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violetnotez · 4 years ago

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Bakugo x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff+small amount of angst

⤷ Word Count: 5307+

⤷ Warnings: Drunk reader, cursing, also reader+Bakugo will be aged up (early 20′s, cause no underage drinking in this house!)

⤷ Synopsis: Bakugo doesn’t have any feeling for you. You’re just one of his shitty friends and that’s it. He’s only picking you up from a bar after your breakup because you drunk called him and not because he’s worried you’ll get hurt. He doesn’t feel his heart pang when you say you want him to drive you to his apartment, not yours. He doesn’t completely turn beet red when he sees you change into his clothes.But, as much as he denies it, Bakugo realizes he loves you when you cry to him drunkenly , saying you wished you had a lover as sweet as him

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event! Also this was actually inspired by @shoutogepi HC of Bakugo and Kirishima taking care of their drunk s/o! I honestly loved this headcannons so much, and they really inspired me to write a more angsty sort of spin on it. Here’s a link to her post (I also explicitly asked her if it was alright to take inspiration from her headcannons, just in case!)

Bingo Slot: Realized Feelings

Bakugo stepped his foot deeper into the gas, the engine in his car roaring as it zoomed through the dark streets.

Damn you and your shitty decisions.

He had been woken up in the dead of the night to his phone ringing annoyingly against his bedside table. Your caller ID of “Cute Shithead” was shining brightly against his face, his finger immediately taking the call.

He had to admit, he was a little annoyed for you calling him so damn early in the morning, but hearing your voice immediately melted any irritation. By the way your words slurred together, you sounded completely wasted. That alone could turn him into a worried frenzy, but the tone of your voice sent ice down his spine.

You sounded so lonely, so defeated, as if you had lost all hope and were giving up.

He rammed his foot again into the gas, following the directions to the club you said you were at as closely as possible over the roar of his engine.

He was just being a decent friend and helping you out, he told himself. There was no other reason why he was helping you...it wasn’t because his heart practically dropped at the sound of your voice, or how he felt his chest tighten when you said “Please come get me Katsuki”

Or that you had called him, not anybody else, to come and get you. It was all platonic-he had to keep telling himself that.

He hastily pulled into the parking lot, his car swerving into a spot a little too haphazardly. He yanked the keys from the vehicle, closing the inky black door with a thud as he looked at the building in front of him.

A bright, Neon green sign lit up the roof, a line of club goers filtering through as they waited for the bouncer to allow them in. It was pretty late in the night-2 am to be exact-so more people were stumbling out of the club than actually going on.

Bakugo quickly began to walk over to the establishment, his body weaving through drunken couples clambering to their cars or taxis. He was searching everywhere, helplessly trying to find your face in every person he saw.

Where the hell were you?

Bakugo turned to his side, looking at the asphalt that lead into the club. There were parking spots right there, all empty, probably for Ubers and Lyfts to come pick up people who had ordered them. THere were a few people sitting on the curb, waiting for their rides as they sat on their phone or blabbered drunkenly to their friends.

But then he spotted a familiar body, their shoulders slump down in exhaustion, their eyes downcast in defeat. He quickly made his way over, knowing exactly who that body belonged to.

“Shit y/n, the hell are you doing here by yourself-“

He quickly bent down, looking at you square in the face.

You gave him a weak smile, your eyes so full of relief and sadness he felt his heart ping from your expression.

He had to admit- you looked like a wreck. Your once meticulously curled hair was frizzy and in shambles from dancing, your makeup splotchy in places and black coating under your eyes.

HIs calloused hands wrapped around your waist, his other arm gently pulling your free hand around his neck for support. He felt like he was moving a ragdoll-you complied with each of his movements, your body resting against his as if you depended on him

“Well, I did have some f-friends… with me…” your murmured out, your voice thick from sleep deprivation and alcohol.

“And the hell are they?”

“-they left a few hours ago…” you slurred,” I said I’d stay… a little longer”

Bakugo began to walk you to his car, the walk more like a stumble as he tried to guide you on your wobbling feet. He felt his insides heat up with an intense flame of rage, licking up and consuming his insides. How the hell could your ‘friends’ just leave you? THis was nothing like you, to be so impulsive that you became incredibly vulnerable in public. Something was seriously wrong with you, something you had to be going through.

“Shitty friends for leaving you like this.” he replied gruffly, making no attempt to hide his obvious anger. “Are you okay? Did anybody try and do anything funny to you?”

He was worried, he had to admit that to himself- you were clearly in a wrong headspace in a pretty sketchy place. Anything could go wrong, and he wanted to make sure that nothing happened.

Not because the idea of you dancing with another guy makes him want to punch a wall.

Or trying to lure you to his apartment made him want to yell and break that imaginary mans jaw, in order to keep you safe in his arms.

Nope-strictly platonic.

You scoffed at the blonde's words, a harsh chuckle spilling out of your chapped lips. “Of course Bakugo, everybody here wants to grope the girl who looks like she’s been crying all day-

“I’m fine-really”

Somehow, even with your slurring words and clouded mind, these words were the first sober syllables you had uttered.

But- if you were fine, you wouldnt be going to a club this late at night. You would have been smart enough to at least stay alert, not completely wasted, and you definitely wouldn't be by yourself. Your werent fine, and Bakugo knew it, because you werent being you.

He was impulsive, irrational, and went with his gut feeling, even if it was a stupid or dangerous idea. You on the other hand, were like his better half: calm yet forceful, a commanding tide to soothe the volcanic eruptions of his anger.

But now you were different, a choppy whirlpool of emotions that were locked away deep inside you, the effects changing your once calm and rational demeanor into something saddened and desperate.

Bakugo gave you a long look, his red eyes slanted as he tried to read what was on your mind.

He stopped your two’s trudging, finally being in front of his car.

A protest was dying to spill from his lips, to retort and fight back the obvious lie you had just uttered. But something in your tired voice made him falter, making him feel more empathy for you than frustration

“Okay then…” he sighed, “let’s get you home,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

It was unnervingly quiet.

Bakugo had the music off, worried that the thumping bass would aggravate any possible headache you had as you curled up in the seat beside him, your high heeled shoes long forgotten on the floor of his car.

He drove much more smoothly than before, his eyes desperately trying to focus on the road. He wasn't used to this kind of you-he missed your smile, and the way you would joke and laugh with him. Of course he would act like he didn't like it, giving you snarky comments and off handed insults that would only push you even more to joke with him.

Now he felt like he was next to a shell of you- you were there, right next to him, but- You weren't there. Your smile, your spirit, your light- it was being blocked by some darkness inside you.

“Are-are you mad at me Katsuki?”

You finally spoke to him, making Bakuo’s eyes wide and his heart stop in his chest.

Why did you sound so timid?

Bakugo continues to glue his eyes on the road, his voice gruff yet uncertain.

“The hell I’d be mad at you for?”

“I don’t know…” you replied softly, “you just sounded-mad”

Shit- now he felt guilty, making you feel worse than you probably already did. It was just that he was worried, and sometimes his emotions came out quicker than his words. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you out of all people could act like this.

“Well, I’m not mad at you-I’m just-“ he sighed, trying to find the words.

“- the hell were you out that late? The club scene isn’t your thing”

You shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to him, cuddling yourself in closer to your body.

“I thought I told you-” you answered sadly, ‘I got dumped”

Bakugo blinked a couple times, the shock vibrating throughout his body. He knew you had a boyfriend, apparently Shindo Yo, the damn pretty boy of another hero agency. You were his closest friend after all, so he dealt with the news as best he could, but Bakugo has never liked the guy. He always chalked it up to him being protective over you as your friend, but the way he used to feel so angry and so frustrated whenever he saw you hold hands or hug made him want to scream. A small amount of happiness filled up his chest by hearing you say you were single, instantly making him feel guilty as he saw how distraught you were.

“The hell-“ he gulped out quickly, “what for?”

“Dont know..” you sighed, your face contorted in a grimace, “he-he said he needed to focus on his career-and that-that I was going to stop him from achieving his goals-”

Bakugo instantly felt anger erupt in his chest, his hands becoming clammy against the leather steering wheel.

“Wait-that dickwad, Shindo Yo, right? The damn extra won't amount to nothing, the hell he-”

He was rambling, the spiteful words spewing from his lips. He just couldn’t understand why your piece of shit of a boyfriend would dump someone as amazingly kind and caring as you, and go as far to say such awful words. It made him incredibly furious, and all he wanted to do was confront your now ex and give him a piece of his mind for causing you to act this way.

He was surprised though to hear your voice interject him, your tone stern yet pleading.

“Bakugo, can we not talk about it? Please?”

He wanted to kick himself for being so inconsiderate, an embarrassed blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Shit-I-okay,yeah”

The car ride continued in silence, Bakugo staring at the road in conflict, you cuddling yourself into a small ball on the leather seat.

It continued for a few minutes, until Bakugo broke the silence by clearing his throat.

“Want me to drop you off at your place?” He asked gruffly, looking at you slightly from the side.

He noticed you shift, turning to look at him with large, pleading eyes.

“Can-can we go to your place instead?” you squeaked out, almost as if worried by his response. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound mean earlier….I just- always feel so safe and warm when I go to your apartment, Katsuki”

Bakugo felt his heart quicken in his chest-you called him “Katsuki”, his name. Something in you saying that made him feel hot from flusteredness, but then you said you felt safe with him...he had never been more thankful for the darkness of night, because he knew his face was completely red.

He gulped, trying to build up the wall around his emotions you were trying to knock down. With each word or truth that spilled from your sleepy, drunken mouth, he found it harder to keep his feelings at bay. He took a deep breath, his clammy hands readjusting on the steering wheel.

You two were just friends.

He didn’t like you like that and you-you probably didn’t either.

He needed to be Bakugo, your best friend, your rock in hard times, not Bakugou, the blushing mess next to you that was concerned with his own feelings.

He clicked the turn signal on his car to the right, taking the route back to his home instead of yours as he sighed.

“-Fine.”

Bakugo pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, the bumpy street roads now turning smooth as he fit his car through the metal gate and settled into a parking spot near his apartment.

He turned the key of the car, killing the roaring engine as he stepped out of the car, the closing door as a soft thud as he commanded you to “Stay inside”.

Your sluggish head instantly perked at the statement, unable to understand what he had meant by that. But your body felt too tired, mentally and physically, and too weak to even protest. You stayed there, cuddled into the seat as Bakugo opened the door of the passenger seat, his arms outstretched as they tucked themselves under your body.

“Wait what are you-“ you asked sluggish, your eyes barely open as you wrapped your digits around his arms.

“I’m picking you up”

HIs tone was calm and forceful, as if this was a completely normal occurrence between the two of you- which it wasn't.

You instantly blushed at the prospect, excuses already forming on the tip of your tongue.

“You don’t have to, I can-“

“I could barely walk you to car and that was in flat ground,” he retorted back, I’m not gonna walk you up stairs-”

“Just let me do this”

He stated a little more softly, his voice gruff and low as he picked you up off the seat as if you weighed nothing to him. Your hands instantly latched onto his neck finding comfort by burying your head into the crook of his neck.

Shit-why you had to go and be so cute?

His grip around your body tightened, making sure you felt secure as he walked you up the plight of steps to his apartment.

Something about this felt so surreal- your warm body against his, his hands wrapping your thighs, the way your hair felt against his cheek...these were all sensations that left his heart pounding.

All of this seemed to frustrate him as much as it brought him joy-he shouldn't feel any of these tingling sensations around you. He shouldn't feel weightless and giddy, or terrified he'd do the wrong thing around you all the time. It bothered him to know end, and made him feel so frustrated.

But the most frustrating part was the fact you were oblivious- that you had this secret power over him and you didn't even know it.

He finally stepped foot in his apartment, setting you down gently as he ruffled through his pockets for his keys. His hand was still wrapped around your waist, giving you some stability as he opened the door with a slow creak, ushering you inside.

You stepped inside, feeling somewhat out of place- you had been here countless times before: parties, get togethers, the meet up place before you would hang out with the Bakusquad….so why did it feel so strange?

The room felt more intimate in a way-you had never been here without someone else, usually Kirishima.

And youd been here at night, but never this late, and the fact you had asked to sleep over- well, everything just felt so new and raw.

Thankfully Bakugo broke through your rapid thoughts, his vermillion eyes looking down at you with slight worry.

“You good? No needing to throw up or anything?” he asked gruffly.

God he felt so close- you could practically feel his heat radiating into your body still, making your cold digits beg for his touch.

Your cheeks warmed at the thoughts, a small “Mm-mm” and a shake of your head the only thing you could muster to do.

He led you over to his room, passing the small kitchen and bathroom as he did.

“Then you need new clothes- get you out of that clubbing crap”

Your mouth instantly formed into a pout, your eyes looking up at your best friend.

“It's not crap-its pretty”you corrected him, your tone playfully hurt.

“More like tight,” he replied snarkily, “ how do you even move in that thing?’’

You were about to quickly retort back that he should wear the dress and find out, but then a sudden image of Bakugo wearing your skin tight dress at a club made you instantly double over in giggles.

Bakugo gave you a questionable look, his red eyes almost judging your drunken, laughing form.

“I just keep it down with my hands silly,” you said in between giggles, your body flopping onto the plush comforter of his bed. Now you felt a little more at ease, as if the courage of alcohol had kicked into your system yet again.

Bakugo shook his head, his blonde locks swaying at the motion as he quietly said ‘Giggly ass drunk” under his breath. He began to rustle through his closet, trying his best not to stare at your form laying across his bed in such a body accentuating dress.

You hadnt seemed to notice Bakugo's rhetoric or dilemma, a soft smile gracing your lips stiill. Your propped your body up on your elbows, your tousled hair pooling against your skin.

“so what amazing little number are you gonna put me in now?”

“-This,”

You felt cloth instantly hit you square in the face, as if Bakugo had thrown it over his shoulder-most likely on purpose.

Usually you would attack the asshole for doing something like that, but you just felt too tired to even throw an insult back. Your lips pouted out once again, a small whine escaping your throat as you ripped the shirt from your face.

Bakugo grinned slightly at you ,finding your expression adorable as well as funny. He watched you inspect the shirt, the fabric as dark as your dress.

“You would think interning with Best Jeanist would have left some fashion sense in you,” you spewed out, your face clearly distraught by the shirt he had given you.

He rolled his eyes, his grin now turning into a grimace.

Was drunk you really that picky over a shirt?

