#mid term test

[spokenwordplaypodcastcommunity]

How To Cope With Stress and Test Anxiety Before or During Mid & Final Te...

[devvinn1ie]

accidentally took a short break from tumblr lmao. I was staring to run out of things to post, but its fine since I have some stuff now! Today, I am offering you Svtfoe fan art (star butterfly)! tomorrow? who knowd

I recently took the time to rewatch the whole series. i realized I actually didn't remember much about this show (despite drawing fanart before and owning one of the books?), so I rewatched the whole thing very thoroughly. After finishing, I wanted to draw some fanart, thus this post

it took me a while to actually draw something for the acc that I'm super proud of. like this look really good??? the bg isn't much, but like everything else kids eats. the hair. THE HAIR OMG. if I'm good at anything, its rendering hair

some thoughts from the insta post regarding the show:

The ending??? I thought it was too much of a sweet ending. If all the magic was destroyed, there be no more portals connecting all the dimensions, but like there was one last portal that connected Mewni and Earth, and then it exploded, combining them??? It feels like they wussed out of separating Marco and Star. Its kinda giving Tpn ending lmao. It would be a sadder ending, but it kinda makes more sense yk

The final arc was ??? and the reason it was caused is even more ??? Bro they ruined Moon wth

Unlike a lot of other people, I enjoyed the overarching story that came later in the show. But I think it was more because I was really interested in lore

I lowkey didn’t care about Starco

Star is probably my favorite character. She undergoes some neat development as the show progresses. I even made her a mii on my Tomodachi island. Her mii is a cutie patootie

^^^ Despite all those nitpicky things about it I still really enjoyed the show. Id totally recommend it

[safwunnz]

guys I will just actually kms- I’M SO UNHAPPY WITH THE DTIYS I’M JUST ACTUALLY REDOING IT-

all those 6 hours, 36 minutes, and 27 seconds wasted 😔😔

[sweet-child-of-night]

this is me if you even care

[o2studies]

༻`` 9 Feb 24 — Friday

100 days of productivity 40/100

Today was my last day before mid term break!!! I've got a lot of homework and notes to do plus coursework bit I'm quite excited to start it.

Today was a half day and I went to town with some friends for lunch (had some bagels) which was really fun and I came back to school to help with an A Level options evening which was also surprisingly fun.

I started reading over a chemistry textbook today and read a bit of my book. I did feel overwhelmed with a situation that will happen in the future but for now I'm chosing to worry about that later, and am focusing on getting back some structure, discipline and good habits.

Oh and also!! I got an A in my chemistry class test!!!! My other class tests for math and physics were C's and D's (coming from someone who got A's and A*'s in her GCSE's) so this was really relieving and gave me hope for my studies.

[kotohq]

pls do wind breaker fics pls 🙏🙏 there’s literally none out there 🥲🎀🎀.

CURRENTLY WORKING ON ONE RN BABES DONT WORRY 🤞🤞🤞

[djtommotomlinson]

its my birthday tomorrow. we’re going to have indian food tonight. then we will go forth to karaoke and i will sing one direction/solo one direction songs until everyone is sick to death of me! my friend reckons he found a ktv with the new fall out boy songs too and we are so ready 

[thisismenow3]

We need people bringing this kind of energy to school board meetings every time. To organizing for candidacies, hell, being the candidate to try to make this shit change. Cause we got here cause neoliberal Econ mindset helped kill the idea of a 4 day work week long after full employment/job guarantee was killed and then our society ran so far the other direction that school has to be more than 8 hours (many kids are in before and after school programs cause their parents have to work). So we can start making k-5 or k-8 or k-12 fun, we can start making it have more useable information for their current and future lives. But the amount of time it is will remain the same until we unfuck the undemocratic nature of work and become a hell of a lot more progressive/leftist on labor policies. That sounds like it’ll take a long time, right? Well, both things will. We can bemoan what schools have become but we need to use that to motivate ourselves to fight for it to change. Otherwise, what’s the fucking point?

[lumi-istortured-byengstars]

1st osce tomorrow and I'm still trying to balance grinding for Hiiro's vermillion card and practicing :"vv

[asegbolu]

First Term Examination Questions Security Education Primary 6 First Term Lesson Notes Week 12

First Term Examination Questions Security Education Primary 6 First Term Lesson Notes Week 12: Examination of Topics Covered in the First Term Instructions for Teachers: Ensure Integrity: Make sure the examination environment is free from any form of cheating or malpractice. Explain the importance of honesty and fairness to the students before the exam starts. Prepare Materials: Provide all…

[khanger]

@shahdhatem is the one responsible for her family campaign that has been made in March 13th and sadly still have not reached the mid way point and @shahdhatem trying to balance surviving under a genocide and boost her family campaign and study for her online upcoming tests we need to 20k by the next Wednesday please I want my friend to live to experience life she only 20 years old and she full with ambition and dreams to open her dental clinic and be an author that she dreamed to become since she was young please help my dear friend and sister shahd reach her goal and evacuate safely from Gaza.

Vetted by Nabulsi

Donation Link

$17,323\$20,000 (8 September)

$2,677 Away From short-term goal

TAGGING FOR REACH

Message me for removal

@opencommunion @heliopixels @schoolhater @neechees @beserkerjewel @brutaliakhoa @deepspaceboytoy @kibumkim @rhubarbspring @lesbianmaxevans @malcriada @turian @appsa @neptunerings @vampirevoice @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @buttercuparry @captainsaltymuyfancy @timetravellingkitty @socalgal @xinakwans @kahin @anneemay @halalgirlmeg @userpeggycarter @brokenbackmountain @decolonize-the-everything @mothblossoms @dlxxv-vetted-donations @dykesbat @victoriawhimsey

@dirhwangdaseul @cruzwalters @gabajoofs @transmutationisms @greenmossyrock @northgazaupdates @feluka @irhabiya @steep1253o @determinate-negation @deathlonging  @briarhips @mazzikah

[gxtzeizm]

dah laa daripada aq tengok race baik aq siapkan aq punya soalan revision lecturer aku bagi...dah bosan aq tengok

[hivemuthur]

Request: something with sex pollen or accidental aphrodisiacs (science experiments?). And not like dubcon. More like Viktor/Reader have unconfessed feelings and apparently one or both of them needs to be drugged and desperate for sex to get them out. Idk if it’s your thing but I’d be interested to see your take on it.

I remember the evening I got this ask. I was like yesss and my friends gave me the look, you know?

Unknown Variable

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! sex pollen, but I've managed to plot it up a bit. From warnings: unsafe sex, rough sex, lots of fluids, brief mentions of experimenting on animals. The substance here is based on how fentanyl works, sort of :') I had to make myself a loop hole for something I wanted to write for the longest time :v

word count: 4,5K

author’s note: Freaktor Nation, how we feeling? Thank you for granting me another porn-writing fiddler milestone Anon :') beautiful artist behind the cover is @petitesieste 🖤

—

Your idle hand plays with the pendant of your necklace while the other scribbles down notes from the last test. Another miss. And life goes on in pain.

Finding a medication that alleviates pain without an endless list of side effects has been Sisyphean work, to say the least. Every time you think you’re close, something immune to compromise pokes its insistent head through the crack you’ve made in the never-fully-open door to the human pain receptor map.

To be honest, your ambitions to cure pain have long been tempered. Now, it’s merely about making it less relentless—offering people who struggle with it a brief reprieve, something to make it manageable. Not that Viktor was your inspiration, but he is a constant reminder of why you should keep going when every trial eventually turns to dust.

"Why do you insist on keeping such thorough documentation of the rejected ones?" The said reminder peeks over your shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek.

You huff, masking how startled you are, and mutter, "Of all people, you shouldn’t be asking stupid questions."

"There is no such thing. Only stupid answers," he counters, eyes still glued to your notes. "It’s a very noble goal, you know, but you might have to come to terms with the fact that a complete erasure of pain may simply be impossible."

"Again. Of all people, you should not speak of the impossible, Viktor," you smile under your nose and turn your head just enough to see that he’s smiling, too. A jest.

"I'm only teasing you," he hums, reaching out to point at something on the page. "This… is not bad. Persevere, you will get there."

His fingertip lands right next to where your hand has frozen mid-writing, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his palm. For a brief moment, you allow yourself the illusion that Viktor is doing it intentionally. But the thought vanishes as soon as he straightens and clears his throat.

"I'm not sure I will continue with this one," you admit, tapping your pen against the page. "It gets rid of skeletal pain but gave my rats a headache to die for."

"Oh, no, no." Viktor shakes his head, eyes still scanning your notes. "This one, you shouldn’t abandon. Perhaps just tweak it."

"Tweak it?" You scoff, slumping back in your chair. "Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tweaked it?"

"I can only imagine," he replies with a wry smile. Then, after a beat, he leans in again, tapping a precise point on the intricate web of chemical formulas—lines and hexagons scrawled across the page. "I am no chemist, but this… just tickles the wrong part of the brain. Make it tickle the right one, and it might actually work."

It’s hard for him to mask the undertone of hope lingering in his voice. Hope that you will find the answer. Hope that your relentless pursuit of relief for those who suffer will finally bear fruit. And, if he allows himself a moment of selfishness, hope that his own pain, the dull ache that never leaves him, might one day be eased.

But there is something else, something unspoken and far less rational. Viktor has always found himself drawn to you, not just in admiration for your intellect, but in the way you work—how you lean too close to your notes, muttering under your breath, the way your fingers absently play with whatever they can find when you are deep in thought.

Since the early years at the academy, he has enjoyed working by your side more than he would ever admit. When your paths eventually diverged—yours to chemistry, his to engineering—he felt the loss more acutely than he had expected. There was pride, of course, in seeing you forge your own path, and such a noble one at that. But the empty spaces where you used to be, the missing sound of your voice arguing a point over some formula or blueprint, left a quiet ache that he did not know how to soothe.

Sometimes, when the solitude stretches long enough, he allows himself the indulgence of believing he was your inspiration. That some part of your devotion to this research, to this particular pursuit, was born from those long nights spent together over textbooks and dimly lit workbenches. But the thought is always fleeting, because minutes later, you will wave a dismissive hand at him, shooing him away to his own lab with a teasing remark, and he will remind himself that he is a fool for entertaining such notions.

It is not as though there have been no opportunities. There have been moments—unguarded, lingering occasions where it might have been easy to reach, to say something, to step beyond the line of friendship. But somehow, the time was never right. And so, this one thing, he never felt like he could touch.

You blink a few times, scrunch your eyebrows, and hum. The pen gets trapped between your teeth as you pick up the sheet and bring it close to your face, as if looking at it from a smaller distance would somehow make it clearer.

“You know, you might be right,” you finally say in a tone that suggests Viktor is never right.

A chuckle rumbles out of him. “Unthinkable,” he snorts, leaning on his cane and offering you a smug, satisfied grin.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be so pleased with yourself,” you chide, but the corner of your mouth betrays a smirk. “Thank you. I must ask you to leave me to be a genius now.”

“Ah, there it is,” he sighs dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Served my purpose, and now I’m being unceremoniously chased away.”

“Don’t sulk,” you tease, waving him off as you set the paper back down. “I’ll even put your name in teeny-tiny little scribble on the leaflet.”

“You spoil me,” he deadpans, shaking his head as he turns to leave. He pauses by the door, glancing back at you with an affectionate smirk. “Fine. Let me know how it goes.”

Before you can say, “You’ll be the first one to know,” Viktor is already gone, the door swinging shut behind him. You give yourself a moment to rub the stupid feeling of light-headedness away from your temples before setting back to work.

What was meant to be a small tweak stretches into hours. Then days. Then, after two weeks, as you stand in front of the blackboard, the realisation you hadn't anticipated settles over you. Whatever you’ve created will inevitably end the already miserable lives of your test rats. Other than that, the medication looks as ready as it will ever be.

You could wait, of course—gather a group of willing human test subjects and conduct the trial properly. But let’s face it—you’ve waited long enough. And it’s right there.

Your jaw aches from hours of clenching, your sleep has been erratic at best, and now, to top it all off, a dull pain throbs in your tooth. You could just check. Worst case? You die. And if that happens—well, you won’t care anyway, will you?

As for the side effects? Manageable. Irrelevant in the grand scheme of the doctor-patient relationship. So yes—it seems you’ve very much done it.

The sun sets at some point while you debate with yourself—to drink or not to drink. When you finally do, all your hesitation, all your pain, the aches and nagging little pokes you hadn’t even realised were there—vanish. They melt into a feeling of softness and lightness, enveloping you in a warmth that feels almost like a gentle embrace.

Your fingers flex as if testing for any lingering pain, but there is none. Even the dull pressure behind your eyes from lack of sleep has dissolved. A laugh bubbles up, unbidden, and you press your palm over your mouth, giddy with disbelief. It worked. It actually worked.

