spoken out loud without meaning to.

You sigh. “That being said, I do want to know why you didn’t tell me.” Shouta tries to repeat what he’d told you, but you look away. “The truth, Shouta. Not the excuse you made before.”

Silence.

It takes a moment, but finally Shouta just drifts to the bed and sits down on his side with his back to you, looking down at his hands. “Shame,” he finally whispers, and you look at him with a confused gaze. “I just… how could I admit that I couldn’t get her to stop when I’m a pro hero?” Your eyes turn soft and understanding, and he continues in a tone of disgust, refusing to look at you. “I feel so weak. I’m a grown man and I couldn’t fucking stop her — I can’t stop her. I already know the next time we cross paths she’ll be the same. Nothing will change, and I’ll always be… stuck.”

A second silence overtakes you both. You say nothing, only watching the way his shoulders have a slight tremble, before moving Tofu and kicking back the thick layers of blankets, crawling on your hands and knees over to him. He doesn’t look up at you, still staring at his own hands as you cup his head in yours and move his head up so you can see his face.

He still doesn’t lock eyes with you.

“Shouta,” you murmur softly. “Look at me.” He makes no attempt to move. “Please?” He does as asked, and you smile softly. “There’s that handsome face,” you murmur, your voice as warm as his morning coffee, and he scoffs.

“Don’t coddle me,” he mutters, and you grin, not missing the way his lips quirk up in a soft, blatantly fond smile.

“If I don’t, who will?” you ask teasingly, and his tiny smile widens ever so slightly. You grab one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you sit back on your calves, and your sweet smile twists. “Besides, haven’t I made it obvious to you? You’re mine. Nothing’s gonna change that, Sho, and no one is going to be able to take you away from me.” A murderous gleam flickers in your eyes, and Shouta finally looks up at you just in time to catch it.

His shoulders droop as he relaxes, his muscles losing the tension he’d built up tonight. Somehow, despite the very clear ( though unvoiced ) notion of just what you could and would do if someone tried to take him from you would normally frighten someone else, he felt at ease.

His eyes close and he relaxes into your touch as you creep close again, this time straddling his thighs while holding him close; he lets his head fall to rest on your chest, and he sighs from the comfort. “Do I need to spell it out?” You whisper softly to him as you lean down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his stubbled jaw, your hands roaming over his shoulders in a way that has him tensing up for an entirely different reason.

“Maybe — Maybe you do,” he whispers shakily, tilting his head just enough for you to get to that special, ever-so-sensitive spot that you knew had his cock twitching. You laugh softly, your teeth lightly scratching along his heated skin, and he shakes a little as he fights off the urge to move.

You gently push him back to rest against the stack of pillows you kept on the bed, and his head falls back in pleasure as you purr out a warm, gooey, “M…” against the base of his throat. Laving your tongue across the skin there, you feel him swallow hard, and you laugh lowly again, your voice thick and sweet like syrup as you continue with a simple, “I…” before moving down to his chest. From the corner of your eye you see one of his hands fist in the sheets, and you fight off yet another chuckle as you slip your way down his body before stopping at your next target: one of his dark, hardened nipples. You don’t hesitate to take it into your mouth, your hot tongue circling the sensitive flesh in a way that has his upper body trembling. It presses hard into the soft, wet pad of your tongue, and the breathy sighs falling from his lips as you lavish it in attention while twisting the other amuse you. Grinning slightly, you take it between your front teeth and tug at it a bit, relishing the sharp whine and stuttered moan he lets out from the feeling; his chest had always been so sensitive. “N,” you say, drifting down yet again. Your fingernails dig ever so slightly into his skin and follow the rest of your body down, scratching across his sensitive nipples and leaving him whimpering louder than before. You finally still before your prize, thick and heavy and hard and hidden from you, and you breathe out a wanting, “E…” as you curl your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and pull them down slowly to reveal the tip of his dripping cock.