“That was 5 fucking years ago, and I only interned with him cause he was one of the best,” he tried to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grown warm from your drunken disapproval. But his fiery personality kicked in, his tongue beginning to stutter over his words. “- just throw the goddamn shirt on before I let you sleep in that shit you call a dress”

“Or I could sleep in my underwear, there's other alternatives,”

your words flew out of your mouth faster than you could stop them, a triumphant grin on your face as you saw how beet red Bakugo became.

A giggle escaped from your lips, the sound ringing softly against his ears.

“Dont worry Katsuki, Ill wear the clothes,” you gave him a soft smile, cuddling the clothing to your chest.

He blinked a few times, trying to get his heart to settle back into a steady rhythm.

This wasn't real.

You didn't make him nervous.

You were just his best friend- you being in his room, in a pretty dress, making flirty remarks didn't affect him.

You were drunk-you weren't yourself right now- so why did he feel so hopeful? And for what?

He quickly spun on his heel, turning around before you could catch the glowing in his cheeks.

“Whatever-just call me if you need help” he threw over his shoulder, his hands closing his bedroom food with a loud slam.

Bakugo sat himself on the couch in his living room, his hands resting on his face, his elbow connected to his legs.

The hell was going on with him?

As he was brooding over his conflicted emotions, he heard the door of his room click open, and it seemed all his feeble attempts to slow down his heart went out the window.

There you were, clad in his black tshirt, the fabric pooling around your thighs and making your arms look tiny in the flowing fabric. You must have been wearing the shorts worn from under your dress, but still- he got a full view of your beautifully plush thighs, making heat rise to his cheeks.

Strange sensations filled his stomach, that tingling butterfly sensations filling his stomach-

The hell was wrong with him?

“For your clothes being so bland, they are pretty comfy…” you smiled up at him, his heart quickening at the small gesture.

You walked your way over the couch, resting your body opposite him, giving ample space between the two of you as you sighed in content.

“I could go to sleep right now”

Bakugo snorted, his arms wrapping against his chest as the heat continued to rise in his cheeks.

“The hell your not-”

You instantly pushed yourself up, cocking your head at Bakugou in confusion.

He had to admit it to himself- your looked-cute-, sitting there, your legs crossed with his shirt wrapped around your frame, your eyes wide and hair a mess.

He could get used to seeing you like this-

But shit he couldn't-didnt-think like that. You were his friend, nothing more.

“What do ya mean?” you asked “You were complaining about me two minutes ago, wouldn't you want me to go to sleep?”

He gave a small chuckle, his eyes looking down at the floor.

“Sure but-I'm not letting you go to sleep with all that shit on your face-”

Your hands instantly went to touch your face, your digit scrubbing against the skin.

“Huh?-Oh”

You looked down, and there on your hand was your foundation, a tiny bit too dark as it had mingled with your bronzer and highlighter, black running against your skin like tire streaks on a road.

How did you not even feel that was on your face? How drunk were you?

The thought of you being so intoxicated you forgot you had makeup on seemed like the funniest thing ever, giggles dribbling out of your lips.

“Oh my god, I forgot!” you laughed, chuckles wracking through your body.

Bakugo simply shook his head, unable to contain a smirk from gracing his lips. He got up slowly, walking over to your side of the couch to offer you his hand.

“Alright cmon-you giggly ass drunk,” he smirked, his lungs tightening as you gave him a smile of your own, your smaller hand slowly taking hold in his larger one.

You leaned into his body, already accustomed to him being your support- he would at least admit it right now...you were cute

He walked you over to his bathroom, his digit flicking on the light switch.

It was a little small, with enough room to hold two people inside. He gently pressed you against the wood of the cabinet, his hands grabbing your waist as he hoisted you on to the counter.

Any other day you would be embarrassed by this sudden closeness with your best friend but something about this felt bitter sweet. It had been so long it seemed like since someone had truly cared for you, being there by your side and making sure you were okay. It felt comforting to have Bakugou near you, but you knew this wouldnt last. You were drunk and feeling broken-is was just his obligation as your friend to get you through the night. Once you sobered up, itd be back to the way things were-bitterly lonely.

As you muddled in your emotions, your feet dangling against the cabinets, Bakugo was rummaging through in the cabinet next to you, emerging with a bottle of makeup remover.

You cocked your head at the bottle, the liquid inside an artificial yet soothing blue.

Why did he have that?

Bakugo stared down at the bottle in his hand, his red eyes quickly glancing at the writing on the side and setting it down on the counter, now rummaging for a cloth.

“This shit should work-”

Your hand grabbed the bottle, now inspecting it in curiosity.

“When did you get this?”

“Remember last time you came over,” he asked over his shoulder,” when the power went out in your apartment and you said you had to do your makeup?”

You simply nodded your head-you remembered that day. You had planned to go and watch a movie with your boyfriend-ex, and the screening was at exactly 12 am since it was premiering. You had wanted to look at least a little decent, but fate had gone against you and destroyed that plan halfway into putting on your makeup. So you had of coursed called Bakugo, who grumpily obliged to let you use his apartment.

Bakugo’s hands gently took the bottle from yours, his hot skin brushing against yours as he applied the liquid to the cloth. His frame fit snugly in between your legs, your inner thighs brushing against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Well, You left it-”

He simply stated, everything in his being trying to keep his tone leveled as he began to wipe your skin clean of the events from the night.

You had never seen Bakugo be so gentle- he was taking his time, focusing on one small area and then moving onto the next. His strokes were even and light as air, not digging into your skin or forceful in any way.

“And- and you kept it?” you gulped out, your eyes searching his own vermillion ones.

Bakugo was scared, terrified even-he didnt want to look you in your eyes.

Would he do something he regretted if he did?

He was trying to control himself, to fight everything in him all night to not let you catch on to him, to not let you or himself see his true emotions...he was getting too tired to fight, and he was scared that he’d let something slip that he didnt even know about himself yet.

“Well yeah, I wasn't just going to throw it away,” he answered,” I figured you'd come and get it,”

He paused, his hand faltering against your skin for the smallest second. Maybe-it wouldn't hurt to say something...you were drunk after all, you wouldn't remember most of tonight probably….

“-also,” he gulped out, his heart beating in his chest, “ Its nice to have reminder of you here too,”

Your eyes instantly widened, the wind knocked out of your chest, constricting almost in pain.

Why did that make you feel so-so fluttery inside?

And why did it hurt so much?

Maybe because it almost sounded like-Bakugou may care for you? More than just a friendly way?

No-it couldn't….he was your best friend….but god, it felt so good to be cared for, to actually feel wanted-

And of course had to be by someone you knew you never had a chance with.

Your shoulders began to shake, realizing how much you must have screwed up-you lost your boyfriend, was humiliated by him, and then humiliated your own self by losing control.

Bakugo was the only one you had truly could count on-he was the one person you called, and he had shown up to get you. He had tried his best to keep you comfortable, went out of his way to keep you safe, his best to keep you happy…

How long had it been since someone had been this caring to you?

Your shoulders began to shake, the weight of everything crashing down on you, tears spilling across your cheeks like rain droplets outside a car window.

How did everything turn out so wrong?

Bakugo instantly noticed your change, his body instantly panicked and worried.

“Shit-y/n, you okay? Whats wrong?” he asked, his tone desperate as he set the cloth down and wrapped his hands around your forearms, securing you as wave after wave of tears racked your body.

He wrapped you into a slow hug, his warm palms placed firmly against your back as you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck.

He felt so warm and safe, your noise buried into the soothingly sweet smell that was him.

“Katsuki I-I-Im sorry, I didnt mean to-” you blubbered out, trying your best to apologize over your heightened emotions.

Bakugo had no idea what to do- was this just something you did when drunk? He had no idea why you had started crying, and he hoped it wasn't something he did- but telling by how in pain you looked and how quickly you welcomed his embrace, this was something he didnt do and couldn't fix-at least not quickly.

He continued to hold you tightly, his hands beginning to become clammy against your back.

“Dont say sorry-Your fine, just- tell me whats wrong,”

He felt your hands ball his shirt in your fists, your chin digging deeper into his skin.

“I wish I could find a guy as great as you,”

Shit.

Bakugo’s face turned beet red, his arms stiffening at your words- when he asked what was wrong, he didnt mean something like that.

But the truth comes out when you're drunk, and Bakugo fully believed in this saying…

Did that mean-you liked him?

He couldn't deny it now- it was too hard and everything was against him at this point.

Just the small prospect of being your lover made Bakugo’s heart quicken, the little sentence you just uttered destroying the wall he had kept to protect himself from the truth.

He liked you.

Alot actually.

He scoffed, trying his best to remain calm as he cradled you in his arms.

“Im not as great as you think I am,”

He felt you cuddle yourself even deeper into his neck, your hair tickling his jawline.

You seemed to be calming down as Bakugo had had a mental crisis….your sobs were now sniffles, and you werent breathing as hard. But you still were cuddled deep into his body, as if using him to block yourself from the outside world.

“No you are, you really are…”you sighed quietly, “ even if you are an ass sometimes, you are very kind and sweet-

“I just wish I could date someone like you,”

Shit.

How could he even say anything after that?

How was even able to respond?

He wouldn't-Bakugo decided to hold you quietly, as if you never said anything...but those words were echoing inside his head.

God- you could date him in a heartbeat. But, reality kicked into Bakugou- you were drunk, and just got dumped. You were just starved of touch and affection from that.

There was no way sober you would have said something so revealing as this- you saw him as his best friend, nothing more and nothing less of that. You wouldn't jeopardize your relationship by saying something that could mean the end of your friendship.

Bakugo felt the tightness of your body loosen, your breathing now regular, something so different from a few minutes ago.

“Y/n?” he asked quietly, almost timidly as he waited for a response.

Nothing.

Bakugo sighed, a small, tired smile playing on his lips

“You fell asleep huh?”

Bakugo playfully rolled his eyes as your quiet demeanor spoke the truth for him.

His hands found themselves placed against your back, wrapping against your body once again so that your legs were around his waist, his arm supporting you as he carried you back to his room.

Maybe in the morning you would remember this...maybe not. He was conflicted- a part of him hope you didn't, so your relationship could resume as normal, but- something in him hoped you remembered. And hoped you wanted to talk more about it- because if you felt the same way and meant it, he wouldn't mind to see if you two could be more than just friends.

He pecked a look at your sleeping form, your smushed face against his shoulder making his heart fill with warmth.

“Shit-if only you knew...I would date you-

“even if your a giggly ass drunk,”

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hurricaneonanesthesia · 4 years ago

Text

Fluff Alphabet (Mammon)

@pzlqpibz said: Please can i have one full alphabet on mammon ? 🥺🥺 Love you, take care of you !!!!!!😚😚😚

Hi! I hope that you don’t mind that i’m tagging you. But anyways here is a full fluff alphabet for tsun tsun baby mammon :)))) ~Admin Hurricane

A - Activities; How do they like to spend time with you?

He likes taking you out to buy stuff despite him not being able to afford a lot of things lol. And if he can, he also likes taking you to his shoots so you can see him going all out with different outfits and such.

B - Beauty; What do they admire/find beautiful about you?

He rlly likes your hair and just playing around with it. He also thinks it’s rlly cute when you’re studying together and your face scrunches up while you try and figure out what the answer is. He’ll just kinda stare at you longingly and then when you catch him, he’ll turn away panicked and blushy lmao.

C - Comfort; How would they help you if you felt down/were having a panic attack?

He’d also panic because at first he wouldn’t quite know what to do, but then he would just pull you into a hug cause he wouldn’t rlly know what else to say.

D - Dreams; How do they picture their future with you?

At first, he thought that it was a one sided thing, so all he could rlly see is you with one of his brothers and not him. But then after you got together, he could see it as something that could work out. Being the avatar of Greed, everything used to be just about him, him, him, but then you came into the picture and all of that was thrown out the window.

E - Equal; Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He gives off dom vibes, but rlly he’s the more passive one lmao

F - Fighting; Would it be easy for them to forgive you? How do you fight?

It would probably be something along the lines of: Mammon: grrrr you idiot human, I’ll never forgive you! *five minutes later* Mammon: nooooo MC come back dont hang out with my stupid brothers.

G - Gratitude; How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what you’re doing for them?

He acts like he isn’t but really, he is, he’ll just never admit it.

H - Honesty; Do they have any secrets that they hide from you? Or do they share everything?

He gets into a lot of trouble with the witches and he doesn’t want to get you involved. But since he’s a terrible liar you still find out anyways.

I - Inspiration; Did you change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You did! You helped him with his relationship with his brothers.

J - Jealousy; Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh boy, he’s a tsundere for a reason lol. If he wasn’t the avatar of Greed, he’d be the avatar of Jealousy lmao.

K - Kiss; Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

I like to imagine that he’s a rlly good kisser dshfbsffdbsh. The first kiss was most likely pretty rushed and a spur of the moment type of thing, where he literally goes “cause i love you idiot,” then proceeds to kiss him.

L - Love Confession; How would they confess to you?

If you’ve seen lesson 20, you know ;)

M - Marriage; Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

At the beginning of your relationship, he’s terrified that you’re gonna leave him cause everyone thinks he’s a scumbag, but then later on he really believes that he wants and will get married to you. He’d probably propose by pulling you into a secluded place away from his brothers, maybe the top of the devildom and then ask the question. And mammon, being mammon would want an extravagant wedding lol

N - Nicknames; What do they call you?

Treasure, baby girl, babe, baby, my human

O - On Cloud Nine; What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s pretty obvious lol, he’s more blushy and clingy than usual. He doesn’t easily express his feelings cause whenever he sees you, he turns into a stuttering blushy mess.

P - PDA; Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Oh man, if he could let the entire Devildom know that you’re going out with him, he would do it. His brothers are tired of him constantly bragging and going “mE AnD mC aRE dATiNG”. But he’s a shy blushy baby about PDA in front of everyone else.

Q - Quirk; Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

I think that mammon would actually be rlly good with kids! He doesn’t seem like it at first but he’s just a big softie for them.

R - Romance; How romantic are they? What would they do to make you happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He doesn’t act all romantic at first, but he’d try his best to make you happy. Something catches your eye? He goes out of his way to go get it for you later.

S - Support; Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s supportive of whatever you want, he believes that you can achieve anything you set your mind to.

T - Thrill; Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He prefers to follow a routine.

U - Understanding; How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

When the two of you start dating, he knows you pretty well. He doesn’t show it but he’s pretty empathetic.

