sunghoon completely distracts intak’s attention away from you, the poor boy unaware of sunghoon’s true intentions as they get to know each other and talk shit about the professor they share. and you’re pissed, lips parting in shock as sunghoon and intak just left you out like that, despite still being in between them. “oh, what the fuck!” you groan out loud, uncaring of making a scene in front of intak. you shove past sunghoon, a scowl on your face as you carry yourself and your red solo cup filled with jungle juice, to the couch where sunghoon was previously sitting at.

heeseung raises a brow at your appearance, pushing through the crowds before plopping down on the empty end of the couch. “damn. cockblocked?” heeseung asks, though rhetorically since he already knew the answer. jake tsks in response, shaking his head as he lets out an audible sigh through the loud bass of the music, he saw it coming from a mile away. 

you only roll your eyes, nose scrunched up as you take a swig of the jungle juice. “intak was totally about to take me home, too!” you grumble, pouting into your drink that’s pressed up against your lips, eyeing sunghoon and intak’s conversation.

after lingering at the party for a while (alone, might you add), sunghoon eventually departs from his long ass conversation with intak. “c’mon, let’s take you home,” he says as he walks up to you, sitting and pouting on the couch beside his friends who tried to cheer you up, but their efforts were in vain. 

you huff, giving him the cold shoulder but you stand up anyway, tilting your head up snobbishly as you make a beeline to the door. he was your ride back home anyway (intak would have been, if sunghoon didn’t cockblock you), so you don’t really have a snarky retort to say back to him.

sunghoon only chuckles at your attitude, giving a goodbye wave to his friends before following after you. he throws an arm over your shoulder when he catches up to you, the cool air of the night welcoming the both of you when you step outside the frat house. “aww, what’s got you all pouty?” he asks, feigning innocence as he pokes at your puffed out cheeks.

you frown, brows knitting together tightly as you give him a pointed look that screams ‘you! you dipshit.’ and yeah, sunghoon knows very well it was him, and he couldn’t be more proud of himself.

he keeps his arm draped over your shoulders, taking his car keys out to unlock the doors. the car beeps in response, opening up the passenger door for you before playfully shoving your shoulder to get you inside. you dramatically fall into the seat, trying to make him feel somewhat bad, but he only grins at you unapologetically. 

the drive back home was silent, save for the muffled radio, as you look out your window solemnly. you act like you’ve lost everything in your life, your job, money, family, when really you’ve only just lost a potential boyfriend, but tomato, tomato!

sunghoon side eyes you, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while his other relaxes on the center console of the car. he chuckles at your still pouty face, rolling his eyes. “seriously? you really thought you would have a chance with him? he says bluntly, a frown ghosting his face but he quickly replaces it with a neutral expression.

you curl into yourself at his mean words. “he was literally offering to take me home, sunghoon. you totally ruined it for me,” you mumble, frowning as you stare at your reflection through the window. this would not mark the first time sunghoon had ruined something potential for you, he’s always quick to shut you or them off, and it pisses you off to no end. he’s always throwing around claims that you’re too good for them, or they are too good for you. which fucking one is it, sunghoon?

sunghoon’s brows furrow at your words, the corner of his lips twitching into a frown. “he was only going to do that to be nice. did you expect something to happen out of it?” he says dryly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as his eyes zone in even more on the road in front of him as if distracting himself from your point on intak.

“yes, i did! he was being really touchy, which is always a good sign. and he was matching my flirting,” you continue defend yourself, but it won’t make a difference. you’re not in intak’s car. you’re in sunghoon’s car. 

sunghoon doesn’t say anything else, leaving the conversation hanging. he knows he’s right. you know that sunghoon’s right. after all, he’s your best friend. he has the best intentions for you, right?

he pulls up in your apartment that you share with a few other girls, and he thinks about bringing up how you should just move in with him. there’s so many better benefits living with him than being cramped in an apartment with three other girls, but he digresses. you’ll just brush him off again. he turns his head to look at you, head leaned against the headrest. his eyes brush over your figure before he meets your face again. “goodnight,” he says casually.

you squint your eyes at him, wanting to stay mad, but you can’t. you sigh, playfully rolling your eyes while unbuckling your seatbelt. “goodnight, hoon.” 

the question of how you’re even friends with sunghoon hangs in the air as you leave his car. but oh, sunghoon knows it all too well. 

he remembers– sophomore year of high school, when he got partnered up with you for a stupid history project. the two of you fought the entire evening at the library about which era of history you wanted to do. nothing got done that day, the both of you couldn’t even decide on a topic before you got kicked out because you both were yelling talking too loud. 

but then you guys were able to finally get to an agreement (even though sunghoon still would’ve preferred to do the industrial revolution, but whatever), and after that, it was smooth sailing. the project went by so fast, the two of you working like two peas in a pod. when the project came to an end, and the both of you had no longer any reason to talk to each other, he started to get desperate.

