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Hyuntaks boyfriend is a crazy piece of shit.
It started with a “degrade me,” innocent enough to seem playful. Then it was “slap me while you fuck me,” Now it’s “point a loaded gun at me while you fuck me.”
Hyuntak’s blood boils. Seongje’s latest demand, thrown out mid-argument, has him seething, the kind of anger that hums in his veins, sharp and electric. The worst part? Seongje feeds on it, gets off on the idea that Hyuntak’s rage might just tip him over, might make him pull that trigger.
It’s sick. It’s disgusting. And it’s got Hyuntak’s pulse hammering.
Three minutes ago, Seongje spat the request in the heat of their fight. One minute ago, Hyuntak stormed off to grab the gun. Ten seconds ago, he shoved Seongje to his knees, the cold barrel pressed to his forehead, Seongje’s breath hitching with excitement. Now, Seongje’s face is pressed against the growing bulge in Hyuntak’s jeans, that infuriating grin splitting his lips. His fingers toying with the button of his jeans, slowly, breath stuttering as Hyuntak grinds the gun harder against his skin.
“Take it off already,” Hyuntak growls, voice rough with impatience, Seongje’s dawdling poking the fire in his chest.
“Do it yourself, pup.” Seongje murmurs, eyes flashing with wicked delight as Hyuntak’s face twists, fury flaring hot.
“I’m not the one on his knees begging to be humiliated, pet,” Hyuntak hisses, the word pet dripping with venom as he leans closer, gun steady. “Undo my fucking pants.”
Seongje’s grin widens, his breath hitching audibly as the gun presses harder, the metal biting into his skin. He’s loving this—Hyuntak can see it in the way his pupils dilate, the way his fingers tremble with excitement as they finally pop the button open, dragging the zipper down with agonizing slowness. “Oh, you’re so mad,” Seongje purrs, his voice a mocking sing-song. “What’s wrong, Hyuntak? Can’t handle me? Gonna shoot me for being a bad boy?”
Hyuntak’s free hand snaps forward, grabbing a fistful of Seongje’s hair and yanking his head back hard enough to make him gasp. The gun stays steady, now pressed under Seongje’s jaw, forcing his chin up. “You’re a fucking disgrace,” Hyuntak spits, his voice shaking with barely-contained fury. “Panting like a bitch in heat with a loaded gun to your head. You’re pathetic.”
Seongje’s laugh is sharp, almost manic, his eyes gleaming with something wild and unhinged. “Yeah? Then why’re you so hard right now?” he mocks, his free hand cupping over the bulge in Hyuntak’s jeans, light and teasing, just enough to make Hyuntak’s blood boil hotter. “You’re just as fucked up as me, baby. Admit it.”
Hyuntak’s vision blurs with rage for a split second, and he shoves Seongje’s face harder against his crotch, the rough denim grinding against Seongje’s cheek. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snarls, his voice raw, “or I’ll make you choke on it.” The gun slides to Seongje’s lips, the barrel grazing them, a silent threat that only makes Seongje’s grin grow wider, more feral.
“Do it,” Seongje whispers, his tongue flicking out to brush the edge of the barrel, eyes locked on Hyuntak’s. “C’mon, big guy. Show me how much you hate me.”
Hyuntak’s chest heaves, his pulse hammering in his ears. He’s never been this pissed, and Seongje knows it—fucking thrives on it. The little shit’s playing him, pushing every button. He yanks Seongje’s hair again, forcing his head back further, the gun now pressed to the hollow of his throat. “You’re nothing,” Hyuntak growls, his voice dripping with disgust. “Just a desperate little slut who’d rather die than behave.”
Seongje moans, low and shameless, his hands finally tugging Hyuntak’s jeans down just enough to free him, his fingers wrapping around it. “Keep talking,” he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. “Tell me how much I disgust you. Tell me how you’d love to pull that trigger.”
Hyuntak’s breath catches, his grip on the gun tightening as Seongje’s words sink into him like poison. He hates this. Hates Seongje. Hates how much he doesn’t hate this, how the sight of Seongje on his knees, mouthy and defiant and so fucking eager, is making his head spin. “You’re not worth the bullet,” he murmurs, cradling Seongjes face. He tilts Seongje’s head up like that, the gun still pressed to the hollow of his throat, its cold metal a stark contrast to the heat radiating off them both. Seongje’s response is instant—his mouth opens, tongue sticking out eagerly, eyes locked on Hyuntak’s. Hyuntak spits directly into his mouth, the act dripping with contempt, and Seongje loves it.