V - Value; How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

This relationship is vvvvvvvvvvvvvv important to him. He’s never had anything like this because he’s constantly being put down by his brothers and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

W - Wild Card; A random Fluff Headcanon.

When the two of you wake up in the morning and you’re trying to get up, he’ll just pull you back unexpectedly and cuddle longer, refusing to let you go.

X - XOXO; Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In public, he’s a blushy baby, but in private be prepared to have this boi be stuck to your side like glue. He won’t let you go. You probably have to initiate the cuddling first tho.

Y - Yearning; How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Oh man, if you’re gone, he sulks a lot and hides out in his room. He’ll probably just lay on top of his bed scrolling through his gallery looking at pictures of you, or you and him.

Z - Zeal; Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

If it’s you, he’s willing to try his best and achieve it, even if he acts like he’s uninterested. He really cares about you and wants to ensure your happiness.

Want more of my writing? Be sure to check out my masterlist :)

If you wanna request something, don’t be afraid to send something my way! Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!

#obey me shall we date #obey me #mammon headcanon #shall we date mammon #mammon obey me #mammon x reader #mammon x you #hurricanethedragon #mammon fluff alphabet

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p---ink · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Contrasts Chapter Five

Author’s Note: This is the last installment, in my Tony Stark Fan-fiction. I loved writing this, but I am also happy to see it come to an end. Please, tell me what you think of this. I can only get better. It means the world to me when I get comments, so let me know how this makes you feel. Also, to my artists out there...I promise I don’t know jackshit about art, so please dont come for my throat. Everything is purely fictional. German speakers, I used google translate, please tell me if anything is off. I love you guys! Thanks for reading!

Summary: Y/N tries to adjust to her life away from Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut. In that order.

Song: I had the song I saw you in a dream by the Japanese House, in mind while writing this.

Word Count: 11.2k

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: The Ends of the Universe

Disclaimer: Picture is not mine.

Berlin, Germany. Pepper Potts sent you to Berlin. Fucking. Germany. While Berlin was breathtakingly beautiful, and to your surprise very diverse, you knew nothing about it. Nothing about the way of life there. Nothing about the people. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. Scared, would still not do your emotions justice. You were in a place you had made no preparations for, as well as no thoughts of ever visiting. But you guessed that was the point.

Tony would never look for you here.

Six months. That’s how long you would be here. Pepper had taken care of everything. The rest of the semester and classes that you were enrolled in before you left, were now moved online. It was that or completing them the next semester. Usually, your university required students complete all prerequisite courses before they took on any internships within their respected fields. So how Ms. Potts got your Dean to agree to such an outlandish change of pace for one of her students, you would never know. What she achieved was unprecedented. That was when you learned quickly to never underestimate her.

Six months. That’s how long you would be away from Tony. Well actually, the idea, as Pepper calls it, is that you two will have moved on from each other by the end of it all. You weren’t even supposed to contact him when your time was up here. In fact, as long as you were in Germany, you were not to contact anyone you knew.

Pepper had assured your family and friends of your well-being ahead of time. No they could not know of your location, nor contact you, but they were ensured that you were safe. It took some heavy convincing on her part to get your family to agree, but ultimately they did. In their eyes, they were supporting what was best for you.

Nao, on the other hand, was not keen on just letting you leave the country. Though your friendship had less than a few days to develop, she became very protective over you. She felt that your leaving was downright bullshit as well as unfair. “Why should Edward fucking Stark, get his happy ending?” She spat. She was also not as willing to trust Pepper as you were. But because you had already made your decision to leave, you entrusted her with the secret of your hidden twitter account. No one, save yourself, knew about it. You agreed that you would regularly tweet from it, as your way of letting her know you were okay. That was the only reason, she didn’t blow the whistle to Tony right away.

Unlike Nao, you had faith in Pepper. You two weren’t the closest, but you had an unspoken respect and trust for one another. Pepper, despite every reason you gave her, did not behave in the way that any other woman in her shoes would have. You had broken her son’s heart by sleeping with his dad, her now ex-husband. Yet here she was, going through all of these hoops for you, just to make sure you didn’t ruin yourself. Of course you trusted her.

There was one thing she was not truthful to you about however. When she told you the internship was all-expense paid, what she really meant was that she was covering all of it. Your school fees, apartment, food, and any and all luxury items, Pepper would be dishing out the money to take care of it all. While you felt you had no control over everything else, you drew the line there. Though you sort of resented her for her speediness to remove you from States, you refused to let her pay for your mistakes. She had already done so much.

Your entire time living with Tony, he never let you pay for anything. This of course meant, you had money saved up from your previous employments. Enough to live comfortably until you could find a job. While Pepper was more understanding than her ex, she still insisted on covering your school fees as well as the first two months on your apartment so that you could focus on school before money became an issue. She even set you up with some extra spending money to get started. “To have a job, on top of an internship, as well as a full course-load, is too much for any student to bear.” She told you. “I will not set you up for failure, just to prove your smug ass Dean right.”

Once you were settled in, and she felt confident enough to depart, Pepper left you and Germany, wishing you the best of luck. She was in a hurry to get back home before Tony could catch a whiff of where you were, and where she had been.

So there you were. In Berlin. All alone, far from home, with no one but yourself to console. That was when the waterworks began. Between Nao’s place and the plane ride here, you didn’t have time to process your emotions. Your life, though not the most morally ideal, went to absolute shit in less than seventy-two hours. You didn’t care who was looking from the outside in calling you ungrateful. You got to experience the world, and your experiences with Tony alone should have satisfied you.

Still, you didn’t ask for any of this. He was all you wanted. You would give up all the luxury in the world, if it meant just being with him. But alas, you did not have that choice, so you decided to cry.

And cried you did. Your first three nights consisted of tears, and headaches. You barely even ate. It didn’t help that Tony’s face was plastered every where. He was famous, so what did you expect? “How the fuck am I supposed to get over him, when I can’t even escape him?” In fairness, you also didn’t make it easy on yourself. A t-shirt of his that you stole, covered your pillowcase. You were scared of the day it’s scent would leave. The new phone that Pepper purchased for you, had his wallpaper on the cover. Of course you later willed yourself to change it, but it took time. You even bought books that he begged you to read for months, just because they reminded you of him. Your entire time in Germany, you were a woman of your word to Nao. You tweeted about him constantly your first three nights, just to feel like your old self again. It was small things that made you feel closer. But small things turned into big ones. You were practically torturing yourself.

Where nights ended in crying, mornings began with half-hearted reassurements. “This is what’s good for me.” You would chant, to yourself in the mirror. “This is what’s good for Tony.” It was now the weekend, and come Monday you would be starting your internship. “The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go home.”

ººººº

Starting your art internship sounded dreadful to you now. Before, you were more than excited as you planned it with Tony. Your eyes were starry when you fawned over how rich the art and culture was in France. Of course you would be excited, given that Tony had taken you to France on numerous occasions, as well as taught you some of the language. You were even comfortable enough to navigate the streets of Paris alone. That was more than you could say about Germany.

When Monday came, and you left your apartment, you got lost almost immediately. Luckily to you, in Berlin more people spoke English than you thought. So your day was off to a bad start but you could still turn it around. That was your train of thought before it began to pour down raining. The cute, but simple little outfit that you had put together was now drenched. Not to mention your hair; tight coils retreated to your scalp, and makeup ran down your face. You had tried. You really did. You wanted the outside of your person, to deflect what you were feeling on the inside. Too bad the universe had other plans.

You were still determined to complete your first day. So you continued on to the location that a kind stranger gave you.

It sounded right, because soon you were standing in front of the soon-to-be art gallery that you would be interning at for the next 6 months. You were to shadow an art-curator, with the hopes of teaching it one day. Sure becoming an art professor wasn’t very fulfilling financially, but you loved art so you didn’t care.

You walked into the magnificent glass structure, with high ceilings and tall windows. Your strides made wet squelching sound, as you stepped from the outside concrete pavement onto the wooden linoleum.

Immediately, a man who seemed to be directing others about the room, turned his attention to you. He almost dropped the clear clipboard he was holding, upon seeing the soaking wet brown girl before him. All he could think of was the damage to the floors you had probably caused.

“Wie kann ich Dir helfen?” He asked you with a grimace painting his features.

If your confidence wasn’t shot before, it was now at a zero as you realized how stupid you must of looked. “I’m sorry I don’t speak German.” You apologized.

The man huffed as he switched languages. “I said, how can I help you?” Now you genuinely felt like an entitled American, in someone else’s country forcing them to accommodate you by speaking your native tongue.

“I’m Y/N, and I am here for the Schmidt Internship.” You said lowly. You watched him bring his attention back to the clipboard in hand, flipping harshly through the paper.

“You’re late. On your first day at that. How could you come in here like this?” His words were harsh, but he was right. You were late, and even if you weren’t your appearance would have sent off red flags in his head.

You had to blink back the water that was forming in your eyes. This was something that you had become an expert at. “I apologize, but I had trouble finding my way here.”

He scoffed “So not only are you coming up with excuses already, but you’re telling me you haven’t even prepared yourself. How are you supposed to retain the necessary knowledge for this job?”

“Again, I’m sorry, but I can assure you that this won’t happen again. ”

“You’re right. So go home.”

Your brows jumped to meet each other. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You clearly don’t have what it takes. My clients will eat you up and spit you out within seconds.” He looked you up and down before adding, “And if they don’t, I will. So go home.” He turned his back to you as if you were nothing, and began redirecting men on where to put certain paintings. Not sparing you a second glance.

Something told you that he was used to making people cry. You almost did, until you realized that you had been crying for the past week, and now you were just angry.

“You can place that Delegado by the window.” You heard him say to two men. You walked up to them to interrupt their conversation.

“Actually place it as far away from the light as possible.” You ordered the men who were holding the piece.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The curator asked.

You could feel his scowl on your face so instead of spinning to address him, you furthered your explanation. “The choice of medium Delgado used is not compatible with the sun. It will certainly drain its vibrancy. But anyone who attended secondary school art would know that.” You sneered, side-eyeing him. Your insult did not fall on deaf ears. His scowl turned into an almost pained expression. You ignored it, and moved on.

You walked around the room, as the curator silently, but obviously followed you. “I assume you intend to place a light fixture over this.” You asked him, looking over your shoulder. “If not, this is the painting you should place next to the window. It will not thrive in the shadows. The artist intended for light to cast on certain areas to reveal hidden figures.” You took your phone out to flash its light against the frame to prove your theory, and almost immediately new elements appeared in the work.

You could almost hear the change in features on the curator’s face. Still you continued your dance around the room, explaining to him pieces of art that worked well with others, and ones that did not.

Going up to your next piece, you inspected it closely. “When did you purchase this” You asked him.

“A few days ago. Why?” He questioned, his tone was now different, almost inviting you to say more. He was now curious about your every word.

“Bankole, the artist this is inspired by has not sold a painting in years.” You informed him.

“I bought it from a secondhand distributor. So what’s your point?”

“You were scammed. The original piece only has seven hooded men. A reoccurring theme in Bankole’s art. This painting only has six.”

“Well maybe Bankole miscounted.” He suggested, chuckling. It was like he was amused, and it was vastly different from his earlier cold demeanor.

“It also has too many etchings along the border.” You continued. “And the signature is misspelled.”

He stayed silent for a minute. He was awestruck. His assistant who had been standing near him, looked up everything you said to fact check you. She whispered a “she passed, sir” in his ear, when she could validate your arguments. And that’s when you realized it was a test.

Upon realizing the whole thing was a set up, you relaxed your bewildered eyebrows, and looked down at your feet to smile a smile that screamed ‘I’ve been tricked’.

The curator, as if scared to take his eyes off of you leaned his head to the side to ask his assistant, “Could you please get Ms.?”

“L/N” You sheepishly smiled, bringing your eyes back up to meet his.

“Yes, could you please get Ms. L/N something to dry off with, Hanna?” He asked the girl, returning a smile back.

“Right away sir.” Hanna spoke, scampering away to search the building’s custodial closet.

He offered his hand to you, and broke the silence. “I’m Finn. Finn Schmidt.”

You took his hand, and shook it gently. “Wait Schmidt? Does that mean you’re—”

“Yes, my family owns this gallery.” He replied as a matter of fact.

You mouthed an inaudible ‘oh’, as you were now embarrassed about your secondary school comment. Thankfully Hanna was back now with a towel to distract you from your growing shame. Changing the subject you asked, “So is it a German thing to be rude and test your future interns?”

He laughed, eyes lingering on your neck as you dried your hair. “Well its a Schmidt thing to test future interns. As for the rude part, I’m sorry. I was just a bit upset about something from earlier.” He confessed. “I promise I would have called you back later to apologize.”

“It’s fine. I did show up late and track your floors with rainwater.” You glanced outside, noticing the sky was now as clear as day. Just my fucking luck, you thought. But at least the new found light gave you a chance to properly examine Finn. The events from earlier, blinded you from realizing how handsome he was.

He was much taller than you. At least more than half a foot. Chestnut brown locks, thrown up into a messy bun, graced the top of his head. He had honey brown eyes upon first glance, but when the sunlight hit them, they were a brilliant amber. He looked to be close in age to you, but still more experienced; so maybe late 20’s early 30’s you concluded. He was built. Not too muscular, but far from skinny. His beard was immaculate. In fact it looked as if he took better care of it, than he did his hair. Both made him look majestic. He had skin of olive, and it was dewy and radiant; you just knew his skin-care routine was more rigorous than yours. When he spoke, it was gruff. His accent was thick, but he spoke English like he lived in a native-english speaking country for years. He was definitely a man who prided himself in his looks as well as his knowledge.

“So tell me, is it an American thing to ogle at complete strangers.” He smirked at you. You immediately thanked God for blessing you with darker skin, for you felt your blood pool to the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, embarrassed and suddenly intrigued by the ground.

“Don’t be. It’s definitely a Schmidt thing.” He informed you, raking his eyes down your figure. Is he flirting with me? You asked yourself.

Now desperate for air, you took in a deep breath to overcome the fluster. “So, um. I’m sorry, just to make sure I’m not getting ahead of myself: your assistant said I passed?”

He cleared his throat, and began rapidly blinking away his daze before speaking. “Yes with flying colors.”

“Does this mean I still have the internship?”

“Yes. I’d be honored to have you. ”

You beamed a bright smile. “Great. Well I hope we enjoy working together.” You stretched your hand out again for him to shake.