Then, just as quickly, your thoughts snap to Viktor.

You scramble for your notes, knocking over an empty vial in your haste. Ink smears as you flip through your pages, but you hardly care. Grabbing one more vial—just in case—you cork it tight and shove it into your pocket. You need him to see this. Now.

Your heartbeat pounds as you rush out, barely remembering to lock the door behind you before taking off down the corridor. The lamps lining the halls have already been lit, casting flickering pools of gold onto the stone floor. You don’t stop to enjoy it.

Viktor’s dorm is far from your lab, but somehow the jog doesn’t get you tired. On the contrary, it feel great. You reach his door and rap your knuckles against the wood, shifting on the balls of your feet with barely contained excitement.

“Viktor! Open up—I’ve done it!”

The door swings open faster than you expect, and Viktor is already halfway through a hasty, "Shh!" before you shove the stack of notes into his chest. He stumbles back a step, catching them with one hand while bracing against the doorframe with the other. His hair is tousled, his vest unbuttoned—he must have been in the middle of something, though whatever it was is immediately forgotten as he frowns down at the crumpled pages.

"What—?" he starts, but you barely hear him.

With a triumphant little flourish, you hold up the test tube between you, the liquid inside gleaming under the candlelight. “I did it,” you whisper, grinning. “It works.”

Viktor’s gaze flickers from the vial to your face, eyes narrowing. "It? You mean—?"

“If this isn’t enough evidence—” you gesture to the notes he’s still sorting through, his confusion growing by the second—“I might have secretly tried it.”

His fingers still against the parchment. His head snaps up. “…You what?” Voice pitches embarrassingly, sharp with alarm. He glares at you as if he might physically shake the confession back into your mouth, but it’s too late.

You shift your weight between your feet, the initial rush of excitement dimming just a little under his scrutiny. “I tried it,” you admit again, slower this time, watching as his grip tightens around your notes. “And it works, Viktor. No pain, not even a little. I feel…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words, then settle on, “Light. Like I’m floating.”

“That is not reassuring,” he snaps, finally stepping back to let you inside. As soon as you cross the threshold, he shuts the door with a soft but urgent click and turns on you. “You—” He exhales, dragging a hand down his face, visibly forcing himself into something calmer. “You did not even hesitate?”

“I hesitated a lot,” you counter, but that does nothing to ease the storm in his eyes. He looks down at your notes again, scanning them, flipping through pages. His brow furrows deeper with every line.

The rustling of paper sounds unbearably loud in the silence, the only noise countering it the pounding of your own heart in your ears. He says nothing, eyes scanning the pages with intense focus. He’s not just skimming—he’s memorising, cataloguing every formula, every line of documentation. His lips part once, his expression shifting from concern to consideration.

Finally, he lifts his gaze, hopeful and searching. “And the side effects?”

“Very unlikely to make an appearance. Oh, hey!” Your sentence stutters to a halt as you catch Viktor tilting the vial at his lips—and swallowing. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You said it’s safe. I trust you.” He shrugs with a grin, then his eyes flutter shut. After a moment, a quiet, breathy laugh escapes him. “I’ll be damned,” he mutters. “It does work.” As if testing a theory, he exhales deeply, then sits on the sofa and stretches his legs out experimentally. “Please, continue.”

You blink, thrown off balance, but quickly shake it off. “Uh… very unlikely,” you repeat, resuming your pacing in front of him. “Whoever prescribes the medication would have to be attracted to their patient, and vice versa, for any additional effects to take place. And they would both have to ingest it. So, you see—”

Through your excited rambling, you don’t immediately notice Viktor clearing his throat uncomfortably. You frown briefly, a strange warmth blooming in your chest, but your mouth refuses to stop moving.

Viktor speaks your name softly, trying to halt your trot. Then, again. Then, once more—his voice lifting just a notch in urgency.

You finally pause, eyes locking onto his. “Chances are… very slim,” you finish the sentence, but your voice falters into something dangerously close to a whine.

Viktor stretches his legs out stiffly, his hips jerking once as his fingers clench into the fabric of his trousers. A flush creeps up his neck, blooming across the cheeks and he exhales sharply through his nose, shifting as if trying to find relief. His chest rises and falls fast, and when he swipes a hand over his face, his lips part, damp from where he must have licked them. Another small jolt runs through him, thighs pressing together, and his knuckles go white where they grip his knees.

But above all of this, he just looks… incredibly hot. And as if the sight alone isn’t enough to nearly undo you, he speaks.

“Aphrodisiac.” Comes a low mutter of disbelief. “Brilliant, really,” he chuckles weakly, though there’s little amusement in it—only breathlessness. Brilliant, how you connected the dots. So incredibly brilliant to tickle, as he advised you, the parts of the brain that entwine both—pain and pleasure.

“But, oh… f-fuck,” Viktor stutters, a sharp inhale cutting through his words as his body betrays him. His hand twitches towards his lap before he catches himself, fingers gripping his wrist in a desperate attempt to resist. A painful cramp of lust wrenches his stomach into a knot, his entire frame tensing. “You’ve missed a variable, I’m afraid—”

You stand frozen, staring at him, torn between bolting out the door and throwing yourself at his feet. But then the realisation crashes over you, scorching hot, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your pulse slams against your ribs, your skin suddenly feverish—damp forehead, shirt clinging to your back like a parasite.

“You…” your voice wavers as you step forward, heat curling low in your stomach. “It means—” Viktor swallows hard, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, pupils blown wide. “Oh, gods,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. “You like me,” the truth spills from your lips, the weight of it sending another sharp pang of want through you.

“Immensely,” he admits, voice strained, thighs pressing together as another tremor runs through him. His face is painted in apology, but his hands reach out for you.

You take another step, closing the space between you, and his breath stutters. “Since when?”

“Always, ah—” he gasps, struggling to keep control. His fingers tighten into fists against his knees again. “You?”

Your throat is dry. “Oh… s-same,” you choke out deciding the time for embarrassment is long gone.  

His head tips back, jaw clenched, a strangled sound slipping out as he exhales. “Gods.”

And it just fucking hurts not to touch him. The pain you had so recklessly rid yourself of is back with unnatural force—aching, unrelenting—and gods help you, if you don’t rut into his lap any minute now, you’re going to die miserably.

When you get close enough, his fingers brush yours pleadingly, and the touch feels like a punch to the gut. The mere ghost of his skin against yours bends you in half, has you leaning over him, gripping the backrest of the sofa for support.

“Can I?” he asks, his hand hovering under your skirt. The sweetness of it—this man, asking permission to touch you when you’re so clearly drenched, when you’re convinced he can see the slick dripping down your thigh—makes you want to weep.

You nod desperately, breathing out a tearful, “Please.”

Viktor immediately comes to your aid, his palm swiping up the dampness on your leg before pressing flat against your cunt. The sound it makes—slick and obscene—has him gasping. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers, bewildered.

His neglected cock aches, trapped painfully in his trousers. With the hand not already between your thighs, he fumbles with his belt, freeing himself—but to no avail. His left palm is even clumsier than the right, which now falters, frozen between your legs, his drunk mind unable to do more than one thing at a time.

Desperate for friction, you grab his wrist and rut against his palm, spreading slick all over his fingers. Viktor whines, overwhelmed by both having you and not having you where he needs you most. Then, with a sudden motion that makes you gasp, he moves your knickers aside, hooks two fingers into your cunt, and pulls you down onto his lap.

The moment you're there, you begin to slide your pussy up and down his cock, and Viktor moans—a filthy, slutty sound that has you threading your fingers through his hair, tugging his head to face you.

He looks so gorgeous you could eat him and clean your teeth with his bones. Possessed by greed, you sink your tongue into his mouth and nearly stop grinding from the sheer feeling of it. His hands—gentle, reverent—cup your cheeks, soft lips nipping at yours, his eyelashes tickle your skin when his eyes flutter shut in relief.

It had never crossed your mind to just kiss him. And oh, you’ve missed out on so much.

Because Viktor kisses like he’s been wanting you for the longest time—slow and deep, breathing in through his nose as he presses his face into yours. Close, so close you could melt into him, dissolve into liquid and flow down his throat, straight to his heart. His scent floods you, sweet on your senses and unmistakably him, nothing in particular yet everything at once.

Your hips move once more, but he doesn’t let you go. He groans into your mouth, biting down a moan when your pussy lips hug the underside of his cock, teasing the spot just beneath the head. You stay there, rubbing your clit in short, frantic movements, the sinful sounds falling between you, making you ache for more.

Desperation floods your veins, your slick coating every inch of him as you grind into the ridges of his groin, each drag of your clit sending ecstatic warmth down each of your limbs. Viktor is no better—his breath comes in ragged pants. He grips your hips unsteadily, trying and failing to guide you into something slower that he could endure.

“F-fuck… you are—” His voice trembles, his forehead falling against yours as if the weight of his pleasure is crushing. “So wet. You feel so—so good.”

You can barely reply, too lost in the heat of him, the feeling of his length dragging through your folds, the head catching just right where you swell, the sensation buzzing, building up. Still, you manage a breathy, “Your cock feels amazing,” and the whimper Viktor lets out is nothing short of wrecked.

His hands slip up your back, holding you close, his lips brushing yours as he mutters sweet, broken things—bits of words and phrases in his native tongue. You don’t understand them all, but the way he speaks them, ardent and needy, has your stomach tightening, your whole body scorched.

“Viktor, I’m—”

“I know. Please, cum. For me,” he pleads, his hands gripping you tighter as you begin to lose your rhythm. It’s there, you can already feel it creeping up your spine, twisting and prickling your skin where Viktor touches you, coaxing it out.

The heat in your belly snaps, and you cry out, trembling in his arms as your release gushes over him, soaking his cock, his thighs, pooling where your bodies meet. The wetness, the sheer warmth of you, sends him over the edge in turn.

Viktor shudders beneath you, his voice breaking on a guttural groan as his cock twitches and spills, ropes of hot cum streaking over his stomach, mixing with your slick into a sticky, messy heat between you.

Your mouth falls back to his, kissing away the sweat from his lips, your pelvis still rocking gently through the aftershocks—the slide so easy now that you feel like a whore doing it. Viktor hums when you pull his damp hair away from his forehead, his breath slowing down when he exhales a breathless chuckle. "You will kill me," he murmurs, voice hoarse and fucked-out.

"No," you whisper, nuzzling into his cheek, your body still moving against him, slow and unhurried. Like a cat rubbing against its keeper, needy and content all at once. "No, I would never. I need you."

Viktor groans softly at that, his hands tracing your sweat-slicked back before settling at your waist. "What do you need from me, sweet girl?" His voice is low, the tone suggesting that anything you ask for, he will give you.

"Please, fuck me," you breathe, pressing closer, your lips brushing against his jaw. "I feel so empty." Only now you begin to undo the buttons of your shirt and Viktor does the same, pressing your damp stomachs together. He inhales your scent from the crook of your shoulder and hums, eyes rolling back in his skull as if the words physically unravel him. His grip on you tightens briefly before he smacks your hips with both hands and says, “Get up. Please.”

Your legs nearly betray you, thighs shaking and knees weak as you try to rise from his lap, only to almost collapse back at the sight of the webs of your shared release stretching between you. It makes a sticky sound, gross and hot, and to your relief, Viktor must find it hot too—because he’s nearly fully hard again.

You don’t know if it’s the medicine or something else. You feel different now, though it definitely still holds, since Viktor gets up with ease, turns you to face the couch, and presses his fingers to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before bending you over. “Ass up, head down,” he says, a renewed lewdness in his tone.

You turn your head, catching him in the corner of your eye, and at the flicker of concern on your face, he smooths a hand along your spine and murmurs, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” He peels the sweat-dampened shirt from your back, and you smile at your shared state of half-undress—the way no time is wasted getting fully bare, the discomfort of parting greater than the inconvenience of underwear pushed aside clumsily and trousers still pooled around his knees.

Only you know how many times you’ve pictured this exact scene. But your mind never drifted far enough to conjure exactly how wet and scorching everything would be, how your thighs would quiver in anticipation. The cushioned seat dips next to your knee as Viktor sinks down beside you, close enough that your legs touch. His cock hovers below your pussy, his hands undo your bra, then settle where your hips crease.

He rocks back and forth and tsks when you shift needily. “So impatient,” he hums, sickly sweet in your ear. “But I suppose I have your lack of restraint to thank for being here in the first place.”

A clever retort sits at the tip of your tongue, only to be punched back down when Viktor slides inside you with one smooth thrust, hitting deep. He groans, wide and loud, fingers digging into your flesh—but you don’t see his face. You barely see anything through the tears pricking your eyes, forcing you to squeeze your lids shut. Your nails bite into the couch, and your back arches to meet him, presenting your ass just as he asked.

