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matryosika · 3 months

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thank you for this feedback haha, I was kicking my feet and giggling while reading. I might do a part two, since I'd like to elaborate a bit more on their dynamic! 💌🌟 Thank you again.

Attraction, obsession, infatuation

Pairing — Hyunjin and fem!reader Wordcount — 7,680 words Includes — Explicit sexual content. Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness. Smut warnings under the cut. Summary — It is easier to hate than to admit loving. Alternatively, where Hyunjin realizes he might be tired of pretending he doesn't want to be more than just your toy. Author's Note — First 2024 full story! One of my New Year's resolutions was to keep on writing, since the last two years have been a bit too rough with my creativity and, overall, life. I hope I can continue posting stuff this year, but I literally can't ignore the fact that I am graduating college this June and that the adult life is, inevitably, catching up to me. Still, writing is something I love so I am determined to take this hobby very seriously, since it's one of the few things I enjoy! I hope you like this, please remember that english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes in advanced. If you wish to support my work, please leave a comment, reblog or ask 💌 Post divider by @/cafekitsune

Smut Warnings — Dirty talk, (very) mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking and deep throating, voyeurism, female (solo) masturbation), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, marking (and mentions of pain), dacryphilia, creampie.

Humiliating.

There is no other way to describe the situation that perfectly.

[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: Seems like you got yourself a new toy]

[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: You don’t want to play with me anymore?]

[21:20 p.m., Hyunjin: I mean, we both know why you agreed to come here in the first place. It's not like you're the best of friends with any of my roommates, anyways.]

You hate how right he always is —how shamelessly he speaks, how pridefully he carries that ego of him.

People say there is a thin line between hatred and love, but they never talk about how tempting it is to walk on it. Especially because said line doesn't involve any of the former—if anything, that line represents all the carnal pleasures.

Pure lust.

[21:21 p.m., You: Please]

[21:21 p.m., You: You’re so full of yourself, you know that?]

Hyunjin rolls his eyes right in front of you, tongue poking through his cheek while he reads your messages.

[21:22 p.m., Hyunjin: That never seems to be a problem when you're in my bed]

It's a never ending bickering. A never ending teasing.

Hyunjin has always loved the thrill of doing things he isn't supposed to —no wonder why he ended up fucking you, out of all the women he knows.

Attraction, obsession, infatuation.

No amount of words could describe what happens between the two of you.

[21:23 p.m., You: I’m busy, in case you haven’t tell]

His cheeks grow hotter, killer eyes darting between you and the man you're talking to; appearing all sweet, gentle, collected, and everything you're not when you are with him. Your hand lays peacefully over your companion’s thigh, playfully hitting it when he says something remotely funny.

Your smile hasn't worn off since you entered the party, and Hyunjin genuinely wonders if you’re that happy and comfortable to be around any other man. Inevitably, he begins to wonder if you'd let him touch you like he does, kiss you like he has. He stares at you two for a little too long, and questions if you'd let that man do everything Hyunjin is entitled to do with you.

Would you let him treat you like he can? Let him fuck you like he does?

He chugs down the alcohol from his cup and uses that as an excuse to calm his masochistic urges, walking away from the scene he has been staring at for almost 10 minutes now.

It's like pouring lime over a wound, like pulling out a loose tooth. It hurts, but it makes him feel something.

“If you didn't hate her I would say you're totally drooling over her,” a black-haired man that smiles teasingly with his eyes is quick to ambush Hyunjin as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“What? Did your date get tired of you too early tonight?”

Changbin’s tongue pokes his cheek, and he can’t help but smile at Hyunjin’s moodiness. “She went to the bathroom, I just came here for some drinks”.

“Well, get to it,” Hyunjin commands, stretching his shoulders in an attempt to release all the build-up tension over them.

“Man, you've been acting so out of your element lately,” Changbin remarks, placing a bottle of vodka and another of pineapple juice aside with two red solo cups. “You’re always in a fucking mood, this is actually the first time I see you outside your bedroom in like... a while”.

Hyunjin won't admit it, but he is sulking.

Because of college, because of work, because of things he can't begin to fix and because of you.

“Just busy, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry I can't spend all day sticking my dick in different holes and doing an 8-hour shift at the gym”.

Changbin scoffs bitterly under his breath, nose flaring at his friend's harshness. “Maybe that's exactly what you need,” he nods, pouring a drink for himself and his date, “a good fuck”.

He rolls his eyes.