“you wanna study for chem together?” he would ask in a soft whisper, leaning his side towards you while keeping an eye on the history teacher that’s lecturing. 

you would then give him that scowl he always expects nowadays whenever he said something stupid that he already knew the answer to. “i don’t have chem. i’m taking physics.”

“oh. right. then how about stats?” he would try again, brows raising a bit in interest to gauge out your reply.

“... i’m taking calculus,” you would answer, but you had forgotten that you were in a class setting, your voice was at its normal speaking level. you got your first detention that day.

but sunghoon didn’t, the teacher only caught you speaking despite you trying to throw sunghoon under the bus. don’t worry though, sunghoon spent the rest of his classes, stirring up trouble to get detention with you. although he did get detention for the week instead of just a day, but he thought it was worth it anyway. 

sunghoon was planning the entire time in his last class before detention, thinking about what topics to talk about with you so that the two of you weren’t just going to sit in complete and awkward silence. but his plans get shattered when he walks in, a triumphant grin on his face (even though he didn’t even win anything??) falling within seconds when he hears you laugh, spotting jake sitting across from you. 

what the fuck. he stares at the two of you, unaware of his entrance until the teacher tells you and jake to be quiet before directing his gaze back at sunghoon, instructing him to sit down. sunghoon plops on the chair beside you, giving jake a scrutinizing gaze that speaks when the fuck did you get detention?!

to which, jake tells sunghoon that he got caught throwing paper airplanes at jay’s head during calculus. but all sunghoon got from that answer was that you and jake shared a common class– calculus. fuck, maybe he should have listened to his counselor when they told him to take calculus instead of statistics. 

and after a long two and a half hours of painful silence after the teacher yelled at the three of you to stop chatting, detention was finally over. jake had to rush to leave, catching the soccer coach to tell him why he had to miss practice, leaving you and sunghoon together. 

“it’s getting dark. do you walk home?” he asked, throwing his backpack over his shoulder as he watched you pack up. 

you nod in response, eyes flickering over to the window. the sun hadn’t even set yet. “i do. it’s not too far, maybe ten minutes,” you shrugged, adjusting the straps of your own backpack.

“i’ll walk you then,” he said simply, walking out of the classroom, not bothering to look behind him to make sure that you were even following him. at the time, you looked over at how he didn’t leave any room for argument. he really hadn’t changed since.

“holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!” you practically squeal, your eyes glued to your phone as you’re walking over to sunghoon’s car. sunghoon merely furrows his brow in confusion, his back leaned against the door of the car from waiting for your class to end. 

“fucking finally. what took you so long? i thought you ended at 1:30. not 1:50,” he grumbled, clearly displeased over waiting twenty minutes for you. 

you finally peel your eyes away from your phone, a way too happy grin on your face that makes sunghoon suspicious. “intak gave me his number! he waited outside of my lecture, found me, and asked me out! isn’t that so cute?” you gush, walking over to the passenger side of his car and getting in. 

sunghoon follows suit, except his expression is now sour. his jaw ticked, sliding into the driver's seat but he doesn’t make a move to buckle his seatbelt. “how does he know where your lecture is?” he asks before scoffing, “stalker much?”

you shrug. “i think jake told him. they share accounting together,” you respond, not noticing your best friend’s mood practically deflating like a popped balloon since you’re so zoned in on your phone, replying to a text to intak. 

without thinking, sunghoon snatched your phone from your hands. his eyes skimmed through the exchanged messages, a smirk on his face. “hey! give it back to me! what’re you doing?!” you exclaim, your hands reaching to grab your phone back but sunghoon is quicker, smushing your face away so that your hands aren’t in reach to grab your phone. 

