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𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝑨𝐍𝐀

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗜𝓞 ──── the two of you hardly get along, yet yearn for each other so badly. you can’t keep your hands off of him and he can’t keep his off of you, and that’s how it’s always been. but you feel something much deeper than just desire now, yet, he refuses to choose you. time and time again, he refuses to make you his priority or to settle down. so you use him in the same way he used you.

﹙ 𝟏,𝟖𝟐𝟔 ﹚ rockstar!hongjoong x fem!r | smut (18+) 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜 + frenemies with benefits brother’s best friend riding unprotected sex swearing petnames ﹗

𝓁𝘢𝘯𝘪 speaks : loosely based on the vibes of ‘dirty diana’, not the lyrics. (edit: i hate this fic so fucking bad but i just wanted to get the idea out there 😭)

sweaty bodies swayed and grinded on each other, the air around them thick and reeking of strong liquor that only a few of them could actually handle. the strumming of a jackson soloist electric guitar blared through the speakers of the stadium, its strings singing a seducing melody.

the fingers that slid across the strings were slender and silver clad, slightly red from the strumming but they never halted. they continued to produce a sound that was so divine, so beautifully written, it almost hypnotized the crowd.

those fingers and that guitar belonged to a man. a man who loved nothing more than what he was doing right then and there—feeding the crowd his music. no one could take away his love for it, not even you.

for 13 years, he’d played in the same band and even did some work on his own, but he was always on stage no matter who he was with. it was where he resided and where he’d be til the day he died. there was nothing anyone could do or say to change that.

yet, there you stood, in that same crowd. your eyes following every move of his, occasionally flickering up to watch his brows furrow or the way the veins in his neck stood out when his raspy voice came through the speakers.

you watched as the lights dimmed, showcasing a red hue on the stage. the lights beamed down on him—you could see the bullets of sweat that had formed on his forehead and rolled down his face. he panted as he strummed the last few notes of the song, his fingers finally catching a break and the crowd erupting with applause.

you stood amongst the wasted concert goers and just watched him up on the stage, watched him relish in all the praise he received. you didn’t clap, but instead you began to make your way to the back of the audience, trying to find a way out as you pushed past people.

once you found the hallway, you took the door that lead to the backstage area, where all the makeup artists and stylists would be waiting. even as you got further from the main arena, you could still hear people cheering for him, the band, and other incomprehensible screams.

“hongjoong!” “one more, just one more!”

as you walk on, the sounds become muffled behind you. your knuckles brushed against the cold walls as you traveled down the corridor, in search of a door.

some staff passed by you but none of them batted an eye. majority of them were used to seeing you, whether it was backstage or in vip sections of the shows. maybe even leaving the hotels that hongjoong checked into while he was on tour.

they knew your face and your name because of your acquaintance with their boss, but also because of your brother. your brother was the leader of the band, but him and hongjoong were inseparable. they were the ones who made the group happen.

half of the staff were convinced that you were mostly around to see and support your brother, but everyone else knew what was going on. they knew your secrets but never stuck their nose where it didn’t belong.

your brother didn’t have a clue, though. and you hoped that he wouldn’t know anytime soon.

what you and hongjoong had wasn’t anything super serious and was mostly for your own pleasure. you both hardly got along so if anything, your brother wouldn’t suspect a thing.

but somewhere along the line, your feelings began to change. for you, it wasn’t just for sex anymore. it started to become something else.

you didn’t know why, but you found yourself lingering around him more. when he would be writing or working in the studio, after sex and you’re still laying beside him instead of gathering your clothes and leaving. or even sending him sweet little messages before he went on stage—to which he never responded but it still felt good to do.

from the beginning, hongjoong made it clear that he didn’t want anything but your body and that his career was where his heart was, he didn’t have time for anything else but that. and at first, it was fine with you but now you weren’t so sure.

now, it wasn’t enough. the quickies and sneaking around needed to come to an end.

toward the end of the hallway, you’d found the doorknob of the room you’d been looking for, turning it slowly and stepping in.

the lights of the vanity illuminated the entire room, clothes scattered one chair and a few towels on the loveseat. you shut the door behind you, your eyes carefully scanning the area for a place to settle for the time being.

you waltzed over to where the vanity rested, taking a quick peek at yourself in the mirror. the simple black dress you wore still looked just as good as it did before, the material fitting perfectly around every part of your body, and doing a damn good job at accentuating your figure.