Still tight from your last climax, you hug all of him snugly, yelping when his balls slap against your soaked lips. It’s slow, almost teasing—the way he stretches you out. He’s too busy gaping at his cock, appearing and disappearing inside you, to hear your little mewls of incoherent begging, the word please tumbling from your lips over and over with no meaning beyond desperation.

Finally, you’ve entered the realm of things he can touch. And it’s dishonourable, the way it happened—but he doesn’t care. The ability to touch you, to fuck you, quickly erases all shame as he slams into you, hard and measured, knocking moans and ragged pants from your throat. It feels better than anything he’s ever felt.

He fucks you hard and rough. Each thrust is forceful, precise, driving deep until the sound of bodies slapping against each other is all you can hear. When enough pressure builds, and he feels your walls tightening, clenching closer and closer around his cock, he fists a hand in your hair and yanks you up. A sharp cry spills from your lips, your belly presses out, and you have to brace a hand against the couch's backrest. His arm comes around your shoulders, holding your back flush against his chest. The other hand—the death of you—slides between your legs, fingers pressing ruthlessly against your clit.

No restraint, no kindness—no nice boy left in him. His teeth graze your ear before sinking into the straining flesh of your neck, his voice a ragged whisper against your skin. “Take it. Where do you want it?”

Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open as you breathe out a tired, “Inside. Please.” He bottoms out and wrenches it from you—an orgasm so violent it has you screaming silently into the ceiling of his dorm room. It’s devastating, ripping away all muscle control as your cunt seizes tight around him, milking him without mercy. Your hands tremble, knuckles whiten as you struggle to hold yourself up, trying not to slump face-first into a pillow.

It’s all too much for Viktor. He falters, his hand slipping from between your thighs. He whispers your name distantly, voice raw, and ruts upward—once, twice—before spilling inside you. Hot cum floods every crevice, thick and unrelenting, leaking out even before he pulls free.

Everything melts into one—your shared breaths, the wet warmth between you, the sluggish rhythm of your heartbeats syncing. Viktor sits back on his heels and wraps his arms around you, nosing into your neck. Leaves soft, loving pecks there, trailing from your collarbone to your temple.

“You really didn’t know?” he asks quietly, his thumb stroking your lip.

You swallow against the dryness in your throat and chuckle. “Oh, gods, no. I’d like to think I have more decency than to drug you into this.” Your face tucks into his throat as you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I have never been more pleased about someone missing a variable,” he mutters, and he’s back—himself again. His hands are gentle as they cup your cheek, swiping away your worry. His lips are sweet on yours, licking the salt from your skin. What this little mistake has just opened up for you—you have no idea. But you can’t wait to find out.

[teeskzagain]

⁺⋆｡°✩⁺˚｡Party Favors ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

» pairing: arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader

» summary: it's nearing the end of mid-term season, and sunghoon is truly on the brink of death. luckily, his roommates have a solution to help him recuperate from the treacherous week: one large ass, big ass, loud ass party. even if it may not be his scene normally , sunghoon figures there's no harm in trying it out. little did he know, from the moment he would step foot into that house, the night was going to be full of mistakes.

» genre + warnings: college au, alcohol consumption, heavy kissing + hard make outs, lots of arguments, hickies, rough sex (like rough), choking, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT), cream pies, dirty talking, t e n s i on, mean!dom sunghoon, batty!sub reader, enemies to NO lovers, shitty depictions of sim jake and lee heeseung (don't take this seriously)

» w.c: 10.9k

» a/n: not on time, but at least it's within the hour! (no its not) still, give me some credit...

» taglist: @indigoez @jakeswifez @aanniikkaa-blog @slut4hee @heeknow @rairaiblog-blog @no1likeneo @d-dilemma @soobingf-blog @shuaxzcake @mingyuslice @heelovesmeknot @mitmit01 @hpnsfwaddict @jooniesbears-blog @notrosemary @remii830@jooniesbears-blog @pasteltheghost16 @goodforgyu @sunghoonsbigcoketip

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Entering his shared apartment, Sunghoon is quick to throw off his backpack and sling off his coat. He doesn’t even bother putting them in their designated spots, rather deciding to leave the items scattered about. Yep, he's that out of it, that he doesn’t even care for the mess just now created.

Despite having recently finished his latest mid-term exam, it's as if the burden of stress still weighs on him. His shoulders are tense, there's pressure in his head, his eyes are hanging low. Truthfully, he doesn't even remember the last time he smiled within the past week. Mid-terms were absolutely brutal this time around.

The only saving grace is the fact that it's now done. Finally. After damn near killing himself for the past week and a half; the sleepless nights, the treacherous study hours. Even if he may not have his results for some time now, he's just glad to have it over with.

“Thank, god.” He mumbles more to himself. Currently, he’s beelining straight into the kitchen and to the refrigerator.

He grabs the first water bottle seen, and waste no time screwing the cap off and gulping down sections of liquid. Because of the back to back exams, he couldn’t even find time to properly eat or drink anything, leaving him parched and fatigued. He swings his head forward to cut off the remaining water flow, a small gasp falling from his throat as well.

Little huffs continuously erupt from Sunghoon. Today must’ve worn him out even more than he realized. So much so, that he finds himself going in for another swing, downing the bottle half empty until-

“Holy shit, dude!”

Sunghoon rips the bottle away from his mouth, slightly startled from the sudden outbreak. There, standing in the kitchen, is his roommate and close friend, Sim Jake. Who from the looks of it- with his messy hair, oversized shirt/shorts combo, and titled glasses -probably either just woke up or got done boning someone.

Maybe….both?

“Did you just run a fucking marathon? Why are you drinking it like that?” Jake questions as he goes in above to reach for the cabinet. He originally came in for some snacks, only to get jumpscared by his roommate acting strange.

Realizing he must have looked crazy, Sunghoon lets out a small chuckle, “I just got done with my last exam, and now I’m exhausted.”

“Clearly...” Jake mutters. Quickly, he retrieves a couple of chip bags then closes the cubby door, “But, I hear you. I mean, you did take 19 credit hours this semester. Probably wasn’t gonna be a walk in the park when it came to the tests.”

And to that, Sunghoon could only nod in agreement. Yes, he’s fully aware how psychotic it must have been to request 19 hours this semester. But, Sunghoon has his reasons for doing so, plus he was certain he could have handled it. Now….not so much. If this amount of stress is already getting to him, he doesn’t even want to think about finals week.

Jake lets his own words linger as he’s about ready to step out of the kitchen. Before doing just that, he catches a glimpse of Sunghoon’s face, causing him to instead move in closer. Eyeing the stoic boy, Jake’s face scrunches, “Oh, god. Dude, and your eye bags are getting darker. How much sleep have you been getting?”

With a ‘tch’, Sunghoon swats the boy away and does a side step from the space invasion. He opts to leave the crammed space and book it towards the connected living room, “None, basically. I was hauling ass these past couple of weeks to prepare for mid-terms. In which, there’s no such thing as sleep.”

As he flops down on to the couch, a laborious groan leaves his chest and even that surprises Sunghoon. God, what’s wrong with him? Jake follows him into the living room as well, watching the way Sunghoon’s body stiffly sinks into the cushions.

“Jesus Christ,” Jake comments, the scene unfolding before his very eyes becoming increasingly sad. It looks as if Sunghoon has strained something in the process of….relaxing? and is now rubbing his lower back, “No wonder Y/N called you a hallowed-out machine the other day. It’s like you’re wearing down more and more by the hour.”

At the mention of your name, Sunghoon’s neck snaps up towards Jake’s vicinity. Jake, in turn, finds himself shuffling backwards slightly out of fear, “Don’t you dare speak her name in this apartment. Are you asking for a death wish?”

He and his other roommate, Heeseung, know the rules: no mentions of you ever. It irks him every single time. Coupled with the fact that Jake had brought up the insult thrown at him not too long ago by you? Yeah, maybe he did have a death wish.

Jake swiftly raises his hands in the air as a sign of surrendering, “Look, I’m just saying. You’re so rigid, your spine doesn’t even curve.” Sunghoon instinctively glances behind his shoulder, then goes to straighten his back. Well, as much as he could.

Regarding him, Jake continues, “You’ve been stressed out of your mind lately, Hoon. And now, you can’t even relax properly.”

The disgruntled boy scoffs, shifting around in his seat briefly, “Oh, fuck off…” It also didn’t help that minor sounds of his back cracking occurred.

“I’m being serious!” Throwing his arms out, Jake tries to emphasize his point by a, ‘just look at you!’ claim of evidence. Sunghoon merely jeers, opposing his statements.

Just as the conversation gained traction, out comes Lee Heeseung from his room, a bowl of finished noodles in hand as he slurps the last remaining ramen. He gets only a couple steps in when he gazes up and stops in his tracks, and with wide eyes, he darts back and forth between the always stressed out Sunghoon and a growing stressed out Jake.

He swallows his food, “What’s going on in here?”

“Oh, Hee! Great, now you can be apart of this, I need backup.” Jake’s eyes scan Heeseung’s body as he travels into the kitchen to wash his dish.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sunghoon rests two fingers on his forehead and goes in for a message, swearing he’s going to lose his mind soon. The swooshing from the running water causes Jake to shout over it.

“Our mate over here doesn’t believe that he’s lost it. You know, with his terribly designed schedule and all.”

Sliding the digits down his face, Sunghoon could only deadpan towards his roommate, “I’m going to strangle you.”

While looking back behind him, Heeseung is wrist deep into cleaning the bowl. Though, that doesn’t stop him from answering, “Oh, yeah. Sunghoon, you’ve been out of it for weeks, man!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Sarcasm oozes from Sunghoon’s statement which only acts as more fuel for the fire Jake has created.

“And that’s the issue,” Jake counters, “You’ve been wound up for so long, it’s starting to impact you even after the fact.”

The faucet promptly gets turned off, him placing the bowl in the nearby drying rack, and soon Heeseung is strolling out of the kitchen and up to Jake. The two stand side by side each other as a small pout forms on Heeseung’s face.

“You haven’t slept in days. I know, cause I’ve heard you up past like 1 AM every single night, groaning about your tests.” It took Heeseung about a couple of days into the week to realize Sunghoon wasn’t just jerking off unusually loud, but instead was producing pained moans from his grueling study hours.

A low grumble bubbles out from Sunghoon, with him throwing harsh dagger eyes towards his roommates, “Is this some sort of impromptu intervention? What the fuck?”

“What? No-”

“Yes.” Jake butts-in before Heeseung had a chance to satiate him, “You know what, actually, yeah it is. As your best friends and amazing roommates-”

Holy god.

“-we can’t just let you work yourself dead. Then, who would help us pay for rent?”

Sunghoon stares blankly at Jake’s stupid puppy dog eyes and stupid half grin. After a quick round of silence, Heeseung then takes the time to chime in.

“On a more….sincere note,” he starts off by accentuating the sincere part, “we really are just worried for you, Hoon. Yeah, you’ve always been pretty stiff in manners, but now that’s like…been amplified.”

Jake uses the crown of his head to point towards Heeseung, signaling his consensus. He then brings his hands to his hips, his face morphing into a pondering pose. As his brain churns, the remaining boys just wait for whatever idea is brewing.

“Oh!” Like a light bulb going off in his head, Jake gets the brightest idea. One, for the record, he just knows will cure whatever academic illness Sunghoon’s been subjected to, “What you need…is a few drinks in you.”

“It’s 2 in the afternoon.” Sunghoon turns his nose upright at whatever proposition that was, only for Jake to come back with a retort.

“No..no, not right now. I mean later tonight.”

It’s after those words Heeseung perks his own head up. Ah, okay. He’s picking up what Jake’s putting down, “Ohhh, right. Jungwon did say he was gonna throw tonight.”

“Exactly, and it’s supposed to be the biggest one yet.” Jake sticks out his tongue wickedly, “You should be able to loosen up there. Cause if anything, Jungwon is gonna make sure you will.”

Sunghoon truly can’t think of any other place he would hate going to more than a party. What kind of shitty idea is that?

“No.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, “No?”

“I have to study-”

“No, you don’t!” He exclaims back at the boy sitting on the couch, “See, it’s like you’re infected. Always worrying about school, always concerned about your grades. Blah. Blah. Doesn’t it get tiring?”

Sunghoon can’t believe what he’s hearing. Of course his dumbass friend couldn’t understand the hard work and care he puts into university, when he’s too busy practically sleeping the day away. Or fucking someone, who knows, really. Hoon opens his mouth and is ready to refute the comment when Heeseung jumps in, stopping any forming sentences.

“Just think of this as a chance for you to actually enjoy yourself. You know, getting out, putting some alcohol into your system, maybe….finding another way to relieve some stress?” His eyebrows shoot upwards with a wiggle, indicating an innuendo. Jake immediately yells in delight.

