#I should be working on my semester project instead of this but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaoticforever · 3 months

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Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader

Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?

Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.

Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.

Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.

Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.

However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.

Peter Parker.

See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.

He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.

"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"

"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"

Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."

"And what perspective is that?"

Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."

Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."

A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."

Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."

Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.

As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.

But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.

With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.

When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.

"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.

Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"

"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"

"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."

Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."

Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"

Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.

"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."

Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.

The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?

It was ridiculous.

But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.

Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.

He couldn’t wait.

XXXXX XXXXX

The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.

Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.

After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.

Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.

Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.

His dad was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.

"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.

Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"

"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.

The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.

"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.

Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."

That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.

"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."

Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.

Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."

"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."

Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."

The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t understand.

Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.

Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.

The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.

Proud dad moment...?

Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?

And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.

His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.

Suddenly, a knock came from his door.

"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"

Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"

Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"

The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."

Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.

"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.

Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.

They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.

Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.

"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."

Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."

Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."

The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."

He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."

"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."

Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.

But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.

And that made him smile.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.

As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.

"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."

Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."

The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."

Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."

Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"

"I took Peter to the science fair."

"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."

The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand.

"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"

"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."

Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.

Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.

And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.

Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.

"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.

Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."

Y/n looked around. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped."

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him.

And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."

Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."

Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."

Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.

Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."

"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."

It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.

"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.

Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."

He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.

And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.

"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one.

"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.

As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.

But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.

Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.

And his heart dropped to his stomach.

Y/n had been shot.

The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.

"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"D-Dad."

"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.

The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son.

Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s.

"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.

Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.

"What happened?" One of them asked.

"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained.

The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.

Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.

Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it."

The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.

But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."

Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.

"I love you."

The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.

"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n.

But it didn't work.

"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.

Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.

"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced.

And, just like that, Tony Stark broke.

He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.

Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.

And Tony felt like he had died too.

His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.

"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."

But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.

He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it.

It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.

That made his sobs grow louder.

The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.

Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.

Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.

Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.

Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful.

Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.

Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."

For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.

XXXXX XXXXX

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x son reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #son reader #x son!reader #x son reader #platonic #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

736 notes · View notes

riizegasm · 4 months

Text

Cherry Waves || H. DM (Taesan)

❀ pairing: boynextdoor taesan x fem!reader (mentions of riize anton)

❀ genre: college!au, fluff, minor crack

❀ word count: ~5.1k

❀ warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, taesan is a little bit of a loser here (endearingly), slightly ooc!taesan

❀ summary: You don't like Deftones. You like Han Taesan. Han Taesan likes you and Deftones. All it takes is some rock music, a bad college party, and a few broken vinyls for you to reconcile the differences. With stuttered words and an embarrassing amount of blushing, you learn to make it work.

❀ a/n: My first piece with absolutely zero angst! Are you guys proud of me? I absolutely adore this piece, so I hope you guys do as well. As always, likes, replies, and reblogs are encouraged!

masterlist

“Dude, just go talk to her!”

Taesan immediately flushes at the comment, smacking a hand over Jaehyun’s mouth. It doesn’t matter if the music in the party is loud enough to drown out every conversation. He can’t risk anyone else hearing, especially you.

“Shut up,” he hisses, finally releasing his hold on his best friend’s mouth. “What if she hears you?”

Jaehyun cocks an eyebrow. “Do you want her to hear me? HEY Y/N!”

Taesan scrambles to cover Jaehyun’s mouth again, but it’s too late. The damage has already been done.

Your eyes light up when you spot the duo in the kitchen, waving animatedly. Taesan struggles to contain the stampede running through his stomach and the blush overtaking his cheeks. You always look stunning, but there’s something about your baggy jeans and cropped graphic tee that has Taesan swooning. It should be embarrassing, how good he thinks you look, but nothing can overcome the feeling of sheer panic as you begin to approach.

“Myungjae! It’s been forever,” you say, reaching over to pull your friend into a hug.

“I know! It’s weird not having classes together anymore,” Jaehyun responds with a dramatic fake sob.

