haii could i please order a pizza with sicillian crust with red sauce, and jalapenos, chicken, and tomatoes and my drinks are mtn dew(dom), beer and diet coke. Served by Max Verstappen please!!
Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
sicillian crust dating red sauce rough sex jalapenos "always such a fucking brat" chicken "awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" mt dew dom (reader) beer edging diet cock recording kink served by Max Verstappen
Max Verstappen x Dom reader
AN: I am so pleased with how busy the Pizzeria has been! I work at night today so I'm gonna get a couple fics more pizzas done before I have to go in.
TW - edging, sub max, dom reader, begging, unprotected sex, filming, taunting
WC 2100+
Y/N POV
I've been watching Max from the other side of the bar for the past 15 minutes while he talks to Checo about something having forgotten about the drink he was supposed to be getting me.
Another 5 minutes pass before Max is finally waving the bartender down to orders drinks and another 3 minutes before I watch Max approaching with his puppy smile trying to sweeten me up once he saw the cold stare I was giving him.
"Max it's been almost half an hour since you told me 'I'll be right back just gonna get your drink' right back my ass" I saw while rolling my eyes and talking the drink he was offering me.
"M'sorry, Checo was talking about the car," Max tells me sheepishly. I could tell he was sorry so I decided to brush it off and pull him to my side before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
"It's fine, just stay on task next time," I tell him softly whispering into his ear.
I don't know how or when it happened but there had been a shift in max and I's relationship. At one point in time, Max was a young curious boy doing any and everything he could to dominate me and 'keep me in check' but as the years progressed there was a switch and he was no longer the one wearing the pants in the relationship. Most people just assumed Max was whipped but the very few who actually knew about the dynamic just understood it. To them it all made sense, on track, Max was a dominant force that instilled fear in his fellow drivers but off the track, he just needed an outlet to be taken care of.
"I promise," Max whispers before placing a kiss on my lips.
"Love you," he says when he pulls back. "Love you too"
As the night progressed Max had done really well about doing what he's asked but then Lando showed up and I knew instantly I was gonna lose him in the crowd.
I trust Max and I have no issues with him going off but being left at a table by myself surrounded by people I had never met was making me grow more anxious than I would like to admit.
It was about an hour later when I finally saw Max approaching the table with a dopey smile across his face letting me know he had definitely had another drink or two.
"Hi baby," Max says while plopping down right next to me not picking up on the annoyance radiating off of me.
"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" I ask back watching as the smile on Max's face instantly falls.
"Wha- huh? Wait, what did I do?" Max stutters, struggling to try and figure out what to say.
"You just disappeared for over an hour. You left me alone at this dan table and you didn't even tell me where the fuck you went or ask if I wanted to join," I tell him back piching his thigh slightly under the table.
"M'sorry. I promise I've been trying to be good. Don't wanna make you mad, schat" Max mumbles clearly feeling the shame of the verbal lashing he was gonna get later when we got back to the apartment.
"You're gonna be in tears tonight," I reply back straight faced not cracking a normal smile.
"Please just one more chance," Max begs knowing I meant every word.
"I gave you a chance with Checo. I don't understand how you hanging out with Lando somehow always results in you getting punished. Maybe we should send him a video of you tonight to let me know he's a terrible influence," I tell him while looking into his eyes before placing a soft kiss on his cheek to throw him off.
"You wouldn't" Max says with wide eyes of the threat of sending a sex tape. I just shrug my shoulders playing along with the bit.
"I don't know, I think he would love to know that the man he's fighting to get the World Driver Championship is just a needy whiney little bitch," I reply back making Max whine.
"You're a meanie," Max mumbles.
"And you're a brat. Don't we make a perfect pair," I saw with a smile on my face.
When we finally get back to the apartment for the night Max was pretty much sober knowing I would wait until morning if he wasn't sober. He chose take his punishment now versus the morning when he would be nursing a hangover.
"Go into our room, make sure the cats are out of the room, then strip down and be laying on you back in the bed. I'll be there in 5 minutes," I say the second the door is closed.
Max makes quick work of disappearing into our room where I assume he listened to every word I said.