“this is real cute, y/n. i love the part where you try to be all mysterious. ‘pick me up at eight?’” he mocks you, his voice going up a few pitches higher which only makes you more irritated. 

“shut up! give it back to me now, seriously!” you whine, practically fighting with his hand pressed against the side of your face but he’s relentless, using his strength to his advantage to keep you at an arm’s distance. 

sunghoon only chuckles at your weak efforts to steal your phone back. “ooh, look. he just replied to you. he said he’ll be there and that he’s real excited to see you. it’d be a true shame if i…” he clears his throat, his thumb pressing on the microphone button, “yo, intak. it’s sunghoon, you remember me, right? heard delta gamma’s hosting a killer party tonight. you’re coming, right? someone’s gotta hold the keg for me. see you there!” send.

you furrow your brows at sunghoon, stopping your flailing arms to push his hand away from your face. “what are you doing?! he already agreed to tonight, there’s no way he’ll agree to go,” you scoff, having full confidence in intak. 

sunghoon tilts his head at you curiously, a thick brow cocked up and an infuriating smirk on his face. “yeah? oh, look. he’s typing. what’s he saying… ugh blah blah why do you have y/n’s phone… oh! he said he’ll be at the party tonight. guess your little date is canceled,” he says with a casual shrug, tossing your phone carelessly onto your lap and letting your face go. 

you quickly grab your phone, not believing what sunghoon said. but intak really did agree to go to the party. you clench your jaw, an upset frown on your face. when you don’t say anything, sunghoon rolls his eyes, “oh, come on, y/n. i bet he wasn’t even going to take you anywhere special. probably somewhere where he takes every other girl to, you’re not special.”

your entire face falls. you were already frowning, but now you’re just staring at sunghoon, eyes empty. sunghoon looks back at you after a small chuckle at himself, but he quickly shuts up when he notices your expression. 

“what? don’t give me that face,” sunghoon says, an agitated frown now appearing on his face, his brows furrowing as he has the audacity to look confused. 

you don’t say anything. you just turn your head away, looking out the window. “just take me back home,” you mumble, ignoring your phone buzzing with texts from intak.

sunghoon’s eyes narrow at you, watching you practically throw a pouty fit as you look out his window like you were in a sitcom movie. he sighs, rolling his eyes before extending out his hand and grabbing your face to look at him again. his fingers squish at your cheeks, making your lips pout out. “nah. i’m hungry so we’re going out to eat,” he says simply, letting go of you before clicking on his seatbelt and turning on the engine of his car. 

you blink at him. then you scoff, rolling your eyes as you make a show of being pissed off, turning your entire body towards the door with your arms crossed over your chest. sunghoon merely glances at you at the corner of his eyes, his smirk resting on his lips as he pulls out of the parking lot wordlessly. 

sunghoon parks in front of some dessert shop. you’re still stubbornly looking out the window, not even aware that he’s looking at you now. he smirks again, nudging your shoulder across the center console. “fine. stay in here while i enjoy a good ol’ yogurt bowl myself.”

you almost immediately turn in your seat, looking at him first before you direct your attention to the shop you’re parked in front of. your favorite yogurt shop. you always get this when you don’t feel like eating a whole, heavy meal but still need to eat something. 

before you can say anything, sunghoon’s already getting out of the car. he holds his key up tauntingly through the window, his thumb hovering over the lock button to threaten locking you in his car. you fumble with the car handle, pushing it open just before he can lock you in. 

“i hate you,” you grumble, narrowing your eyes at him but you’re already walking towards the shop’s door. 

“i hate you more,” he drawls with a lazy grin, following you inside. 

after you both order and get your bowls, you slide into a booth seat. sunghoon slides in beside you instead of the opposite side. you stare at him with disgust as you scoop up the yogurt filled with berries and other toppings. 

“what? don’t look at me like that. i paid for your bowl,” he says in a sassy manner, and you crinkle your nose at him. you don’t say anything back, deciding to enjoy your bowl in peace. you both eat in silence for a bit. 

and with his fast appetite, he finishes first while you’re only halfway through. he stares at you from the side, watching you take slow bites. he rolls his eyes. “come on, bro. we don’t got all day for you to eat like a sloth,” he scoffs. 

you ignore him, now purposefully moving your spoon slowly up to your lips like an actual sloth. 

his own eyes squint at you. 