Yeah, maybe he needs that, but he also needs for you to stop touching your date's thigh, laughing amusingly loudly like you want him to hear how much of a great time you're having. Maybe Hyunjin needs to relieve all his anger on you, or he just needs for you to spare him a fucking glance because you haven't even looked at him since you walked in.

“Yeah,” he finally exhales, stealing the vodka bottle from Changbin’s grip to pour some onto his cup. He chugs it down quickly, and clears his throat when he feels the liquid burning inside, “that’s what I need”.

Changbin pats his right shoulder and abandons the kitchen when he spots his date closing the bathroom door behind her. And Hyunjin is left alone once again, wondering if it's time to ditch the party and lock himself inside his room or if he should hurt himself a bit more to get a grip on reality.

Inconveniently, he chooses the latter. Resting his hips against the kitchen counter, and turning his back on the full view of the living room, Hyunjin begins to thread a line of questions that may never have a proper answer.

Had he met you in another context, and in a distinct light, would things be different? Would your dynamic be different?

Maybe he would've apologized when he had time, for all the useless bickering that always took place between the two along the friend group. Had he surrendered to your stubbornness, rather than putting up a fight like it's typical from him, would the anguish be less?

Now that he reflects on it, Hyunjin can't even tell why you two hate each other these days. He never questioned it, the hatred you felt for each other, but he no longer knows why it's still there. Maybe it was a first impression, maybe it was a dumb comment or joke he cracked when you were introduced to the friend group. Maybe it was the fact that you two are so alike, personality wise, that you never seemed to get on.

Maybe you keep on hating each other because that's how it always has been, because there hasn't been a room to question the "what if's".

Or maybe you hate him just for being him, and the only thing you've come to mend with is the fact that he is nothing more than a good fuck.

His heart aches because of this last thought, and he stares at his phone screen for a bit too long, hoping to get a text from you. But you're busy, you said it yourself, and he is just feeling out of place.

“Hey,” the familiar voice it's enough for him to lift up his eyes from his phone, encountering a sheepishly grinning, red-eyed Jisung. “Changbin told me you’re in a mood, again”.

“He should put his mouth to good use,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes.

“He is worried about you though,” his friend says. “We all are, you know”.

Hyunjin sighs, “I’m fine”.

“Dude, come on,” Jisung drags his words lazily. “It’s about her, right?”

He shoots a killer gaze at him, “about who?”

If Jisung hadn't been higher than the fucking Empire State, he would've considered Hyunjin’s gaze a threat. But his mind is not precisely paying attention to any social cues, so he proceeds to say your name as a response.

"You should stop smoking that shit ever so often, you know?" he spits in annoyance, "it's making you delusional".

“Yeah, right man,” Jisung nods. “And you can keep being angry with the world just because you can't be angry with her”.

It disgusts Hyunjin how poetic that sounds, but his friend isn't too far from the truth —he would much rather project his anger and annoyance onto everyone else before you.

Because if you call, if you look for him, if you text him and ask him to see you, he will always be available. Even when he is not. Even when he has a ton shit to do. Even if all you want is his dick and a couple of dirty words.

Every time you ask, Hyunjin will give you anything you want.

“We don't have to talk about her though. Just wanted to check up on you,” his friend continues after an excruciatingly long silence, patting one of his shoulders like Changbin did before.

“There’s nothing to talk about, anyways,” Hyunjin says.

“Are you on, like, bad terms?”

“We’re not on any terms,” again, the urge to deny everything. It's always easier to pretend nothing it's going on than admitting there's a huge fucking elephant in the room. “We fuck, occasionally, and that's it. Not friendship, not intimacy, not trivial conversations about each other's days”.

“Well, that's some sort of the ideal to a fuck buddy relationship,” Jisung tilts his head. “It’s supposed to work”.

It should.

And it did, for a while —when the feelings were minimum and could be repressed, when the anger only translated to hatred and annoyance, and not jealousy and possessiveness.

These days, it's just not enough.

“Yeah well,” Hyunjin scoffs bitterly, holding the almost empty bottle of alcohol to his lips.

Thank God he isn't a light weight, because he would've been screwed by now. Vodka isn't his greatest match, but neither are you and he knows he has to sacrifice something tonight —whether it’s his rationality or his heart.

“Alright,” he finally exhales, pushing the empty bottle away from the edge of the counter. “I’m going back to my room”.

"Already?"

“That's the beauty of people using your apartment to host a fucking party, I guess,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to one of the kitchen pantries to grab his favorite bottle of wine. “You can just walk a minute and be in the comfort of your own bed”.

“Haven’t you drunk too much?” Jisung asks.