Your slight giggle is barely audible above the music, but it’s almost as if Taesan’s ears are specifically in tune to you and every sound you make. He silently curses when you turn your eyes to him, a soft smile gracing your face. He knows his face must be fire engine red at this point, simply unable to cope with you being so close.

“Hi Taesan. Long time no see.”

It hasn’t been that long since he’s seen you, but he’s not quite sure how to articulate that without sounding like a total creep. That’s not to say he’s a stalker or anything, but the two of you seem to cross paths quite frequently on campus. You wouldn’t know, of course, since Taesan always ducks for cover any time he spots you coming. Instead of saying that very fact, he opts for a simple smile.

“Yeah, it has. How have you been?” He mentally cheers at his ability to get his sentence out without stuttering. “Jaehyun told me you’ve been pretty busy.”

Your smile grows even brighter, eyes taking on a teasing glint. “You asked about me?”

Even the overly loud bass line can’t vibrate a single cell in Taesan’s body, the man having grown rigid at your question. The short answer is yes. How could he not when even the tiniest glimpse of you has his heart racing in his chest. He knows he can’t say that, though, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he flounders for an answer.

“I’m just kidding!” You giggle. “But Myungjae is right. I’ve been so busy this semester. My research project is taking up all of my time.”

When Taesan looks to his left, he notices the aforementioned man is nowhere in sight, clearly having abandoned you two. Taesan makes a mental note to beat him up a little bit later. But for now, he just has to focus on not weirding you out.

“Oh! Um, what’s your research project on?”

With the way your eyes brighten underneath the dim purple glow of the party, Taesan wishes he had his camera. He wishes he could simply capture something that showed just how happy you were. For once, he understands why artists spend hours capturing their subjects on canvas. He could fill an entire gallery with paintings dedicated to the light in your eyes and the brightness of your smile.

“It’s on how urbanization and lack of green spaces affect mental health,” you beam. “And I’ve lowkey gotten so much pushback from my professors because they feel like it’s been done before but—oh shit.”

Taesan barely registers the fact that you stopped talking, too engrossed in the delighted expression on your face. But when that drops in favor of a panicked look, he finally snaps out of his reverie. Despite the dim lighting, it’s clear that you’re looking at something, or rather someone. When Taesan turns to figure out exactly what it is, you’re quick to place a hand on his cheek, turning him back to face you instead.

“Don’t look!” You exclaim in a whisper. “It’s my ex. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The words take a second for Taesan to digest, still focusing on where your warm palm lays on his cheek.

“Your ex?”

Taesan was vaguely aware of the fact that you were in a relationship about a year or so ago, having heard from Jaehyun about the hardship of your breakup. He didn’t know you back then, but he imagined that it would have made him sick, to see you stupefied in love. He never considered himself the jealous type, but when it came to you, he imagined that even another person looking at you too long would set him off.

“Yeah, shit. He’s coming. I’m about to do something and please just go along with it.”

Taesan flushes when you make eye contact again, your hand making a slow trail from his cheek down to wrap around the back of his neck. He struggles not to moan when your nails begin to play with the small hairs at the nape of his neck. It makes it even worse that he can’t help but track the movement of your mouth as you lick your glossy lips, cheeks pulling upward into a sultry smile. When your other hand places itself gently on his chest, Taesan doesn’t know whether to curse or cheer. A fuzzy feeling is slowly clouding his head, all of the blood in his body having rushed south.

He knows he has to make this believable, though, so he snakes a hand around your waist, thumbing at the bare skin between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your shirt. It takes all of his resolve not to explode right then and there. How the fuck are you so soft?

“Y/N?”

Your eyes sharpen as they make contact with the tall man rounding the corner. Your hands still stay glued to Taesan, though, not willing to part from the close contact. Your ex seems to notice, judging by the way his eyes scan the points where the two of you are connected.

“Oh, Anton! Didn’t know you’d be here.” Your voice carries a tinge of annoyance as you regard the man. “What’s up?”