“As do I.” He said, grasping your outstretched limb, before bringing your hand to his lips.

Oh boy.

ººººº

It turns out, you two did enjoy working together. Finn, despite your first impression of him, was a major sweetheart, at least to you that is. You didn’t know if that reigned true in other aspects of his life, or if it was just because he wanted to sleep with you. Either way, you welcomed his charming nature.

He became your best friend whilst you were in Germany. He was proud of his country, and very eager to show you why. You were dragged from museum to museum soaking in beautiful art. Landmark to landmark, reveling in famous architecture. Restaurant to restaurant, engorging yourselves with famous German cuisines and desserts. He was elated to finally have someone to boast to about his culture. And you were happy to have someone take your mind off of Tony. Temporarily.

As months passed, you still found your mind drifting off as you wondered about him. You dreamed about him at least every other night. But you would still tell yourself, He’s over me by now. He’s probably happy I’m gone. At least I didn’t ruin his life.

Finn could only do so much. You were close now, so you informed him of a man who had taken over your dreams. He didn’t know who your mystery man was, but he wanted to be him. He wanted to be the one who occupied your mind. He made it clear on numerous occasions too. Spouting to you German phrases that he taught you before hand, revealing his feelings.

‘Ich steh’ auf dich’. I’m into you. ‘Ich bete dich an’, I adore you. The words were beautiful flowing from his lips. But you always feigned ignorance, acting like you forgot what they meant. He could scream his feelings to the sky in your mother tongue, and you would still say something along the lines of “Quit joking around.” Or “You’re so silly.”

You would be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about Finn in that way. He was sexy, and more than willing to replace Tony. And Pepper, if she were there, as well as your friends and your better sense, would have begged for you to fuck him…but alas, you just couldn’t do it.

You two were currently planning the grand opening of his family’s second art gallery. It was tomorrow night, and it took all of five months, most of your internship to get the museum ready for the public. It would be a formal event, where renowned guests were invited to partake in a cultured but light-hearted social gathering. It was going to be grand, which meant Finn was bugging out.

“Lydia, have Hanna approve the guest list for me. I need her to make sure, no strays show up.” He said to one of his staff members. He had a group of people following close beside him as he took long strides to his office.

“Again?” She asked.

“Yes! Again.” He shouted.

She rolled her eyes, before skittering off to find Hanna.

“Luka, have you checked with the caterers to make sure the hors d’oeuvres will arrive by 17:30?”

“Yes sir.” The boy squeaked.

“Check again.” Finn ordered.

“Right away sir.”

“Oliver—” Finn Started.

“The wine has already arrived, sir.” Oliver interjected, feeling quite sure of himself.

“So the Chambertin Grand Cru is here? Great!” Finn began smiling and relaxing a bit.

Confusion took the place of certainty on Oliver’s face. “Actually sir, I thought you told me to get Richebourg Grand Cru.”

“Fuck!” Finn yelled in his native tongue, about to tear a new hole in the smaller boy. That is before you stepped in. You were waiting for him by his door.

“Your guests are coming in for the art Finn. Not the wine, nor the food.”

His expression softened when he heard your voice. “Our guests.” He corrected, smiling at you. “I feel you worked harder than me, so they are our guests.”

“Fine. Our guests do not care about the damn wine.” You smiled.

He chuckled at your playful chide. “You know you keep me sane right? You’re my savior.”

“I thought Jesus was your savior.”

“Well you’re a close second.” He smirked, as he let you enter the room before him. You both sat down in close seats, and ran down a list of things he needed to confirm for tomorrow nights events.

As you two worked, he decided to start a separate conversation. “Have you decided on whether or not you’re coming yet.” His voice was hopeful.

You sighed, knowing you were about to shatter that hope. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I think I’ll pass.”

“Why?” He cried, abandoning his previous tasks.

“I have nothing to wear.” You informed him. “Besides I’m a bit beat. I should relax before my exams come up.”

“But, it’s just one night. And anything you put on will be amazing. It’s the girl in the dress that makes it beautiful.” As he said the last part, he placed a hand on your knee and caressed it.

You stood to your feet to avoid his lingering touches as well as ignore the look of disappointment on his face. “I can’t just show up in any thing. There are way too many important people coming. I would have to make a good impression, and I’m just not up for it.”

Finn abruptly raised now hovering over you and turning your body to face him. “What is this really about?”

“What do you mean?” You asked looking at him through an inquisitive lens.

“We both worked so hard on this. This gallery is practically your baby, don’t you want to see other people enjoy it?” The pads of his thumbs massaged your shoulders. The act was innocent, but to you it burned to have another man touch you in the way that only Tony should.

You shrugged your shoulders to make his arms fall and took a stroll around his desk, placing space between you. “Of course I want to see her success, Finn.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He asked, slowly meeting you on the other side, unsure about his actions now.

You knew what was stopping you. Finn had to practically beg you to go out with him on regular days, and you would eventually do it to rid your mind of Tony; but this was different. Attending this event reminded you of the ones you, Tony, and Edward would participate in.

While you were Edward’s plus one on paper, it was really Tony who you would move through a room with. He would introduce you to some of his friends in high places. You two would have riveting conversations about the world and art. By the end of it all, you would ditch Edward (which wasn’t hard, because he was usually the one to ditch you guys) to sip expensive ass champagne until you passed out the next day in some hotel room you had no memory of entering. This event screamed reminders of your past life. And your past love.

“I don’t know.” You lied. But Finn knew you were lying. He also knew what, or rather who, was stopping you.

He sighed, and gazed at you before speaking again. “Is this about your ex?”

You were curious as to why he asked about Tony when the conversation had nothing to do with him. “Why do you ask me that?”

“Because it always seems to be.” He came to stand directly before you, now more sure of himself.

You could admit your tone of voice changed as you said your next line. “Well it’s not.”

“When are you gonna get over him?” Finn asked, ignoring your words as well as ignoring the defensive tone they were laced in.

“I am over him.” He made you feel small, so you straightened your posture to appear more intimidating, a sharp scowl now decorating your face.

“No you’re not. You’re still depressed about him.” He sounded a bit annoyed now.

“I wouldn’t say I’m depressed…” You cooed, trailing off a bit with your thoughts. Am I depressed? And if I am, do I really wear it for the world to see?

Worry etched itself into your expression, which made Finn say, “You’re too young for this. And you’re too beautiful. You shouldn’t be worried about a guy who isn’t even here.” Finn stated. You thought that what he was saying wasn’t fair, because he didn’t even know the full story. “I can help you get over him.”

He made you blink rapidly at his words. “Woah Finn,” Finn continued his case.

“Just let me take your mind off of him. I promise i’ll be worth it.” he was always forward, but never this forward.

“Finn stop.” He was now closer to you, cornering you between himself and his wall. His office felt much smaller now.

“I like you Y/N, and not just as a friend.” He was now just a breath away, so you threw your arms in between the two of you, only for him to lightly grip your wrists.

“Finn—” You were cut off by his lips, as they stole a soft kiss from yours. You immediately broke the connection by looking down, brushing the area he just touched with your fingertips. Finn looked at you expectantly, face flushing as he realized what he just did. He dropped his hands from their positions on your wrists and stepped back.

“Y/N, I-I’m so, sorr—”

“I’m late for my other job now. I’ll see you Monday.” You hurried out, as you circled around him to leave the room before he could say another word.

ººººº

Your entire shift at your neighborhood cafe, felt like a blur. You chose to work at a cafe for similar reasons to the ones at home: the rustle and bustle of the world made you feel calm, and like your problems were small. But now all you could think about was Finn.

He was right, you were still hung up on Tony. In your defense, five months didn’t seem like enough time for you to move on from a relationship that shifted your entire being. But they did say, to get over one man, you should get under another one. And Finn, was a man that you would have been attracted to under normal circumstances.

He was handsome. Articulate. Cultured. Kind. He was the type of man, who could move a room just by walking in it. But he wasn’t Tony. That fact alone was how you knew you were beat. If you could pass up an amazing man, for one you couldn’t even have, then you were crazy.

He smelled of ginger, and he tasted like cinnamon for those fleeting moments that he held you. You thought to yourself that you could do worse. You weren’t supposed to be with Tony anyway, so what was the harm in being with a man who was begging for you to use him?

The harm was, that you weren’t that kind of a girl. And you didn’t wanna hurt him.

I am making this harder than it needs to be. You thought to yourself, as you walked into your apartment building. Your decision to go to the gallery’s opening became a hell of a lot easier, when your doorman greeted you with a package. You hesitantly thanked him and took the elegant box, before walking up to your flat.

Setting it down on your counter to rid it of its satin pink bow, you freed the top cover and unraveled the tissue paper. Underneath all of the wrapping was a sparkly rose gold material. You pulled it out to reveal a ball gown, that looked as if it was made specifically with a princess in mind. The puffy skirt of the gown had a large slit in it and it was made of a sheer, almost see-through fabric. Glitter ran throughout the entire dress, but where it was most prominent was the bodice. The straps were off the shoulder, and they connected to a deep plunge a few inches below the neckline. It was beautiful.

Your first thought was to anger. The dress looked like it cost him a fortune. You felt obligated to thank him, but you were also mad that he spent money on you as a form of apology. You hated when people just gave you things. It instantly made you feel like a burden.

But then your second thought was one of guilt. Leaving him so quickly, must of made him feel terrible, and that fact helped you swallow your anger. He really liked you, and you could at least show up to the gallery to support him. After all, you were still friends.

You just silently prayed you wouldn’t regret going.

ººººº

Cool air nipped at your bear arms and chest as you made your way through the night. The wind caused cold tears to fall from your eyes, and your fingers felt like icicles. You knew it would be cold tonight as winter transitioned into spring, but you didn’t anticipate it this much. You didn’t have a proper shawl to sit across your shoulders that matched your dress, so you sucked it up and power-walked to the gallery. It definitely felt nice to step into the building’s warm and inviting embrace.You instantly felt your cheeks warm up as you stood in the middle of the entryway.

The event was in full swing by the time you arrived. You were instantly surrounded by laughter, and chatter, as rich people debated amongst themselves about the intent of certain pieces of art. Beautiful melodies filled the air, as classical music played softly in the background. The ambience was warm despite the cold night air peering through the high glass ceilings. You thought it was nice, how even though the building was so well lit, you could still make out the faint glow of stars above you.

Being an observant person who could easily meld into the background, you thought the sight before you was beautiful, and you immediately felt regret grow smaller in the pit of your stomach.

You searched the crowd, trying to seek out Finn and thank him for urging you to come, as well as for the dress. You found him at the top of a balcony, chatting up one of his guests. You swallowed your uneasiness as you made it up in your mind to confront his and your feelings. Maybe I could give him a try because he really is a nice guy. That was your train of thought as you made your way up to him. I could learn to love him. You thought. If it doesn’t work out, I still have home in just a month.

As you got closer, and closer to him, you thought of Tony, and immediately froze in your tracks. You felt guilty for even thinking about someone else before you were over him. You were disappointed in yourself, for your readiness to use one man, in order to get over another one.

You were about to turn around and forget about the entire event, before Finn caught your gaze. He stopped his chat with the man in front of him and excused himself to walk over to you.

You looked like a gapping fish out of water as he approached you. Finn was always so well put together. Seeing him in a tux, only made him appear more intimidating. He somehow made you, with your dress, naturally done makeup, and beautifully pinned up hair, feel small. Little did you know, he felt smaller.

“Y/N” He started, almost at a loss for words. “You look beautiful.”

To save face you forced yourself to speak, opting for the playful banter he had come to love. “Why are you acting so surprised?” You sheepishly smirked.

“Well I didn’t think you were coming.” He beamed. He was relieved to know you weren’t still mad at him.

“I couldn’t just waste this.” You said referring to your dress, grabbing a fistful in each hand to lift it and emphasize your point.

Finn bought his eyes over you, basking in your beauty. “You look darling in that. But I thought you said you didn’t have anything to wear.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, smile faltering. “I didn’t, until you—”

“Finn! Over here darling, I want you to meet someone.” His mother called to him in english, gesturing to a well-dressed attractive woman.

“Okay.” He replied to her before bringing his attention back to you. “Stay right here. Don’t move I mean it.” He floated off, abandoning you and your confusion.

Why was he acting so oblivious?

You felt moments pass as Finn worked himself around the room. You watched him as he drifted from person to person, seemingly forgetting about you. He was in his element, and you were happy to see him happy.

Leaving him to do his own thing, you walked down the stairs deciding to occupy yourself by people watching. That was when your emotions began to overwhelm you again. You leaned against a wall, newfound glass of wine in hand, trying to drown out the noise around you. Everything seemed to remind you of Tony Stark. The rich men in their suits. The stimulating discussions. Even the drink between your fingers, reminded you of him. Now too encapsulated with your thoughts once again, you turned to the wall behind you, immersing yourself into the art. The sad girl in the painting, derided you, as you met her eyes. She was pretty, and like you she felt alone. At least we can be lonely together you thought, scoffing at the idea.

“Why that frown, everyone in here knows you’re prettier than her.” Your heart sank, as you turned to the side meeting the face of the familiar voice.

“Tony?” You exhaled, blinking rapidly as if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

“In the flesh.” He smirked down at you. You threw yourself into his open arms, as he wrapped himself around you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, then your temple, as you inhaled his scent; it had been such a long time since you had even done that. Your drink spilled on the floor behind you, and the look of shock you received from a nearby stranger made you feel deranged. It didn’t matter, how crazy you looked, Tony was here and that was all you could care about.

Pulling back from his embrace, you felt your words form at the back of your throat unable to bring them out. “What are you doing here?” You managed to ask.

“You know I could ask you the same. Berlin? Was all that French I taught you, for nothing?” He joked, holding you in place.

You were becoming blurry-eyed. You terribly missed his wittiness. “How did you find me?” Though you were happy, you couldn’t help the tears that streamed down your face.

Tony wiped them away with the pads of his thumb, “First. Dance with me.” He reached a hand between the two of you, willing you to take it.

“This isn’t that kind of an event Tony.” You chuckled.

“Who cares? I need to hold you.” His words made you tear up again. You soon became a sobbing mess, and those around you shot him dirty looks for making you cry.

“Princess.” Tony cooed, sending apologetic nods to random people as he tried to comfort you. “You’re making a scene.”

You ignored him, and kept silently whimpering, gradually growing a bit louder, as your face contorted further into a frown. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Still crying you began dry-heaving as you chocked between sobs. “Alles ist gut.” Tony assured strangers, informing them that all was well.