“Definitely not enough,” the dark-haired replies, grabbing both the bottle and a glass with one of his hands. “Tell Jeongin to kick everyone out by 2, I’m not paying for another noise complaint again”.

And as he makes his way to his room, it's inevitable for Hyunjin not to spare a glance at the couch you were once sitting on. But his eyes meet Changbin and his date instead, without any trace of you or the man you were with. And he doesn't know if he should feel relieved or worried because you're no longer in his eyesight, and as comforting as that thought should be is nothing more than anguish-inducing.

He says goodbye to some of his friends, and also deals with Changbin’s insistence to stay around before he is able to lock himself inside his room. It was, at best, a 3 minute situation from the kitchen to his bed, but it felt like ages. Mostly because his eyes kept on scanning the whole apartment, hoping to find something that could tell him you're still there and you didn't leave the party with that man although you probably did.

Much to his surprise, when he opens the door to his room, he finds you sitting at the edge of his bed.

You don't say anything, and neither does he. So you two stare at each other for a while before Hyunjin closes the door right behind him, leaving the wine and glass on a small table by the door.

“Wine? At a college party?” You finally interrupt the silence, using that playful, teasing tone you always use when you want to get on his nerves. “You really are something else”.

Typical Hyunjin would think of a comeback rather quicker than the speed of light —he has always been witty and good with his words, and that's something you find utterly, despicably attractive in him.

But after 4 shots of vodka and an unamusing mood, all he wants it’s to kick you out and plop down onto his bed.

“Weren’t you busy?” he asks in a murmur, too lazy to make himself be heard. But it is loud and clear for you to hear, even with the bustling coming from down the hall.

“He bored me,” you admit. “Kept talking about his football team, and how he is going to work at his father's company once he graduates”.

Hyunjin lets out a bitter and quiet scoff, giving you his back while he pours some wine onto his glass. You can’t fool him, even if you try like right now.

But he attempts to ignore his rapid heartbeats by keeping a nonchalant, even annoyed countenance, albeit a part of him can't ignore the fact that you're in his room.

Just you and him, finally.

“Are you going back to the party or…”

“I’m tired,” he cuts you short, chugging down the wine like it's a shot of anything else. Can't care less about etiquette when all he wants is to lose his sobriety along with his rationality. “I want to sleep”.

“It’s 10:30,” you tease him, cocking one of your eyebrows and giving him that look that always makes him feel ridiculous.

On any other day, that would've been fuel to erase that smile off of your face by pushing it onto the pillows while he fucks you from behind.

Tonight, though, it just blatantly stings.

“So?” The coldness in his voice makes you shudder, and when he doesn't respond like he usually does it's when you realize there's something different going on.

You and Hyunjin don't share that kind of intimacy. You don't tell him your problems, and he doesn't tell you his problems either. You don't comfort each other through words or romantic touches. You don't give words of encouragement and you don't talk things through.

If there's something to say, you do so through sex.

But right now, that you've interrupted his night, you feel somewhat compromised to ask if he is alright.

“Bad day?”

Bad week, bad month, bad year, a bad fucking life.

“Don’t have to act like you care,” Hyunjin says, resting his hips against the furniture while he pours himself another glass of wine.

The comment catches you off-guard. First and foremost, because you're not quite sure you don't care about him at all. And second, because he is making it seem like you are the reason behind his bad mood.

But if he doesn’t want to talk, you’re not going to force him to. After all, you’re in his room for one reason, and one reason only.

“Shit, sorry for asking,” you murmur, gripping the edge of the bed sheets with both of your hands. It's a common ground you've walked in, thousands of times. You've been in his bed for far more times than you can remember, and you've fucked a lot more than you can count. So you're not afraid of asking the question: maybe you should release some stress?

Hyunjin knows what you mean. He knows the sexual connotations of it, and knows that’s exactly the reason why you're in his room.

On any other day, Hyunjin would've taken your word. But right now, when his eyes can only focus on the crimson bruise on your neck, the proposition enrages him.

He walks towards you, completely towering over your figure. One hand holds the glass of wine, while the other cups your face and maneuvers it harshly, leaving the hickey for him to see.

“He bored you?” The way he spits such a question makes your heart skip a beat. Don’t leave a rough mark, you told the guy, just a faint hickey. Of course he wouldn’t care, and neither did you —otherwise you would’ve checked yourself in the mirror before approaching Hyunjin wearing someone else’s lovebites, “or he just wasn't the one you wanted to fuck tonight?”

You move your head away from his touch with a swift movement, immediately missing the warmth of his skin against yours, "does that even make a difference?"