In the 5 minutes, I stripped down into the lingerie set I had chosen to wear under my outfit before making my way down the hallway where I find Sassy sitting by the door staring up at me curiously. I give her a quick pet before slipping into the room to find Max exactly how I told him to be. I look around the room and found a neatly stack of clothes letting me know that Max had folded them up instead of throwing them arounf our room.
"I see you remember some of our rules," I saw while staring at the clothes so Max understood what I was referencing.
When I start climbing into the bed with Max I can see him tensing slightly in anticipation.
"You know how embarrassing it was tonight?" I said before spitting onto Max's cock and starting to jerk him off making him instantly grow hard under my hand.
"I was sat there all alone for over an hour. I looked dumb as fuck. I'm sure the Monaco gossip is gonna eat that up "Max Verstappen disappears leaving his long-time girlfriend alone at the table' You know how media is, they're gonna make it seem like there's trouble in paradise. When in reality it's just little Maxie being a brat. Oh! I almost forgot," I stop my teasing to grab my phone which I brought with me into the room.
"Say hi to Lando," I say while pointing the camera at Max's face. He's giving the camera such a pained yet slutty look it makes me laugh at his desperation. I wait a couple seconds before my voice booms through the room, "I said, Say hi to Lando." While verbally reprimanding Max I send a quick slap to his inner thigh close to his dick before pinching the same spot making Max squirm a bit.
"Hi, Lando," Max mumbles barely audible.
"Try that again. I hear the way you yell at your engineer. Such a disrespectful boy," I tell him with a raised brow.
"Hi, Lando" Max finally says in a loud enough voice to be heard.
"Good boy," I tell him while moving my unoccupied hand back to his dick making sure I have the perfect angle to get Max and his already wet with precum ccok.
"So needy. You're already dripping for me," I say with a smirk on my face.
"So good, schat" Max whines making me speed up slightly just to watch Max's breath hitch.
"I love it when you get like that," I mumble while squeezing Max's cock a bit harder.
"M'close," Max mumbled making me speed up just slightly before pulling my hand away and watching Max's eyes roll into the back of his head and tremble slightly from his pleasure being ripped away in a matter of seconds.
"No," Max whines dragging out the O sounding so desperate.
"Awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" I tease while starting to jerk Max off again while zooming the camera in on Max's cock dripping with precum.
"Schat, please," Max says already starting to beg.
"Oh come on, you can handle more than one," I tell him while leaning down and kicking softly at his tip collecting a bit of his precum.
I shuffle down the bed slightly to start pulling Max into my mouth and down my throat taking all of Max's length into my mouth making sure to bob my head slightly before bringing Max to the edge all over again.
I could tell when he was getting close again because his thighs started tensing under my hands making me rip away from Max's cock to watch him thrash around while bucking his hips to try and gain some kind of friction.
"Fuck no," Max whines staring straight at that the camera that I angled perfectly on his face.
"I love watching you get progressively more needy," I say with a smirk while gripping onto his cock and giving it a rough couple jerks before pulling Max into my mouth again.
I didn't give Max much time to calm down so he was on the edge rather quickly.
"Please, I'm gonna cum," Max says making me bod my head a bit faster before pulling away and watching Max try and chase his orgasm on his own by moving his hand to go and finish himself off but I quickly get a grip on his wrist and giving Max a look that says knock it off.
"No more," Max whines making me smirk slightly.
"Can you give me one more?" I question with a raised brow making Max whine but slowly start to nod his head.
"Yes, I can give one more," Max mumbles softly making me smile softly.
I started jerking off his cock softly making sure I'm filming everything again. I loved it when Max got like. The noises, his hips bucking, and the pure desperation in his eyes always seemed to turn me on.
I could tell Max was getting close but I wanted to push him farther than previous so I continue my movements till the second I know Max will cum I rip my hand away and watch as Max lets out a roar of desperation while jerking his body around not being able to gain any friction as I moved away slightly.
"Please, I need it. I can't do it anymore. I need to cum baby, please," Max begs making me smile softly.
"I'm gonna let you cum in a minute," I tell Max softly while rubbing his thigh in a soothing manner making Max whimper at the touch.
I turned the video off and tossed my phone away from us. I was still sitting in my lingerie set which is completely soaked through both from just witnessing Max get to the point of begging and also because I had snuck a couple fingers into my folds and teased my clit while giving Max head.