He swipes it over his lips and laughs again, like he’s savoring every second of Hyuntak’s disgust. A second later he’s leaning forward to press his lips against the tip of Hyuntak’s cock, a fleeting, teasing kiss that makes Hyuntak’s whole body tense.
His hand tightens in Seongje’s hair, yanking just enough to make him hiss.
“You’re fucking repulsive."
“Repulsive, huh?” Seongje murmurs, his voice a low purr, tongue flicking out to trace a slow, deliberate circle around the tip. “Then why’re you shaking, baby? Bet you were harder thinking about me with that guy at dinner than you are now.” His words are a knife, twisting into the raw wound of Hyuntak’s jealousy, and he knows it—his eyes gleam with the thrill of pushing too far.
Hyuntak’s grip on the gun tightens, the barrel sliding to press against Seongje’s cheek, smearing spit across his skin. “You’re a filthy fucking slut,” he growls, his voice trembling with barely-contained fury. “Flirting with that piece of shit right in front of me, begging for attention like a desperate whore, and now this? You’re lucky I don’t pull the trigger just to shut you up.” His other hand shoves Seongje’s head forward, forcing his lips to part around him, the sudden roughness making Seongje moan, low and shameless.
Seongje lets his head be pushed forward for a moment, taking him into his mouth, throat working with practiced skill, eyes never leaving Hyuntak’s. Then he pulls back just enough to speak, voice muffled but dripping with mockery. “Jealousy looks so good on you,” he taunts, taking Hyuntaks dick with a firmer grip into his hand as he speaks, each word an intentional provocation. He dives back in, taking Hyuntak deeper, the wet heat of his mouth a stark contrast to the cold rage in Hyuntak’s chest.
“Fuck you,” he spits, his voice raw, shoving Seongje’s head down harder, making him gag for a split second before he recovers. “Stop fucking with me."
Seongjes gaze drops down and he hums while taking more of Hyuntak in his mouth, the vibration sending a jolt through Hyuntak that only makes him angrier. Then, with a calculated cruelty, Seongje shifts, his hand pressing deliberately into the scar on Hyuntak’s knee—the jagged, ugly mark. Seongje knows it’s a weak spot, physical and emotional, and he digs into it now, his hand pressing just enough to send a dull ache shooting up Hyuntak’s leg. He pulls off slightly, only enough so his other hand can start lazily jerking the base of Hyuntak’s cock, lips and tongue working with infuriating precision. His eyes lock back onto Hyuntak’s, taunting, gleaming with that unspoken or what?—like he’s reminding Hyuntak he’s weak compared to him.
“You little shit,” Hyuntak hisses, his thumb flicks the hammer of the gun, cocking it with a sharp click that cuts through the room like a blade. Seongje’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but then he lets out a breathless laugh, muffled around Hyuntak, the sound reckless and unhinged.
“What the fuck,” Hyuntak breathes out, half-laughing, half-snarling, the absurdity of it all hitting him like a punch. Seongje’s still sucking him off, harder now, eyes dropping down as his lips slide along Hyuntak’s cock, tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deep again, the wet heat making Hyuntak’s thighs tense. “You think this is funny? Pressing into my fucking scar, begging for a bullet? You’re a pathetic fucking mess.” His voice is low, biting, as he shifts the gun, holding it alongside his dick, the cold metal glinting next to the flushed heat of his erection. He grits his teeth, fighting the moan clawing at his throat, determined not to give Seongje the satisfaction.
Seongje’s eyes flick up, locking onto Hyuntak’s as he deep-throats him with infuriating ease, lips stretched tight, throat working around him in a way that’s almost too much. His hand slides off Hyuntak’s knee, abandoning the scar, and reaches for the gun instead, fingers wrapping around the barrel, jerking it quickly, mimicking the rhythm of his mouth but faster. Hyuntak can practically see the grin in his eyes when he lets out a heavy moan.
That snaps something in Hyuntak. With a rough shove, he pushes Seongje off his dick, the sudden force making Seongje choke slightly, a wet gasp escaping as he stumbles back. But Seongje catches himself with elbows hitting the mattress, body reclining like he planned it all along. He sprawls there, legs spreading, lips glistening with spit and precum, wiping them with the back of his hand as he looks up at Hyuntak, all smug with confidence.
Hyuntak stares down at him, breath uneven.
“You don’t look really intimidating with your cock out like that, you know,” he comments, head tilting.
Hyuntak’s jaw clenches. He mutters something under his breath, unintelligible, yanking his underwear back over himself with a rough jerk. The gun snaps up, aimed dead at Seongje’s chest. “Take off your clothes,” he orders, voice cold and clipped. “Don’t give me any of your shit.”