But it doesn't.

In the end, you only look for him because you want a good fuck and it seemed like your date just couldn't get the job done.

Not because you want him, particularly.

“No,” Hyunjin replies coldly. “But you should at least have some decency, you know?”

You know he isn't teasing you, like he always does. He is not saying all this to get a reaction from you, and that unsettles you.

He is acting and saying such things because he means them. Because he feels like them.

“Since when do you care about what I do or I don't?” you ask him, the tone in your voice increasing as Hyunjin’s gaze intensifies.

“You can do whoever the fuck you want,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to grip at the edge of the furniture behind him.

“Well, I want to do you”.

“Maybe tonight I don’t,” Hyunjin gulps down the wine, having a way harder time swallowing the euphoric sensation of his ego rather than the alcohol coming down his throat.

And you stare at him like he just said something controversial. Something weird, something unusual coming from him.

“You’re lying,” you say, darting him a challenging look. “You always want me”.

“Why would I want something that everyone can have?”

It’s his anger talking. His rage, his uncertainty, his jealousy.

You're not wrong. He wants you, he always has and most likely always will.

But he is too proud to admit it, both to you and himself. Especially after you’ve walked into his room with the ghost of another man’s hands and lips, wearing a mark on your skin that will never compare to how Hyunjin has been allowed to mark you.

“So that’s the issue?” you defy him, standing up from the edge of his bed to walk forward. “You’re acting like this just because I was with someone else?”

Your mocking tone makes it seem like it's something ridiculous and irrational, but you've aced your initial hypothesis.

You are the reason behind his bad mood.

“Just get out,” Hyunjin says, tense jaw and cold eyes locked into yours. “You're getting on my nerves”.

Your tongue pokes through your cheek and you look at him in disbelief —you feel taken aback because of how he is acting, and you want to blame it on the alcohol he has ingested throughout the night. But he looks sober, and way more serious than his immature facade has ever made him appear.

“If I wanted to be with someone else tonight, I would’ve left your apartment a fucking hour ago,” the boldness in your voice only challenges Hyunjin to this staring contest he didn't know he is playing. Without blinking, without parting his gaze away, all his undivided attention is on you, and the way you're spitting your words like you're truly the one with a reason to be angry.

Needless to say, your audacity only infuriates him further.

“If you wanted to be with me, you would’ve come into my room the second you step a foot into the apartment,” he shoots back, straightening his body against the furniture and causing it to move an inch closer to you, “I mean, you know the way well, don’t you?”

He raises one of his eyebrows, and it’s embarrassing.

Pathetically embarrassing.

Stupidly idiotic.

“You've crawled on all fours from the door to my room before,” Hyunjin continues, tilting his head while his gaze falls from your eyes to your parted lips, “I'm sure that was enough for you to remember the path fairly well”.

It was one time, you say to yourself. And you'd rather die than having to admit such a humiliating thing to anyone other than him.

You'd rather die than having everyone know what you allow Hyunjin to do to you. You'd rather disappear into thin air than having to deal with the judgemental gazes from all of your friends.

The Hwang Hyunjin? The one you say you can't stand? The one that gets on your nerves because of how childish he is? The one you tell your friends you'd turn down a thousand times even if he was the last man standing on earth?

“Go fuck yourself, Hwang,” you're so close to him you can practically taste the red wine off of his lips. You're breathing the same air, hearts beating at the same rate.

You want him worse than you wanted him before —you like the feeling of his jealousy and his possessiveness. You like it when his hatred towards you transforms into hatred to anyone who dares to touch you; no one is allowed to have you like he is entitled to, and no one is allowed to hate you the way he does.

So he leaves the empty glass of wine behind, and guides one of his hands to your heated cheeks. He caresses it, pushing away the hairs from your face —the intimate touch might feel out of place and context, but you know damn well it's nothing more than the calm before the storm.

A calling.

A warning.

You know Hyunjin more than you'd ever want to admit, and you crave him worse than you'd ever allow yourself to think.

"God fucked you up by giving you this shitty ego,” he murmurs, brushing his lips ever so slightly against yours. It seems as if Hyunjin walked right into your trap without knowing, blinded by instincts and completely ignoring the awful show you put up earlier with a man you don't even know his name, “and he fucked me up even more for making me like it”.

It all happens in a fraction of second, too fast for you to catch some air and too sloppy for you to get the kiss right.

You're tasting the red wine, and his rage, and the longing lust you are always demanding from him whenever your body is against his. He kisses you ardently, teasing your tongue and biting your lower lip trying to fill you up just with him —to get rid of whoever kissed you first that night, and to intoxicate you with all of him for whoever will kiss you next.