I stand from the bed softly and strip down completely before climbing back into the bed and climbing on top of Max before instantly sinking all the way down on Max.
"Oh fuck," I moan when I feel Max stretch my tight walls. I knew neither of us would last very long but looking at Max's face he was completely blissed out.
"So good," Max mumbled making his accent come out a bit thicker.
"So big baby," I moan while softly grinding my hips to gain some friction but not enough stimulation to bring Max or I to an orgasm.
"More, please" Max begs and I give him exactly what he wants because I start bouncing my hips slightly making both Max and I moan at the pleasure coursing through our bodies.
It doesn't take me long for the knot in my stomach to grow alerting me of the incoming orgasm. I look at Max's face and can tell he's trying to hold his orgasm off until I was cumming.
"Cum for me baby," I whisper out bouncing harder on Max's cock throwing me off the edge and into a violent orgasm.
The way Max's hips were erratically thrusting and the feeling of him filling me up sent me over the edge into a shaking orgasm. I'm shaking on Max's cock trying to ride both of our orgasms out.
"So good baby," I whine softly still feeling the aftershocks of the intense orgasm I just had.
"Thank you," Max says softly through staggered breath still trying to catch his breath again.
"You did good for me," I tell Max softly while pulling off his cock and laying down on his chest.
"You're not gonna send that to Lando right," Max mumbles softly making me chuckle a little and shake my head no.
"You know I would never, but I did love watching you get desperate on camera. Might start having to do that more often," I tell him softly looking up to watch his face. I could see the conflict in his eyes but he still nodded his head letting me know it was something he would be willing to do again.
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moon song || ljh
warnings: post breakup au. ex idol!reader. reader has an implied suicide attempt(s) in the past. reader is implied to do something akin to relapsing at the end of the fic. ed talk. lots of pressure that comes w being an idol. clubs. drinking. seungcheol hates y/n for leaving. leaving the idol industry behind. seeing your ex after four years. hurt w very little comfort. right person, wrong time.
word count: 4.2k
a/n: vent piece mostly. abt my frustration of still being sick, abt my frustration of not seeming to get better, abt how it never seems to stop. abt all of my wasted potential as a person. all of it, none of it, everything and nothing at all. i am so tired.
please read with caution. this is just a lot of emotions all in one place.
The loud bass that hits your head as soon as you enter the club makes your head pound immediately. It’s been four long years since you’ve even been in this part of Seoul, let alone been in a club with this group of ex-colleagues.
Ex-colleagues is certainly one way to put it. They were all so much more, and you know that this is just an excuse for all of them to get drunk. You wonder briefly if Jihoon’s here. He never used to drink, but then again, he didn’t do a lot of things until you were in the picture. You wonder how much has changed now that you’re not.
The memory of him burns like a hot iron branding your back, and you head to the nearest table of refreshments to grab a drink. If he’s here, you’ll need all the alcohol you can get your hands on. Maybe that makes you no better than anyone else; no better than the scene you so desperately needed to leave four years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.
You’re no longer apart of it. What you do now won’t cost you your career. If the night ends with you passed out in an alley way simply because you saw your ex at an album release party for an album he produced, so be it. He never comes to these things anyways.
At least, he didn’t when you knew him. You haven’t known Jihoon for a long time. It’s been four years after all; a lot can change in a week, let alone four years.
Like your decision to leave the K-pop industry. You had mulled over it for weeks, before you brought it up to anyone, and you didn’t go to Jihoon first. He was the last person you told. At least, officially, that you were leaving.
All those years of work as a trainee, just for it to be nothing. All of the tears, the angry screams into your pillow, the poverty your company forced you into in the first few years of your career because it was boarding on bankruptcy. All of this wasted potential. Maybe you could’ve been someone great.
You were, for a few years. Your group took off, and the first few years of success made all of the hard work feel like it was worth something. But as the saying goes, too much of a good thing won’t be good for long.
The pressure started to build, and it built until it boiled over and you were found on the verge of doing something terrible in your bathroom by your boyfriend and your manager after a week of unusual silence. Jihoon never was a crier, but god did he sob as he held you in the back of the ambulance. He had never begged for anything the way he begged for you to talk to him.