“alright,” is all he says before he’s grabbing your face with one hand, his other taking your spoon out of your hand. he scoops up a big bite, and before you can protest, he shoves the spoon into your mouth. he mockingly makes you chew with his hand on your jaw, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. 

“see? not that hard to eat like a normal person.”

sunghoon insists that you stay at his place so he can take you to delta gamma’s party instead of you going back to yours. evidently, as you sit on the edge of his bed with your arms crossed, you lost the battle. 

“i need to go back to get ready,” you insist, deciding to still not give up on the fight. 

sunghoon’s typing on his laptop, doing some work. he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “get ready? you look the same every time. you’re fine,” he mumbles, leaning in a bit to look closer at his laptop screen. 

your lips part in offense. you scoff. “ugh, rude much!? i’m literally wearing jeans and a top. i need to change. intak will be there,” you say as if that’ll change sunghoon’s mind. 

it only sets him more determined to keep you here. 

“if you think changing into… what? some skirt and a top that shows off your tits will change intak’s mind, then you should just give up already,” he says simply, still not looking at you. 

you frown. “well, maybe it’s because i also want to feel pretty for myself? god, not everything’s about wanting to dress up for intak…” you mutter, even though intak is probably about 70% of why you want to go back to your apartment to change. 

sunghoon glances up at his laptop to look at you. “good. that’s how it should be.”

hours later, you show up to the party with sunghoon. you’re following behind him at first, on your phone, texting intak to ask if he was here yet. sunghoon notices you trailing back a bit, and he scowls. 

he grabs your wrist and tugs you forward to move you in front of him instead of behind. you stumble, your brows furrowing in confusion up at him. “what?? i was literally right behind you,” you grumble. 

you don’t wait for him to respond as you continue to walk forward into the party, sending out one last text to intak to tell him that you were at the party already. sunghoon looks at your phone screen over your shoulder and rolls his eyes. 

heesueng approaches the two of you alongside with jake. they greet sunghoon first with loud shouts. jake throws an arm around your shoulder, glancing at your phone just before you shut it and pocket it away. he grins at you. “oooh, making moves?” jake teases. 

you smile, shoving him playfully. “well, my move was originally better with a planned date,” you say, emphasizing date as you glance over at sunghoon. jake caught the insinuation that sunghoon ruined it for you. 

he unloops his arm around your shoulders, pushing your back forward towards the main party to get away from the doorway. “just means you gotta make it up here instead,” he whispers in your ear so that sunghoon won’t hear. 

sunghoon’s staring at you and jake the whole interaction. 

you don’t know how many hours has passed. maybe minutes? time blurred after a few shots, and by few, more like 6-7 shots. you’re laughing and dancing with your friends and some strangers, surrounded by them before a hand touches your shoulder. 

you glance up, seeing that it was intak. your eyes light up. “oh my gosh! hey, you found me!” you grin happily, turning around fully to face your body towards him. 

intak smiles down at you, dimples peeking out. he has a red solo cup in his hand, hat backwards on his head. “yeah, ‘course i did. it wasn’t hard to find you. it’s like you have a spotlight shining down on you,” he flirts, and it sounds so genuine and cute from him that your drunk smile falters with awe. 

you part the dance circle with your hand in intak’s as he leads you away. you don’t even hesitate, the alcohol making you more courageous yet oblivious to sunghoon stilling in the dance circle, watching your backs disappear in the crowd. 

you spend the majority of the party alongside intak. he introduces you to his friends, but doesn’t linger long. you find it romantic. he wants you to meet his friends, but he also wants to still spend alone time with you. 

sunghoon fucking hates it. 

“he’s hogging her.” sunghoon’s voice comes out as a low growl, sulking in the corner of the couch. his eyes are absentmindedly watching people dance, totally (definitely not) finding it more entertaining than watching you be all touchy with intak in the corner of the house. 

heeseung and jake don’t bother hiding their eyes watching you and intak. 

“sounds a lot like someone i know,” heeseung remarks, sharing a glance with jake. they both snicker.

sunghoon’s brows furrow, sharp eyes darting over to them. “fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

heeseung raises his hands in mock surrender. “man, come on. she looks like she’s having a good time. leave her alone,” jake interjects, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. 

sunghoon scowls. wordlessly, he gets up but he doesn’t move to you. he moves to the kitchen instead, pouring himself another drink. heeseung sits up straighter on the couch, watching sunghoon from a distance. 