One of his hands wraps around your figure, pressing you tighter against him, while the other swims through the roots of your hair, already in position to manhandle you like he knows he can.

The way he knows you want him to.

And you don't stop him when you feel the sting in your scalp, forcing you to break the kiss and down to your knees right in front of him in a careless way that will probably leave bruises.

“Said you wanted to do me?” Hyunjin asks, unzipping his pants with his available hand while the other holds your head still, despite your efforts to wipe away the drool from your lips and the hair sticking to your cheeks with his spit. “I’m right fucking here, do me”.

You look at him with loathing but it is nothing more than a projection: you hate yourself for how much you needed this.

For how much you need him.

“Don’t give me those eyes,” he falsely pouts, but the sound gets drowned in a grunt when he wraps his hand around his dick to stroke it a few times before guiding your mouth to the tip of it, “you want this”.

His gaze finds yours in the midst of the struggle, and the only way you can think of letting him know you're consenting to this is by sticking your tongue out and licking the tip of his cock, collecting all his salty precum and tasting it like you've been starving for it.

At the sight, Hyunjin chuckles lowly. Still as cold, still as enraged.

“Did you suck him off too?” he asks, using the grip on your hair as his favor —with ease, he slams his hips against your mouth, letting the tip of his cock reach parts of your throat that are still tense. “Does he taste as good as I do?”

Hyunjin doesn't need to know that you planned this all along —that you purposely did everything to get him jealous. He doesn't need to know that you like the thrill of it, of watching his possessive and jealous side.

He doesn't need to know that you utterly adore when he fucks you like he actually hates you. Like you mean nothing and everything to him at the same time.

Hyunjin doesn't need to know a lot of things, so you tag along with the fantasy of everything you've yet to deny.

“Relax,” more than a soothing word, it’s an order. He maneuvers your head all along his length, applying more pressure when your nose hits his pubic bone and then forcing you away to let you breathe. “You’ve taken this cock before, you know exactly how to do it”.

You try to regain control of your body, and your rationality, but it seems a rather useless task —when you're with Hyunjin, he is the one that does the thinking for you. When you're with him, you can't think of anything else but him, his voice, his eyes, the way he touches and kisses you, the way he tastes and the way he feels inside you.

“Too big,” you gasp in between thrusts of his hips against your lips. Your hand flies to reach the base of his cock, but he is quick to force you backwards with the grip on your hair.

“Do not touch me”.

“Hyun-”

“I said, do not touch me,” he repeats when you try to touch him again. “Do you really think you can go around touching other men and I won't do anything about it?”

Hyunjin wishes he wasn’t as prideful as he is —if he could swallow his ego easily, he could have your hands all over his body by now. But he is proud, and vengeful, and stubborn. No matter how much his skin is burning to feel the softness of yours against it, he needs to make his point.

“You’re- you can’t be serious,” you struggle between moans, with a voice so hoarse it's barely audible.

“There’s the door,” he forces your head towards it, “you can leave if you don’t like it”.

Your doe eyes, filled with anger and defy, dart between him and the door. Hyunjin is always the one in control, you're not really unfamiliar with that —the fact that he is acting like this, offering you a way out if you’re not willing to do things his way, makes you feel uneasy and curious.

You choose to stay only for the latter. Not because of anything else, right?

Right?

You don’t say anything, but fix your gaze on the man in front of you.

And Hyunjin gets it, he gets the look you're giving him. That, paired with the fact that you're not doing anything to get away from his grip, tells him that you're more than willing to keep on going, so he continues manhandling you around.

“C’mere,” he mutters when guiding your head along his cock again, making you swallow him full without giving you any kind of warning whatsoever, “just like that”.

You're gagging, and tearing up, and clearly struggling to take all of his cock. But never have you felt this hungry, and never have you felt this emptiness between your legs that only Hyunjin seems to be able to fill.

Your hands ache for his flesh, and so desperately you want to sink them on his thighs or ass; intertwine them with his, latch your fingers against his and squeeze them while you prove to him that he's the only one that gets to fuck your mouth like this.

“Please,” you cry out when he gives you a break to catch some air, “I need- let me touch you, please”.

"Should've thought of it before putting your hands on someone else," he hissed, brushing your hair wet with drool and tears away from your face. “Should’ve thought about me before running to another man”.

“Hyunjin”.