“You know German?” You squeaked between sobs.

“When I found out you were in Germany, I learned a bit on the plane ride here.” He grabbed a napkin from a passing by waiter, as he told you this.

“So you learned German for me?” You sobbed louder, causing more people to look over.

“Y/N, baby please stop crying.” Tony pleaded. “Please stop."

You sniffled and began wiping your eyes, smearing your mascara in the process. He used his napkin to wipe away the excess mess on your face. “Now can we please try this again?” He asked holding his hand out. You took it, and he lead you to the center of the room.

Now the attention was as a result of the spectacle in front of them. First a girl practically pours her expensive wine on the ground. Then starts crying. And now she and her beaux are dancing in the middle of the gallery. How unhinged you must of looked in the eyes of a stranger.

Tony couldn’t be more in love with you. He held you close, one hand clasped with yours, the other resting on your lower back as he gazed into your eyes, mesmerized by your existence. You two swayed back and forth, ignoring the judgmental stares and whispers. Eventually others gained the courage to join in, inspired by the silly Americans of the room.

He broke the comfortable silence first. “I see you like the dress. You make it look beautiful.”

“You bought this for me?” You exclaimed smiling. It made sense now, how else would the measurements be so perfect?

“Of course I did. Who else would?” He asked with a single raised brow, his signature “you better tell me, or you’re in trouble” expression.

“Mmh, hmm, Mmh.” You mumbled shrugging your shoulders upwards. Of course that was a lie, but you would tell him later.

He decided to address your lie later as well. He changed the subject for now. “So why Berlin? Why not London, or Italy? Italy was you second choice, you loved Italy!”

You giggled at the amount of times he said Italy. He bathed in the sound. “Germany was the first place Pepper could arrange on such short notice. Besides, we thought you would never think of looking here.”

“I would search the ends of the universe for you.” He said, face and tone all of a sudden serious. You inspected him for a minute, heat rising to your cheeks, before you both cracked a smile.

“You’re so fucking cheesy.” You laughed.

“I thought you loved it when I act cheesy.” He expressed, mocking fake hurt.

You smiled and kissed his chin, ignoring his dramatics, opting to be enveloped by the silence. You were calmed as he rocked you in his arms, pulling you as close as he could. His large warm hand on your exposed lower back felt like home. You two fit together like puzzle pieces, and you were happier now than you were the first time you kissed. Now you weren’t in secret. You were out in the open, as you experienced a new first in your relationship.

You broke the silence this time, as you laid your head on his chest. “So how did you find me?”

“Tonysbitch99 Y/N? Come on, I’m a fucking genius, and I’m not exaggerating. Your last tweet led me here”

Your head shot up so you could question him. “Wait. So you went out on a fucking whim?”

He laughed at your outburst. "Well actually a blue-haired girl encouraged me to check your twitter account. I found your hidden one on your old phone. That led me to your apartment.”

“Nao.” You said in a low menacing tone. You had some words for her as soon as you got back home. But when you thought of home, your mind wandered back to the obstacles in your way. Being so happy to see him, you forgot about Edward. “Tony” You sighed. “You can’t be here. Edward will find out. And you could lose everything you worked for. Your dreams have to mean something to you.”

“They do. You’re one of them Y/N.” He always had a way with words, and just as you were about to protest he cut you off. “I won’t go into details about it, but everything is fine. You can even contact both Edward and Pepper if you don’t believe me.”

You believed him. The fact that he involved Pepper’s name encouraged you to. “Enough about me though. You seem to have been keeping yourself busy.” He whispered against the shell of your ear.

“What do you mean?” You asked, flustered by his action. He suddenly, but slowly dipped you so that you could focus on where his line of sight was. Your eyes met Finn, who was busying himself with guests, as well as stealing glances at the two of you. As you focused on him, Tony peppered kisses along the heart of your exposed bosom. The gesture forced you to shoot up out of embarrassment. You knew he was marking his territory, but you immediately scolded him.

“Who is he?” He asked you, ignoring your tiny hits and reprimands. Once you calmed down, you told him about Finn. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of us, or should I say you, since my being here.”

You averted your gaze from Tony, and he immediately knew you were hiding something from him. He pestered you, until you told him about Finn’s crush, as well as the shared kiss. By the end of it all, he was sending death glares his way.

“You should introduce us.” Tony suggested, gravitating towards Finn, before you held him taught.

“Calm yourself.”

“What did you say his name was again? Finn?” He asked, but he already knew the answer to his own question. “Finn. Finn. Finn.” He repeats, as if the name felt like a bad aftertaste on his tongue. “You know what? I like it. No, I really do, it fits him, because he looks like a fucking fish.” He spat.

You grinned and asked, “You’re not jealous are you Tony?”

“And what would I have to be jealous of? Did you not hear me say fish?” He questioned.

“He’s a sweetheart. Come on, let me introduce you.” You were about to take his hand to meet Finn, but were surprised to see that he was already making his way over to the two of you.

“Y/N, who might this be?” Finn asked reaching out to shake his hand. He knew who Tony was, most people did, but this was Finn’s way of acting as if he himself was more important.

“Tony Stark” Tony interjected, acknowledging the outreached hand, but blatantly refusing to shake it.

Finn dropped his hand, before speaking again, smile now twitching. “Nice to meet you Mr. Stark. I’m Finn Schmidt.”

“Well that’s rather unfortunate.” Tony mumbled, loud enough for the both of you to hear.

“Tony!” You chided, slapping his arm.

“What?!” Tony cried. “You heard him say his last name was Shit, right?”

“He said Schmidt.” He knew that. Tony ignored the glare on your face that demanded he apologize.

The sound of laughter rang in your ears, as you both snapped your necks towards it. Finn must of thought he was funny. “Y/N, your grandfather is hilarious.” Finn said, now deadpanning at Tony.

Tony looked down at his hands, then at your brown ones, then back up to question the handsome boy. “Do I look like her fuc—”

“You’re right Finn. My boyfriend is pretty funny.” You say, examining his face with a small smile. Your comment shocked both him and Tony. He was happy that you could finally call him that.

“Now,” you continued. “I’m a bit tired from these past few weeks. I think I’m going to call it a night. Enjoy your evening Finn. I’ll see you Monday.” You smiled, as you tugged Tony away.

“Goodnight Fish Shit,” Tony smirked over his shoulder, as you dragged him towards the door.

“It’s Finn Schmidt, you idiot.” You corrected, sending an apologetic nod back to your friend.

“What did I say?”

ººººº

Pushing the door open to your apartment, you unstrapped your shoes to place them next to the door, urging Tony to do the same. You threw your keys in a dish, and turned to him to whisper your intentions to go and slip into something more comfortable. He stared at you with a small smile as his response, dark eyes searching yours, while his remained unreadable. The dim light from the kitchen, illuminated his face, making it look intimidatingly beautiful. Or was hauntingly the word?

You suddenly felt nervous, realizing that this was the first time in months since you had been alone together. Handing him back the coat he let you borrow for the walk here, you cleared your throat, and averted your gaze before excusing yourself from the room. Tony relished in the fact that he had reverted you back to your first stage of innocence.

Upon your exit, he took a slow stroll around the room. He was careful to take in all that he had missed. Curious of how much you had changed, and how much you stayed the same.

Accents of your favorite color were spread throughout the room. You had an open kitchen, and the living room was right across from it. They were both tidied to perfection. You had sleek wooden floors, that looked like they had never been stepped on. Furniture, that looked like it had never been sat on. A stove, that looked like it had never been turned on. Your place was nice, but he could tell you were rarely home.

The walk here, you told him of your job on top of your internship, and school.You didn’t complain about it. In fact, you appreciated the chaos, and constant busyness. But he hated that you worked like a dog just to make ends meet. There was now all this time he would have to make up for, by spoiling you.

He bent over to examine the books on your shelves. Some were new. Some that he had suggested. But what he searched for were the ones you would spend your summers rereading, as if the words would leave the page; desperate to memorize every letter.

He moved on, now curious about your smart TV. What new shows were you watching? Did you still love the ones he remembered to be your favorite, or did new ones take their place?

He picked up the candle on your coffee table. The scent of honeysuckle assaulted his senses. It was much different from your usual vanilla. He sat it down to continue his journey to your kitchen.

He raided your pantry, your cupboards, and your fridge to see if you had been taking care of yourself. The contents were scarce, and he had to remind himself to scold you later.

“Are you hungry?” You asked smiling, grasping the hallway’s entry frame. You were wearing an oversized ash gray shirt whose front was tucked into a pair of frilly pink shorts. Your previously pinned hair now fallen was framing your cheeks, as stray pieces were pushed behind your ears. You removed all of your ruined makeup, and the result left a sheen of dew on the surface of your skin. If he thought you looked surreal at the gallery, ethereal was the word he’d use now due to your natural glowing state.

“Yes” He replied. But he was getting full off of your appearance alone. There was no need for useless human sustenance. The way you looked was enough.

You came into full view, grabbing a glass from your cupboards to pour yourself some water. “Well I’m afraid you’re not gonna find anything here.” You took a sip, offering him some. “But it’s not too late. There are still restaurants open.”

He reached for the glass in your hand, but instead of taking it, he placed his hand over yours to make you feed him sips of water. He eyed you over the rim of the glass before setting it down to say, “I’m full now.”

You swallowed hard, walking to sit on a stool on the other side of the island. Tony fell backwards directly in front of you, letting the cabinets behind him catch him. He drank you in with his eyes, as you felt yourself shrinking under his scrutiny.

“What?” You questioned, shy from his gaze. He said nothing, and just watched you.

After a moment of playing the staring game, you tried to break the silence again. You looked down at the shirt you were wearing to spark a conversation. “I’m sorry I stole your shirt. I needed something to remind me of you. I hope you didn’t miss it too much.”

“The only thing that I missed, was you.” He said after minutes of deafening silence. Is he mad?

Looking down out of guilt you told him, “Well I’m here now. Tell me how you’ve been.”

He felt like your question was a loaded one. Not once did he think about himself while you were gone. He was constantly thinking of you. I’ve been lost. He wanted to say. I’ve been hopeless. I felt helpless not knowing where you were. Not knowing if you were okay. So many things were on the tip of his tongue, but instead he settled for “Let’s just say, I’ve missed you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” You were genuinely curious about how his life was without you. But Tony looked like he didn’t want to explore the subject further.

“That’s how I feel.” He declared, drifting slowly towards you.

You decided to continue talking in order to fill the awkwardness. “Well its obviously how I feel too, but I wanna know how you’ve been holding up.” You ignored his sudden closeness. “Could you at least tell me how every one is? You mentioned Nao had blue hair? It was pink when we met.” Tony stood silent by your side as you asked your questions. “How’s Samuel? And Pepper?”As you rambled on and on, he traveled behind your stool, placing his hands on the chairs bars. His scent began to envelope you, and thats when your rambles became incoherent. If you weren’t already nervous before, you definitely were now.

He picked up on it, like he usually does, and asked “Am I making you uncomfortable?” in a hushed tone. You felt his breath fan the back of your neck, goosebumps formed on the little parts that were exposed. Your thighs clenched together, as you were suddenly turned on by how he made you feel both small and secure at the same time.

He grabbed your chin, lifting your neck upwards and to the side, just before he placed a soft kiss on your lips, the first kiss since your reunion. It was so soft, you felt that he was afraid you might break; or as if you were only a part to a vivid dream. Deepening his touch, he let the fingers that were lifting your chin, trail down the line of your neck. Soft fingertips brushed against your skin, until they collectively found a loose position around your throat. He let his thumb explore your jaw, while his tongue explored your mouth. Soft lips quickly turned into rough ones, as they fought to release every frustration and emotion he felt for the past five months.

When he pulled away, he had the nerve to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, as if he hadn’t just tongue-fucked your face a moment ago. “Sorry.” He apologized, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” He then walked back to his position by the counter, as if nothing happened, turned to you and asked “So what was your question again?” Innocence and genuine curiosity etched his features, like the lust, from a moment ago, never existed.

Quickly overcoming your fit of fluster, you hesitantly stood to your feet. Tony never took his almond brown eyes off of you, as you seductively sauntered over to him. You had an idea. It was one you rarely thought of. One you never acted on; but if your time in Germany taught you something, it was to go for what you wanted.

Now standing directly in front of him, doe eyes boring into his, he shut them as you placed your hands against his chest, leaning in for a kiss. Much like his, it was soft. A feather like touch against his mouth. You barely pulled back to whisper, “follow me” against his lips. His eyes fluttered open just in time to see you retreating down the hall.

It was now his turn to become flustered, as he felt himself growing hot. He gave himself a moment to cool down, before taking his time walking down the hallway. As he poked his head in every room, just before he came to the last one, he found you sitting comfortably on your bed, stripped down to nothing but your bra and panties. Your elbows were propped up holding your weight, and your leg was crossed against your other as you patiently waited for him to enter the room. Your head was tilted as a seductive smile played on your features.

Tony returned the expression, and he was about to dive into you, until you raised your hand to halt his actions. “Take off your shirt.” You ordered.

“Excuse me?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in amusement.

“You heard me.” You dared. Though your tone was soft, he knew you meant business. He searched your eyes for a moment, not finding his usual hint of submissiveness. So he decided to humor you. He leisurely unbuttoned his cuffs, glancing up at you every now and then. Then he took his time loosening his bowtie, dragging it off of his collar. He went painfully slow as he unbuttoned his bib, leering in your direction as he did so. Making you wait is what would usually break your spirit, and it was his favorite game. But you had learned patience while in Germany, so tonight was your night. You uncrossed your legs and raised to your feet, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to roughly pull him into a kiss. This one was more feverish than the one shared in your kitchen, and it caught him by surprise since he was usually the one to take control.

You switched your standing positions with him so that you were now the one facing the bed. As you deepened your kiss, he got pushed further back, until his knees collided with the mattress. You stood between his legs surveying his cherry swollen lips, before you reconnected your mouthes.

You laced your fingers in his hair, breaking your kiss, to harshly tug his head upwards. The guttural groan that escaped his throat, left an ache between your legs, while liquid pooled to the center of your panties.

With the newly exposed skin of his neck, you stuck your tongue out to lick a slow stripe from his adam’s apple to his jaw, eliciting a string of curses from Tony. You then placed wet kisses down from there to his abs, kneeling to face his crotch.