Eyes glittering eagerly, you draw his sweatpants down further, releasing the rest of his length as well as his balls, and you gaze at the way it bobs up to slap against the skin of his stomach. His balls are fat and heavy, and you swallow the drool that’s accumulated in your mouth before taking his cock in one hand, slightly turning your head to the side, and tracing a thick line from his balls to his drooling tip with your tongue. A choked noise is ripped from his throat, and you press your tongue against the sensitive spot under his head and lap at it softly before purring a pleased, “Mine.”

It takes a moment, but as his thighs tremble around your head and his breathing gets heavier and heavier, Shouta finally manages to reply. “Yours,” he whispers, and your grin turns wicked with anticipation.

“Yeah, you’re all mine,” you murmur to yourself before taking his cock into your mouth again, this time sucking lazily at the tip until Shouta’s shaking. Looking up at his messy figure above you, you soak in the picture of his heavy breathing and his squeezed-shut eyes as he falls to pieces beneath your touch. Splaying out your fingers, you run your hands across his thighs as you work your way down to the thick, dark curls around the base of his cock. Your fingernails scratch at his sensitive skin, and his thighs quake as you finally fully nestle his cock in your throat, your nose buried in his pubes. He’s clean, as always, and he’s used your favorite body wash; Shouta lets out low noises of pleasure as you slowly begin to bob your head along his length, sending it down your throat then pulling off it all over again until he’s sitting up, his stomach rolling ever so slightly as he stares down at you while panting.

“Fu-uck, wait, I-!” he moans, instinctively bucking up into your mouth. You laugh a little around him while languidly sucking at his cock, and he groans deep and hard from the feeling of the vibrations before fisting his hand around your throat and tugging you up. “Y’gotta — Y’gotta stop, I’ll cum,” he grunts, holding you up by your neck. You use one thumb to swipe at a smear of pre on your cheek before sticking it in your mouth to suck it clean.

“That’s the point, Sho,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I want it.”

“And you’ll get it,” he replies with a growl before yanking you up so you’re laying on top of him before rolling you over onto your back with him hovering over you. “Only you’ll be taking it in this tight cunt of yours, so I hope you’re ready.”

He watches the way your pupils blow ever so slightly, and his tongue darts out to wet his slightly chapped lips as you gaze up at him with soft, gooey eyes. With a grin you ask, “Well Daddy? I thought you were going to fuck me?”

A warm hand comes up and gently grips the column of your throat, and your eyes widen slightly as Shouta leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you really want to tempt fate tonight, sweetheart?” he asks coldly, a wicked smile on his face, and your legs spread a little in response.

“I don’t feel anything,” you purr teasingly, “Don’t tell me it’s already in?”

Without warning, his free hand claps down onto your already sensitive pussy and you let out a choked howl, eyes wide with surprise. During your quick reaction he’d buried his face in your chest, sucking and biting at whatever he could get into his mouth as the hand that had just slapped your cunt gently begins to toy with it soothingly, cooling the stinging and causing a tightness to start building in your belly.

Shouta was no stranger to the sweet spots scattered across your body and eagerly took advantage of each and every one, biting down on sensitive flesh as his fingers gently eased inside of you and began feeling around inside — teasing, of course, considering he knew where the most sensitive spots were inside of you and he purposefully kept himself from touching them. His thumb runs rough, lazy circles on your clit, and you start rolling your hips up into his hands as he worms his way down the bed, finally releasing your throat. You’re practically dripping now, a small wet spot forming on the sheet below you as your juices roll down past his hands and the curve of your ass to puddle on the bed before soaking onto the fabric. Shouta bites aggressively at your inner thigh, and you whine sharply and reach down to take his hair in your hands, tightly fisting your fingers in it as you needily tug his head toward your center. He just laughs and shakes you loose, slapping your thigh to usher a new cry from your lips before taking his thumb off of your clit so he can use his now free hand to slowly play with the sensitive bundle of nerves and focus his other hand entirely on fitting a third finger inside your sopping wet hole, watching greedily as your cunt swallows them up.