“...shit. should we stop him?” heeseung asks, grimacing slightly as he watches sunghoon continue to pour vodka in the red solo cup. 

jake visibly winces as he sees sunghoon down the liquor as if he’s the one who drank it. “...naahhh…he knows his limits…”

moments before absolute disaster. 

“can i kiss you?” intak asks you. he’s slightly leaning down, just enough to tower over you but he’s the one with his back against the wall. totally voluntary, by the way. 

you smile, your head tilting up at him cheekily. “i’d like that,” you hum, going on your tippy toes to meet your lips with his. your hand reaches up, holding his jaw. he reacts instantly, kissing you back. it’s soft, cute, nothing like the other students messily making out around you. 

you both smile against each other. “don’t pull away. c’mere,” he whispers, bringing your face to his again to kiss you again when you pull away slightly. the kiss becomes more deliberate. the bumping frat music blurs in the background, and you focus on the feeling of his lips moving against yours. 

suddenly, you feel a sharp tug on your hair. you moan into his mouth, not yet realizing that intak has both of his hands cupping your face…

then, the tug is sharper, harder. enough to force your lips away from intak. “woah, i–” you’re about to make some joke about how you didn’t know how rough he could be, but intak’s own surprised face confuses you. 

“what’s your deal?” intak says first, his eyes not on you but on sunghoon behind you. “we were kinda doing something.”

“i saw that,” sunghoon responds plainly, his fingers still tangled in your hair. you’re so fucking confused. you try to get your head out of his hold, but his fingers only tighten, making you yelp softly. 

“let go, man. you’re hurting her,” intak frowns, his eyes darting over to where sunghoon’s hand is in your hair. 

sunghoon smirks, a mocking, dry chuckle escaping his lips. “oh, am i? nah, i know what she likes.” he looks down at you with low-lidded eyes. he’s clearly intoxicated, way past his usual threshold of how much he drinks. 

his smirk only widens when you don’t say anything. “see? she knows too. i’m her best friend. i know what she can handle.”

you finally sputter out something when you’re out of your shocked daze. “sunghoon! let me go, what the hell is wrong with you!?” 

sunghoon blinks down at you, unmoving. then, his smirk disappears. “i’m drunk. you have to take care of me,” he says plainly. his words aren’t even slurring, not really. he still has control even under the influence of alcohol. 

it’s scary, honestly. 

when you just scoff at him, he suddenly dips his head into the crook of your neck. “i’m drunk. you have to take care of me,” he repeats, his lips brushing against your skin. “take me home. my keys are in my front pocket,” he mumbles softly. 

you hesitate. he turns his head in your neck, nose brushing against the side of your throat. “please,” he murmurs. 

your hands are moving before you know it. you dig your hand into his front pocket, finding his keys with ease. you turn to intak, a frown on your face. “i’m so sorry…” you apologize with a soft sigh. “i’ll text you…?”

intak glances at sunghoon still resting his head against your neck so intimately. he runs a hand through his hair, lips pursed. “yeahhh… i dunno. i’ll see,” he says vaguely before he leaves. 

your lips part, shoulders deflating with disappointment. you don’t notice it, but sunghoon smiles against your shoulder when he hears intak leave.

struggling, you manage to drag sunghoon to his car. you drive to his place, then try to haul him to his room. “sunghoon… you have to carry your weight. you’re so heavy…” you mutter. 

his head lolls lazily, temple resting on the top of your head. “mm…coulda’ asked jake or heeseung…” he mumbles his eyes heavy and blurry. he barely makes out his room. 

“jake and heeseung already left! why did you suddenly drink so much?” you sigh. before sunghoon can answer, he’s toppling over. you gasp, trying to catch him. he also tries to use you to catch himself. you land clumsily on his bed (thankfully) with sunghoon’s weight on top of you. 

“ugh! oh my god, you smell like cheap vodka. get off of me!” you whine, trying to push him off of you. clearly, his time at the gym has paid off as he doesn’t move an inch off of you. you huff in frustration, laying on his bed flatly, exasperated. 

sunghoon groans into your neck when you fail to move him off of you. “stop…don’t move. this is how it’s supposed to be…” he mumbles. your brows furrow in confusion, lips parting to ask him what the hell that means, but he speaks again before you can. “saw you kissin’ him.”

you blink up at his ceiling. “uh…yeah?”