Please, god, please talk to me Y/N. Please, baby. I can’t— I can’t lose you.
It’s funny, really, how things work out. You dug yourself so deep into this hole of despair from the pressure of being an idol, that the only way out of it was to completely separate yourself from that life and start over.
After terminating your contract, you broke up with Jihoon. Or, you didn’t break up with him, only told him that you needed to take a break while you sorted yourself out. After being on a break for four years, is it still just a break? Or are you broken up at that point?
Both you and Jihoon know the answer to that.
Three years of no social media, no articles about you, none of your old friends reaching out to check in on you because they held a contractual obligation to be nice to you in the hallways. Three and a half years out of the spotlight. Three and a half years of peace, of healing, of sorting your life out and learning how to breathe again.
It’s been four years without Jihoon, and you didn’t really think much about the consequences that potentially sharing a space with him would have. But now they’re suffocating. All you can think about is the potential possibility of him being here, which, he wouldn’t be, right? He hates these kinds of gatherings. He used to skip his own release parties to watch shitty romance movies with you on the couch in his studio.
Does he have someone new to watch romance movies with? Or has he given up romance altogether? You know from the first few months, updates provided by Soonyoung, that he didn’t take the distance very well. You know that he missed you, and he worried about you constantly. You know you’re spiralling, and you know all those years of therapy will be for nothing if you don’t pull yourself out of it.
You don’t have to do that, because Seungkwan does it for you. “Y/N? You came!” He seems elated that you’re here, off his rocker, probably drunk.
“Of course I came! It’s your first album as BSS, Seungkwan.” You smile, and it’s not forced at all. You have completely forgotten how easy it is to fall into banter with Seungkwan. It’s almost like you never left in the first place.
Except something in his eyes seems off. That’s your first red flag to turn around and get the fuck out of this club, but you don’t. “My god. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” With anyone else, the small talk would’ve taken you out back and killed you. It’s different with Seungkwan.
Different how? He was one of the only people who consistently checked in on you when you first left. As you settled into your new life, the texts became less frequent; now, four years later they’re hardly anything to notice, but he’ll still send you a text on every holiday, and he’s wished you happy birthday every year since you met him.
“I’m doing a lot better. I’m… I’m good.” You laugh softly. Seungkwan smiles at you.
“That’s good. I’ve missed having you around— of course I don’t expect you to come back into this scene, but it would be nice to see you sometime.” Seungkwan squeezes your shoulder softly and smiles wider.
“Yeah, of course. I know I’ve been gone, but I’ll make it less hard to get a hold of me. I’ve missed all of you, truth be told.” You smile back. “I’ve just… been doing a lot of healing and I think it’s about time I finally start reconnecting with people. Is everyone here?” You ask.
“Oh, yeah. We’re all here! I kind of spilled that I invited you so everyone decided to come just in case you showed up.” The depth of all doesn’t really seem to cross Seungkwan’s mind; he’s certainly not thinking about Jihoon right now, or Seungcheol for that matter. You’re pretty sure Seungcheol would punch you if he caught sight of you. Maybe Jihoon would too. You have no idea how Jihoon even feels about you.
“Even, uh, Jihoon?” The smile falls from Seungkwan’s face.
“Oh. Yeah. He’s here too.” Seungkwan swallows when he sees your face shift. “You… he-he wants to talk to you. It’s not my place to really say, but he’s not mad. I think he just wants closure.”
So maybe Jihoon wouldn’t punch you. That’s a bit of a relief.
“Oh my god! Y/N! You came!” It’s Seokmin, very clearly drunk. You didn’t keep in contact with him, though he did send you a few paragraphs over text as he wished you all the best, telling you to reach out if you ever needed anything. You didn’t take him up on the offer.
“I did!” You smile, tilting your head as you look up at Seokmin.
“Can I have a hug?” He’s already opening his arms and you slide right into them. His hug is firm and warm. You’ve missed Seokmin a lot more than you cared to admit. Seungkwan grumbles about how he should’ve asked for a hug and you laugh, pulling him into one.
You catch up with Seokmin briefly before he’s being pulled away by someone you don’t know. You stick with Seungkwan, talking about your life, the album, avoiding the subject of Jihoon.