You’re openly moaning now, sharp cries and whimpers falling from your lips as he curls his fingers and starts playing with an especially swollen, especially sensitive stretch of flesh inside that has you nearly writhing. You can’t stop yourself from rutting your hips up into his touch, however, when that free hand starts making hard, fast circles over your clit at the same time as his curled fingers piston in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace that has you wailing. “O-Oh god, Shouta, please!” You faintly hear him let out a breathless laugh, but you’re too busy gripping the sheets with one hand and your pillow with the other while thrusting your hips in time with each borderline violent press of his thick fingers inside that you barely even make note of it.

“C’mon now, sweetheart, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls lowly, an excited glint in his eyes as the sounds of your cries changing in pitch signals that you’re about to cum all over his fingers. God, he wants to lap it up like a cat drinking milk; tasting you was always a favorite pastime. He rolls his hips against the mattress, grinding his aching cock between it and his hips and chokes down a shaky whine of his own as spikes of pleasure shoot through him. “Gonna cum for Daddy?”

“Yes! Yes! P-Please, Daddy, let me cum!” you beg shrilly, your entire body shaking. “Please, wanna cum, gotta cum, feels s’good-!”

Shouta knows that if he looked up at you he’d see little tears beginning to gather along your waterline, glittering in the low light like the most precious diamonds, and the thought has him groaning and grinding against the bed harder. “Y-Yeah,” he moans lowly, “Cum for Daddy, baby, cum for Daddy…”

Your cunt tightens around the three fingers he has buried inside you up to his palm, and he replaces his hand on your clit with his mouth, roughly sucking and lapping at it in a way that has you screeching. Your legs fly up to lock around his head and he lets them, enjoying the tight squeeze of both them and your cunt as you fall apart in his mouth and on his fingers. “That’s right, sweetheart, just like that,” he moans into your pussy, licking up all of the shocks of wetness that had started dripping down his hand as you came.

Above him, you’re in tatters, your entire body trembling in a seemingly never-ending spasm. Your eyes have rolled back, and you thoughtlessly clench your thighs around your boyfriend’s head as a means of keeping him in place, desperate to keep coming until you’re screaming. “G-God, oh god — Fuck, Daddy, p-please-!”

Shouta groans into you like a drunken man into a half-empty bottle, and slowly eases up on the movements of his fingers as your thighs slowly loosen. He doesn’t stop circling your sensitive clit with his tongue, though, until you weakly push him away with one foot. Finally he comes up, though, hair wild and face from the nose down soaked in your cum. In the faint light from the television his chin shines, and your heart thumps heavily in your chest as he climbs up the bed as well as the length of your body before slotting himself between your legs, pressing his wet mouth against yours and initiating a heated kiss that leaves you own taste smeared across your lips and in your mouth. His stubble scratches across your cheeks and chin roughly, and you moan into his mouth from both the feeling as well as the feel of his tongue in your mouth.

As the two of you kiss, you allow your hands to wander across his chest and shoulders and around his waist and back, feeling the way he rolled his hips against you and ground his hard cock against your messy cunt and loving it. With each rough rut the head of his cock caught on your clit and left you a moaning whore beneath him — as if he was much better in his place above you.

“Lemme fuck you, please,” he begs weakly, rutting against you desperately, “Please, please — God, I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, sweetheart, please-!”

“Y-Yeah, fuck me!” You gasp, “N-Need it, Sho, need your cock!”

“Fuck yeah, gonna fuck you so good — God you’re so fuckin’ wet, so perfect…” Shouta rambles, fumbling with pressing his cock inside. Gone is the sadistic man who’d lain between your legs taking you apart, and in his place is a man who had already fallen apart at the promise of getting to force his cock inside.

Sitting up, you watch as he uses one trembling hand to press his cock against you, letting out a whimper when it pops inside. The following roll of his hips that buries his length to the base inside you has you letting out a shaky cry; you let your head fall back onto the pillows, your thighs trembling as you boyfriend pulls out then presses inside all over again, quickly building up a rhythm that has the headboard banging against your wall hard enough to have the decorations hanging on it start to shake. In the back of your mind you thank anyone listening that no one had moved into the apartment next to yours yet, and felt a little guilty for whoever would inevitably take up the space.