Seongje’s licks his lips. He obeys, slowly, like he’s putting on a show. His fingers tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing the lean lines of his chest, then move to his jeans, popping the button and sliding them down with a lazy roll of his hips. He kicks them off, underwear following, until he’s stark naked, sprawled on the bed, one elbow propping him up. “You not gonna take yours off?” He questions when he realises Hyuntak hasn’t moved an inch.
“No,” Hyuntak answers, curt. The gun wavers slightly in his hand, the metal catching the dim light as he drops to his knees, slotting himself between Seongje’s spread legs. He grabs Seongje’s throat, fingers tightening just enough to make him gasp, and crashes their mouths together in a bruising kiss, all teeth and heat. Seongje moans into it, shameless, his hand shooting up to tangle in Hyuntak’s hair, tugging hard, pulling him closer like he’s trying to devour him.
Their tongues clash, sloppy and aggressive, Seongje’s lips curling into that infuriating grin even as Hyuntak bites at his mouth, chasing control. Seongje’s free hand slides down, reaching for Hyuntak’s dick, fingers grazing the fabric of his underwear. Hyuntak’s hand snaps up, cracking across Seongje’s cheek with a sharp slap that echoes in the room. Seongje’s head jerks to the side, a low, filthy moan spilling from his lips, eyes fluttering with twisted pleasure.
Hyuntak freezes, staring down at Seongje, a flicker of horror cutting through the haze of his irritation—he just slapped him. Before he can process it, he spits on Seongje’s face, the act raw and instinctive, saliva hitting his cheek and dripping down his jaw. Seongje’s eyes glint, unfazed, as he licks his lips, tasting it, that infuriating smile spreading wider
“You’re horrible for me, you know that?” Hyuntak mutters, pressing his thumb against Seongjes pulse.
“Oh yeah, I know,” Seongje purrs, his voice dripping with honey. He shifts, legs wrapping around Hyuntak’s torso, pulling him closer, hips grinding up. With a smile, he whispers; “Use the gun.”
Hyuntak’s breath hitches, those three fucking words just fuelling an already lit fire. He shoves Seongje back, pinning him against the bed, the mattress catching Seongje’s head as he lands with a soft thud. Hyuntak’s hand fumbles for the nightstand, grabbing a packet of lube. Seongje’s eyes track the movement, and he mocks. “Lube? Really? You’re not even gonna push it in raw? You’re a fucking pussy.”
“Shut up, whore,” Hyuntak growls, his voice a low snarl as he coats his dick with the lube, slicking himself up with one rough stroke. He smears the rest over Seongje’s hole, fingers pressing in just enough to make Seongje’s hips twitch, a stifled moan escaping despite his bravado. Hyuntak lines himself up and pushes in, hard and unyielding, the stretch making Seongje’s breath wait.
Then Seongje laughs—straight up laughs—as Hyuntak bottoms out, head rolling back against the mattress, the sound low and breathy, punched out from his gut. “Fuck, that’s it,” he gasps, legs tightening around Hyuntak’s waist, urging him deeper.
Hyuntak’s knee slips slightly, a sharp twinge of Phantom pain shooting through the scar Seongje pressed into it earlier, and he grits his teeth, hyper-aware of the ache but refusing to show it.
“Aw, does your knee hurt?” Seongje taunts, voice syrupy with mock concern, eyes glinting as he catches the slight wince Hyuntak can’t hide.
“Shut up for once in your life, won’t you,” Hyuntak hisses, thrusting harder, each snap of his hips punishing, meant to wipe that smug look off Seongje’s face. He presses the gun to Seongje’s temple, the cold barrel digging into his skin, steady even as his other hand tightens around Seongje’s throat, fingers squeezing just enough to make Seongje’s moans choke off into gasps. Seongje’s eyes flutter, his body arching up into every brutal thrust, his fucking grin still there.
“Look at you,” Hyuntak mutters, voice low and cutting, his hips relentless, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the room. “Grinning like you own me.” He leans closer, eyes boring into Seongje’s, voice dropping to a venomous growl. “But you fucking don’t. You know you could overpower me, but you don’t. You give me the stuff to get rid of you for good. You know why?” His thumb presses harder into Seongje’s throat, cutting off just enough air to make him feel funny. “Cause you fucking love this.”
Seongje’s world is a haze of sensation and pressure, the gun’s cold bite at his temple, Hyuntak’s cock driving into him, hard and warm, but also the hand on his throat making his pulse pound in his ears. It’s fucking perfect—the way his vision blurs at the edges, dizzy with the rush of being pinned, owned, degraded. He feels alive, every nerve sparking as Hyuntak’s thrusts hit just right, making his thoughts fade out and his breath hitch. He focuses his eyes on Hyuntak’s face, those sharp features twisted with barely-contained fury, and it’s like a drug, knowing he’s the one pushing Hyuntak to this edge. He surges up, chasing Hyuntak’s lips, desperate for a kiss, for more of that raw connection.