“was it good?” he asks as he uses his palms on either side of your head to prop himself off of you. he hovers over you now, blinking down at you lazily. 

you raise an eyebrow at him. “yes. it was good. now can you get off of me? you’re making me smell like vodka,” you reply dryly, rolling your eyes. 

“mm…” he hums, seemingly in thought. his eyes don’t leave yours. “better than me?” 

your eyes dart over to his face, brows furrowing in confusion. “what? we have never–”

his head dips before you can react. his lips press against yours, feverishly. he doesn’t wait for you to kiss him back, his lips already moving against yours. but he knows you. he knows your body. and your body reacts instantly to him, like it was instinct. 

he pulls away, his breathing already ragged. yours is too. “better than me?” he asks again, his eyes no longer locked on your eyes. he’s focused on your parted, kiss-bitten lips. 

you swallow thickly. “...i-it… was different.”

sunghoon doesn’t ask how. he kisses you again, and he doesn’t waste time. he doesn’t try to do what intak does with the stupid, soft kissing. he kisses you with purpose, like he’s trying to engrain himself onto your lips. 

“i’m better,” he breathes against your lips before he slides his tongue into your mouth. you whimper in response, feeling his tongue mesh with yours. 

“say it,” he mumbles. 

you swear you mishear his voice.

“come on. say it. say i’m better…” he pants out, pulling back just enough to see your face. his brows are furrowed, the corner of his lips forming a hint of a frown. 

he was whining. 

whining, asking you to say he’s better than intak. 

you break into an incredulous smile. “seriously?”

his frown disappears. it’s replaced by a dead, serious look. his gaze is sharp. “very fucking serious. now, are you going to tell me i’m better than that fucking loser or not?” he asks, and you’re not sure when his hand traveled to wrap around your throat. 

he’s not applying pressure, but his hand is there. it’s claiming, it’s a threat. 

“yes–yes, you’re better. way better,” you whimper out, your chest heaving up and down against his arm. 

he smiles. “i know i am, baby,” he mumbles as he dips his head back into your neck. he mouths at your soft skin, his tongue lapping where his lips were. he kisses down your neck like you’re the only thing he wants to taste. 

“you’re gonna let me take this off right? for me?” he murmurs as he pulls back enough to paw at your top. the top he refused you to change out of earlier. you nod, biting on your bottom lip as you help him with taking it off. 

he drops it carelessly to the floor beside his bed. he mouths your tits, forcefully pulling down your bra like a mere annoying obstacle. he groans around your nipple, practically burying half of his face in your tits. 

“i’m hot. take my shirt off of me,” he instructs you, leaning off of you to sit up between your spread thighs. you catch your breath, practically getting whiplash from his actions and words contradicting constantly. but you move, hands peeling his shirt over his head. 

he takes his shirt out of your hand before you can toss it to join your top. “the ground’s dirty. can’t have my shirt on there,” he smirks lazily. instead, he pulls the shirt over your head, draping it haphazardly over your stomach. he doesn’t smooth it out for you. 

he moves lower, his hands pawing at your jeans. he unbuttons it, watching your reactions. he smiles lazily when you don’t protest or do anything. you let him take off your jeans, let his fingers press into your already damp panties. 

he scoffs, leaning back down over you. “man, i just knew you always had a little crush on me,” he mumbles, more so like he’s talking to himself. “i mean, just look at how wet you’re getting for me. holy shit,” he groans as his fingers dip under the waistband of your panties, collecting the arousal pooling between your thighs. 

he’s getting impatient. he plays with your soaking pussy for a little bit, enough to have you writhing and whining under him. he even decides to be a little nice and give you two of his fingers. “yeahhh, i know, my fingers are already hard to take, hm? just imagine my cock inside you,” he taunts, guiding your hand to palm his bulge over his own pants. 

he feels your gummy walls clench and unclench around his fingers. “aht–” he tsks, pulling his fingers out of you. “were you about to cum, baby?” he chuckles when you whine in protest. “you gotta earn your orgasm, loser.”

he moves off of you, sitting back on his knees now. you’re breathless, back laying on his bed as you watch him stare at you. “what? do the work yourself. god, do i have to do everything for you, dumb girl?”