And then you turn your head at the bright sound of laughter, and you see him. You see him, and he’s not the same mess he was when you left him with no promise of when you’d see each other next. He’s not the scared man in his early twenties who had no idea if you were going to die on him. He’s not the man who stayed with you in the hospital for days on end.
He’s not the producer you knew who’d slide his headphones over your ears as he pulled you into his lap. He’s not the warm hand that held yours because you forgot your gloves again. He’s not the hushed giggles at four in the morning, or the hurried kisses, or the soft whimpers and praises as you tangled yourselves in his bedsheets.
Jihoon isn’t yours anymore.
You had hoped he wouldn’t be such a sore subject for you anymore, but seeing him in all of his glory four years later… god does it fucking hurt. You’ve done a lot of healing in the last four years, but in that time you never really had the time to process the loss of Jihoon.
Soonyoung spots you, and that’s when you know you’re doomed, because if Soonyoung is distracted, Jihoon always notices the thing that catches him off guard. You try to pull your eyes away from Jihoon, but you can’t. You swear he’s gotten more beautiful in the last four years.
He’s gotten bigger, physically— far more muscular. You can see the curve of his pecks through his shirt, one that isn’t even tight against his body. Jihoon’s always been a big fitness buff, but it appears he’s put more effort into himself. His biceps strain against the fitted sleeves of his long sleeve black shirt.
Jihoon’s face looks different too. He still has the same round cheeks you used to always pinch and prod at. His jawline is still soft, but it’s more defined. His eyes are bright, and the bags under them are still there. You wonder briefly if he’s ever gotten rid of them; if the skin under his eyes has ever matched the rest of his milky complexion.
His hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Dark and flowy, it’s reflective and healthy, half tied up with what would be his undercut hanging freely. A few pieces frame his face. It looks soft and healthy. Jihoon looks soft and healthy.
He’s smiling as he scans the crowd to find what Soonyoung is distracted by, and then he spots you. The smile is wiped off of Jihoon’s face faster than your brain can even register it. Seungkwan stiffens beside you, hand finding your shoulder to steady you as you stumble briefly, but the pull between you and Jihoon is too much.
Both of you start moving towards each other, pushing your way through the crowd. “Y/N.” His voice comes out in a breath, chest heaving and then he’s there, right in front of you, after four years.
You don’t know what to say, can’t process the fact that he’s in front of you, as beautiful as ever. “Jihoon,” you echo, “hi.” You can’t help the small smile that threatens to pull at your lips. The tension on Jihoon’s face eases, but he doesn’t smile back.
“Hi. How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, and if it was anyone else, it would’ve been a sad attempt at small talk. It’s Jihoon, so you know he’s asking how you’re doing now, if you’re better. A part of him is asking if you still feel like killing yourself. The answer to the last part is no.
“I’m… better. A lot better.” You laugh awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t doing okay.” Now, Jihoon actually does smile at you, and though it’s small, it’s still there.
“You look a lot better. Healthier. I’m glad.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink as he looks down at you. He’s right; you’re much healthier now. There’s solid meat on your bones, your thighs touch and your ribs don’t show anymore. Your face has filled out, cheeks full and round. Your eyes don’t look as though they’re sunken into your skull, they’re brighter now; they seem to shine with life in a way they never have before.
Jihoon takes you in properly, and god, you’ve gotten so much more beautiful since the last time he saw you. It hurts. It hurts a lot to see how good you look now, without him. He knows it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it still hurts nonetheless.
You look healthy, like an actual person and not a skeleton, and you were never that way when you were an idol. You were never like that when you were with Jihoon.
“Oh, um, thank you. Should we… should we sit? We have a lot to talk about.” You laugh again to hide your nerves. Jihoon can still read you, and he knows you’re brimming with nerves. He knows you’re a little scared, probably more than a little, and he is too.
You’ve never breached the subject, hardly even talked about your breakup. Jihoon doesn’t like to think about it. He just doesn’t. He doesn’t like to think about how much worse you were doing, even if it destroyed him. The breakup was harder on you, tenfold, and you went through it alone.