“Fuck yes!” It’s as if Jake’s figured it all out. No wonder why Sunghoon’s been so cranky, “You need to find some girl and stick your dick in her. You’ve been celibate for too long.”

Sunghoon glares over to the two standing near him. One of them bears a look of plead while the other waits patiently for his answer. He doesn’t get it. His friends know he’d rather drop dead than go to some party. So, why try to convince him? Letting out a ghostly sigh, Sunghoon thinks for a bit.

“What if…that’s by choice?” Sunghoon attempts to counter argue. He brings his forearms down to his knees, resting them there.

Jake could only roll his eyes, “Oh, we know it’s by choice. Too many girls have asked us for your socials and shit.”

“They like the whole unapproachable act you do. Apparently, it’s hot.” Heeseung adds, which means it’s now Sunghoon’s turn to do a dramatic eye roll. There is no act. There is no strategy. That’s just how he is.

“You guys are crazy.” He mumbles with a light shake, though Jake doesn’t falter. Instead, he inches closer towards Sunghoon with another single attempt.

“Listen to us Hoon,” Jake starts again one final time. He is determined to get his friend to see the bigger picture, “You’re finished with your midterms, which we know for fact you killed them. At least do it as a celebration for yourself.”

Heeseung points a finger in Sunghoon’s direction, “And the weekend is coming up. You could use this party as a gateway into your much needed time away from school.”

“Plus, you’ll have us there to make sure you don’t get too bored. And wingman if you want us too.” A wink gets thrown in from Jake, and that finally cracks down Sunghoon’s hard exterior. He lets out a short laugh.

So, maybe there is some plausible truth to what he is hearing. And, if Sunghoon’s being honest, he does feel as if he has accomplished something. Is there really any harm in celebrating? Plus, it’s only for one night and he knows the host, Jungwon; if things get too crazy, he can always just leave.

“Are you considering it?” Heeseung quips, leaning in towards his friend. He truly does believe this will help resolve some of that pent up frustration.

Sunghoon blows out a harsh breath, dropping one arm as the other goes in to scratch the back of his head. He thinks it over one last time. Jesus, is he really about to go to this thing? Giving it some more thought, Sunghoon raises back up and soon flashes a tired smile in the boys’ direction.

“What the hell. Alright, fine.”

His two friends cheer proudly. Finally, an actual chance at winding down and enjoying himself. They’re happy Sunghoon made the right choice, or else he would’ve been holed up in here by himself. Which, it’s already sad enough he does that on the regular, at least now he can have somewhat of a social life. All thanks to them.

“Damn, it’s gonna be so much fun tonight.” Exclaiming, Jake knocks himself into Heeseung with a fat smile.

Heeseung laughs back, “I already know Jungwon’s gonnna be psyched to hear that Hoon’s coming. I think Jay and Sunoo said they’ll show up too. Plus Riki, maybe. Either way, it’ll be great.”

Sunghoon sits up and brushes his palms over his thighs, already feeling a mixture between excitement and nerves, “I hope it is.”

“Don’t sweat it. Jungwon’s parties are always fun. You’ll enjoy it.” Jake reassures him and Heeseung throws in his own attestant, confirming the statement.

As they all finish out their conversation, soft footsteps creak against their hard floors, causing the talking to die down. They all look over to see where the noise came from, only to find a disheveled looking girl with messy hair and an oversized T-shirt standing idly near the hallway.

Sunghoon tilts his head in confusion.

“Jake…I was getting worried,” She begins, rubbing her sleepy eyes, “Come back to bed.”

While Sunghoon and Heeseung exchange a glance with one another, Jake placates the girl with a quick, ‘Be there in a second’, then turns towards the two. He drags a lip into his mouth, which does nothing to stop the devilish smile from taking over.

“Well, duty calls.” And then he’s gone.

Heeseung takes his leave as well, returning back to his room after saying his departure to Sunghoon. Now there’s only him.

Sunghoon rethinks the events of what just happened, and although he feels some wariness beginning to creep inside of him, he also knows the feeling of elation is ever more present. Yeah, he really does see himself as being excited for tonight.

Because truly, what’s the worst that could happen?

Sunghoon feels as if his mind is on Cloud ni- no, scratch that -Cloud 20 right now.

With a sappy grin, flushed face, and hooded eyes, the boy spends his time hovering in a corner, basking in the warmness that's practically radiating off of him.

In contrast, his eyes scan around the chaotic mess of dancing bodies, crowded groups, and alcohol flowing throughout the living room of some giant ass mansion Jungwon was able to rent out. There’s colored lights bouncing off the walls, and if he didn’t know any better, they were synced with the music blasting all around.

He finds that he can’t exactly pinpoint what’s making him feel so at ease. His muscles are relaxed and not tense as usual. He rests casually against the wall. The cup in his hand had only a few sips remaining, and even that would be gone within the next 5 seconds.

Even though he usually chooses to stay indoors and rest, Sunghoon doesn’t truly understand why or how he actually found enjoyment at something so degenerating as a party-

"Hey!"

As if he's moving in slow motion, Sunghoon twists his head to see where the voice is coming from, his light smile not faltering once. Jake comes into focus, who’s sporting a similar manner as himself right now. He walks up with another red cup in grasp.

"You good, man?" He asks once standing next to Sunghoon.

Eyes glossy, Sunghoon regards his friend before whipping his head forwards to the sea of people. Sighing, he allows his head to fall back gently onto the dry wall, "I feel great. Feel so fucking good right now."

"Holy shit. See," Jake laughs a little too hard into Sunghoon's shoulder, causing both boys to stumble slightly, "Aren't you happy Heeseung and I brought you here tonight? You’re finally relaxing.”

Sunghoon could only chuckle softly at the words. Nothing truer could have been spoken. Right now, he is completely at peace and is tranquil all thanks to his persistent friends.

“So,” Jake starts as he moves to the left of Sunghoon, “Found someone worth exploring yet?”

Sunghoon laughs even more, though he knew nothing funny was really said. He didn’t know why, but everything seems more humorous. He loves it, “No. No, I haven’t been looking.”

Groaning, Jake begins to chastise his friend for acting like such a rookie, “Seriously, come on,” he jabs a finger into his temple, “You need to- to get your head…in the game. Start scoping out the scene.”

“What the fuck, man.” Sunghoon playfully darts his eyes away, the corners of his mouth staying upright.

“No, really. You gotta do it for Little Hoon.”

Sunghoon shoves Jake’s arm with a guffaw. What is he even saying right now? The two of them continue laughing and talking, the the topic of ‘Little Hoon’ becoming the forefront of their conversation, when a loud whoop followed by cheers interrupt them.

Entering through a doorway with a silver platter in hand, Heeseung emerges from god knows where, wearing a nearly identical expression to his two buddies. Even with people shouting and yelling at him, he stalks right up to them standing near the wall, and it’s at that moment Sunghoon notices the tray holding six more shots.

“It’s time, guys.” Heeseung parks right in front of them, now blocking Sunghoon’s view of the chaos. He lowers the platter so it’s waist level with everyone, “Rouuunnd three. You know the drill, Hoon.”

Since this is Heeseung’s third time bringing out the tray, of course Sunghoon knows what to do. The first time there were only three shots, second time a merely two- Heeseung had already taken his, and now this is supposed to be the final punch.

Sunghoon reaches down and picks up one of the plastic shot cups, then brings the rim to his eyes, “I think…I should’ve asked earlier. But, what’s in here?”

For a moment there’s silence. Then, instead of answering, Heeseung simply shushes at the curious boy while Jake helps guide Sunghoon’s arm down to his mouth. Once there, he grabs at a mini cup and so does Heeseung.

“Don’t ask. Just drink.” Jake directs, and it’s only then Sunghoon notices just how much thicker his accent gets when he’s inebriated.

“Here we go!” Heeseung leads first with him throwing his head back, and shortly everyone followed suit.

The first of the two shots slide down Sunghoon’s throat with no problem, but he’s still not used to the burning that arises with the liquid. After drinking the last remains in his cup, he goes back in for the final shot, in which the three of them take simultaneously.

“Oh, god.” Jake grimaces from the taste and shakes his head.

“Fuck, those hit me. Yep, I’m feeling those now.” Heeseung shuts his eyes reactively then quickly opens them, letting out a small huff.

Sunghoon feels the alcohol course down his pipe and land right in his chest. It leaves him with a tingly feeling that doesn’t leave him right away. And then, he’s coughing. Oh, wow. That one must’ve went down the wrong way.

“Whew. Alright,” Jake claps his hands together, and with a rub, he glances back and forth between his friends, “Now that we’ve gotten Sunghoon really loosened up, let’s see what’s around.”

Heeseung cheers and does a side step, the three of them now lined up against the wall.

Sunghoon takes a deep breath, yet even that simple task makes him feel strange, “If I’m- being honest. I don’t even know what I’m looking for…” Sunghoon half-shrugs while his eyelids slowly drop then widens.

Heeseung cranes his neck upwards, essentially dismissing the comment. He attempts to see over the crowd in front of him, then instantly, something catches his eye, “Oh, there’s Park Jia,” he peers back slightly towards his friend, “If you’re wanting a screamer, she’s your match.”

Both Sunghoon and Jake try to follow Heeseung’s eyeline, then quickly spot a girl downing a cup near the beer pong table.

Jake scrunches his nose, “Dude, she has a boyfriend. Of like…3 years.”

Sunghoon glances back over to Heeseung, to which he dryly chuckles, “Not my fault if she came on to me. Suho should have a better grip on her.”

“Fair.” Jake nods then scans his head once more, “How about Lee Chennie? Apparently you can make her wet in seconds, she’s that desperate.”

“But she also does those high-pitched fake porn moans. It’s so annoying whenever you’re trying to fuck her.” Heeseung sneers, obviously not a fan, “How do you feel about Kang Minhee, Hoon?”

“What about Kim Gyuri?”

“Kim Haeyun?”

“Oh, shit. She does give great head.”

“I know.”

As his friends continue to explain previous flings, ex-hookups, and horror stories, Sunghoon’s finding it rather hard to keep up. Just from their recaps, apparently they’ve gotten with nearly every single girl within a 10 meter radius, with each girl having their own unique experience. ‘This girl can do this’, ‘this girl can do that’, ’this girl has a trick with her tongue…’ Sunghoon feels his head is gonna explode with all of this new information. Instead of narrowing down his options, he feels his horizon has expanded. Now, how is he supposed to choose?

“Look, I really don’t have a preference,” He waves a hand around to try and calm the boys down. His own head is getting jumbled from listening to them, “I’ll just see if there’s anyone worth pursui….”

His eyes are trained forward as he kept speaking. He watches the crowd begin to disperse in front of him. People made their way from out of the living room, clearing up space in the once packed area. And it’s only then, when the living room is now much more barren and empty, in which he finds a sight that captivated him, causing him to trail away from his speech.

And not in a good way.

You.

Straight across from him, there you are. You’re passionately dancing with a couple of surrounding girls, a cup waving alongside in the air. You look ecstatic. A bright grin is etched onto your face, body moving along to the thumping beat. While Jake and Heeseung start up talking his ear off again, Sunghoon zeros in on your presence.

What the fuck are you doing here?

He eyes you down. You’re grinding against nothing like a fucking dog in heat, then do a quick twirl. Unintentionally, the movement causes Sunghoon to briefly drop his gaze down to your backside that sways in circles. The dress plastered onto you is short, tight, and black, so it leaves little room to the imagination. His lips quiver from disapproval. Of course you’re going around parading yourself like this. What a whore.

While working his vision back up, a loud giggle floats across the room and stabs him in his ears, courtesy of you. Instinctively, his eye twitches from the sound. It sends him back to the bittersweet laugh you had given him days prior, when you were insulting him. Murmuring behind his chair in class, calling him every name in the goddamn book, ‘an arrogant prick’, ‘a hallowed-out machine’, and other rude things. It ticked him off to no end.

Just like that, he feels his chest begin to burn once more, and this time it’s not from the alcohol. It’s the swirling anger that starts from his inside and radiates outward. Sunghoon tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes to further look at you.

How is that you always manage to get underneath his skin? One glance in your direction and he’s already losing all rationality. You’ve always had a way of doing this to him, and he absolutely despises you for this fact.

He keeps his sight on you, now feeling his chest heave up and down. Even as the two girls you were fooling around with begin exiting to somewhere else, you keep on dancing; not a care to your name. You’re by yourself now, yet the only drive that’s keeping you in motion is the rhythm that’s blaring aloud.

Jake and Heeseung are still conversing with him, even as they keep recalling more and more girls that walk on by, a few of the girls sending flirty looks their way. Once Heeseung flirts actively back with one of them, only then did Sunghoon snap out of whatever minor trance you had him in.