he rolls his eyes mockingly, his own hands moving to undo his belt and pants. the belt lands with a clatter on the floor, pants and boxers following. his hard, aching cock springs up, and he hisses at the lack of confinement. 

you blink at his cock. he merely raises an eyebrow at you. he clicks his tongue in annoyance. he wraps his hand around your wrist, bringing your hand to his cock. “what? afraid of it?” he teases, his smirk only widening when he sees your fingers don’t even meet when you wrap your hand around his cock. 

you’re also in awe. your hand doesn’t move. you just stare at his twitching cock in the palm of your hand. you don’t notice that he leans down a bit to spit onto his cock, making it wet. “come on, stupid girl. i already made it wet for you. all you gotta do is just move your hand up and down. really, it’s not that hard,” he grumbles, running a hand lazily through his hair. 

you whimper at his words, moving off your back to sit up a bit. your hand starts to move, his spit dripping onto your fist. a loud squelch resounds around his room, and he tips his head back in pleasure but no sound comes from him. 

with a determined frown to get something out of him, you twist your wrist. your thumb swipes at the sensitive underside of his cock, seeing some pre-cum leak out of him. his breath hitches, and even though the reaction is so miniscule, it motivates you. 

you continue, now using your other hand to join in. it elicits a rough groan out of him, his eyes closing in pleasure. you bite on your lower lip, watching him. with more motivation, you lower your head to take him in your mouth. your lips barely wrap around him before his hands fly to your hair, pulling you off of him immediately. 

he holds your face up close to his. “did i say to use your fucking mouth?” he asks. he doesn’t wait for you to answer. “just a cock hungry loser, aren’t you?” he sighs as if he doesn’t know what to do with you. 

but of course, he does. 

he manhandles you with ease, shoving your face down into the mattress, hiking your hips up with your ass presented to him. his palm smoothes over the fat, a low, satisfied hum vibrating in his throat. “but you’re only going to take my cock, okay? only crave my cock…” he murmurs. 

you expect a slap to your ass, your face half-buried in his pillow to muffle your potential scream. 

it never comes. 

instead, you feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against your soaked entrance. you gasp, fingers curling at his sheets, waiting for the push. unfortunately for you, he’s a fucking asshole. 

his tip bullies into your cunt. he watches you stretch around him, but before he even gets past an inch, he takes it out. “oh, oops. pussy so wet, it slipped out,” he hums, smirking as you whine impatiently. 

what you feel next isn’t his tip anymore. he’s rubbing his cock against your ass, squeezing your cheeks together. he hums lowly, a soft groan escaping him. “mm…can’t believe you were about to give yourself out to intak,” he scoffs as he mentions the other man’s name. 

he finally inches himself into you, catching you off guard. you mewl, eyes fluttering shut as your cunt stretches around his girth. he’s silent, admiring your pussy swallow him until he bottoms out. “fuck–” he hisses out, eyes zoned in on your cunt. 

he thrusts once shallowly. your body immediately clenches around him. he choked out a half-chuckle, half-moan. “seriously… i know you’re a loser but using intak to get me jealous…” he murmurs absentmindedly, shaking his head in disappointment. 

“i-i wasn’t–” you pant out, your own moans cutting you off, “u-using him to make you je-jealous…” you whimper as he gives you a deliberate grind to shut you up. 

“no, i know you, baby. you were tryna make me jealous so i can finally fuck you,” he interjects. then he’s pounding into you roughly, not waiting for you to protest him again. his hands grab at your hips roughly, sure to leave indents of his dull nails in your skin tomorrow. 

he leans over you, his chest pressing into your back. you whine at the new angle, his cock hitting you deeper. one of his hands trail up, brushing hair sticking to your cheek. “mm…look at you. finally getting my cock. you enjoying it, loser? you might never get it again,” he threatens, though with the way your pussy is sucking him in? 

yeah. he’s not ever letting you talk to another man again.

the back of his hands delicately brush the skin of your cheek, contradicting his pistoning hips. you pant out, eyes fluttering open to look at him. he smiles at the sight of your fucked-out expression, like he’s in awe. 

“so stupid,” he laughs, shaking his head. he presses a cheek to your temple though. you’re unsure if he’s trying to make you confused while fucking your brains, or if he’s just doing this shit unintentionally. 