“I- uh. Yeah, yeah, we can go sit. It’s probably about time we talk.” Jihoon laughs nervously, closing his eyes for a second. He wordlessly starts walking towards the vacant booths of the club. You follow close behind.
Jihoon sits down, and you take a seat across from him. It’s silent for a few moments. Both of you are staring at your cups, not drinking, just swirling your liquids of choice.
Jihoon speaks first, but he can’t look at you. “Why’d you have to leave me?” He asks, and his voice breaks softly as he says it. You certainly weren’t expecting that as the first question he asked, but you don’t really know what else he would’ve asked.
“I… I had to leave everything that had to do with being an idol behind. You… you included.” It’s a shitty answer, but you can’t think in Jihoon’s presence.
“I understand that, but I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you get help. You didn’t have to do it by yourself, Y/N. I loved you; I would’ve done anything to make sure you were safe.” Jihoon’s bites at his lip, eyes sparkling in the low lights of the club. He looks like he’s about to cry, and god does it break your heart.
He loved you, past tense. It’s jarring. It stings, but what else did you expect? For him to still want you? That’s unrealistic and completely unfair to expect from him.
It hits you then that you might still be in love with him. That makes this next part so much harder.
“I know. I know, but it made sense to me at the time. I can’t- I can’t rationalize anything that I did at that time in my life. None of it makes sense, but I made a lot of choices that I regret and I can’t go back on them now. It’s too late for that and I’m- I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, Jihoon. All of it; everything, god, I’m so sorry.” You spill, and the soft burn in the back of your throat makes it hard to speak as you try not to cry. “You didn’t deserve to deal with any of it.” You whisper softly.
“Y/N,” Jihoon whispers back, “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want closure.” Closure. Jihoon wants closure, meaning he wants to move on. The tears in his eyes shine brightly, though they don’t fall, but he’s crying nonetheless, and that makes you feel worse.
“I don’t deserve that though. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for just leaving you. Seungcheol still hasn’t forgiven me; why the hell would you?” You swallow hard, and that seems to break the dam as the first few tears slip down your cheeks.
“Seungcheol has his own issues. We never told him the full story, and maybe that’s why he’s still… iffy about the whole thing. But I forgive you. I just, I want to stop hiding from you. I don’t want to be worried about running into you somewhere and not knowing what to say. I still care about you, so much, and, god does it fucking kill me to still worry about you when you’ve never made an effort to reach out to me.” Jihoon’s always been blunt, so you should’ve expected this, but it makes you feel worse; guilty. “I would’ve answered your calls, in a heartbeat. You know I would’ve.” Jihoon blinks, and the first few tears fall down his face.
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to call you after so long. I spent six months in and out of the hospital, and after that I had to get back on my feet. By the time I even had time to think about calling you, it’d been a year, and to me that was too late.” You close your eyes and exhale deeply, fingers twitching.
Jihoon used to hold your hands when you were upset to stop them from twitching so much. He used to pull your head close to his chest and wipe your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He makes no effort to do so now. Jihoon can’t even look at you properly.
He’s focused on picking at the calluses on his palms. Some things never change.
“You- six months? Y/N, fuck, I had no idea. I knew it was bad but, shit, really?” Jihoon’s voice breaks fully, and all you can do is nod. “How many more times? How many times did you—?” He can’t finish his sentence. His throat closes up.
“Four.” Jihoon has nothing to say in reply. He can’t, not with the deep hurt that settles in his chest, so you elaborate. “I really just wanted to die. The media was on my ass for the first year and it was just bad. I spent the next year after that in a rehabilitation program to fix my relationship with food and it helped a lot. I found a good therapist and I’m still seeing her. It’s helped a lot. I’m- I’m clean.” You pick up your cup, hand shaking, and take a large drink to calm your nerves.
“I’m really glad that you’re healthy now. Really, god, that’s such a relief.” Jihoon’s tears are steady now. He wipes at them with his sleeve. You mutter a soft thank you.
Outside of the booth, the noise has been blocked out by your conversation, but you hear something peculiar. It’s Seungcheol, his voice is loud and booming. He’s angry.