The prominent bulge, made your eyes widen with anticipation, and mouth salivate from thirst. You fell to your knees, licking your lips, fingers now fumbling with the buckle of his belt. Tony grasped your chin, lifting it to meet your eyes. “Y/N, I don’t want you to think you have to do this.”

You smiled at him, assuring him that you wanted to, kissing his fingers before going back to your previous tasks. He tensed up when you placed your hand on his thigh, just as the other worked to release his cock. The veiny appendage sprung free, and its size still intimidated you as you struggled to fit it in your tiny hands. Still, you were determined to make him feel good.

You wrapped your hand around it, holding his drunken gaze, before stroking him up and down. You placed chaste kisses along the base, until you reached his crown. When you swirled your tongue around his head, Tony’s dick bucked in your hands, and his large palm shot up to tangle in your hair, urging you to suck. You swatted his hands away, and fixed him with a stare, silently telling him you’d stop if he didn’t let you have this. When confident that he learned his place, you wrapped your lips around his tip, lowering yourself further down his shaft, twisting the parts you couldn’t fit (which was still a lot.) He was a moaning mess, when his dick hit the back of your throat. You bobbed your head up and down his length, mewling when you made him groan. The vibrations from your moans, sent jolts of electricity up his spine, and he struggled to contain himself.

Gagging against him, you shot back gasping for air, only a string of spit connecting you. After six more motions like that, Tony shot three thick ropes of cum down your throat. The sound he let out as he came, made the area between your thighs slick.

He usually spewed words of encouragement when you gave him head. “Just like that” or “Suck daddy’s cock” filled your ears as you worked him through his orgasm. But to see him come completely undone, unable to form a sentence, let alone control the situation, had you feeling more than satisfied. His head was thrown back surveying the ceiling before he bought his attention back to you. His face was a soft shade of pink, and sweat covered his forehead; it worked like glue, as pieces of disheveled hair stuck to it. “Who taught you how to do that?” He asked between breaths.

“Finn.” You joked, but as soon as you said it, Tony grabbed your arm to yank you to your feet. He grabbed the nape of your neck to pull you closer to his face.

“I know you’re just kidding sweetheart, but I don’t find that funny.” He rasped in a low tone. The grip he had on your neck caused you to whimper, but you didn’t mind the sting. It only riled you up.

You stepped back from his embrace, to undo your bra, just for him to yank you back in once it was off. He began kissing between your sternum, dangerously close to the mounds of your breasts. You chuckled at the feeling of his facial hair tickling your skin, but then your giggles turned into moans as his beard created delicious burns across your surface. He reached his hands down to your waist ridding you of your panties. Once you stepped out of them, you pushed him backwards on the bed, to crawl over him placing both thighs on each side of his.

He bit his bottom lip at the sight of you, eyes burning with desire, and hands trailing from your thighs to your waist. You grabbed his dick, brushing it against your lips, before slowly guiding it to your entrance. As you sunk down on him, he sucked in air harshly, while you yourself let out a gasp of pain.

“You still fit like a glove, baby.” He moaned out, glowered at you through hooded eyes. His hands tightened their grips around your waist to help you ease yourself onto him.

A pained gasp erupted through your chest; the farther you sunk down on him, the further you stretched out. Pleasure began to burn in your loins when you met his end. You threw your head back and planted your palms against his chest, rocking and grinding on his cock at a painfully slow pace. Your clit grazed his base as you did so, encouraging you to pick up your speed. His hands that were previously on your waist, crept up your front to fondle your breasts. You grabbed his wrists to help lift yourself up and down his shaft.

The faster you bucked against him, the closer you came to meet your edge. He found his words of encouragement, when he heard your lusty pants of pleasure. “Such a pretty girl.” He praised. “Look at you go.” He whispered. He watched sweat form against your cupids bow, and your expression contort further into one of pleasure.

Your pace began to falter which is when he placed an arm around your back to sit the two of you up. Using the edge of the bed, he met your hips with his own, fucking into you at a new angle. His pace was faster, and more accurate than your own, which meant with each thrust he his your g-spot head on. His grunts and your pants echoed off of the walls as he sent you barreling towards your orgasm. You shut your eyes, letting the ecstasy hit, as you panted his name, over and over again.

Letting the pleasure wash over you, you came to a complete stop, your moans sending vibrations through Tony’s chest. He didn’t stop though, his thrusts were relentless, as he tried his hardest to bury into you. “Keep going.” He ordered you.

“I can’t daddy.” You whimpered, already fucked out, when you barely even started.

“Yes you can.” He simply said, forcing you to sit up straight. You straddled his lap, met his eyes, and placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, trying to will yourself up and down, but your hips just wouldn’t let you. By this time, he stopped completely as well, to catch his breath.

You laid your head in the crook of his neck, defeated. “I’m sorry.” You exhaled into his skin.

He lifted your head to cup your chin. When his eyes met yours, he pecked your lips before saying, “It’s okay princess. You did so well…but now it’s daddy’s turn.”

With that, he picked you up and wrapped your legs around him to place you at the top of the bed. He got rid of the rest of his clothes before he crawled back into bed, sinking into you again. You both let out groans at the feeling of his fullness.

Tony threw nice and slow out the window, and immediately began drilling into you. Your moans turned into deafening screams as his hips bruised your pelvis. He pried your legs open, placing quick kisses along your neck as he did so, knowing it would drive you up the wall as well as comfort you. He bit and sucked harshly along your collar bone, sending your mind into a blissful haze. Your hands shot up to his back, clawing at the flesh. You left blood in your wake, as you raked your hands down the skin. He let out a growl at the feeling, thrusting harder into you as a result.

Your second orgasm arrived quicker than your first, but the feeling was more intense. He left you writhing, and shaking on him, as ripples of pleasure coursed through your body. Giving you a minute to collect yourself he flipped you over, before saying, “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”

A look of alarm spread on your features, when you looked behind you to see him lining himself up yet again. “Tony I don’t think I can cum again.” You whimpered.

“Awe, I thought you were a big girl.” He teased, smirking as revenge for earlier. While he loved the way you look on top, it obviously hurt his dominating spirit when you took his control. He leaned down, grabbing the side of your face to better access your ear. You felt his hot breath fan the side of your cheek as he whispered, “You’re gonna take all of me, until I fill you up with my cum.” Then he let you go, causing you to fall forward.

You were so turned on it didn’t make sense. You just had three orgasms rip through you, yet your pussy was begging for more.

He slammed into you for a final time, this position trumping them all. He gripped your hips, locking in on you, giving you no chance of escape. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t try. You climbed to the top of the bed, trying to put a bit of space between yourself and Tony’s strokes, but he just pulled you back in, fucking you harder than before.

Tears welled up in your eyes. The intensity was becoming entirely too much. Your nipples brushed your bedsheets the harder he fucked you into them. His balls slapped against your clit, every time he met your hips. And his grunts of pleasure from using you, sent you toppling over the edge for a third time. The stimulation sending you into a convulsing fit. You squirted against him, covering his member with your sticky wet cream. Luckily for you, he followed shortly after, coating your walls with his thick white seed.

When you collapsed, he rolled to the other side of you, both of you breathing heavier than before. When he caught his breath, you turned over to drape your naked body onto his.

“Was I too rough” He asked, suddenly feeling like he went overboard.

“Absolutely not.” You giggled. “Please do that to me all the time.”

He smiled in response burying his nose in your hair. The smell of coconut immediately comforting him. “I love you Y/N.” He cooed.

You lifted your head from his chest to kiss him sweetly. “I love you too, Tony.” That was the last thing you both said, before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Whether your relationship lasted a lifetime, or ended in a year, in this moment you were happy. Happy that you no longer had to hide from the world. Happy that he was finally in your arms again. Happy to want someone, who wanted you even more.

Happy to exist at the same time as him.

A/N: Please do not repost my work as your own. Comments, likes, and reblogs are encouraged. I love you all, and really hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading :)

#tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark au #black reader #tony stark angst

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girlsluvbot · 5 years ago

Text

MATCHMAKER pt.1

pairing: roseanne park × fem! reader

genre: fluff, angst

about:

matchmaker /ˈmatʃmeɪkə/

noun

a person who arranges marriages or initiates romantic relationships between others.

"an enthusiastic matchmaker who continually tried to pair off the difficult bachelor with unattached ladies"

a/n: i'm back!!! hehe this goddamn thing took so long to write, i both despise and adore it with every fibre of my being. enjoy my blood, sweat and tears in the form of a fic.

You loved your job. Very few people are lucky enough to be able to relate to that statement, and you were thankfully one of them. Hell, not only did you love your job, you were extremely good at it.

Since you were a little kid, writing nas always been your biggest passion. Wether it was writing short stories, poems or essays about the french revolution, you were always happy when you were able to put your feelings and thoughts onto paper. This was the main reason why you became the manager of your local newspaper during middle school, high school and eventually even university.

You've won multiple writing contests and even people who had no idea what your name was knew one thing about you: you were an amazing writer.

Years of practice, your impeccable set of skills and a recommendation letter from your university professor secured you a job at Vogue almost immediately. After all this hard work, you finally achieved everything you were looking for. You were truly happy.

Until this very moment.

"Well, I don't know," the woman sitting in front of you made a disgusted grimace, "it just lacks any emotion whatsoever. I've quite literally never read something so stiff and akward."

And here they were. The first words of criticism you have ever recieved. You were so used to everyone praising your work, you didn't know how to react or respond.

Three months ago, you would have never gotten into a similar situation: simply because there was nothing about your work to critize. But a lot has changed in the past few weeks, and not exactly in the good kind of way.

When you first joined Vogue, you were the head editor and journalist of the spread dedicated almost entirely to interviews. Thats what you did, talked to celebrities and wrote about them. And that's what you were good at, almost too good.

Just a year after working in the magazine you got promoted. You were still the head editor, but now of a completely different part of the journal: one dedicated to a single topic. Love. This was bad news, very bad news.

Why, you ask? The reason was fairly simple but no less embarrassing. Even as the head editor of a spread all about love, you've never experienced it yourself. In other words, you've never been in love. And how are you supposed to write about something you know nothing about?

Your boss looks at you and shakes her head. She reaches for the stack of papers on the table in front of her and starts reading, "For example; 'His lips brushed against mine. They were soft. The kiss was short but sweet. I loved it.' What the actual heck? I kiss my cat more passionately than this." she took off her glasses and started massaging the crook of her nose.

"Listen, Y/N, I've read your previous pieces and they were simply wonderful. But this? I don't even know what else to say without hurting your feelings."

"I'm so sorry. I know, it's just that I dont have much experience in said area." you don't finish the sentence, hoping she somehow gets the memo. She doesn't.

"What area?"

"Love. I dont have much experience with love." you blurt out the words that have been on your mind nonstop since the day of your promotion.

"Oh, you poor thing" she leans back in her chair, her eyes scanning your every move, "Isn't that unfortunate."

You nod your head slowly, trying not to get offended at her words full of pity.

"How are you supposed to write romance stories then? This won't work." the woman grabs a post-it note

"Are," your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, "Are you firing me?"

"Are you crazy? Of course I'm not," she hands you the piece of paper with a phone number, "We just have to improvise for the time being. Do you know Roseanne Park? She's the manager of our Matchmaker spread. You can be her assistant for the next few months, help her around, learn a thing or two. Hopefully your writing wont be so...bland after."

To be completely honest, you didn't handle changes well. Maybe that's why you were standing in front of your new, and hopefully temporary, bosses office, trying to build up the courage to knock on her door.

One of the reasons why you were so nervous was that Roseanne Park, the manager of the Vogue Matchmaker was insanely attractive. Admittedly, you did some online stalking the night before- okay, a lot of it. Here's the thing; you were a planner. Whether it came to your career, writing or even relationships, you liked to beprepared.

That's why after a few hours spent on the internet, you knew everything. The name of her sister (Alice Park), if the had a pet (yes, a fish named Joohwangie) and who her favorite band was (The 1975).

You weren't usually like this, so head over heels for a girl you haven't even met. But your writing, the reason you were here in the first place, didn't usually suck so after all, some things really do change easily.

Just as you reached for the dark wooden door in front of you, it opened before your hand could even touch it's sleek surface.

"Oh!" the tall woman stopped in her tracks. Thanks to your thorough internet digging, you instantly recognized her. Roseanne Park. Your new boss. A 'matchmaker' if you will.

"You must be Y/N! I've heard that you're going to be my assistant for a bit." your cheeks heated up for no apparent reason. Did she know the reason why you got transferred here so quickly? Every molecule in your body wished and prayed to every possible god out there that she didn't.

"Yeah, that's me!" you finally composed yourself enough to speak, but that didn't mean your voice didn't sound like one of a twelve year old boy going through puberty- high pitched and squeaky.

You examined her face more in depth, and realized quite a few things:

She was somehow even prettier in real life. How? you had no idea. Some people just really won the genetics lottery, you thought.

Her hair was red. Like undeniably, undoubtedly red. In all of the pictures you found yesterday it was either brown or black, so this change caught you off guard. You couldn't complain though, because this girl looked like a hotter version of Ariel with a much better sense in fashion (and music).

"Have you been standing out here for too long?"

"Oh no, I just arrived." lying has never been so easy.

"Great! I'm gonna go downstairs to grab a package but you can look around the office while I'm gone," she opened the door a bit to let you walk in.

You did as she told you and entered the room. The door closed behind you without you noticing, the only thing you could focus on was this girl's office. It looked just like you would imagine heaven to look like- full of light, white furniture and expensive looking leather couches.

There were pictures everywhere: a dozen of four young girls (one of them being Roseanne), a few more of her with famous celebrities and one of a familiar looking face- her sister.

You carefully walked towards the table in the middle of the room, not wanting to damage anything. You noticed quite a bit of unexpected clutter, and above everything a print of the brand new Vogue issue. A woman on the cover flashed you a beautiful smile as you picked it up. The headline stated: Kim Jisoo talks acting, NYFW and love.

You flipped the glossy magazine pages to find the spread dedicated to said interview and noticed just what you were looking for: the author of the article. The credits at the bottom of the page revealed a nice surprise- Author; Roseanne Park.

"Well what do you think? Is it a good article?" your soul almost left your body when you realized who was standing next to you. You quickly put the magazine down, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to touch your stuff. I just saw the cover and..."

"Oh my gosh, are you kidding? That's completely okay, I don't mind." she pointed to the journal, "That interview is actually one of the favorite pieces I ever wrote, and not just because it's about Jisoo. Plus, my friend took the pictures, so it was extra fun." She opened the spread again and pointed to a name credited right next to hers, Photographer; Lalisa Manoban.