Anton stutters out an answer, voice coming out too soft to compete with the noise of the party. You cock your head at his words, not fully able to hear what he’s saying. It’s not like you’d want to, anyways, not with the calloused fingers splayed across the exposed skin of your waist and the soft locks peeking through your fingers. You don’t seem to be the only one who doesn’t want to part, though. This close, it’s easy to feel the heart thundering underneath your palms and the goosebumps rising where your nails tease the skin of a neck. Interesting.

“What was that?” You question, cocking your head cutely.

Anton’s blush is clear despite the colored lighting of the party. “Um, never mind. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

You nod, watching as his overly tall form retreats. Once he’s lost in the throng of people crowding the party, you let out a sigh, shoulders sagging in relief. Taesan remains frozen where you hold him, eyes widened in shock. It’s only when you take in his expression that you realize that the two of you are still connected, rushing to take a step back. Taesan takes a breath when his own hands fall to his sides, chest shaking as he exhales.

“I’m so sorry!” You wince. “But thank you for doing that. He’s, uh, persistent, I’ll say.”

“N-no problem,” Taesan stutters.

Silence lingers between the two of you, except the sultry music of the party makes it not all that silent. Distantly, you hear a call of your name, just barely audible above the smooth melody of the R&B track that blasts from the speakers. You turn to give your friend a quick wave before facing Taesan once again, not surprised to see his gaze trained on the floor.

“I’ll, um, see you around,” you mutter, smoothing a hand down the expanse of his bare arm before leaving to meet your friend.

Taesan remains rooted in place, unmoving for a long few moments. The phantom warmth of your hands against his skin has him shivering, unable to think of anything else. After a moment, he sighs, silently willing his erection away.

. . .

“And then her nails were playing with the hair on the back of my neck, and I swear to god, I was about to cream my pants!”

“Ew,” Woonhak gags as he fiddles with the game controller.

“No talking about how Y/N gave you a boner in front of the baby,” Sungho nags. “Save it for your studio and put it in a song.”

Taesan sticks his tongue out at the older man, always having hated when he puts his motherly persona on. Normally, Taesan isn’t the one to take up all the air in the room discussing his newest infatuation. But after last night, it’s all he can seem to talk about.

He would admit that Sungho has a point if he hadn’t already written three songs in less than twenty four hours just about the feeling of your hands on his skin alone. It’s as if you’re consuming him, quite literally engulfing him in the memory of you. You exist so vividly in his mind, the curl of your smile, the color of your eyes, the sweet scent of your perfume. Just the memory of it all has him wondering if he needs to compose a fourth song right now.

“Where did Jaehyun go?” Donghyun asks after he loses the game, pointedly ignoring Woonhak’s celebratory dance. “I feel like he’s been gone for an hour.”

Sanghyuk barely looks up from his phone, speaking through a mouthful of potato chips. “He went to meet up with Y/N for ice cream. Apparently she was having an emergency or something.”

A complete sense of dread overtakes Taesan’s body, fully frozen in the beanbag he had chosen to sit on. What if your ex had come back? What if he was able to see right through your little act and had come back to try to win you over? What if the two of you were getting back together? Or even worse, what if you were telling Jaehyun about the moment you had yesterday, complaining that Taesan was a creep for liking your touch so much? What if you felt uncomfortable around him?

Worst of all, what if you saw his boner?

He isn’t afforded much longer to stew in his hypotheticals, as Jaehyun chooses that exact moment to come through the door. Instantly, he locks eyes with Taesan, expression curling into an annoying smirk. The younger tries his best to seem nonchalant, but he knows his friend can likely see right through him. He’s never been the most subtle.

“Han Taesan,” Jaehyun practically yells as he approaches the living room, ignoring everyone else in the room. “You son of a bitch!”

Taesan’s eyes widen into saucers, staring down the man as he approaches with the force of a bull. “What?”

Jaehyun continues to smirk, plopping down into the beanbag next to him. “I can’t believe you’ve actually done it. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Didn’t know I had what in me?”