“What the fuck are they doing here?! Seriously, why did you even invite them?” Both you and Jihoon look up at the same time to see Joshua and Mingyu trying to deescalate the situation. Seungkwan is yelling back, face red as he tries to block Seungcheol’s view of the booth you and Jihoon are sat in.
“No, I’ve fucking had it with all of you. Defending them for just fucking leaving Jihoon without a word. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring them here?” Seungcheol is drunk and looking for a confrontation with you, and that’s enough of a threat to have you and Jihoon standing as he tries to usher you out of the club without Seungcheol seeing.
“Fuck, you should probably go.” Jihoon pulls you close to him, shielding you from Seungcheol’s view. You nod, walking fast beside him as you push your way through the crowd.
“Yah! You, get the fuck back here!” Neither of you listen as you push your way out of the door. You make the mistake of looking behind you to see Joshua and Mingyu physically holding Seungcheol back. Wonwoo is there now too, standing in front of him to prevent him from walking.
The outside air is cold and bitter. You shiver as you pull out your phone to order a ride. You and Jihoon are completely silent. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you.
“I’ll wait with you. How long?” He asks, voice shaky.
“Two minutes.” You only have two minutes left with Jihoon. It’s so finite, the time you’re spending with him. If only you had more time.
You’re not afforded that luxury as you shiver beside him. “Can I- is it okay if I—?” You nod, unsure of what he’s asking. It’s a yes either way. Jihoon pulls you into his arms in a tight, warm hug. His hands don’t find their way into your hair, or rub your back. He just holds you. It’s all he can do.
Both of you ignore the mutual swell of warmth in your chests. You’re still in love with him, you know that, and that’s why the car seems to show up in no time. Your phone chimes as the car pulls up in front of the club as you reluctantly start to separate yourselves.
There’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You tell him so. “We, fuck, I had so much more to say. I had so much more to explain. You, god, you were the right person, Jihoon. Everything else was just so wrong.” You thought the weight would’ve been lifted off your chest, but it only hurts more. You close your eyes as you turn away.
“Y/N, fuck, don’t do this to me right now.” Jihoon whispers, eyes filling with tears once again.
“I’m sorry Jihoon. I love you. I’ll see you around.” You open the door to the car.
“I, yeah. Take care of yourself.” Jihoon can’t look at you, no way in hell can he look at you as you close the door and drive off. He stands still in the cold, watching as the car disappears from his sight. He leans against the wall, head falling back as the tears start pouring freely.
As he pushes the door to the club open, it hits him hard, fills his whole body as a bone deep love for you settles. And it hurts, god does it hurt. Seungcheol’s calmed down, but the snide remark that slips past his lip doesn’t even register in Jihoon’s brain. All Jihoon recognizes is his tone, and that’s enough.
“I’ll punch you right in your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, I swear to god. Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hardly ever makes threats, but when he does it has everyone going quiet. Seungcheol, Joshua and Mingyu stop in their tracks. There’s been enough drama for one night.
Jihoon grabs a new drink and chugs it, before he goes to grab his coat. He needs to get out of here before the sob building in his throat bursts.
You manage to keep your tears at bay until you enter your apartment. You find yourself in the bathroom, against the cold tile and the porcelain of the bathtub. You don’t do anything, just sit there and breathe as the tears flow freely.
It wasn’t supposed to end like that. You were supposed to have more time to reconcile with Jihoon. You and bathrooms have seen a lot of hurt. Most of your bad decisions are made in bathrooms. You don’t do anything, you just sit there for a few minutes as you cry.
Nothing happens the next night. Or the night after. A week after the release party, Jihoon still plagues your mind and that’s when you crack. Your old manager turned friend answers the phone.
“Hi. You okay?” Yena asks softly, voice ridden with sleep.
“Drive me to the hospital? I think I need stitches.” You laugh nervously. The adrenaline has worn off and all you feel is regret.
“Y/N.” She sighs, but it’s not disappointment. She’s seen a lot of things with you, and supported you through all of them. You’re the reason she quit being a manager and went back to university. You made her realize the idol life isn’t as glamorous as it seems, and you’ve formed a very solid friendship over the past five years. “You know they’re gonna keep you for a few days, right?”
“Yeah. I know. It was impulsive. Like, I’m fine now. I just couldn’t stop thinking.” You sigh.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be on the way. Cold water and pressure until I get there, yeah?” You laugh softly.