“F-Fuck — oh god, Daddy, please-!” you whimper, letting out a shriek as a hand cracks across the fat of your tits, the sensitive flesh stinging sharply as tears spring up in your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks in a never-ending river showing off the pain and pleasure Shouta was putting you through. The feeling of his cock inside of you leaves you trembling, the heavy drag so fucking good and perfect. It leaves you so very full and pleased that when he roughly fucks against your cervix it punches a sharp gasp out of you, the feeling lmost too much alk at once. You cry out for him, a soaking mess, and he moans into the base of your throat as he keeps his quick pace steady and rough, using your cunt like the little hole of his to fuck that it is and seeking his own pleasure like a starving man does food.

“Oh god, Sho, please!” you wail, tits shaking from each brutal roll of his hips. You throw one leg over his waist as he grunts into your throat, and he wraps an arm under it and hoists it over his shoulder, the position only serving to allow him to bully his cock even deeper inside than before. Tears spring up in your eyes as his head slams against yet again against your sensitive cervix, and you could almost swear that he’d have worked his way into your womb with how rough he was being if that had been possible. Unfortunately it wasn’t, and when he laughs at the fucked out expression on your face it just triggers full tears, which well up quickly in your eyes becore beginning tk roll down your cheeks and temples, fucking ul your makeuo in a way you know will drive him fucking crazy.

“Th-That’s right baby, cry for Daddy!” Shouta moans, gazing down at the tears and mascara streaking down your face hungrily, “What a good fuckin’ girl, crying on that dick — feels that fuckin’ good, huh?”

Your nails dig into his back, scratching near-bloody lines across his skin as you struggle to hold onto him; he growls with each deep scratch. “Y-Yeah!” you sob, trying to speak but unable to get much out as he practically destroys you. “F-Fuck, Daddy, c-can’t think — it’s too hard, too hard to th-think when you’re mixing up my insides-!”

“You can take it,” he growls in response, eyes and hair wild as he starts losing himself to the pleasure. “You can fuckin’ take it, can fuckin’ take this cock — c’mon baby, you’re my good little whore, aren’t you? Gonna take this fat fuckin’ cock like a big girl and milk me dry?”

You wail, completely overwhelmed in only the best way as that ever-familiar knot begins to tie itself up in your lower belly, nodding wordlessly as his thrusts just get rougher and rougher. Your jaw falls open from the pleasure, you eye crossing and eyelashes fluttering, and he spits a fat glob of spit onto your mouth and watches gleefully as you immediately swallow it down. His own eyes roll back at the sight coupled with the sudden feeling of your pussy starting to clench, and he moans out a low, “That’s it sweetheart, cum again for me — cum again for Daddy, cum on my cock!” and relishes the sharp sobs you let out, your pussy spasming around his thick lemgth nd your body shaking in his grip. You cling to him, desperate and needy, and he groans hard as his pace gets messy and loses fluidity as he gets closer and closer, then finally starts cumming.

“Oh g-god, oh fuck-!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shuts as he fucks intk you messily, filling you with rope after rope of thick heat until he’s left twitching weakly inside of you. He eases to a stop and the two of you lay tangled up like that for a moment before he carefully pulls out. A mixture of his cum amd yours pours out of your hoel, and the sight makes his spent cock twitch twice before he uses the same fingers he’d used to stretch you open to press it back inside once, twice, then one more time, less coming out each time before he stands on shaky knees and starts slowly working his way to the side of the bed to walk to the bathroom that stops with your hand curled around his wrist.

“S-Stay,” you whine plaintively, a soft pout on your face and tears still in your eyes. “Don’t go, stay.”

“I gotta clean us up, honey,” Shouta murmurs softly, eyes fond and warm, and he smiles slightly when you shake your head and deepen the pout.

“No. Tomorrow.” Your voice leaves no room for argument. “Stay.”