“I’m sworn to secrecy,” the man responds, miming zipping his lips shut. “But just know that I’m proud of you, son.”

“I thought I was your son,” Woonhak whines from in front of the tv.

Jaehyun immediately grins, not missing the opportunity to smother the youngest. He moves to go crowd him against the couch, pressing obnoxiously loud kisses all over his face. Donghyun laughs at the antics, happy that it finally gives him a chance to beat Woonhak at the video game. Unfortunately, Taesan isn’t able to laugh, still left reeling over Jaehyun’s earlier comments.

What the hell did he do?

. . .

You take a deep breath, smoothing out your clothes and checking your makeup in your compact mirror. It’s not like you have much to worry about. You know that you look good, having spent an extra twenty minutes getting ready for this exact moment. Thankfully the ten minute walk to get to your destination wasn’t enough to ruin your appearance.

A little bell above the door jingles when you enter the tiny record shop, instantly greeted with the loud riffs of a Deftones song. It’s somewhat jarring and not exactly to your taste, unexpected from a quaint shop near a college campus. But when you remember exactly who works here, it all makes sense.

“Welcome in!” A voice calls from somewhere in the depths of the store.

With all of the stacks of CDs, records, and magazines, it’s impossible to see the majority of the store. But you don’t need to see to know exactly who the voice belongs to. The fact that he’s here brings warmth to your cheeks, forcing you to take a deep breath to keep your composure. You remind yourself that he can’t see you with everything in the way. First thing’s first, you have to fix that.

Inky black hair is the only thing visible when you approach the counter, the worker crouching underneath to unpack some boxes. You try not to laugh when you hear a muffled curse, the cashier clearly displeased.

“Hey Taesan,” you say softly, trying your hardest not to sound as flustered as you feel.

Your response comes in the form of a loud thump, followed by a curse. Before you can react, Taesan is standing to his full height, hand rubbing a spot on the back of his head. His eyes are rounded in surprise, mouth hanging open in half a groan of pain.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” You question.

“Y/N,” he breathes. “Yeah, I’m, um, fine. It doesn’t even hurt!”

You bite back a giggle as the man stutters over his words. “Are you sure? It sounded pretty gnarly.”

“No, not at all. I’m good, I swear.” Taesan’s hand finally leaves the back of his head, moving instead to awkwardly scratch the base of his neck. “What are you doing here?”

In reality, you should have known that he was going to ask. It’s a good question, really, because you don’t know. All you know is that Jaehyun mentioned that Taesan worked here and you’ve been working up the courage to drop by ever since. In the week that you’ve been preparing to come, it never crossed your mind to come ready with an excuse.

“Oh! Well…” your eyes scan the area, looking for anything that could be your saving grace. “I was looking for some retro rock albums! I was telling Myungjae and he said I should come here because you work here. He also said you have really good taste, so…”

It’s not completely untrue, which you feel like is better than flat out lying. And seeing the excited smile bloom on Taesan’s face proves just how much it was worth it.

“You’re into rock?” He asks, eyes lit up like a child on Christmas. “Who’s your favorite band?”

Fuck. “Deftones!”

You guess they are your favorite, since they seem to be the only band you recognize as Taesan rambles on about his love of 90s bands. It makes it easier to zone out, tracing the shape of his lips as they form excited syllables and getting lost in the glimmer in his eyes. You were always so attuned to how attractive Taesan is, but seeing him so excited is undoubtedly different. You try your hardest to ignore the continuous fluttering in your chest.

“So?” Taesan asks, drumming his fingers against the wooden counter. “Are you looking for vinyl, cassette, or CD?”

You’re quick to snap out of your reverie, smiling sheepishly. “Vinyl.”

. . .

Taesan swears he must have been a hero in his last life or something. He must have saved kids from a burning orphanage or stopped a war from happening. He must have saved one million trees or stopped robbers from ransacking grandmas’ houses. How else can he explain why he’s been blessed with so much of your presence over the last few weeks?