“h-hoon–” you stutter out in a whimper, your hand dipping between your thighs to rub your clit. he hums in acknowledgement, so focused on your cunt taking him that he doesn’t yet notice your fingers rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. 

“what is it?” he asks. he’s breathless, his brows furrowing as he slows his thrusts to a maddening, slow grind. his cock throbs in your cunt, and you whine. that’s when he notices your fingers on your clit. 

immediately, he grabs your wrist and pins your hand on the edge of the headboard. “the one time i don’t want you to do anything, you don’t fucking listen,” he grumbles. your cunt flutters around him. he growls lowly, using his free hand that was holding your hip to reach down and rub your clit. 

you moan, thighs clamping around his hand. he’s annoyed now. he completely pulls his cock out of you, and you whip your head around your shoulder to stare at him. “hey–” your protest dies in your throat when his hand lets go of your wrist to shove your face back down into the pillow. 

“let me play with my dumb girl’s body,” he murmurs, effectively shutting you up. he dips down, lowering himself to be face-level with your pussy. he laps at his own two fingers, getting it wet before he spreads your folds apart. 

he admires you with a hiss, biting on his lower lip before he licks a stripe up your cunt. you gasp, hips immediately pushing into his mouth. “stop fucking moving, or i stop,” he grumbles into your cunt, his voice sending vibrations into your dripping pussy. 

his hands hold onto your ass, keeping you still as he licks and sucks on your cunt. his tongue and mouth is making you absolutely delirious. you whine and sob into his pillow, fighting to keep your hips from bucking into his mouth. 

“o-oh my god, i think i’m gonna–” you breathe out, a punched-out gasp escaping you when he stops. this is the second time he fucking edged you tonight. 

“yeah, yeah,” he drawls lazily, barely acknowledging you as he positions his cock to your entrance again. he slips in with more ease, a groan leaving his lips. he’s thrusting into you hard again, the slap of skin against skin echoing in his room. 

you squeal, your back arching more into him as his cock fills you up. your eyes roll back, hands clawing at his sheets. he doesn’t care. rip them, tear them, those sheets are replaceable. 

you, are not. 

you come without warning. it happens in a blur, so fast and so abrupt. you don’t know when the coil started building up, when it released, when his hand traveled below your stomach to rub at your clit. 

your moans are broken, muffled by the pillow he’s pressing you down into. he grins, canines peaking out with satisfaction. “aww,” he almost coos at you, watching you fall apart. your body trembles, hips threatening to fall onto his bed if it weren’t for his other hand holding your lower half up. 

“fuck, your cunt’s milking me,” he grunts, a punched out gasp escaping him at how tight your walls constrict around his cock from your orgasm. he’s close, and he doesn’t give you a break. “just lay there and get stupid for me, yeah?”

his hips piston into you, pelvis slapping against your ass. your voice is starting to get hoarse, muffled sobs of overstimulating pleasure racking through you. he’s relentless, hands palming at your ass, grabbing at the flesh. 

“ohmygod, ohmygod, i-i can’t–!” you slur out, and shit, he thinks you sound so fucking cute. so stupid. it unravels him. he leans over you again, chest against your back. he buries his face into your neck, mouthing at your skin to quiet himself down because he’s totally not going to let you hear him whimper as he cums.

his teeth dig into your skin. you gasp, loud, feeling his cock throb inside you before he completely stills. you whimper at the sudden stop, turning your face to the side so that your cheek is smushed into the pillow to look at him. “wh-what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t say anything. his breathing is ragged like he just ran a marathon. he swallows thickly, and for a second, you swear he’s wincing to hold himself back when your walls clamp around him again in anticipation. 

“...nothin’,” he answers vaguely. he pulls off of you, his cock slipping out again. you frown, body instinctively moving to turn onto your back so you could look at him properly. his hand shoots out to grab at your thigh, stopping you. 

he smirks lazily at you. “i just decided that i don’t think you deserved my cum in you,” he muses, his hand slowly stroking himself now. “so,” he grunts as he forces you back onto your hands and knees, arching your back for him juuustt right. 

“i’m gonna paint your ass with my cum instead,” he grumbles, already close again from the sight of your ass presented to him. the sound of his hand stroking his cock is lewd, obscenely loud. you bite your bottom lip, looking at him over your shoulder. 

his eyes don’t know where to look. your fucked-out face or your pretty ass?