Right. He should be focusing on relaxing. He should be picking out the girl that he’s going to take upstairs and fuck nice and hard tonight. He deserves at least that. He should be thinking about those kinds of things, and certainly not you. Because when it comes to you, there’s nothing to even consider besides your bratty ass attitude.

Even when trying to distract himself with his friends and their continuous talking, Sunghoon is certainly not fleeting his gaze over towards you every so often, catching glimpses of your winding curves. He knows for a fact that he shouldn’t be staring at your dress which is constantly riding up, almost as if it’s teasing him. Or….inviting him? Fuck, what the hell is he thinking right now?

He shakes his head and rips his gaze away from you, suppressing whatever feeling was creeping up inside him. This is dangerous. He’s becoming too aware of your presence.

That much is evident when he catches himself peering over to your body once more. He follows your hips down to the floor before seductively rising again, and a pang quickly surges throughout his core.

He needs to stop this now. His senses are becoming jumbled, from ideas of hooking up with a girl to you intercepting his attention. It's all leaving him a mess right now. Yet, he finds himself addicted to the risk. Inhaling deeply, he fixes his gaze back on you. This time it's permanent.

He recognizes the fact that his mind is not right. Sunghoon knows this. So why does he find himself shifting against the wall, itching to go over towards you. Why? He has no fucking clue. It has to be the alcohol coercing through him, otherwise in a sober state he’d conclude you as nothing more than a thorn in his side. But, he’s not sober. And his head, which is now flowing with thoughts that just can’t be his, is making him consider going up to you.

His brain feels hazy. Not so much scattered, but full. Full of those unwanted thoughts he would otherwise typically suppress. The kind that normally repulses Sunghoon on a daily basis, but for some reason is invading his head tonight and not wanting to leave. It’s becoming unbearable.

He doesn’t know what comes over. His legs just start moving. Even as he peels from the wall and amble forward, he really isn’t sure what’s happening. His friends shout at him, perplexed about his actions, but he’s direct in where he’s going. With one foot in front of his next, he’s running on autopilot.

It doesn’t make sense why he’s doing this. He’s certain, that with every fiber of his being, he would never allow himself to do something so horrendous had the circumstance been different. Unfortunately, this isn’t any usual scenario.

Soon, he’s standing right in front of you. Sunghoon just regards your carefree stature with glazed eyes and a burning heart, waiting.

You don’t notice your absolute enemy standing mere inches from you. Your eyes are closed as you continue grooving and flowing, the bass hitting your sternum just right. It’s not until you make a full circle, bringing your head up and around, in which you finally crack them open- revealing a scolding Sunghoon now in your vision.

You immediately recoil at the sight, shrieking from being startled, “Oh- what the fuck, Sunghoon?”

He stares at you with flared nostrils, his gaze boring down harshly into yours, “What are you doing here?”

“Huh?” You start to scowl, “What am I…? What are you doing here?”

“Oh.” Sunghoon tries to focus his blurred eyes on your expression; wide, yet confused, “Is me being here really that surprising?”

When going to refute that, you lose your balance momentarily, though you try hiding it with a quick dance move. Regaining yourself, you look back up to him. Your puzzled face has now been replaced with a snarl, “Yeah, actually it is. A hallowed-out machine with nothing better to do with his life….is actually attending a party?” You drop your face mockingly, “Who would’ve thunk it?”

Anger builds up inside of Sunghoon, proven by his eyebrows furrowing in discontentment, “Really? You’re really gonna…gonna act like this? Hasn’t even been a minute of us talking and you’re already being bitchy.”

You simply shrug your shoulders while you keep on dancing, your legs moving about. If he thought he could ruin your good time, oh, he’d be so wrong.

Spinning around, you let a few seconds pass before deciding to addres him, ���Did you come alone ‘cause no one else wanted to be around you? Is that why you’re desperate for company?”

He laughs dryly, though his hard expression says otherwise. In all honesty, he isn’t completely sure why he came over here either. Was it the adrenaline rush? The fuzziness of his brain? His brewing thoughts? It wasn’t clear. One thing for sure, he would never reveal that to you.

Rather, he tightens his face as you keep gyrating in circles, “Just like how you’re desperate for attention? You were in my eyesight, and I saw you practically humping the air- thank you for that.”

A disgruntled huff trickles from your mouth. What a fucking scrooge, “Now you’re watching me? Like a fucking creep?”

“I’m sure you wanted the attention,” He makes it obvious he’s referring to your outfit, with the way his eyes casts a disgusted look downwards. He hates how it outlines each and every curve of yours, and pours out your breasts, “Which, now that I think about, doesn’t surprise me. You’ve always had to seek it out somehow.”

Despite your easy going attitude, you find Sunghoon’s words are starting to penetrate you. He always does this. Inputting his beliefs onto you, degrading you. He loves causing unnecessary problems. All. The. Time. God, you can’t stand him. You glower angrily towards the irritating boy, this time putting a halt to your dancing, “What is your problem?”

Sunghoon shifts his weight onto his other foot, crossing his arms. The action causes his muscles to bulge outwards against his short sleeves. Watching that annoyed you, so you peer eyes up. His dark hair is parted and styled, in his usual classic manner. The straight-faced expression he wears perfectly captures his stoic personality, even if his dumb, flawless features help to sculpt his perfect face. Ugh, he just irks you so bad.

“My problem?” He mulls the question over, an eyebrow slightly raising, “To be honest, everything you do pisses me off. It’s hard to pick just one.”

Holy- You think you’re going to kill him.

Abruptly, you spin on your heels- which give you an extra inch of height, and begin staggering your way towards the staircase, “I’m done.”

Sunghoon’s face contorts unpleasantly. His brain short-circuits, and for a second he doesn’t register you leaving, until he’s shaking his head to get his vision clear once again, “Where the hell are you going?”

“Away from you.” You yell over your shoulder. Having made it to the staircase, you grip the railing and start ascending upwards.

“No- no….” Sunghoon’s bunched-in face is ever more present, and this time he takes a step closer to you, “No, I’m not done with you.”

“How about you just take it up the ass.”

“Excuse me?”

You didn’t care if there was no correlation between your statement and his. Instead, you’re too concerned about having to will yourself up each and every stair, “You heard me,” you mumble the next part, “Such a fucking cunt.”

Sunghoon’s absolutely confused, because what? Even as he reels in from the shocking phrase, that doesn’t stop him from leisurely trailing you to the staircase. He still has more to say to you.

“You’re so-”

“-so what?” Cutting him off, you have a bite to your tone. You continue to work your way up the steps, and find it bothersome that you sense his presence lurking directly behind you.

Each time his mouth opens you just want to throw your hands around his throat and strangle him. However, even in your state, you knew unfortunately that wouldn’t go well at a party. Strangling someone and all…

“So fucking annoying. Seriously. I don’t know how anyone can like you.” He jeers. With him following close behind him, he has to stop himself from fully taking in the view of your round ass intruding his space. Oh, fuck him.

“Are you kidding me? I don’t know how anyone can like you.” The two of you reach the top of the staircase and fall into silence afterwards. You dart out a hand to glide against the wall, mainly using it as an aid to maneuver your way down the hall.

He follows your path through the tight area, dodging passerbyers along the way. For the most part, this floor seems to be much more secluded than downstairs. Hardly anyone resides up here. Which also means that once you both reach a bathroom at the far end of the hall- apparently that was the destination all along, you yelp in joy when realizing there would be no line.

As you scurry in, you brush a palm against the door frame then swing around to face Sunghoon who’s coming to a stop, “I’m gonna pee now. So, you can take your….entitled, arrogant, annoying ass somewhere else.”

Those words send him into a spiral. When you go to shut the door close, he’s swiftly throwing it back open, his head jutting out in perplexity, “What was that?”

You waste no time repeating yourself, “You’re an entitled, arrogant ass. That’s also dumb,” you attempt to push harder on the door, “You have a stupid, dumb face.”

“What the…you think you can just say that and leave? Are you trying to piss me off?” He doesn’t let up on the door, and so you quickly give up.

Aimlessly, you make your way over to the toilet, though you don’t sit down immediately. You’re too busy staring down Sunghoon, who’s now worked his way into the bathroom and promptly shuts the door, and locks it.

“You're not so perfect yourself, Y/N,” Sporadically, he gazes all over your body, irritation and something else seeping from within him, “You whine and complain and start problems. You've always had since high school.”

“Oh.” Mentioning the past was not a good idea. Your eyes go large as you now stare intensely at him, taking one step forward, “You wanna bring up high school? Hmm? You wanna? Fine. Let's talk about just how shitty of a person you became.”

“Here we go, again.” Sunghoon rolls his eyes into the back of his head, “That’s what you always say.”

“Because it’s true!” You throw a hand in his direction for emphasis, then without hesitation you plop down on top of the closed toilet lid, “You became friends with those two fucking idiots, and ended up as one yourself.”

Your words simmer aloud before a light chuckles leaves Sunghoon. He shuffles and places his back onto the bathroom door, while crossing his arms yet again, “That’s rich."

You narrow your eyes in his direction, "What?"

"I find it funny you think you have any room to call someone an idiot."

That takes you aback, “What?”

He tilts his head mockingly, "Did you think I forgot? How you almost flunked out our third year because your grades were so low?"

Oh, screw him. Actually, screw him. How could he bring that up? One of the worst periods of your life. Your college career was at stake and he just casually drops that as if it were nothing? Fuck, he's such a cunt.

You don't reply to him, obvious that this struck a nerve so deep. Even Sunghoon is surprised to hear you shut up for once. A chilling silence overtakes the air as you continue to sit on the toilet, sinking in your detest.

Your leg begins to bounce and instinctively, you drag your puffy lip into your mouth, gnawing gently as you begin thinking. Thinking about how to retaliate. You're lost in thought when a past memory brims to the surface of your head.

This time, you're the one to do the short laugh, "Our third year...right. Just like how Na Sohee started that rumor about you being the worst lay she's ever had," you pull your attention over towards his stance, a more apprehensive attitude overtaking him, "Yeah. When she said you were sloppy and gross. That you repulsed her.” you practically spit those words back at him, then finish off your statement, “Which for the record, I never thought of it as a rumor. I'm sure you are shitty in bed, too."

Now that cuts deeply for Sunghoon, evident by the quick inhale he does and his chest raising high. Yeah, he wasn't expecting you to say that. Sohee knew she was wrong for spreading that about him, after he didn’t want to sleep with her. It was disgusting for her to even say such a thing. And there you are, smirking back at him as his jaw clenches.

He’s quiet for a second, then uncomfortably clears his throat, “…..whatever.”

Yeah. That’s what you fucking thought. You eye Sunghoon down menacingly while he becomes visibly twitchy in how he’s constantly moving around. It makes you glad to have made him so scattered, “Yeah, embarrassing isn’t it? Having your past throw in your face…”

He waits a beat before speaking up. Sunghoon’s not blind. He gets why’re saying this. He started the conversation, meaning he can’t necessarily fault you for bringing…that up. However, he feels his pride is getting the best of him. To which, he darts his eyes away and mutters, “Alright. I hear you.”

“Sooo fucking embarrassing. Oh, are your ears turning red, Sunghoon?” You lean your torso in further to tease him, though judging by the plain look he sports, he was clearly not amused by your joke.

“Very funny,” in a deadpan tone he blinks back at you, “You can cut it out now.”

But, you don’t. No, you decide to keep going. Because if there is one thing about you, once the topic of Park Sunghoon gets brought up, you can speak on it for hours. You bring up how the rumor must’ve made him feel so insecure about himself, and how his ego definitely took damages from hearing it. You mention how he probably hasn’t gotten fucked since then, because of how much of a fucking loser he is. Poor Sunghoon.

With each passing second, and each passing insult being hurled in his direction, Sunghoon feels himself dwindling down in composure. He’s already said all of the different variations of ‘You’re right’ without actually saying those surrendering words: ‘Okay, I get it’, ‘Yeah, got it’, ‘Okay’, ‘Yeah’.

And yet, you still ramble on. Like the floodgates are open and nothing’s being done to stop it. You dish out harsher words, “No one is going to ever-”

“Y/N. Just stop talking.” His voice is raised and even slightly reverberates between the walls of the bathroom. He casts a look and regards you with bewilderment. Whatever else that was about to leave your mouth immediately stops after his interruption.

You twist your body even more, so you’re holding eye contact; your knees slightly opening and closing because for some reason you can’t seem to sit still. While you think of a retort to say back, your vision goes away from Sunghoon and focuses on the nearby details. In doing so, you miss the begrudging glance down Sunghoon gives your thighs. He spots a brief glimpse of something white alongside it.

And then, he’s retreating his gaze. He’s not going to allow himself to get distracted. Especially from you. His mind was just cleared. Yes, it took a while for those previous thoughts to fade out, but he was finally escaping them. It would be catastrophic if he permitted himself to start thinking like that once again. To view you as anything more.