Oh, how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips —especially when accompanied with sobs and whimpers. You're always so cool and collected, like you control everything and everyone around you. You never cry, never show anyone else a crevice of what you truly are, but he is the only one that gets to see you like this. The only one you really trust, the only one you give control to.

If you hate him that much, why do you always come crawling back to him?

If you hate him that much, why is he the only one that gets to use you like this?

And if you hate him that much, why can't Hyunjin forget what he truly feels about you?

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, cleaning your mouth and chin with the back of your hand. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I’m sorry”.

“For what exactly?” He is so close to you, you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours and get drunk on the wine that lingers in his breath. He is so close to you, he almost can't resist the urge of crashing his lips against yours again and taste himself off of you.

“I don’t know,” you look at him with teary eyes. You feel like crying, and Hyunjin can tell. “I don’t know, it’s just- I’m sorry, okay? If that’s what you want to hear, then I’m sorry”.

His eyebrows furrow.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says. “Your apologies mean nothing to me”.

Your heart stings, and it is unusual. He is unusual, painfully real unlike all the times you've pretended to hate each other just for the dynamic.

Blame it on the alcohol, or the stress he has been feeling lately, or the fact that you've been nothing but a brat these days, but Hyunjin is angry. And hurt.

“Your actions, on the other hand,” it's all he tells you with his bright eyes boring into yours. “I want you to show me how sorry you truly are”.

“Wha-”

He maneuvers you from the floor to his bed, forcing you on your back against the sheets you've grown to know fairly well. Your body writhes under him, and you fight back the urges to wrap your arms around his neck and force his body close to yours.

“How- am I supposed to show you?” you ask in between the struggle, moving your body to Hyunjin’s will. With your help, he unbuttons your jeans and scatters them along the floor, just like your blouse and underwear.

He lets out a soft scoff, blowing air through his nose, amused. "As if you don't know me that well".

And because you know him well, you can't avoid the eerie feeling of fear that settles up in the deepest pits of your chest when his cold gaze makes contact with yours.

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, with your heart ringing loudly in your ears.

“You should be asking what you're going to do for me, instead,” he murmurs, caressing the sides of your body with a creepy delicacy that doesn't match his demeanor at all. "Don't you want to be forgiven?" It's a rhetorical question, you know that much. And you do want to be forgiven, but you're not quite sure what twisted idea Hyunjin has of an apology.

So you stay quiet, and hope for the best.

“You said you wanted me, right?” He asks yet again, fixing his eyes on yours. You just nod. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Yes,” you rush to say, “yes, I said I want you”.

“How bad?”

The endless teasing is making you frustrated, but you're used to that. However, you're not used to feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes with each second that passes by.

You need him desperately. You need his kiss, and tongue, and hands on every part of your body that you'd never allow anyone else to touch.

No matter how much you say you dislike Hyunjin.

“So fucking bad,” you cry out, kicking you head back against the pillow.

Hyunjin hums, peppering wet and sloppy kisses over your tummy and inner thighs. You feel his breath so close to your wet center that you can only hope he gives you the attention you need.

But that is not going to happen any time soon, and you know that.

“Fuck yourself,” he commands you, kneeling between your spread legs on top of his bed, “prove to me that you want me”.

You know the catch, know why Hyunjin is asking you such a thing.

He never does, unless he wants to punish you. And albeit not a rough punishment, there's nothing sweeter than watching you fall apart in frustration, to watch you deny yourself because he said so, to see you squirming in pain because you overstimulated yourself.

But then again, you'd do anything he says, just to be one step closer to him.

So you comply, with your index and middle finger shaking in anticipation as they make contact with your folds. Slowly but surely, you start fulfilling his demand —bitterly, with a look of disdain.

One of his hands spread your legs further, and he stays kneeling between your thighs as he watches you.

Impatient, eager, angry.

“I don’t have all day,” he finally snaps after a good 30 seconds of you just timidly teasing yourself. You can’t admit it out loud, but it is embarrassing —to have his eyes all over you but not his hands, to have your legs spread for someone who has no interest in touching you.

It's also embarrassing how wet you are by all of this. By his attitude, his anger and his jealousy.

“Sorry,” you barely mumble, sinking two fingers inside your throbbing pussy.

You feel nothing. Not pain, nor pleasure. Just nothing.

“One more,” Hyunjin tells you and you comply. But after getting used to him and his size, nothing fills you up anymore.

“You don’t- you don’t expect me to come just by this, do you?” You ask with a nervous scoff, biting down on your lower lip as you pull your fingers out just to thrust them inside again.

Hyunjin doesn't answer, and that only fuels your anguish even more. Instead, he fixes his eyes on your fingers, and the way they glisten with your wetness. He focuses on the sounds they make, and how warm you must feel after all the teasing.