With an affectionate sigh, Shouta nods. “Okay. Tomorrow,” he murmurs, getting back in bed with you. You both worm your way into comfortable positions under the blankets and slot yourselves together, content to cuddle until the two of you fell asleep and inevitably drifted to your previously appropriated sides of the bed.

The television, still on, drones monotonously in the background as the two of you lay there together, some late night program that neither of you care about playing as you bask in a shared afterglow. Shouta loves moments like this; they’re always so soft and perfect in ways he never thought he’d get — and yet here you were.

He snatches up the remote and changes the channel a few times before finally muttering to himself and turning it off completely. His stomach grumbles a little, and he considers running to the kitchen for his food, but decides against it until you gently prod him away.

“Go eat,” you mumble, having heard his stomach. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

He huffs out yet another fond laugh and pads into the kitchen, followed swiftly by Tofu, who had long since disappeared from the bedroom when their ‘activities’ had started. He grabs a fork while passing the silverware drawer then reaches the fridge and opens it, searching through it lazily for a moment before finding his containers of takeout and snatching one up, digging into the chicken pasta hungrily. Several sharp pricks tickle against either side of his left ankle, and he nearly drops the container at the slightly painful feeling before looking down.

“Tofu, you fucking bastard, let go of my fucking ankle!” he hisses, and the cat looks up at him through wide eyes for a second before turning and biting the back of his ankle hard. “You fuckin’— get off, you little shit!” The cat just growls around its mouthful of his Achilles tendon, and Shouta shakes his leg a little to try and loosen it to no avail, ultimately tossing his food back in the fridge after shoving several more bites in his mouth so he can reach down and snatch up the furry attacker. The cat writhes in his grip, but Shouta refuses to let go and eventually the tiny bastard goes limo in acceptance, and Shouta gets to go back to his food. The cat swipes at a thick piece of chicken, but Shouta puts the fork out of reach just in time. “No fuckin’ way; maybe if you’d not been a little asshole you could have had some, but you decided to be a little shit and bite me. No chicken for you, and I’m telling Mom.”

The cat meows plaintively, and Shouta shakes his head. “Nope, face the consequences of your actions and suffer.” A screech from the cat gets no response, and Shouta quickly finished up his pasta before tossing the box in the trash and closing the fridge; he had more food, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat them right now, so they could wait until tomorrow.

He pads back into the bedroom, finding his sleepy girlfriend scrolling through her phone through half lidded eyes. He drops the cat onto the bed and it sprints to her, curling up at her hip on her side of the bed, and he says deadpan, “Your little monster ambushed me.”

You scoff playfully, picking Tofu uo by the armpits and shaking him ever so slightly. “Tofu would never, he’s just a baby,” you purr, laughing a little as he bats at your face with nothing but fluff — a literal sharp contrast to how he’d dug his claws and teeth into Shouta in the kitchen.

“He’s got you completely fooled, I can’t believe it,” Shouta says, shaking his head and smiling as he climbs into bed next to you. You press close, craving the feeling of his skin against yours, and he worms around until he’s comfortable. A simple silence falls between the two of you, Shouta melting into the mattress just like he’d craved since the night had started.

You’re the one to break the silence.

“I hate her,” you mumble quietly, drawing invisible pictures on his bare chest with your index finger. You hear him hum in acknowledgment beneath you, then one of those big hands cups the back of your head.

“I know you do,” is his reply, and you sniff a little and nuzzle closer to him.

“It isn’t fair,” you pout. “She gets to put her hands all over you even though you don’t like it and no one bats an eye, even when you ask her to stop.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he croons softly, trying to calm you down from the inevitable fit you would have, but this doesn't comfort you. “I have you to make it all better.”

You push yourself up some so you can look at him, your lip jutting out in a vicious pout that he’d already heard in your voice. “You shouldn’t have to handle it, Shouta,” you say seriously. “She should fucking listen when you say no.”

Shouta just nods. “I agree,” he replies gently. “But she won’t change. We both know that.”

You shrug. “Then she’ll die,” you say simply, eyes dark and filling with the beginnings of bloodlust. Shouta hums a little yet again and seemingly ponders this, then nods again.