Every Tuesday and Friday, you waltz into the record store like clockwork, looking like nothing short of a dream. You never really buy anything, which doesn’t bother Taesan, because it means you spend extra time talking to him. He constantly swoons when you laugh at his jokes, perpetually fighting a blush near you. The angelic sounds of your giggles are always heard over the harsh guitar riffs of Deftones, which he makes sure to always have on when you walk in.

You’re giggling now, head tipped back and nose scrunched adorably. Taesan swears that one day he’s going to record the sound and put it in a song. It would just add to the list of countless songs he’s produced about you, a plethora of hard hitting raps and softer rock ballads. He wonders if one day he’ll ever get to play them for you.

“I can’t believe you knocked over the entire display,” you giggle. “Did any of them break?”

Taesan smiles sheepishly. “Let’s just say a huge chunk was cut out of my paycheck to repair the damage.”

It’s hard for Taesan to do anything but stare as you chuckle once again. The tips of his fingers itch to reach out and smooth back the stray pieces of your hair that have freed themselves from your neat style, desperate to make any type of physical contact. He’s craved to feel your soft skin again ever since the party two months ago. He wonders if you’re still just as soft, if your nails would scratch his scalp the same way, if you’d bite your glossy lips as you peered into his eyes again.

“You know, I wish I could work in a place like this. I feel like it would just be perfect since I love music so much,” you gush. “I’ve always wanted to make my own song, but it seems so difficult.”

Taesan lights up at your admission. “I could show you!”

At the cute tilt of your head, he decides to backtrack.

“I mean, I don’t know if you know, but I make music. It’s actually how I met Jaehyun! So, if you’re curious on how to do it, you can drop by the studio sometime and I could show you.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

You don’t even know the beginning of what Taesan would do for you, but instead of telling you so, the boy just nods. “Of course.”

The two of you make arrangements for you to stop by the next day, Taesan fighting a smile as you give him your number so he can send the address.

He ends up using it for more than that, the two of you chatting via text for the rest of the afternoon. You try your best to dismiss it as him just being friendly, ignoring the heat that rises to your cheeks every time your phone goes off with a new notification. It’s right before you leave for your morning class that you get another one, causing you to snort out a laugh:

See you in the music building on the second floor! Lmk if you get lost. That would suck :(

The music building is one of the oldest buildings on campus, its ivy-covered brick exterior serving as a trademark of your school. But when you push through the grandiose front doors, you realize that the inside is actually much nicer than you had expected. Sleek linoleum floors are polished so well that they practically serve as mirrors, reflecting the light from the opulent overhead fixtures. Even the staircase is nice, its carved wooden railing cold to the touch as you ascend to the second floor. Pretty signs make studio 2N easy enough to find, tucked at the end of a long hallway.

It’s only as you approach the door that your nerves begin to show themselves. You knock on the studio door with sweaty palms, hating the way that your heart hammers in your chest. The feeling of being so nervous before you see Taesan has become increasingly familiar as you both have spent more and more time together. Despite the number of visits you have paid to the record store, your body has never stopped kicking into overdrive at the thought of seeing him.

Before you can knock again, the studio door swings open, a tall figure standing in the doorway. He’s bathed in blue light from the LEDs that hang along the walls, creating a halo around his dark locks. A pair of thick black glasses frame his eyes, softening his normally intimidating look. When he breaks into a smile, you find yourself doing the same, mirroring his infatuated expression.

“You made it,” he says softly, motioning you inside.

The door is heavy when it falls shut behind you, leaving the both of you in a blue bathed silence.

“I did,” you reply, looking around at the various recording equipment strewn around the space. “This place is incredible.”

Taesan shoots you a closed lipped smile, sitting down at a desk on the far side of the room. He motions to a comfy looking chair next to him, smiling fully when you sit down next to him.

“Thanks. Jaehyun and I got special permission to decorate it and make it more of our own. I feel like it makes it easier to get the creative juices flowing, you know?”