"Oh wow. I've seen her pictures before, they're really good. I with I could take photos like that. Seriously."

Here's one thing to note: when you're nervous, you ramble. Like a lot. Some people would say its better than staying silent, but let's be honest- it's like stepping into a puddle instead of mud. Not a disaster, but there's still plenty to complain about.

Thankfully, Roseanne only giggled, "I know exactly what you mean. I hope you'll get to work with her someday."

You both stared at the magazine spread for a second before Roseanne broke the silence.

"But now, let's get to bussines. Sit down please, this might take a while," she pointed tkwards one of the leather couches you noticed earlier and took a seat at the other side of the table.

"So, as you probably already know, my name is Roseanne Park. As a manager of Matchmaker, my job is to read these letters," she grabben a handful of papers for emphasis, "and respond to them, give advixe basically. The title 'Matchmaker' comes from the fact that the majority of the letters talk about love. Any questions so far?"

When you shook your head no, she continued, "As my assistant, your job is fairly simple. You're going to sort and read through the hundreds of letters I recieve weekly and pick the most interesting ones for me to feature. And occasionally, you might accompany me to a few interviews. Sounds good?"

You slowly nodded, processing all the new information. Letters, answers, interviews and a hot boss. That doesn't sound so bad.

"Great. So Y/N," she suddenly stood up, "Would you mind going with me to Subway? I'm starving."

By the time you were finished with lunch, you had a new point to add to your list of realizations about your new boss:

She loves food, and by loves I mean LOVES.

The moment you arrived at the restaurant, food was the only thing she would talk about. She told you about what she had for dinner and breakfast, what kind of snacks she hid in the office and what kind of salad she was getting alongside a baguette.

After she actually managed to get a bit of calories into her system (thanks to a foot-long chicken turkey sandwich) the conversation finally got more interesting.

Don't get me wrong, you could listen to this girl talk for hours, no matter the topic. But after listening to a thirty minute long monologue about why pineapple pizza is the best thing ever invented, even you have reached your limit.

"So," you start, in an effort to break the ice, "how long have you been working at Vogue?"

She squints at the toast in front of her, trying to remember, "About five years? Yeah, it's gonna be five years in May."

"Oh wow, that's impressive."

She tilts her head, "Is it? I mean, when you work as often as I do, time just goes by. I don't even remember the last time I went out with my friends to discuss something that wasn't work related."

You pout, regretting the choice to ask her about work.

"But at the same time, I love what I do so I can't really complain. What about you though? Why did you decide to become a journalist?"

"Oh, I started just a year ago. And I studied literature, so I guess becoming a journalist made sense."

"Why did you study literature then? There's so many other better paying jobs out there."

"I don't think anyone works in such a field for money, that's for sure," you try to lighten the atmosphere, "Well, my mom wanted to become a writer, but she got pregnant before she could finish her book and she's been pretty much busy ever since. I guess her love for books kind of rubbed off on me."

Roseanne nods, to let you know she's listening. "I'm glad you and your mom have such an important aspect of your lives in common. My mother wanted me to become a lawyer, I doubt she's ever read even a single fiction book in her entire life."

"What does she think about your job now?"

Her lips tighten and she crosses her arms. "I don't know. I haven't talked to her since," her eyes seem empty, their signature spark gone. You can tell you struck a nerve. "I haven't talked to her since I moved out."

"Well, I'm sure that she's proud of you," you can't help but add.

Rosie lets out a dry laugh, "You don't know my mother then," she slowly pushes her plate away, "I think I'm full so I'm gonna head back to the office."

Sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut. You learned this the hard way.

You head back after your lunch break ends, alone. Even though Roseanne walked you through everything she expects you to help around with, you know that your job doesn't start and end with sorting through letters.

You softly knock on the office door before heading in. She's already sitting there, behind her desk. Without looking up from her laptop, she scoffs, "You're late."

"It's just five minutes," you shrug, not taking her tone seriously. Finally, she raises her sight to meet yours. Even without her saying anything, you understand. Do not play around with fire.

You mumble an apology and quickly run to the small hallway at the other side of the room which leads to your own (significantly smaller) office.

"What makes you think I'm done?" Turning around, you notice that her eyes are piercing through your back. Unsure of what she expects you to do, you walk back in front of her.

"While you were out there doing god knows what for two hours," you resist the urge to roll your eyes, "I already did your job and sorted through the letters. You're welcome."

She walks around the table and pushes a thick stack of papers against your chest, "That means you'll be doing my job and write replies to them. Can you handle that?"

You try not to show her how terrified you are. You? Giving relationship advice? Sounds like a recipe for a royal disaster. Instead, you rise your chin and smile, "Yes ma'am."

She visibly winces at the formal title, but still nods and returns to her seat. You take this as a sign to head back to your spot and do your job. Well, her job for now.

You sit down calmly and shuffle through the papers, trying not to look too freaked out. What the heck are you going to do now?

A quick peek at your boss reveals that she's either busy with work or just flat out ignoring you.

Trying to remain collected, you pick out the top letter from the pile. The first paragraph reads:

Hi Rosie! I'm a huge fan of your Matchmaker spread :) I never thought I'd be the one writing you a message but here we are hahaha. (Let's hope this gets featured!)

You roll your eyes but continue reading,

Me and my boyfriend have been dating for just about two months and I would describe our relationship as 'lowkey'. We first met at a bar a last year but we surprisingly didn't immediately hit it off.

With a raised eyebrow you skip over a page full of sappy descriptions and relationship stories, before getting to the end of the letter.

So what should I do? He's really sweet but I'm not sure if I'm ready to meet his family just yet.... please help! Love, Courtney.

You fold the paper back to it's original state with a quiet gulp. What on earth did you get yourself into?

#blackpink #blackpink scenarios #park chaeyoung #rosé #rosé fluff #rosé angst #rosé smut #rosé x reader #girlfriend rosé #blackpink rosé #blackpink rose #rose angst #rose fluff #blckpink fluff #blackpink angst #blackpink smut #roseanne park #rosé park

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sweetiejunie · 5 years ago

Text

Cupid’s Arrow

Summary: all it took was a few shots and a phone call

Genre: fluff / angst

Yeonjun x reader (ft. Best friend! Kai)

Warning: swearing • drinking, pls drink responsibly 🍻

=====================================

An arrow is said to be shaped as a concave quadrilateral. Unlike a knife, it makes it harder to be removed once you’ve been hit. It causes you to bleed out. Putting an end to the misery and inevitably, your life.

That’s exactly how yeonjun felt when he first saw you. You had shot cupid’s arrow at his heart and no matter how hard he tried there was no way for him to remove it. A perfectly crafted arrow that ensured it hit its target, him. The only difference in this case was that there was no end to his suffering or pain. Whenever he saw you talking or laughing with his other members, that arrow only got deeper making his heart twist and hurt more.

He had met you through Kai. You were in the same class and one day Kai had invited you to their dorm to work on an assignment you had. And ever since, the boys had been inviting you over more and more often.

The moment yeonjun laid an eye on you, he was gone. The way you shyly smiled and greeted them just made his heart race. You were probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

He’s never been brave enough to tell you how he’d fallen victim to one of your fatal arrows, he just couldn’t. In his mind you were the huntress and he was your prey. And a huntress never gets hit by their own arrows, do they. There’s no way you fell for him.

To him, you were some untouchable prize he couldn’t even dream of achieving, the one with the bow and an impenetrable heart. Little did he know, your heart had been hit. And by who? The answer would really surprise him.

It’s been a year since he’s been hit, but the arrow still stuck with him, as painful as it’s ever been. A year of all the pent-up frustration, jealously and love. Throughout that time, he’s tried multiple times to tell you how he felt, and every time he backed out at the last minute, in fears of rejection. He was about to explode and on that one faithful day he finally did. All it took was a couple shots and a phone call.

Yeonjun had tried and attempted many times to get over you. Whenever he failed to confess, he immediately wanted to give up on you in general. He assumed being friends with you enough for him but time and time again he proved himself wrong.

He always drank when he felt the pain, drinking just enough to help numb his heart. A feeling he’s gotten accustomed to.

Today, the stinging in his chest was worse than ever. He had overheard your plans with Kai to go to a some new ice cream parlor. How he wanted Kai to say no and for you to have asked him instead.

Thats how he ended up here, at McClaren’s bar, the only person spending time with him was a little birdie called jack daniel, someone he considered a close friend by this point. He took a shot, cringing as the alcohol slide down his throat, burning, but no pain could compare to what his heart was going through.

Earlier that day he saw you entering the practice room as their practise was coming to an end. In his heart he hoped you were there looking for him but instead you greeted him and the other boys and turned to Kai. He knows you and Kai were best friends, but it still hurt how he wasn’t your number one choice and probably would never be.

He remembered how you had showed Kai a picture of the parlor, the way your face lit up as you talked about how excited you were to try it. He took another shot.

He remembered how you waited for Kai to end practice. He wished you had been waiting for him instead, taking another shot.

The way you and Kai left the building together, laughing and chatting about god knows what. With each shot he took, he felt his frustration build. But that didnt last long. A wave of sadness crashed on him and he realised there was no way he could stay mad at you, no matter how drunk and/or sober he was. He just cared and loved you too much.

As the alcohol started to take effect, yeonjun felt his negative thoughts, along with his sobriety, fade away. All his thoughts, except one, you. In a way he was glad all he could think about was you, but he despised the jealousy and pain that came with it.

“Why can’t she just realise how i felt about her? I’ve been trying so fucking hard to make it obvious, why is she so ignorant?” He rambled, to no one in particular.

There was no one close enough to hear him, hell, it was too early for anyone to be at a bar, but he still continued mumbling to himself. He was depressed, or maybe it was anger? He didn’t know anymore, all his emotions were numb, creating a mess in his mind. A few more shots through his soliloquy and suddenly everything went black.

——————————————————————————

“What! You jumped on a glass coffee table?!” Kai exclaimed, bursting into a fit of laughter as you told him the story of how you wanted to test a glass table by jumping on it, breaking it in the process, obviously.

“Hey! Its not my fault it broke okay!”

“Yeah, right. The table came out of no where and got in your way right?”

“Exactly!” You said sarcastically, folding your arm in a defensive manner, “you get me. But there’s something you need to know about me Kai-”

“That you like glass coffee tables?” He intrupted with another round of laughs.

“No. It’s that I’m just really dumb,” you reponded, and with that, the entire street was filled with your laughters. Thankfully, the street was practically empty at that hour.

It was nearly 11pm as you and Kai made your way back home. The past few hours you spent with your best friend had been fun. After getting ice cream, you headed to the nearby park to walk off the calories. However, you both somehow ended up at the playground playing on the swings, with Kai pushing you, of course. You had fun, but eventually the sun had to call it a day and so did you.

It was a beautiful night, stars filled the sky and the moon hung brightly beside them. You’ve always loved stargazing and one day you hoped to be able to lie in the grass, stargazing with your favourite person.

“So... you planning to confess anytime soon?”

You chocked at Kai’s sudden question, “what?”

“Oh, dont pretend. You know who I’m talking about and i know you’re thinking of him right now.”

Blushing at how obvious you were being, you replied, “no way, he doesn’t like me. Ill just be digging my own grave.”

As if on cue, you felt your phone ring in your back pocket.

“Hold on Kai,” you paused, retrieving your phone.

‘Yeonjun 🥴💓’ you heart fluttered as the screen lit up, revealing the caller. ‘That’s weird, why would he be calling me?’ You thought.

No doubt, Kai saw the name and was now teasing you about it. Kai was the only person you trusted enough to tell about your crush on yeonjun, you didnt know him long at the time, but something about him just drew you in. You hit Kai’s arm and answered the phone, signalling Kai to be quiet.

“Hey yeonjun! What’s up?”

Kai blew a kiss in your direction and you responded by rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

You heard someone at the other end of the line but the voice that replied didn’t belong to the blue haired boy you knew.

“Um hi, is this y/n?”

“Yes, that would be me.”

“Oh hi, um so your friend here passed out and he’s been mubbling your name a lot, so i figured you were the person i should call,” the stranger said, letting out a dry laugh at the awkwardness of the call.

“What? Is he okay? Where is he?” You asked, panic overtaking you.

“Yes, he seems fine, he just had a bit too much to drink. He’s at McClaren’s.”

“Alright, thank you! I’ll go pick him up now!” With that, you hung up.

You turned to face Kai, who was looking at you with the face of confusion, “come on we have to pick up yeonjun, he’s at the bar.”

——————————————————————————

You hailed a taxi and you both jumped in. Your mind flooded with worry as you wondered what could have made yeonjun drink so much. He was fine when you were at the practice room earlier, did you miss something when you left?

The moment you arrived, you rushed into the bar, leaving Kai to pay for the ride. When you stepped in, a mixture of alcohol and smoke filled your senses but you couldn’t care less. Your main goal was ensuring yeonjun was alright.

Your eyes scanned the scene until they fell upon the boy slumbering at bar counter. An open bottle of whiskey rested infront of him. He must have had at least five to six shots. Your eyes soften at this realisation and you made your way over to him. Seeing his sleeping face, you couldn’t help but give a small smile. He just looked so... breathtaking.

Gently nudging him, you tried waking him up. “Yeonjun, wake up, we need to get you home.”

“Y/n?” He said groggily, lifting his head as he slowly woke up, smell of alcohol in his breath.

“Hey, yeah it’s me.”

“You’re not y/n, she’s out with Kai. There’s no way she cared about me enough to come here.”

Hearing this left you at a loss for words. You didn’t care about him enough? It hurt your soul knowing that’s what he thought. The only thing you cared about was him. More than anything.

“It’s been a year and she hasn’t even noticed how much i love her. I love her to point it hurts me so fucking badly. I love her more than Kai ever will. But she always asks him to hang out instead of me. I wish i was her first choice, not him,” he continued, laying his head back down on his arms.

His sudden confession left you speechless. ‘Did he mean it? Or was it just the alcohol talking.’ A million thoughts ran through your head until Kai intrupted them by coming in to look for you.

“There you are, what’s taking so long? Let’s get him and go. Help me get him up,” Kai said, not wanting to stay in the bar any longer than required. After making sure yeonjun had all his belongings, Kai slung Yeonjun’s arm over his shoulders and lead him out of the bar and into the taxi.