“…Hmm. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me,” he says simply, clutching you tightly. You scoff.

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

“I wasn’t giving it,” he replies, recognizing the teasing tone. He presses back into the mattress with a sigh and allows all the tension to leave his body, relaxing into the bed he shared with you. You nuzzle against him again, and he hums happily at the contact and closes his eyes as the smoky edges of sleep flicker around in his mind. He can feel one of your hands playing with his hair, your fingers running through it and gently working out the knots.

God, he was exhausted.

“Sleep, Sho,” you murmur softly, pressing one hand to his cheek. He smiles faintly and leans into your touch as you smile back at him tenderly, and everything fades into a blissful silence.

A weight on his chest and a soft paw slapping his nose is what rouses Shouta from the deep sleep he’d been in, and he blearily opens his eyes to the sight of Tofu sitting on him smacking him across the face — just like every morning.

Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat?

Shouta groans and sits up, stretching and ignoring the annoyed mrrp! his cat lets out when forced to hop down. Glancing to your side of the bed, he smiles softly at the sight of you with wild hair and drool dripping down your chin with one hand thrown over your head, and he leans down and nuzzles you affectionately. You hum softly and slowly blink awake, your first sight of the day being him bumping his nose against yours.

You grin. “Hi,” you whisper, and he grins back.

“Hi,” he murmurs, and you giggle. You glance at the clock and then smile eagerly, a sudden lusty look in your eye.

“Think we could have a quickie this morning before you go to class, Sensei?” you purr, and he groans and lets his head thump against your shoulder, closing his eyes.

“If you were anyone else, that wouldn’t have been so fucking sexy,” he mumbles, and you giggle before pressing a quick series of kisses to his stubbly jaw.

“Well, Sensei?” you ask playfully, and he looks at you with dark eyes. “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?”

He grins wickedly and doesn’t respond, instead jumping you and pressing you into the mattress. You accidentally let out a gleeful shriek as he begins to lave open-mouthed kisses across your skin, suckling at your skin long enough to leave marks alongside the bruises from last night.

He pulls away, lips slightly swollen, and locks eyes with you, smiling breathlessly. “I’m gonna take you apart,” he says proudly, and over the next hour he does just that before padding off into the bathroom for another shower, leaving you spread out on the bed with a racing heart. Your entire body feels like a bowl of mush, and as the sounds of him showering in the bathroom reach your ears you groan, forcing yourself to move. You’d wanted to make him a bento this morning, and you damn well were going to.

It’s done by the time he leaves the bedroom, fully dressed in his hero uniform, and you’re resting on the sectional with Tofu dozing on your lap and one of your several computers on hand. Shouta doesn’t want to know what you’re looking at so excitedly and pointedly ignores the screen as he dips down and catches your lips with his, kissing you deeply.

“I’ll see you tonight, I don’t have patrol tonight,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again. You smile softly and nod.

“Okay hun. Oh, and don’t forget your lunch on the kitchen counter!” youncall, and he grunts a response. He heads to the kitchen and grabs his keys and a coat as well as his capture weapon, and during all of this Tofu wakes up. The cat darts off of your lap and into your kitchen and then, judging from the choked screech your boyfriend lets out, proceeds to jump the man and start biting.

“Fucking why, Tofu?!”

You giggle softly and call the cat, and the little menace bounces back to you as if he’d not done anything wrong, curling up in your lap and starting to purr happily. Shouta grumbles the entire way out the door, and then he’s leaving, and you’re still giggling. Hizashi was at the door, ready to grab breakfast with Shouta as expected, and he calls out a quick greeting and says ‘hello’ to Tofu before setting out with your boyfriend, letting the house fall silent.

You grin and get back to work.

Hours later you’re hungry, so you put your… less than legal work to the side and head to the kitchen, leaving Tofu asleep on the couch. As you go in, you pause, glancing at the end of the corner of the kitchen counter where the bento you’d made Shouta sits. At first you’re annoyed, but then you grin; he must have put it down in the struggle for his life when he went head on against the cat.