You become more vocal about your animosity, which then breaks his internal thinking, “Such a fucking loser. I can’t believe someone like you could even think you had a chance with Na Sohee. With your shit personality? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

In a matter of milliseconds, Sunghoon is back to fuming. Fuck, you just never know when to shut up, “I’m telling you. Seriously, stop it.”

The hotness in his chest is slowly consuming him, and you are doing absolutely nothing to ease him.

Instead, you simply fuel his anger. You put on a fake pout as the movements from your legs gradually widen. You even feel your dress start to hike up a bit, though not a single part of you had an ounce of care, “What? You’re gonna cry? Whiny baby gonna cry? Give me a break. You’re pathetic, truly. A pathetic piece of shit who’s gonna live a shitty life because you’re just too obsessed with yourself to be an actual, functioning person. Good riddance.”

Something snaps within Sunghoon that instantly makes his eyes go dark. You’ve done it. He told you to stop. He told you. The audacity you must have to blatantly disregard and talk down on him, makes him sick. Sunghoon gave you chances to stop. You didn’t. So, can he really be blamed for what’s about happen?

Similar to earlier, he doesn’t know what comes over him. His mouth moves before even a thought registers in his mind. With his eyes narrowing in vexation, and jawline prominent, Sunghoon erects himself from resting on the door. He’s now at his full height when he says the low, simple words, “Come here.”

You didn’t understand the threat that’s laced within the warning, so unbeknownst to you, you shoot up like a rocket taking off, “Gladly.”

There isn’t much room for you to go, but you do in fact make the quick trek to stand right in front of Sunghoon, whom of which harbors a dark and still expression. Even when you challenge him in stance, you glaring upwards to meet his eyes while he stares you down, you feel nothing. You’re not scared.

“What the fuck do you want?” You mutter through your teeth. Though, he heard you perfectly clear.

“What I want….” His wild eyes dart back and forth between your gaze, making sure you were really present for what he was about to say, “Is to put my hand around your throat, and make you shut the actual fuck up.”

And your heart drops.

You register his words- his threat. Scanning his face, you become aware of your heavy breathing because now, your heart is beating ten times faster. He stares at you right back. Coldly. Not a moment of regret is present in his eyes. He meant what he said.

What’s worse? You know that. Sunghoon’s not one to bluff, so you understand the words thrown at you were nothing short of the truth. Your heart begins to beat in your ears, with the acceleration almost deafening you. Yet, for some reason, you want to call him out.

You remain silent as you take one step closer to the fuming boy, scoffing. You don’t break eye contact, not once, not even as the pit of your stomach churns deliciously at his statement. It’s sadistic, how you already know the consequence to your upcoming response. But, that doesn’t stop you from going, in barely a whisper, “Then. Do it.”

Sunghoon’s unmoving, at least initially he was. Then, in a quick turn around, his hand goes flying in the air and grips onto your neck. Five fingers, all squeezing your skin. You immediately seize your breathing and your mouth falls agape, labored breaths tumbling from your open hole.

Sunghoon watches carefully your expression, and with all of his pent up thoughts, pent up feelings, pent up stress, all of it comes spilling out this moment, not another second was wasted, and soon he’s taking your lips within his.

A kiss is what you two share, if you can even call it that. His mouth envelopes your own, but there is no tenderness. No passion. You close your eyes, and follow down the rough path he started, the kiss increasingly becoming messier and sloppier.

Even with his hand around your pretty throat, you both continue kissing, the hatred and loathing seeping out from either ends consuming you two. There are no other thoughts. None of how wrong this is. Internally, you both sense the stirring feeling of regret, however, externally- lust and desire overrides it.

Until a brick of clarity hits.

Almost as if you two simultaneously awaken, you’re breaking away from one another. Sunghoon backpedals closer to the door and you and throw yourself towards the other end of the bathroom. You’re panting and so is he.

“What the fuck was that?” You grit, eyes scattering about. Did you seriously just make out with Park Sunghoon?

Sunghoon stays quiet as he tries to gather his own thoughts. Why did he just do that?

“You came in here to ambush me, didn’t you?” Throwing out an accusation, you find the kiss messed with your head more than you realized. It leaves you dizzy, disoriented, when you try to walk forward, you trip just slightly over your own feet.

He merely grunts, running a hand through his thick hair as a distraction, “Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Yeah, clearly…” You try to regain your senses, putting one foot in front of the other, when you lose your balance once more and fall into the sink. A few items resting on the counter fly off, and you instantly sigh as Sunghoon scoffs lightly, saying, ‘Great job.’

You tell him to, ‘Fuck off’, then swiftly drop to your knees. The objects are all haphazardly placed around the floor, and so while reaching to obtain them, back arching in the process, your dress begins to raise. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sunghoon.

His attention gets drawn to those same cotton white underwear he saw earlier this night. This time, they’re cheekily cutting into the lower fat of your ass, and another surge courses throughout him. Dammit. He’s averting his gaze, yet again. Each and every time, you rile him up. How? He’s already lost his mind when he went in to kiss you, how can he trust his thoughts to not progress things further?

Before he knows it, you’re rising to your feet and placing the items back on top of the counter, just as they were. You’re mumbling quietly to yourself during the duration, but Sunghoon could pick out snippets of your words: can’t believe, how did, fucking idiot. He almost wants to tell you to learn how to mutter better, though he knew you were doing it on purpose. You just love pissing him off.

You flip around towards him and in that moment he sees part of your lip tint is smeared off to the side; and for you, you realize part of his lips has been dyed a shade darker. At the recognition, you two glance off to opposite sides of the room. Stillness engulfs the air, until eventually you speak up.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Your voice is hushed, and this time when dragging your bottom lip in- you almost recoil from how your body throbs pleasantly at the taste. The taste of Sunghoon’s spit coats your skin.

“Well, it was an accident. So, calm down.” He throws his head against the door frame, still reeling in from his actions. Even though his mouth claims one thing, his fuzzy head somewhat misses the close interaction. And for some reason, Sunghoon doesn’t mind this fact.

You still can’t help but shudder from disbelief, “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Thank you.” He accompanies the sarcasm with a half-assed eye roll. He’s really not in the mood to hear you whine or complain.

“For real,” You slowly turn to face him, “You’re insane. And drunk.”

He raises an eyebrow tiredly, now looking at you through his eyelids, “So are you.”

“That’s not the point.” You don’t really know what the point is, just not that.

“Oh, really?” He stares at you with hooded eyes as those same thoughts from earlier slowly begin to enter his mind again. The longer he keeps looking at your unkempt stature, the more he finds that same itch fixing to be scratched. By you, “Then what is it? Hmm?”

There’s a change to how he’s looking at you, no, staring at you. It’s not the same as earlier, which was lustful yet hateful. Now, you think you only see one of them. You switch your eyesight to something else, hating the warm feeling that was arising in your pit, “The point is. I would never kiss you sober. Never.”

He’s quick to add on to that, “And I would never kiss you sober.”

“Good.” You say final. Despite whatever longing your body does for Sunghoon, you allow yourself to suppress those growing emotions. It was dangerous territory anyways. Why are you even in the bathroom still? Your urge to pee has been gone for some time now, and really the close proximity is making you enact on otherwise bottled up-

A ragged sigh flows from Sunghoon’s mouth, his skin tingling from a desperation that just has to be curated. Now that he’s gotten a little bit from you, he’s needy for the full thing. He’s needing you.

“Come back here.”

Without thinking, you turn to his wispy tone and immediately the two of you lock eyes. He’s waiting for you to do as he says, him standing still with a resting gaze. The intense contact has your stomach in knots, and you feel your legs shifting in suspense.

“Hey,” you watch his tainted mouth form the sentence, and unhurriedly he does a once over at your uneven dress. He then rakes his eyes back up to your face, and tilting his head down just the slightest bit, he lets out the faintest groan, “I said come back.”

Without thinking, movement starts up in your legs as you feel yourself walk over to him. The closer you get to him, though, the faster you notice your pace increases, until you ram straight into his body and capture his mouth inside of yours. The heat and intensity all comes rushing back to you, to you both, and you hate how good this feels.

As if you two had never parted from one another, the kiss transforms quickly back into the one from earlier, the same insatiable make-out. No longer a kiss, it’s a grueling act of roughness that has you melting. You’re moving your heads in a rhythm, tilting and parting when necessary. You get into a pattern of closing in on his lips before sucking gently on his lower one, opening your lips more, then repeating. When a low buzz passes through his mouth, happy with your treatment, you want to moan right back. You think you even felt it shoot straight down to your pussy.

Sunghoon takes a few steps forward, now moving away from the door. While still entangled in you, he begins walking you back until your ass hits the adjacent wall. When he slips his tongue slightly into your mouth, the action causes you to mewl accordingly. He’s kissing you with hunger, delving deeper and deeper into your whiny mouth, as more faint groans erupt from him. His body leans harshly into yours, and his pelvis pushes even harder against your own.

You relax onto the wall and feel his weight sink down on top of you, his heavy kissing making you addicted. You feel some growth develop below you, and soon a large bulge is pressing against your naked thigh. You’re so turned on by the feeling, the fact that you got him to this point, that even you could sense the slickness from your cunt beginning to coat your fabric.

Then, he’s tearing himself away from your lips, and immediately dives down for your neck. His mouth nips and bites at your skin, quickly finding a sole spot to focus on and delivers stimulation there. You lean your head to side and give him access to the area, your face grimacing from the pleasure. You go to moan from it, when he thrusts his clothed erection against your hips. He just couldn’t help himself, his cock is throbbing so fucking bad right now.

Your hands, which were messily laced throughout his hair, leisurely begin to work their way down. The two of you move in sync, as he’s nearly humping through the wall, and your hands travel all around Sunghoon. Tiny whimpers escape your throat from and every thrust, while his sucking provides the gratification you’ve been needing all night. You feel his tongue lap at your throat, but when his mouth encloses on itself, resulting in a bite, you scream out, “Ah- shit!”

Instantly, you grip his shoulders for support, him continuing to rut rather harshly into your lower half, while his teeth grab at your throat, essentially marking you up. He rotates his head until he’s near your sternum, kissing and licking at that area. You bite your lip when an ungodly whine nearly leaves you.

You’re breathing heavy as increasingly you become lost in the sensation overtaking you. Sunghoon’s worked his way down to your breasts, sucking only the top of both. He leaves dark marks strung about as he switches back and forth between the equally soft tissues. He stuffs his mouth full, basically coating your flesh in a immense amount of wetness.

When he lifts his head up for a brief second, first to make split eye contact with you, then he’s quick to raise up his hands up and yank down that little ass dress which hardly covered your tits.

Now with easier access, the moment he takes one of your flesh within his damp mouth, you gasps sharply, “Nrgh- my god. Sunghoon, fuck, that feels good.”

He doesn’t respond, though you feel his smile against your skin. Swirling and licking all over your nipple, he knows you’re feeling good. He senses it in the way you’re squirming underneath him, hands gripping his backside. He’s becoming increasingly aware of how much this is affecting you, your shaking body has proven that for him.

He pops over to your other breast, sucking fast and harsh for this one. Your hips begin to wiggle, the euphoria starting to become too much. Fuck, how did he make you so aroused in a matter of minutes? You continue to move about from his licking, when suddenly he pulls away. Removing himself from your supple mound, though staying eye level with it, he holds his lips mere inches away from the spot of pleasure.

He only peers up to look at you through his eyelashes, “Are you going to let me fuck you? I have to know what you feel like. Need to know what you feel like.”

You spew out a mewl from his words and feel yourself clench around nothing. Just him saying that makes your body weak. When going to answer him, a blatant, 'yes', so close from toppling out, you don’t realize a sneaky finger creeping its way underwear you dress, and pushing your underwear ever so gently to the side.

With your mouth already opened, a loud groan unintentionally bellows out from your gut, all in response to Sunghoon now circling your soaked clit. His eyes still remain on you, a whine abruptly follows after your groan.

“So, are you? You’re going to let me fuck you, right?” He asks yet again. The ripples of pleasure send you into a frenzy, your hips chasing alongside his digit. His adds a second finger to his stimulation, rubbing largely around your active bud, and you feel your eyelids fluttering open and shut.

You rest your head against the wall, a low grunt emitting from you, “Fuck..fuck you. You know-” before you can speak, he presses his digits into your thick skin, causing your eyes to shut tightly and pussy to contract, “Ah! You know I’m going to say yes.”

He keeps his hand right in the spot that produces the most pleasure for you, your body now shaking from the arousal. Oh, fuck. You’ve never been turned on so quickly before- and have been this close to cumming. He’s barely touched you, and you already feel the knot in your stomach beginning to loosen.

“Yeah?” he gives your cunt a rapid shake, wiggling the pads of his fingertips back and forth at speed that must be criminal to your already sensitive clit. Then, as you're seconds away from having your fastest orgasm, he alleviates you from the torture, “Okay, let’s go.” Unplunging his fingers, he removes his hand from under your dress.