“Already on it.” The call disconnects soon after, and you look up at the mirror. Briefly, you imagine Jihoon standing behind you in a much different situation than the one you’re in now.
His thick arms are wrapped around your waist, head leaning against yours. He’s smiling in your vision. You smile softly in your reflection, though it’s strained. The blood on your hands pulls you out of it.
a/n: i wrote this when i was going through it. i’m fine now but i seriously can’t do angst like i used to so i might write a part two or something where they end up back together.
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Weird thought rant ‼️
I always see in smuts that the MC gets a belly bulge and all that but okay, hear me out, how about MALE belly bulge? I have no idea if that’s possible due to male anatomy but I just thought that would be something
Join the cause and support Male belly bulge 😸
dw nonnie, i'm alr w/ you😌✨ (+ for reference it is possible!!)
anyway, this, for vio bc i feel like it'd be more prominent on him than my other ocs. also as a little smth for all the vio fuckers who continue to dominate the inbox🥰
NSFW under the cut!
“Shit.” Gasping breaths. Intakes hitched harder and harder. “Fuck, please. Please, I’m sorr-”
Vio's words never quite made it out of his mouth, not when your fingers quickly found their place within the wetness oozing from the space between spongey tongue and roof. Teary greens straining to meet your gaze, pleading mercy like what you were doing to him was torture, even though Vio was the one who slammed his ass back to meet your hips each time, without fail.
“Aren’t you a fucking mess?” The amusement in your voice was palpable, and you knew it got him off, what with the way he keened, forehead pressing to the sheets and hands fisting the fabric as though it could save his life. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard an apology from these pretty lips,” your point was driven home when he gagged, and your spit-slicked digits slipped out just for you to smear it to a shine on them, “best not start now, hm? It might make me wanna take pity on you and then-”
He cried your name, and you watched the muscles in his back ripple as he convulsed. Sweat glistening, mesmerising in the way rain droplets were when they ran races against glass windows, dripping into the divots of sacral dimples you were aching to dig your thumbs into.
“And then who’s gonna fuck you like this, huh?” Your cleaner hand reached out, wrapped around his throat tight enough to choke him, and pulled him up. It drove you deeper into him — had Vio's eyes rolling to the back of his skull, had him clawing at you with almost the same intensity as he moaned. “Fuck you this good,” your hand trailed to his abdomen, where skin stretched thin, “fill you up, make you scream. You know I’m the only one who can do it for you. Only I know who you are, what you deserve. Right, Vio?”
“O-Only you,” Vio rasped, “only you, Y/N. Please.”
“You keep saying that,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his jugular absent-mindedly. His pulse was fluttering, light and so fast in a way you thought suited the image of delicacy he’d crafted for the world. The way his body molded to your shape said otherwise, unbreaking, despite your efforts to do just that. “What are you begging for? What have I not given you?”
“Everything.” Wisps of blue flurried in your vision, and they were all you could see for seconds after Vio tilted his head back on your shoulder. The ocean, in the colour of his eyes. Lapping waves that undulated and moved towards you. “This much isn’t enough.” Seasalt at his nape, on your tastebuds, becoming addictive. “Give it all to me.” Threatening to drown you. “Y/N.”
For a second you were gone, and then his voice, weighted only momentarily, had you snapping back into reality, into motion, into him. “Greedy,” you tittered, index up his Adam’s apple to tap on his chin and push it down, “can’t you see that I already am?”
“Fuck.” Vio's eyes widened, the slightest bit — you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t looking. Your palm smoothed over where his belly bulged, applied a little pressure and watched his pupils blow. It was funny to you that he hadn’t noticed before. “Fuck. Y/N, wait.” Between his legs, Vio's dick twitched, clearly not as spent as either of you had first assumed, not with how it was leaking now. “Wait!”
There are things you’d never know about him; what type of pleasure coursed through his veins on seeing the strain you put on him, if it was a physical fulfillment, if it was solely the feeling, or the thought, being claimed, stretched, ruined. You never wandered about it long — after all, it didn’t matter. In seconds, the ocean overflowed for you. He spilt for you.
Vio lost his mind for you.
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