Grabbing a pretty pink and white handkerchief, you wrap the large box up so you can hold it by handkerchief loops and begin making your way to U.A. School, buying yourself lunch along the way ( Because honestly? You deserved it. ). It takes around an hour, but eventually you make it, and after a few more minutes you manage to weasel your way inside and begin your trek through the halls to Class 1-A’s room.

Ahead of you is a familiar white bundle of fur wrapped up in a small suit, and you giggle softly to yourself. “Hello, Nedzu!” you greet brightly through a grin that mimicked a shark's predatory smile. The stoat ahead of you freezes, then turns quickly and responds in kind, his small black eyes shining darkly as the two of you — a frequent pair online when it came to tearing down certain aspects of hero society — coem to meet in the hallway.

“Hello! What brings you to U.A. today?” he asks kindly, walking beside you as you continue on your way, and you laugh genuinely.

“Shouta forgot his lunch at home, I was just bringing it to him,” you explain with ease, and he nods.

“Oh, how kind!” he replies, and smiles again while narrowing his eyes. “Though next time we will have to get you a security access card; it won’t do to have unannounced guests slipping in and out of the school!” Though the two of you could be considered ‘friends’, the slight warning was clear; while he wasn’t upset with you for coming in, he’d have preferred to not have a weakness in security that you could take advantage of enough to enter the school undetected.

Oh well. He’d patch the ‘hole’ and you’d find a new way to worm yourself in until the security system was sl tightly woven a drop of water couldn’t seep through. That was the entire purpose of this game, after all.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” is the only response you give, and it seems to please him enough. The rest of your walk to Shouta’s classroom is spent in interesting conversation, various subjects coming and going until finally you reach the classroom door.

“Well, this is your stop!” Nedzu says brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you!” you call kindly as he disappears around a corner, and you knock then enter.

All eyes lock on you as you come in, and out of all of them the only ones that don’t shine with confusion are your boyfriend’s. He stands from his chair and strides over to you quickly, an eyebrow raised, and growls quietly in a tone many ( but not you ) would consider harsh, “Now you know damn well you aren't supposed to come here — do you realize how many people there are here who could identify you?”

You just smile brightly. “You left your bento on the kitchen counter!” you say, and he pauses for a moment and looks down at the pink bundle.

“…Oh,” he mumbles simply, then nods. “Thank you, then.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile, and he turns to put it on the desk then pauses. You tilt your head to the side curiously, still ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on the pair of you, as he turns around.

“How the hell did you get in?” Shouta asks, both curious and confused, but you just giggle and give him a quick, soft kiss on the lips.

“That’s a secret for me and Nedzu to know, honey,” you say sweetly, then disappear out the door. Aizawa stares after you, then sighs.

“Well fuck,” he mutters. “That’s a match made in hell; god, why did I introduce those two to each other?” He turns and faces the sea of children he’d momentarily forgotten he had, and freezes. For a moment he fears they’ve recognized her, but then he registers that all twenty of his stupid children are grinning like the little devil spawns they are, and he fights off the urge to groan. “Why me, god?”

“Aizawa-Sensei has a girlfriend!” Ashido shrieks excitedly, and his entire Hell Class devolves into excited banter and rambling, endless questions pouring his way from all twenty, even the handful he trusted to be the quiet ones.

“Why didn’t you tell us about your girlfriend, Sensei?!” Ashido asks, mimicked afterwards by nearly twenty voices.

“Is she our new mom?” Kaminari asks, glancing at Kirishima through a grin that was brightly returned. The entire class giggles at the question.

“Sensei has a girlfriend! Sensei has a girlfriend!” comes a random cheer from seemingly nowhere, likely Hagakure, and Shouta collapses into his chair with his face buried into his hands as twenty voices pummel him with question after question and the shrieks never end.

“This. This is why I never told you,” he grumbles in response to Ashido, and the entire class devolves into more giggles and talking. Shouta sighs; it was only Monday.

This was panning out to be a long week.

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