“Wha….?” Shaking your head along the wall, you’re too much in a daze to even recognize what’s happening.

One second your drowning in ecstasy, when the next, Sunghoon’s guiding you over to the bathroom sink. He pulls you in front of him, then before you can think, he proceeds to bend you over the counter, your back flattening and ass spreading.

“Good, girl,” he murmurs more to himself, absolutely loving how easy it was to put you in this position. He knew deep down this is what your slutty ass would like. Who is he to stop you from having it? “Gonna fuck you nice and hard from right here. That okay?”

You go to say something, your head slowly lifting up, yet a hand just shoves your face down against the flat surface. It's horrible that you let out a whimper in response.

He wastes no time lifting your dress the rest of the way up- it had already failed to cover half of your ass, and with his free hand he trails your plush skin, preparing himself for when he wrecks you.

The light feel gives your cheek quickly turns into a harsh slap. Your skin jiggles from the impact and you scream as a reply. Sunghoon forces himself to stop a moan from slipping out, “Fuck, I already know you’re gonna take me so well.”

He does the action once more, with you moaning aloud once again, and then he’s ready. He’s practically already pantsless, from how fast he was able to pull them off. His rock, hard cock springs out proudly as Sunghoon relishes in the freedom, finally out of restraints. He’s been untouched for too long, and so he knew he needed you bad.

“Can already feel my cock pulsing, Y/N,” little clear beads bud out from the tip of his cock, just from looking at your sexy ass. He stroking his foreskin while hitting his lip. “You’re lucky I didn’t….”

He has to rethink what he was about to say. He was about to say, ‘Cum all over you’, though, he had plans for that later on. Don’t worry, you’ll see soon.

Aligning his hard-on with your entrance, and without sparing another minute, Sunghoon inserts himself straight and far into your pussy. The moment contact was made, the two of you move forwards slightly, with your head nearly hitting the wall. His cock is lodged so deep inside of you, you swear wholeheartedly, that he’s in your stomach.

“Oh, fuck!” Your eyes go white from the feeling. With him smushing your face hard against the counter, you were left practically immobilized when goes in for another thrust. And then another. And then another.

His hips soon fell into a rocking motion, and Sunghoon has to clench his ass from almost cumming inside of you the moment he sank himself into your forgiving hole, "Holy, fuck."

You feel yourself moving along with him, and your forehead scrunches from the indulgence, your face constantly changing and morphing the faster he pumps in and out of you. Your moans become choppy, disorganized, from the quick movements, “Ah- ah- oh, god…Sung…”

As your eyelids are squeezing shut, then popping wide open when a particularly sharp buck causes you to, you begin to realize that not once did he allow you time to adjust to his length. Just from the feeling, however, you already know that he’s big; but frankly, you did not care.

No, because immediately, you’re already succumbing to the growingly fast pace he’s only offered you. The kind that has you bouncing right back against him. And it feels so, so good.

He holds true to what he said earlier; he’s really is fucking you nice and hard. He's giving you everything you would want in a hook up session. And, you hate him for this. The fact that he felt he could just have free rein over your body. The way he didn’t even let you talk unless it’s to praise him. The fact that this is Park Sunghoon, completely drilling into your leaking backside with no remorse. All of it pisses you off so much.

But, you hate that you're also loving it so much. You love the sensation that builds within your core, and how it grows more and noticeable the quicker he thrusts. The more he keeps pounding into you, the more you feel the sensation change into utter bliss. The kind of pleasure that is going to have you finishing in merely seconds.

“Fu-uck, so fucking good,” He clenches his teeth while raising his head high, his hips continuing to buck deep inside of you, “So fucking good. Yeah, take me like the good brat you are.”

Sunghoon could get lost in this feeling forever. How you velvet walls wrap tightly, perfectly, around his throbbing, bulging cock. You squeeze out just the right amount of pressure that's making him see starts. It pleases him in a way he thinks he wouldn't be able to get anywhere else; from anyone else. Even if you irritate him to no fucking end, he’s always known you're good for something, something magnificent.

“Oh, fuck me,” His body contorts in half, folding in a similar manner to yours. His mouth hangs near you ear as he lets out a low buzzing moan, which falls delicately into your brain. “Oh. S-shit. You’re gonna let me cum inside you too, right? Right?”

He hammers his dick in and out of you, and soon, you find that he’s hitting your pleasure point. Now, it's game over. You begin more rounds of shrieking, mewing, crying; all because Sunghoon somehow found exactly what ruins you. You'll be done in no time.

You whine, “Stupid. Stupid- fucking... I hate you. Hate you so-”

“Answer,” he’s now wrapping his arms around your torso, his hips slamming harshly into your flesh. You better answer soon, or else he’s going to make the decision for you.

A sob bubbles out from your lips, though not a single tear flowed. You were so consumed in your rapture, it made you nearly wail.

“F-Fine! Fine, cum inside me, Sunghoon. Please, please-” a guttural moan gets in the way of you finishing and soon you grow limp. Little moans replace whatever it was you were going to say, and you wait for your orgasm to take over at any point.

You’re so aroused, you can’t even think straight.

Sunghoon’s heard enough. Oh, he’s heard plenty, actually. The moment he heard the slightest bit of confirmation, he relaxed himself into your body with the full intentions of you filling you to the brim with his sticky, thick load.

He’s already unclenched his ass and is just waiting for him cum to shoot out of him, which happens the moment he knicks the special spot that has his cock twitching and releasing hot fluids within your walls.

“Ohh, shit,” he grabs ahold of your hips and forces you close to him, as his dick spills out basically ounces of his semen all inside your pussy. He creams inside of you.

Your eyelids vibrate for the last time, "I'm- c-cumming..."

At the feeling of his orgasm, you quickly experience your own. Your eyes roll back. Your body becomes a trembling mess. Your cunt pulses so much that it’s milking Sunghoon dry, causing his overstimulated dick to shoot out spurts of remaining liquid.

“Fuck, Y/N, fuck.” Sunghoon’s hips stutter as he slows his thrusts down. You’re babbling you’re own incoherent sayings, still experiencing the after shakes of your explosive pop.

Although Sunghoon's climax is slow decreasing, him feeling his once hard cock now softening, he doesn't remove himself immediately.

No, he keeps himself inside of you, and relaxes his tired body, now drenched in both arousal and sweat, on top of yours. Both of you need a breather. And a breather was definitely taken. Which, after a few minutes of heaving panting, turned into a round 2, with this time, Sunghoon fucking you from the front.

While you two stayed in the bathroom for much longer than intended for, trying out different positions, or simply enclosing each other's lips over their own, there’s was an unspoken agreement. A peace treaty, as one might say.

Because, one thing is for certain.

Even if you allowed Sunghoon to continuously stick his dick inside of you round after round, or even as Sunghoon let himself get off to how horny you make him. Even as you two came over and over and over, consecutively…..

Neither of you would remember this night had ever happened, by the time morning came around.

Right?

- Bonus -

Your eyes crack faintly open, the sun shining directly onto you. It acts as a natural alarm for you, which, as you begin stirring awake and slowly sitting up, that fact almost annoys you.

You sit resting on a plush, comforting top, and only after a few bounces, you're able to register that you're in your on-campus apartment, on top of your bed. Though after a few more bounces, you quickly stop because the action begins to hurt your abdomen.

"Oh, god..." Croaking, you let out a good stretch. Then lazily, you swing your legs over your mattress and soon stand up. Your bladder is for some reason screaming at you to go pee.

Even as you shuffle softly into your bathroom, part of your brain must be turned off, because you sense that you're still so out of it from last night. You have no recollection. Of. Anything. You don't even have a memory of getting home, it was bad.

Quietly, you scold yourself for even allowing you to get so inebriated. You mentally said you wouldn't do this again, yet here you are, lost for your memories. You don't remember a single event from before pregamming with your friend, Jungwon.

Screw his stupid jungle juice. That's the last time you'll ever drink that abomination.

Flicking on the light to the bathroom, you find the artificial light creating an even greater headache for you, you squinting your eyes the whole way to the toilet.

Plopping down, you finally relieve yourself your, wipe, flush the toilet, then you're on your way back towards your sink, your head staying down the whole time.

You're mid-washing your hands, with you doing a brief glance upwards, when a quick scream leaves you from what you saw staring back at you.

Red splotches are marked all along your neck, some darker than others. It travels down, you can tell that much, though the random shirt you had on covers the rest.

You lean in closer to the mirror, extending your head up to see the full extent. Oh...is that a hand print? Your eyes go wide at this, the outline becoming much more apparent the longer you stared at the marking.

Just what the actual fuck happened last night?

» next

[studioeisa]

hard carry 🧮 mingyu x reader.

your math major soulmate is the only reason you’re surviving college, but how long can you rely on him for help?

★ math major!mingyu x art major!reader.  ★ word count: 2k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: college/university, alternate universe: soulmates (you and your soulmate can communicate with thoughts), romance, fluff, humor. a math term/solution i am not 100% sure about. reader’s thoughts are in pink while mingyu’s are in blue.   ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. when are @maplegyu and i not self-indulgent? alas, brainiac!kmg is one of my favorite versions of gyu— so i’m glad to finally have an excuse to play with it. ily, maple! 

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ hard carry by got7. no song without you by honne. in the same place by girls on top. let’s love by suho. lilac by iu. mariposa by peach tree rascals. love equation by vixx. common denominator by justin bieber.

Barnett Newman. Helen Frankenthaler. Mark Rothko. 

All fantastic abstract expressionist painters, known for their vibrant compositions and color-saturated canvases. Some of your peers turned their noses up at the movement, presumably because it always took a little more of a critical eye to understand it. 

You didn’t share the same distaste. Most of the time, you enjoyed the colors, lines, and shapes that all served to be a bigger part of a whole. 

If anything, the math problem in front of you was the most abstract thing you’d ever faced. 

You stare at the test paper, your pencil hovering uselessly above the page. The numbers have all blurred together— a mess of equations and symbols that could rival the work of Jackson Pollock. 

It’s almost comical, how you slot so easily into the stereotype of art-major-who’s-ass-at-math. Some people are an exception to the norm. You are not one of them. 

“Fifteen minutes left,” your hard-pressed professor drawls from the front of the classroom, and you snap out of your woe-is-me reverie.

Question five taunts you. If f(x) = 3x² - 4x + 7, find f'(x) and evaluate f'(2).

Derivatives. Okay. You know this. You should know this. 

Except, right now, your brain is a blank canvas.

You purse your lips. This isn’t going to bode well for you, but you’d held out this long. You’ll be lucky to get a C on this test— to pass by the skin of your teeth— and so you deserve to get at least one question indisputably correct. Right? 

Mingyu. You reach out through the bond, desperate. You there? 

Some have said that once you’ve met your soulmate, once you know how they sound like, it’s their voice that rings in your thoughts. If you haven’t, though, you’re left with something more akin to subtitles. Text flashing in your head in a font of your choosing. 

(Your poison is Courier New. You asked Mingyu once, what his font for you was, but he never really ‘got back’ to you on it.) 

There’s a pause— just long enough for you to feel guilty— before a response flashes in your mind. Aren’t you in the middle of a test? 

You can almost imagine his tone. You anticipate it’d be something sharp and warm all at once, which is just your way of coping with how desperate you feel right now. 

I’m seriously failing in the middle of my test, you respond. Hopefully, he can read how frantic and desperate you are. I just need a little nudge. 

A beat. 

You tack on, Please? 

If Mingyu could sigh, he probably would have by now. He’s a man carrying the weight of your academic shortcomings, after all. There’s just enough exasperation in his ‘tone’ when he shoots back, Fine. What is it? 

Your eyes dart over the problem plaguing you. Once you’ve mentally relayed it to your soulmate, he responds without missing a beat. 

Power rule. If you have something like axⁿ, the derivative is naxⁿ⁻¹. 

You blink. Say that like I’m five. 

So help me, God, Mingyu says, forcing you to tamp down a laugh. Okay. What’s 3x²? 

Uh… 6x? 

Good. And -4x? 

-4? 

And a constant? 

Zero— 

You sit up a little straighter, faltering mid-mental correspondence. So f’(x) is 6x - 4.

Mingyu can’t really sound amused— or proud— but you picture it all the same when he urges you to go on. And f’(2)? 

Your pencil is already scribbling furiously across your test paper. Eight, you triumphantly declare. The answer is eight. 

There you go, he answers. 

For not the first time, you wish you’d already met him. It must be nice to have a smile in your mind, a cadence instead of sentences. But you and Mingyu had agreed that neither of you were in a rush. You were both uni students wanting to explore your individual lives at your own pace before attempting a happily ever after. 