You let out a whine, but it is not out of pleasure. It's a frustrated whine, a desperate one. You kick your head back, and fuck yourself harder with your fingers.

All your efforts are pointless.

“Don’t you dare,” Hyunjin warns you when your other hand slips to touch your clit.

“I- I can’t just come with this,” you groan.

“How is that my problem?”

It is humiliating —the way he is looking down on you, the way he is clearly amused by how stupid you must look right now touching yourself without feeling anything.

“Keep on going,” he tells you, licking his lips, “you won’t stop until you come”.

You shake your head and kick it against his pillow, trying to go impossibly deeper in hopes of finding that spot inside of you that only Hyunjin seems to know well.

Again, pointless.

“Come on,” you whine, now really on the brink of tears, “don’t do this to me”.

“You did this to yourself,” he simply says, and his digits graze against your naked legs.

The stimulation on your flesh is enough for you to clench around your fingers, and Hyunjin lets out a twisted smile when he sees the goosebumps flowering.

“Hyunjin”.

“Can’t come by yourself?” He asks with a fake empathy, “you need me for that, right?”

You know where this is heading, and you’re willingly letting him lead you that way —you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Yes,” you admit, hoping such a confession is enough to do something. Anything.

“Am I the only one who can make you come?”

“Yes, Hyunjin,” there's an inner conflict between your lust and your ego —you wish to fight back, but your mind is already surrendering. Your answer isn't far from the truth anyways, so why is it so difficult to admit it out loud? “Yes, you’re the only one”.

“That’s what I thought,” he whispers quietly, dragging the tip of his digits along your spread thighs.

You’re aroused and whriting in anticipation, You’re aroused and trembling in anticipation, your whole body is ready for him, anything he wants to give you, and he can tell.

That's probably the worst part of it all —your mouth can always voice how much you hate him, but your body will keep on betraying you every time.

“I can’t,” you murmur, relentlessly trying to get yourself to your high, “I can't do this on my own anymore, you're the only one who can”.

It's embarrassing to admit such a thing, both to him and yourself —it's not like you're saying so just to get what you want.

You're saying so because it's the truth, because not even you nor your toys can get you to come like Hyunjin does.

“Remember that every time you even think about being with someone else,” Hyunjin’s body hovers over you, fitting perfectly between your open legs. “No one is going to make you feel like I can”.

You drown a moan when you feel his clothed erection pressing against your folds. The fabric of his pants is rough, but your body unconsciously grinds on it.

“Just fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling his warmth spreading from your chest to your limbs, “please, please, please”.

He needs you just as much.

And his intention was never to deny you, but to remind you that you belong to him. Whether you want to admit it or not, whether you even know it —your body responds to Hyunjin, and Hyunjin only.

“Patience is a virtue, you know?” He scoffs, sneaking a hand between your bodies to slide the tip of his dick against your folds, “I spent all night looking how someone else got his hands all over you”.

You tremble underneath him, begging for anything he might want to give you.

“It wasn’t a pretty sight, you know?” Hyunjin continues, “it kills me that no one knows you're mine”.

Your heart skips a beat at his rageful words, as you breathe the same oxygen that leaves his lungs.

“Hyunjin”.

“I hate the fact that I just can’t kiss you when I feel like it,” he presses his forehead against yours, taunting your lips with his. “Can’t even fuck you when I want, without caring if someone hears or not”.

There's a pinch of frustration and despair in his voice. Like he is asking you to read between the lines, to give some sense to his words.

“We hate each other, don’t we?” You remind him, digging your nails in the flesh of the sides of his body.

“Do you really think this is hate?” He asks, and presses his hips against yours. You feel his hardened length getting coated with your wetness, and you can’t help but moan.

“Everybody thinks we can’t stand each other,” you wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him to make a move. And as if on cue, he gets what you’re demanding —he slides the tip of his dick in, so easily that it's hard to believe your body wasn't perfectly made for him.

“But no one knows what we do behind their backs, do they?” He asks, grunting quietly when he finally bottoms out, “they don’t know how good we fuck each other, how good we make us feel”.

It's not the time to pause and reflect about the dynamic you've shared with Hyunjin over the past year. It's also not the time to think about what could happen if you were to reveal to your closest friends what you and Hyunjin have.

It's exciting to keep things a secret, but you're not quite sure how long you can go without one of you getting tired of it.