you took a seat in its chair, continuing to check yourself, occasionally patting at your face to make sure your makeup stayed in place.

as time went on, you didn’t hear much noise from the crowd meaning the show had come to an end. hongjoong was probably coming off of stage, towel slung around his neck as his team surrounded him—fanning him, giving him water, and whatever else he wanted or needed.

he was probably already peeling his clothes off, ready to crash in the dressing room—

click.

the sound of the doorknob turning interrupted your thoughts.

in he stepped, with wrinkled clothes still on his body, his bleached hair damp and disheveled. a white towel slung around his neck, just like you’d imagined.

you said nothing, keeping your eyes on your reflection as if you didn’t even see him.

a soft chuckle left his lips when he saw you, watching as you avoided his gaze.

“look who came crawling back for more.. still not over last time?”

his tone had a certain level of cockiness that would’ve turned you on before, but now has you clenching your jaw.

“i’m here to end this.” you said, finally meeting his gaze.

hongjoong stood there for a moment before erupting in a fit of laughter. his shoulders shook as he cackled in your face, making his way toward you.

“oh baby,” he was behind you now, watching you through the mirror. “you know i hate goodbyes.”

you scoffed, “hongjoong—“

his hands came to your shoulders, kneading your skin like dough. this was his favorite thing to do, to distract you from arguing him down about something.

“what makes you think i’m ready for this to end, huh?” he asked quietly, still gazing at you through the mirror.

you knew that hongjoong could easily get someone else to toy with, to use for his own pleasure, but there was something about you that made him stay. it wasn’t love, but maybe because you were the only one stupid enough to come back to him.

“for once, it’s not about what you want.” you mumbled. his hands traveled down to your arms as he leaned down, his lips nearly touching your ear.

clearly he didn’t care. in the end, he always got what he wanted anyway.

“alright,” he said. “what do you want, then?”

“for this to end—i just said that.”

“that’s not all, though, right?”

there was really no use in trying to explain your feelings to him, it wasn’t something he’d understand, nor would he try to. right now, lying was your only option. in order for him to get the message, you had to act like him. he would only get it if he felt the same way you did. used.

so you stood up from your spot at the vanity, turning to face him.

he raised his brow, watching you closely.

you bring your hands up to his face, pulling him in to press your lips against his. a kiss that was anything but gentle, the desperate kind.

your lips moved against each other’s in a hurry, breath huffing into his mouth as you grabbed at his button up. you balled the material up, gripping it as tight as you possibly could.

with your lips still on his, you guide him backwards until the back of his knees hit the sofa. he plops into the seat below him, staring up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes.

he cracks a smile, his fingers coming to undo the first few buttons of his shirt.

“thought you wanted this to end?”

you climb on top of him, both of your knees caging him in. without saying anything, your lips are back on his and his hands are flying to your waist, just like they usually do.

hongjoong pulls at your dress, lifting it above your hips, your black panties now on display. his hands travel down to the underside of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh.

“no foreplay, none of that,” he huffs into the kiss. “i wanna be inside.”

you shift against him, lifting yourself to find the front of his pants. he slides your panties to the side as you fumble with his belt, undoing the buckle.

in no time, you have his zipper pulled down, his hips lifting to pull his trousers down to his knees.

his cock is already hard when he shuffles out of his underwear, your hand coming to stroke the base before he’s inside.

he lets out a shaky breath, “c’mon, put that pretty pussy on me, sweet girl.”

if you weren’t so busy trying to get revenge on him, his praise would’ve meant something to you, but it went in one ear and out the other.

you gave him what he wanted, eventually sinking down on his length, watching as his head tilted back in pleasure.

“fuuuck,” he groans, his hands coming to grip your hips. you start to move, bouncing on him slowly as a few of your own moans slip out.

you wrap your arms around him in a hug, leaning down to peck his lips.

“this is all you get,” you panted. “you better make the most of it.”

hongjoong wasn’t hearing a word you said, too focused on the way your walls clamped down on him.

“w-what?”

you didn’t bother giving him an answer, he would see what you meant. when you got to cum and he didn’t. when you finished, leaving him there and never showing your face again.

he held onto you, grunting as you moved faster, not even knowing what was in store for him.

confessing to him wasn’t an option and you weren’t sure why you thought you had the guts to do so before. using him felt better than the vulnerability. he needed a taste of his own medicine.

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