It’s only through your ironclad will that you’ve resisted the urge to look him up, to find out if there was a math major named Mingyu within your area.

This is the last time I’m going to help you cheat, he says as you move on to correct your answers for some of the other questions.

A corner of your mouth twitches upward. That’s what you said last time. 

Yeah, well, I mean it this time. Get a tutor or something, woman. 

Are you presenting yourself? 

Don’t tempt me with a good time. 

Your professor keeps you from responding immediately. “Five minutes,” she calls out. 

Your fingers tighten around your pencil. It wouldn’t be the first or last instance where academic integrity might be compromised because of the whole soulmate bond, but Mingyu is right. You can’t keep summoning him like your personal math genie. 

Fine, you concede. I’ll stop bothering you with my [math] problems. Nerd. 

Mingyu asked for it, so, really— he’s to blame for missing it. 

It’s an odd feeling, this restlessness that comes in the absence of your out-of-the-blue inquiries. The two of you still occasionally reach through the bond to exchange an amicable word or two, maybe recommend a song, but gone are the times you’d come running to him for help. 

He’s sitting in the library, his notebook opened to a half-finished proof. His pencil twirls idly between his fingers as he attempts to focus. Instead, his mind keeps drifting to what was once a daily occurrence. 

Panicked whispers of Mingyu, help. Last-minute pleas for salvation. Complaints about how math is ruining your life, how this would most definitely not be useful in the real world. 

(He would never admit it, but he had always liked when you tangented into the last one. It felt a bit like a betrayal to his field, the endearment he felt whenever you’d flood his mind with paragraph after paragraph cussing out Newton and Leibniz for inventing calculus.) 

With a sharp sigh, he stabs his pencil into the spiral binding of his notebook and leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. His fingers drum against the desk. His leg bounces. He debates reaching out first— just to check, just to make sure you haven’t actually given up on math altogether. But what would he even say?

Hey, fail another test yet? Are you alive, or did calculus finally take you out? I kind of miss you annoying me. Don’t let it go to your head.

No, no, and definitely not. 

He doesn’t even know you like that. You’re soulmates and that’s pretty much it. He’s lucky that you’ve been rather chill about the whole affair, not hurrying to meet him and lock him down like other soulmate horror stories he’s heard. 

He knows bits and pieces. Your major, your love for survival reality shows, your utter distaste for anything beyond multiplication. 

Mingyu mumbles something like “for fuck’s sake” to himself. He tries to refocus, and he manages to make it halfway into his homework when it comes. 

Mingyu. 

When you wanted to tell him something inconsequential, like The new Fantastic Four movie sucked or I’d kill for a slice of pizza right now, you went straight into it. You only ever ‘said’ his name when it was related to numbers. 

Took you long enough, he says, his lips twitching. 

Shut up. I was trying to figure it out on my own this time. 

And? 

Your brief moment of hesitation has Mingyu wondering if he’s too cruel. His mother had always advised him to be nice to his soulmate, to not overwhelm you, and he contemplates throwing in an apology. Before he can, though, you’re back in his head. 

I need you. 

Something in his chest tightens. He tells himself it’s just relief. 

(The truth of the matter is this: Mingyu liked being needed by you. He wasn’t sure yet why, but he did.) 

Yeah, yeah, he responds as he absentmindedly sketches a heart into the corner of his notebook. What’s the problem? 

You’re starting to think that a tutor might not be that bad of an idea. 

While Mingyu is always obliging, the guilt of relying on your connection was beginning to weigh on you. You scoured the university boards until you found a girl named Somi willing to meet with you twice a week, and it was going pretty well. 

Still— is it weird to admit that you kind of miss running to Mingyu? 

You try your darndest to keep those thoughts catalogued. A couple of your friends have talked about accidentally slipping some of their innermost thoughts to their soulmates, and God forbid Mingyu find out that you crave his dry wit. 

You can’t miss somebody you’ve never met. 

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself as you go to Mingyu less and less, instead filling in the gaps of your conversation with menial, everyday things. 

What coffee do you usually drink?, you ask him one afternoon. 

You’re in the world’s slowest-moving line, at the cafe you and Somi frequented for your tutoring sessions. Your phone is dead, you’ve analyzed the art on the walls at least seven different ways, and there’s no one around for you to talk to. Might as well abuse the soulmate connection. 

His response comes in by the time you’re nearly at the front of the line. Iced Americano, he responds. Why? 

No reason. 

“Next.” 

You offer a sympathetic smile to the dead-eyed barista at the counter. “Once large iced Americano, please,” you say. 

You go to stand off to the side. As you’re waiting for your order, Mingyu asks a question of his own. 

What about you? 

What about me? 

What’s your go-to order? 

You contemplate it for a moment. Salted caramel cream cold brew. 

The barista hands you your drink. A corner of your lip twitches upward as you accept it, Mingyu’s response coming in at the same time. 

That sounds obscene, he taunts. A toothache in the making. 

Hey. You’re mentally britsling, readying to defend your coffee of choice. I’ll have you know— 

“Oomf!” 

This was sometimes the problem about getting lost in your thoughts. You tend to get dragged out of the real world, stuck in your conversation. You exchange a quick apology with the person you bumped into, the tips of your ears flaming red. 

With your drink in hand, you make a beeline for the table that you and Somi always sit at. You’re distracted enough to forget that you were mid-‘conversation’ with Mingyu, and so you barely register that your usually punctual tutor has yet to arrive— or that someone else is coming up to your table once you’ve settled in. 

Later, you will get a text from Somi telling you something came up, but not to fret; she called in a friend to help. Someone who was more than willing to pick up Somi’s slack after joking that he’d already been doing it for the soon-to-be-love-of-his-life. 

Your gaze flicks up to the boy standing in front of you. 

‘Cute.’ ‘Cute.’ 

It’s a two-way record scratch. 

The stranger hovering by your table seems to freeze, too, and the pieces fall together in your head like a puzzle— no. It’s like when you squint at an abstract painting and the whole thing comes together.

You had said sorry earlier, hadn’t you? To the person you bumped into. He had apologized as well. 

Now, there was a voice to the words in your head. A face to the soulmate you’d been missing.

“Hey,” your soulmate says, he says out loud. 

He plops down into the seat across from you, trying and failing to fight off the biggest smile on his face. There’s no need to exchange introductions. He says your name, and it’s so much better than anything you could have ever imagined. 

When Mingyu sets down his drink, you actually laugh. 

It’s a salted caramel cream cold brew. 

[solxamber]

i love your writing style smmm so could i request headcanons for ace (or any other charas if youd like ^^) reacting to a fem reader who usually wears really baggy outfits to hide the fact that theyre a girl and just generally doesnt really care too much if she looks presentable, suddenly getting dragged away and all dolled up because vil or someone sees their potential or just hates seeing them all disheveled. Would be really funny to see reader wearing clothes that shouldnt suit their usual messy but wearing clothes catered to their right gender just somehow compliments them in every way (maybe a little like haruhi from ouran lol)

Ace, Deuce reacting to a Glow Up

a/n: added deuce cause i can't separate adeuce, sorry for the long wait, i hope you like it <3

Ace Trappola

Ace isn’t the type to pay attention to small details, but when he sees you walking into the cafeteria all dolled up, he practically chokes on his drink. He does an actual spit-take, earning glares from everyone around him.

“Wait, what the—THAT’S the prefect?! No way! Did Vil brainwash you or something?”

True to form, Ace masks his flustered reaction with relentless teasing.

“Whoa, are you trying to get someone’s attention or what? Who’s the lucky guy, huh?”

But deep down, his brain is screaming, Oh no. They’re way too cute. Abort mission.

He cannot stop staring. He thinks he’s being subtle, but he’s absolutely not. Every time you look up, you catch him gawking at you from across the room. When you call him out on it, he quickly looks away and mutters, “W-What? No, I wasn’t staring. You’re imagining things.”

Ace keeps slipping up and saying things he doesn’t mean to out loud.

“I mean, you look… uh, decent, I guess.”

Five minutes later: “Okay, fine, you look great, but don’t let it go to your head!”

If anyone else compliments you, Ace suddenly gets super competitive.

“Oh, sure, they look good, but it’s not like that big of a deal. I mean, I’ve seen them in worse.”

He’s secretly seething every time someone even glances your way, but he plays it off with his usual cocky attitude.

He also starts overcompensating. Ace starts trying to act cooler around you to match your new look, which inevitably backfires. He’ll lean casually against a wall, trip over his own feet, and then pretend it didn’t happen.

“Yeah, uh… totally meant to do that. Just testing the floor’s stability.”

Despite all the teasing, Ace can’t help but soften a bit. He starts doing little things, like carrying your books or offering to help you with classwork (even though he’s probably worse at it than you are).

“What? I’m just being nice. Don’t read into it, okay?”

If you thank him or genuinely compliment him in return, Ace loses all composure.

“Y-Yeah, well, don’t get used to it! I’m not your servant or anything!”

Later, when he’s with Deuce and Grim, he won’t stop bringing up how “weird” it is to see you like this.

“It’s not that I care or anything, but like… did you see them? Who knew they could clean up like that? Crazy, right?”

Deuce, who has caught on, just side-eyes him. “Dude, you’re obsessed.”

One day, while you’re back in your baggy clothes, Ace blurts out:

“You know, you looked good all dressed up, but you’re fine like this too… Not like I care or anything!”

His face turns bright red, and he immediately backtracks, leaving you laughing at his expense.

In the Long Term:

He continues teasing you, but it’s lighter and less frequent, like he’s trying to cover up how much he actually liked seeing this new side of you.

Eventually, Ace becomes oddly protective of you when Vil tries to drag you off for another makeover. “Hey, leave them alone! They’re fine the way they are!”

He’ll never outright admit it, but your glow-up has him reevaluating his feelings—and now he’s in even deeper than before.

Deuce Spade

Deuce sees you walk into the cafeteria, and his entire brain just shuts down. He stops mid-bite of his lunch, fork suspended in the air, staring at you like he’s just seen a ghost.

“...Is that… the prefect?” he whispers, nearly dropping his plate.

Deuce attempts to act normal, but he’s about as subtle as a brick through a window.

“Oh, hey! You, uh, look different. I mean, not in a bad way! Like, uh, good different! Wait, not that you didn’t look good before! I mean—uh…”

Cue him tripping over his own feet while trying to keep up with you.

He genuinely believes Vil might’ve forced you into this makeover.

“Are you okay? Did Vil threaten you or something? Blink twice if you need help!”

When you laugh and explain it was more or less voluntary, Deuce blushes furiously and mutters, “Oh. Well, um… you look really nice.”

When other students start complimenting you, Deuce doesn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he’s proud that everyone is noticing how amazing you are. On the other, he’s irrationally annoyed by how much attention you’re getting.

“Yeah, yeah, they look great, okay? You don’t have to keep saying it!”

If anyone gets too bold with their compliments or tries to flirt with you, Deuce is immediately stepping in.

“Hey, back off! They don’t need your input!”

You have to gently remind him that people are just being nice.

No matter how hard he tries, Deuce keeps sneaking glances at you. When you catch him, he looks away so fast he almost gives himself whiplash.

“I wasn’t staring! I just… thought I saw something behind you!”

Deuce isn’t the smoothest when it comes to expressing his feelings, but he tries his best.

“You… you look amazing. Not that you didn’t before! But, uh, this is, like… wow. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

While Ace might tease you about your glow-up, Deuce’s first thought is whether or not you’re okay with all the attention.

"If you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything, just let me know, okay? I’ll tell everyone to back off.”

Deuce starts doing little things to make you smile, like grabbing extra napkins for you at lunch or awkwardly trying to help carry your things. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time.

Later that night, Deuce vents to Epel, pacing around the room.

“I mean, they’ve always been great, but now they look so… I don’t know! It’s distracting! What am I supposed to do, Epel?!”

Epel, munching on snacks, just rolls his eyes. “Wow, you’re hopeless.”

One day, when you’re back to your usual baggy clothes, Deuce finally works up the courage to say something genuine.

“You know, I thought you looked amazing all dressed up, but honestly? You don’t need all that. You’re already perfect the way you are.”

He says it so earnestly that you can’t help but smile, and his face immediately turns bright red. “I-I mean, uh, not perfect! I just—uh, never mind!”

In the Long Term:

Deuce continues to be your biggest supporter, quietly cheering you on from the sidelines while trying not to make his feelings too obvious.

He’s protective in the sweetest way, always ready to step in if Vil pushes you too hard or if anyone makes you uncomfortable.

Every once in a while, he’ll bring up how great you looked during your glow-up, but it’s always with a shy smile and a soft tone. It’s clear he liked it, but he also thinks you’re amazing just as you are.

Over time, Deuce starts to realize just how much he cares for you, and your glow-up only solidified what he was already feeling.

Masterlist

i didn't focus on the gender much but if that part is important let me know