It's not the time, and you don't dwell on it because you soon feel Hyunjin's hips slowly pulling and then bottoming out again. The sudden hit of his pubic bone against your swollen clit sends shivers down your spine, and you hug him tightly against you.

“Because you make me feel so good,” he murmurs, leaving a wet trail of kisses from your lips, to your chin and jaw, “so fucking good”.

You clench around him at his words, and he lets out a raw moan.

“You too,” you swallow thickly, “you too- make me feel so good”.

“Just me?”

“Just you Hyunjin- fuck,” you bite down the flesh on his shoulders when his hips snap against yours, making your whole body jolt, “like that, fuck me like that”.

With painfully slow but hard strokes, Hyunjin pounds his dick inside your wet pussy.

The lewd noises it makes, paired with his skin hitting yours, drowns his bedroom. They also drown the bustle behind the door, the faint voices of those who are still outside partying and drinking.

Those who don't know how much you love fucking Hyunjin, and how much he loves fucking you.

“I have to make sure it's only me who gets to have you like this,” and with that being said, he sinks his teeth and nibbles at the flesh where burgundy and purple bruises rest.

You arch your back in pain, feeling your neck burning. He holds you in place as you writhe beneath him, placing all his weight over you to prevent you from squirming away from him.

“It’s just a little pain,” his soft voice coos, grabbing the sides of your neck with one of his hands while his lips attack the love bites made by someone else, “nothing compared to what you made me feel tonight”.

Your heart starts beating faster at his words.

“I’m sorry,” tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you still let Hyunjin mark you.

You want him to, anyway. No matter how painful it can be.

“I know you are,” he hums, satisfied with the way you’re clenching around him.

He kisses your flesh softly, trying to soothe the pain away, and you move your hips, desperate to have him moving inside of you again.

He loses no time into it, holding his weight back off of you to continue on fucking you.

“You look so pretty now,” he twistedly smiles, with a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead and nose, “my lips and teeth look so good on you”.

The minute he bites down his lower lip and his eyes go blank, you start feeling the tension building up inside your abdomen. You’re close, and you’re desperate to come.

“Hyunjin,” one of your hands holds his bicep, while the other makes a mess of the bed sheets beneath you.

“Not yet,” he warns you, and at that you let out a frustrated sound, “hold it a bit longer, come with me”.

You close your eyes shut and kick your head back, hoping that if you don't look at him, you can prolong the time before you come. But he is fucking you so good, and his dick is hitting all the right spots inside of you, that you really don't think you can hold it as long as he wants you to.

“Please,” you cry out, this time tearing up. You can’t help it —the tears fall from your closed eyes without a warning. They stain your cheeks, and get lost in the crook of your neck that is still burning with Hyunjin’s love bites.

“Open your eyes,” his hand cups your face, and you snap them open as a reflex, “let me see you crying”.

His words ignite a fire inside you, just as much as your tears do to him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clouded eyes and the way they beg for his release.

It’s the first time he sees you cry,

and it shouldn't arouse him as much as it does. He knows what's behind those tears, and maybe that's the reason why he is enjoying them.

Frustration, rage, despair, attraction, obsession, infatuation.

He buries his nose on the flesh of your cheek and kisses your tears, one by one, as he continues pounding himself inside of you.

“Can’t-” you murmur, digging your nails on his shoulders. Hyunjin hisses at that. “I can’t hold it”.

“Give it to me,” he finally exhales, increasing the movements of his hips. And you comply —you give your orgasm to him, squeezing his cock almost aggressively. Your body trembles and he hugs it tightly, fucking you through your high as he comes with you.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” at one point, your body goes limp —the pleasure becomes too strong that you melt into his arms.

He moans your name, over and over again, until his voice becomes a whisper, and his hips relax into yours. His body rests on top of you, hugging you, pressing kisses to your forehead and temples while you wrap your arms around him. He doesn't pull out, and you don't want him to —at least not yet.

Sex with Hyunjin always goes a little bit like this, but it never feels as intimate as it does right now.

Your sweating bodies are pressed against each other, and your hearts are beating at the same rate. Your mouth tastes like red wine, despite you not having drunk any, and Hyunjin’s chest smells like your perfume.

The crescent moon-like imprints from your nails are still pulsing on his shoulders and back with desire, and your neck still burns with his possessiveness.

It seems as though you two are one, and it is impossible to deny it.

If hate is another synonym for infatuation, you might as well be willing to hate each other until death.

#rb: hyunnierecs #self-reblog

694 notes · View notes

matryosika · 3 months

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this means the world to me fr, thank you so much for reading and enjoying this silly fic. i love you, have a nice day! 💌