You have no idea, no longer having paid attention after the first word. It’s too easy to get lost in the way Taesan’s mouth moves as he speaks, something you have found happening over and over again whenever you see each other. You thank the divine that he hasn’t seemed to notice your habit.

“Oh!” Taesan interrupts his own ramblings. “We also have a fridge. Do you want anything? Water, juice, beer?”

“You guys can have beer in here?”

Taesan smirks as he approaches the fridge. “Nope. Catch!”

The can is ice cold when it falls into your hands, serving as a cool refuge for the otherwise clammy surface. You wait until Taesan settles back next to you to crack the drink open, smiling when he bumps his can against yours in a silent cheers.

Being with Taesan in his studio proves to be extremely different from being with him in the record store. He’s clearly in his element here, showing you what each button of his complex equipment does as he stacks sounds on top of each other. He even asks for your input, seeing what you like best before adding it to the track. The beer also seems to help ease his nerves, no longer a stuttering mess whenever he addresses you.

It makes the time that passes feel like nothing as the two of you work on the song. A couple of hours in, you both have created an entire instrumental track, just waiting for lyrics to complete it.

“Who knew you were such a good producer?” Taesan asks as he saves and closes out of the track. “You must have been an artist in your past life.”

You roll your eyes at the joke, cracking a smile at the boy’s antics. When you glance back at the screen, however, the smile instantly dissipates from your face.

“Taesan,” you breathe. “What’s that?”

The man in question follows your gaze where it is trained on his computer screen, clearly stuck on a folder that is simply labeled with your name. He feels his heart rising into his throat, rushing to open up a new window to hide the folder.

“N-nothing,” he stammers, but judging by your expression, he knows it’s too late. “I promise it’s not anything weird or creepy or anything! Shit, that makes it sound more creepy. But it’s not, I swear.”

“Taesan,” you repeat slowly, “what was that?”

The man buries his face into his hands, groaning loudly before looking at you again. “Fuck, you’re gonna think I’m such a loser.”

You choose not to respond to that, motioning at his computer again. Even in the artificial blue light, you can see the color that begins to rise to his cheeks. In any other situation, you’d consider it cute, but you’re still not sure whether or not to be creeped out.

Taesan sighs, double clicking the folder to reveal a plethora of untitled files. You try your best to see what they are, or what they could contain, but Taesan opens one before you get a chance. It brings you right back to his producing software, a track beginning to load.

“Just listen.”

The melody that plays is hard hitting, a little jarring in the small space. There’s a strong drum beat for a moment, only to be slowed down right before a voice starts rapping.

Taesan keeps his eyes firmly trained on the floor as the song plays, trying his hardest not to cringe at his own lyrics. He goes on and on about the way you laugh, the color of your eyes, the swell of your hips. In the chorus, he highlights how much he wants to be yours, how perfect you are. It all repeats until the end, where he confesses how perfect he could be for you.

When the song ends, neither of you move, letting an oppressive silence linger in the small space. You don’t even notice the way your mouth has hung open until you feel a slight pain in your jaw. Despite it, you can’t seem to keep your mouth closed, continually floundering for words.

“You wrote that?” You question, voice barely coming out as a whisper.

Taesan simply nods.

“About me?”

When the boy nods a second time, you can’t help but stand from the chair, taking the two steps necessary to stand in front of him. He’s clearly startled when you place a hand on his shoulder, eyes tracing your figure as he looks up. The light of the computer screen is reflected in his eyes, making them appear as if they are sparkling.

“You like me?”

Taesan swallows thickly at your question, nodding again slowly. He goes to look away, but you place a hand under his jaw, preventing him from turning.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Taesan whispers. “You’re you and I’m me. I like you so much, but you’re, like, so out of my league. I didn’t want you to laugh at me.”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes at the boy’s confession. But it immediately dies in your throat when Taesan squeezes his eyes shut, looking on the verge of tears. You instantly scramble to reassure him.

“No, I promise I’m not laughing because of that,” you coo. “It’s just…why do you think I kept coming by the record store?”

Taesan opens his eyes, glistening with unshed tears. “Because you like Deftones…?”