Throughout the entire journey back, yeonjun slept peacefully in the back seat and you didn’t mutter a single sentence, his words still on your mind.

Being your best friend, of course Kai noticed something was wrong but he didn’t want to say anything since yeonjun was around, and who knows what he will remember when he sobers up.

After reaching the dorm, you thanked the taxi driver and got out. You opened the dorm door for Kai as he dragged the drunked inside and threw him on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh from all the exercise he’d just done.

Kai followed you into the kitchen as you prepared an aspirin and water for yeonjun when he woke up the next day.

“Okay, what’s wrong? You didn’t say a single thing the entire ride back. What happened before i found you in the bar? And don’t lie to me,” he said, using his arm to lean against the door frame, blocking the exit, preventing you from leaving till he gets a satisfactory answer.

You hesitated, “i... yeonjun... he confessed before you came in. But I’m sure that was just the alcohol talking. He also said he’s hurt by how you’re always my first choice and how I didn’t care enough about him.” You let out an awkward laugh, the glass of water making it obvious how badly your hand was shaking.

Kai’s eyes widened in shock, “that’s great, isn’t it? You like him and, revelation tonight, he likes you. You could ask him again tomorrow if you want. I doubt he’ll remember any of it.”

There was silence as you tried to process everything that happened tonight.

“You should stay here tonight, it’s really late, you can borrow some of my clothes. I’ll take care of him for a while, alright?” Kai continued, taking the glass of water out of your hands.

——————————————————————————

The next morning 8am

Yeonjun woke up, head pounding, throat dry. He couldn’t remember a single thing that happened the previous night. He remembered being angry, then sad, then... nothing. He didn’t even remember how or who got him home.

The dorm was quiet, the other boys hadn’t woken up yet. It was quite early, earlier than yeonjun was used to waking up. Sitting up, he noticed the water and aspirin sitting on the coffee table.

‘Who left this here?’ He wondered, knowing his members definitely wouldn’t do that. They would have been kicking and swearing at him for making them carry him home.

Along with the pill, he downed the glass of water and stood up. He wobbled a bit, legs still asleep but eventually regained his balance and made his way to the kitchen. He heard footsteps approaching him, but he figured it was just one of the boys.

“Oh yeonjun you’re awake, how are you feeling?”

He spun around on his heels, surprised to hear your voice, a voice he would recognise before he even saw your face.

“Y/n- good- good morning,” he stuttered after getting the air knocked out of his lungs. You looked adorable, hair messy, wearing an oversized tshirt that belonged to... Kai. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

“I didn’t know you stayed over. Massive headache, but I’ll get over it.”

“Drink a lot of water okay. Why did you drink so much yesterday?” You asked as you made your way to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Oh... i just... didn’t know my own limit i guess.”

Lies.

You let out a ‘hm’ in reponse. “Well, you said some funny stuff last night. Do u remember any of it?” You looked to the ground, not daring to make eye contact with him.

He shook his head.

A dry laugh escaped you lips as you contemplated if you should continue. “Well, i guess you... kind of confessed to me...” you trailed off as you felt a blush creep up to your cheeks.

Yeonjun’s mouth hung open as he looked for the right words to say. Millions of things running through his mind. Should he lie or should he just admit to it? I guess there was no point hiding his crush now, was there?

“Shit... I’m sorry if i made you feel awkward,” he looked down, hand scratching the back of his neck. He took a deep breath and continued, “I’ve liked you for almost a year now. I know you don’t see me that way and I’ve been trying to get over you for a while now, but i just can’t. Since the day i saw you, there’s been an arrow in my heart. I’m sorry.”

You dont see him that way? Gosh, he couldn’t be anymore wrong and it broke your heart. Without thinking, your arms were around him, engulfing him in a hug.

“Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever think i don’t care about you, because i do. I care about you more than anyone, because... i like you too... so much, since the day i met you.”

“Oh, thank god,” he let out in a breath, hugging you back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You wouldn’t belive how many times I’ve tried telling you and how many times i imagined you would say that.”

You stayed like this for a while, both too happy to say anything.

“You know, there’s a new cafe that opened recently. Would you want to go with me?” You asked, looking up at him, breaking the silence.

“Of course i would,” he replied, resting his forehead against yours. He was grinning like a cheshire, he had gotten his wish.

“Maybe i should have got drunk a long time ago,” he joked, making you giggle.

Just like that, yeonjun felt the arrow in his heart disappear. The once permanent scare was now gone, and he was happier than ever. All it took was a few shots and phone call.

=====================================

So this was a bit longer than i usually write. But i really enjoyed writing this, and hope you enjoy reading it!

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yeoldontknow · 6 years ago

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Enough (M)

Author’s Note: uhm...i felt this in my soul today and im going to say up front this is not a usual reader insert. as an adult plus size woman, sometimes i want to read about a larger OC/YN who struggles with body image. so i wrote that because i imagine if i want to read that, someone else must want that too. im not trying to tackle anything huge with this, i just want to fill a different kind of need. if its not your thing, you dont have to read it. i love you as much as i love chanyeol, regardless if you read my work or not <3 Prompt (from the followers milestone drabble game): 99 - “You’ve got a cute butt.” Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: light smut; fluff; light angst; romance; au Summary: You’ve admired your co-worker for a long time, often to the point of viewing him as someone unattainable. The morning after you slept together, you think about self-worth, beauty, and remind yourself of your power. Rating: light NC-17 Warnings: light sexual references Word count: 2,096

When you wake, your body still feels him.

The morning burns, seeping through the linen of your curtains to cast irregular shadows on the walls, adding to the difference of the day. This moment, this new outlook on life is different - not bad, not good, just different. Irrevocably changed by hands that have somehow learned to hold you. Beneath the sheets, your body feels warm, handled in a way you forgot was possible. Lately, men have kissed at you, curled around you either too much or too little - wanting you, all the while reminding you that you are unneeded.

Last night, Chanyeol touched you, felt you, pressed himself against and inside you deep enough, hard enough, that he lingers now as an enduring echo. Your skin tingles with him, with the press of his fingers into your hips, the shuddering breath he left against your collarbone, still making you tremble, even as the dawn urges you to let him go.

You knew it would be this way with him. You did not expect anything less.

For months, you watched him in the office, studied him and all the things he sometimes tries to hide, or does not know how to hide. He’s hard to miss - tall and laughing louder than anyone else in the room; asymmetrical with ears too big for his head and legs that bow out, but you would not fathom him any other way. He’s hard to miss, but his soul is.

In meetings, he fidgets - not because he’s bored, but because he’s created answers through and around the problem and has been told to wait. In silence, he is pensive, frowning at himself and the magnitude of his thoughts, anxious to give and give until someone allows him to receive. In work ethic, he is diligent, so unlike the noise of his personality, dedicated to correctness, to perfection, and often exhausted from the pressure of achieving both.

And he’s beautiful - too beautiful to truly perceive, wearing his complexities as though they are badges of honor and too self-aware to truly be proud. On him, proud is a pretense, the knowledge that he can and will win, but unsure if he truly deserves the prize. On him, pride is empty, shallow, and presented only because someone told him it should.

For months, you watched him, eyes tracing his but never truly meeting.

For months, you watched him, and only with four drinks in your blood were you able to tell him this was so.

But now, as the memories of the night before flood - the way he spread your thighs, groaning that he was hard enough to hurt for you; the way he licked at your center, thirsty for the clench of your walls against his tongue; the way he thrust into you, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep your chest on his, desperate for your heart - you did not expect him to stay. At the sight of him beside you, wetness grows at your core, remembering how it felt to be full of him. You crave him there again, stretched full and showing him just how powerful you are when the sun gives you wings, and know that sex and lust feel different when light does not let you hide.

You crave him there, but he may not crave you.

People don’t want you this way. Not enough to take their time and certainly not enough to stay. You are a transient thing, someone who experiences sex as though it is an eclipse, and watches bodies move towards and away from your body. If you’re honest, you’ve grown accustomed to being the moon, with waxing and waning against someone’s orbit until they no longer look to see if you are full. You are comfortable and you’ve accepted it.

Everyone has a season, and yours glimmers just like gold.

Turning over in the bed, your cover yourself up to your neck with the sheets, and watch the mess of his hair shiver gently against your pillow with the rhythm of his breath. In the sunlight, he is glorious and glowing, seemingly unaware of the control he has over your heart, aloof in all the ways you find endearing. It’s hard to know when you fell or how for him, somewhen in the days spent watching and waiting, suddenly no longer being able to discern the difference between the two. It only matters that you did, that you have, and that it’s important you remind yourself you are not unworthy.

It doesn’t make sense that he should be different, someone whose hardness contrasts so harshly with your softness; someone who grows muscle, and not marks. Someone who cannot wear his clothes in the morning or appear small beneath the fabric of a hoodie; someone whose breasts only just fit in the palm of his hand and remind him that he is large only because you let yourself see him this way. It doesn’t make sense, but the world has never truly been comprised of logic or motive, only of actions that bleed into reactions, an endless course of collisions that birth new modes being.

Today, you think you are majestic.

Today, you know you are the only one who could properly hold the totality of him.

Today, you are aware that you deserve someone who hungers for the totality of you.

And so you pull yourself away from him, letting your fingers card through his hair one last time, knowing that you do not need this to remember only that you want it and are letting yourself have it. You pull away and head for your shower, knowing that the pressure of water against tile is enough to rouse anyone from slumber, and this is his opportunity to leave and still offer your dignity.

The hardwood is cold against your toes, and you take the top blanket with you, covering your body as you quietly make your way to the bathroom. Leaning out to check on the bed, you find he has not moved from the slight change in temperature, content as though the side of the bed belongs to him alone.

Shutting the door and turning the shower on, you regard yourself in the mirror as you let the water get warm.

You are not unpretty.

In truth, there is no one on earth who could not, would not, be beautiful. Beauty is an indeterminate thing, an impossible thing to hold and something that often comes down to actions. It speaks for itself, in bounds, and while you are not, and will not ever be small, slim, conventional, you are full, and joyful, and welcoming. The heart in your chest speaks in the sound of your voice and you are glad you let yourself be heard, though often you wonder who it is that listens.

You are not unpretty. And you are not unworthy.

You are magic and power and fortitude, a reckoning force that creates what you choose to make and this is why you are deserving. It is not for him to choose you, you tell yourself, only for him to learn to receive.

Stepping into the shower, you smile and sigh.

Beneath the warm flow of water, you let yourself get drenched.

By thoughts. By the way the light can change things. By the impatience that comes with waiting for answers.

Light changes things - this is your primary thought. Light makes things glow, bloom, shine; but it also exposes. It sears its way into corners that cower away, neither ugly nor foul, simply raw. In the dark, where all things are equal, it is easy to take what you have earned. And in the light, it is easy to say you do not want it because it hurts.

The light plays with you like this, and you think you are best in the full rays of the sun.

The light plays with you, and you are glad for the power of choosing how you gleam.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the door opening, the shuffling of feet against the tile muffled beneath the sound of water. His shadow lingers behind the glass, shifting from foot to foot, uncertain, before sliding it open and greeting you with a smile.

Eyes still bleary with sleep, he offers you a small, boyish smile as he steps inside. He’s awkward with the placement of his limbs in the small space, and for a moment you giggle, never having had someone with such a wingspan shower with you. For a long moment, you simply look at him, marveling at how he holds your stare, unhurried for the rest of you the way so many partners are. He luxuriates in seeing you, smiling at you, stepping closer until he pulls you to his chest and rests his forehead against yours, contented by the bliss of your touch.

‘I was lonely when I woke up,’ he murmurs, lips moving against the tip of your nose. ‘You should have told me you were going.’

It’s difficult not to giggle at the pout that tugs on his expression, softening his cheeks and lips until your skin hurts from not touching his face. Sliding your fingers up his arms, you watch the way your hands leave smears of wetness against his veins and tattoos, mystified.

‘Did you sleep okay?’ It’s an absentminded question, even though you mean it. Permission has been granted to lose yourself in him, and you choose to savor feel of his palms against your back.

How odd, you think, to truly, finally be held. How odd, and how extraordinary.

He nods against you momentarily before stepping back to grab your shampoo. ‘Best I’ve had in ages, to be honest.’

Gently, he turns you in his hands, and you hear him gather some shampoo in his palms before his fingers move through your hair. Electricity walks down your spine, sending spark along your synapses that make your toes feel numb. It’s hard to say if you’ve ever been taken care of this way, if you’ve ever let yourself be nurtured, but he takes to it with as much diligence as anything you’ve seen him passionate about, and you bite the inside of your cheek to fight off words of thanks.

You deserve to be treasured this way, you think. It’s just impossible to believe it would be him.

Silence befalls you both as he continues to wash your hair, shaping the strands into irregular objects just to make you laugh. Frenetic as he is, it’s not long until he begins to hum, an unidentifiable arrangement born of pleasure overflowing from his chest and washing over you like honey. You could die this way, you think, wrapped in ecstasy and held by hope.

But then, with a reverence that borders on paradise, he moves your hair from your shoulder and gently, lightly, presses a kiss to your neck. You lean into it, hands seeking his as his arms wrap around your waist, certain that you will slip, weakened by the affection. Running his nose along your skin, he sighs, kissing what he can until he reaches your ear.

‘You’ve got a cute butt.’

Laughter erupts from your chest, body molding to liquid fire as you turn to face him.

All boldness disappears from his features as a blush stains his cheeks, teeth coming to bite his bottom lip in shyness. Blinking away water, unsure of the reality, you gently reach a hand to cup his cheek, and sigh as it’s his turn to lean into you, both of you feeling exposed.

‘You make me feel vulnerable,’ you admit, surprised that your voice does not shake.

‘I mean…’ he begins, voice trailing off into the distance. He pauses momentarily, idly shifting to press a kiss to your palm before he continues. ‘Me too.’

Stepping closer, you wrap your arm around his waist, trailing your fingers over his spine. ‘Why did you stay?’

Chanyeol pouts. ‘Did you want me to leave?’

‘No,’ you shake your head, shrugging. ‘I just didn’t know what you wanted.’

Moving to hold your face in his hands, he presses a light kiss to your forehead, nose, and lips. It’s brief, altogether too chaste for the way his mouth explored your folds the night before, but it’s enough to know he’s serious.

‘I want you,’ he says, firmly, searching your eyes for slivers of rejection. ‘I’ve wanted you. I wanted to stay.’

‘I want you to stay, too.’

Today, you think, this is enough.

You are always enough.

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