Hyuntak shoves him back, palm slamming against Seongje’s chest, pinning him to the mattress. “Stay down,” he snarls, but Seongje doesn’t listen. He tries again, lips brushing Hyuntak’s before another rough push sends him crashing back, a low moan spilling out at the force. Seongje’s smile widens, fingers grabbing Hyuntak’s jaw, pulling him close. This time, he moves faster, using the leverage of his legs still wrapped around Hyuntak’s waist to twist their bodies. With a sudden, fluid shift, he flips them, Hyuntak landing beneath him on the mattress with a grunt, Seongje straddling his hips.
Seongje doesn’t miss a beat, sinking down onto Hyuntak’s cock, taking him deep with a slow, taunting roll of his hips. His hand finds Hyuntak’s, the one still gripping the gun, and he forces it up, pressing the barrel back to his own temple, his grin feral and unhinged.
“I do,” he breathes, voice thick with pleasure as he starts riding Hyuntak, hips grinding non rhythmic, desperate. His other hand braces on Hyuntak’s chest, nails digging in just enough to sting, his eyes locked on Hyuntak’s, daring him to push back. "I do." He repeats, voice whiny as his head lulls sideways.
Hyuntak’s jaw clenches, his free hand shooting up to grab Seongje’s hip, fingers bruising as he tries to wrest back control, thrusting up to meet Seongje’s movements. “You’re fucking insane,” he mutters, voice rough, the gun steady against Seongje’s temple despite the way his body betrays him, hips bucking into Seongje’s heat. Seongje’s laugh is breathy, head tipping back as he rides harder, the gun’s pressure only making him grind down faster, chasing the high of it all.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Seongje gasps, his voice raw, hips snapping down to take Hyuntak deeper. He leans close, lips hovering over Hyuntak’s, teasing, not kissing, knowing it’ll drive him insane “C’mon, baby, make me feel it. Shoot me or fuck me harder—your choice.” His moan is loud, shameless, hand tightening around Hyuntak’s wrist, forcing the gun harder against his temple, like it’s his fucking lifeline.
Hyuntak pulls the trigger.
The click of the empty chamber rips through the air, sending a chill down Seongje’s spine. His hips stutter as his grin drops, eyes wide, dick leaking furiously as the shock hits, pure adrenaline and arousal crashing through him. He’s never been this turned on, the edge of danger making his head spin.
Hyuntak seizes the moment, rolling Seongje to the side in one fluid motion, shoving him up against the bedframe, the wood biting into Seongje’s back. He’s silent, eyes burning, as he slams into Seongje, each thrust brutal. Seongje’s still reeling, breathing hard, staring at the gun in Hyuntak’s hand until Hyuntak shifts it, tucking it under Seongje’s chin, the cold barrel pressing sharp against his skin. Seongje’s wide eyes meet Hyuntak’s, heart pounding with his arousal spiking higher.
Hyuntak pounds into him, hips ruthless, the bed creaking under the force. Seongje breathes out a shaky “fuck,” his crazed smile spreading again, voice breaking. “You really are fucking insa—” Hyuntak’s hand clamps over his mouth, silencing him. His eyes squeeze shut as he presses the gun harder under Seongje’s chin, fucking him against the bedframe with intensity. Seongje’s moans are muffled, his body arching, sweat slicking his skin as he takes every brutal thrust, so fucking into it he’s trembling, dick throbbing untouched.
Hyuntak’s hips snap forward, relentless, sweat beading on his brow as he cants into Seongje, driving deeper, the slick heat overwhelming. Seongje’s muffled moans grow desperate, his body pinned, helpless under Hyuntak’s hand and the gun’s threat. Hyuntak’s fucks him like he’s trying to break him, until he cums deep inside, a low grunt escaping as he presses himself in, holding there, pinning Seongje to the bedframe.
When he’s done he pulls his hand from Seongje’s mouth, letting him gasp. The gun cocks again with a sharp click, Hyuntak pointing it at Seongje’s face, eyes locked on his. Seongje’s smile returns then, fucked-out and wild, staring back, wanting it.
Hyuntak sighs at the sight, loud and heavy.
He lowers the gun, not pulling the trigger again.
He pulls out with a wet sound. Then, he stands, tossing the gun onto a pillow beside Seongje, its weight sinking into it. Without a word, he turns and walks out, leaving Seongje panting, cum leaking down his thighs, staring at the gun like it’s a fucking trophy.