“Oh my god!”

You can’t help but fully laugh this time, releasing Taesan’s face in favor of squeezing onto his lap. His mouth drops into a soft “o” as you settle in, hands frozen awkwardly on the arm rests. You take his surprise as an opportunity to snake a hand around the back of his neck, letting your nails scratch at the base of his skull like they did months prior.

“Taesan,” you whisper. “I don’t like Deftones.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I like you.”

You wish you had a camera to capture Taesan’s expression at the moment when what you’re saying clicks for him. It takes a moment, the words seemingly churning in his head before their meaning becomes apparent. His head cocks to the side, eyes no longer glistening with unshed tears, but rather sparkling with disbelief.

“You like me?”

The chuckle that escapes you is dripping with fondness, your hands tightening where they rest around Taesan’s shoulders. “Yes. I like you a lot.”

“I also like you a lot.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “You already mentioned that part.”

Taesan still looks nervous, hands clearly fumbling as he decides whether or not it’s okay to touch you. “So…what now?”

You inch forward, slowly minimizing the already small distance between the two of you. It’s close enough that you can feel Taesan’s shaky breath, warm as it fans your face. He goes a little cross eyed as he tries to maintain eye contact, clearly still startled at the newfound close contact.

“Now you kiss me.”

There’s a brief hesitation, the tiniest moment in which Taesan’s eyes flicker down to your lips before meeting your gaze once more. But then, he immediately surges forward to close the distance between you two, his soft lips blanketing yours. It’s a timid, chaste kiss that only lasts a few seconds before he pulls away.

“Taesan,” you whisper, as if not wanting the words to escape the cocoon that you have created with your bodies. “Kiss me again.”

And he does. He kisses you again and again until your hands travel to his cheeks, keeping him in place. It allows you to kiss him deeper, savoring the warm feeling of his mouth on yours.

Despite his shy nature, Taesan seems anything but inexperienced as he finally relaxes into the kiss. His hands slowly migrate from the arm rests to your hips, hands smoothing along the fabric of your jeans. He strikes a comfortable balance between the gentle way he kisses and the firm groping of your body.

Just when you start to lose yourself in the feeling, he pulls away, leaving both of you panting.

“Wait, Y/N…let me play you another song.”

With a little bit of shuffling and clicking, Taesan finds the audio file he's looking for, kiss-swollen lips settling into a satisfied grin. He leans back to observe you as he presses play, letting a melody flow through the speakers.

You're my girl

And that's alright

If you sting me, I won't mind

'Cause you're my girl

And that's alright

If you sting me, I won't mind.

.FIN.

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor fluff #bnd #han taesan #han taesan imagines #written in the stars

356 notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 9 months

Text

*screaming*

*continued screaming*

Okay. So. My introductory Visual C# class.

The professor for that class was Alice. Alice was the person who spoke in the introductory video and the person who we were supposed to email if we had any issues.

But all of the assignments, lectures, and quizzes were written and delivered by Bob. On the youtube channel "Bob's programming academy." The quizzes included Bob's name, like "if you do X will it return the string ProfessorBob, Professor, Bob, or Professor.Bob?"

This class was really frustrating for me because it was structured in such a way that you could easily pass the class with zero knowledge of the subject - it was totally based on quizzes that you could take an unlimited number of times and we *had* weekly programming assignments but they weren't graded so there was no incentive to do them (and look, if I wanted to teach myself programming with no incentives I could fail for several years to do that on my own, I don't need to pay fifty bucks a unit for that; the reason I am in a *class* and am not self-taught is because I need external motivation. That's why I sought out a class).

Also when there *was* a problem with an instruction that was unclear in one of the videos for the assignments, or if I thought I'd done something correctly that was very much incorrect, it wasn't Alice who had created the instructions, it was Bob - in 2017 no less - and I didn't really feel like I could ask Alice for help with an ungraded assignment that she hadn't written.

So. Now. My Python class.

Today is the first day of class. Professor is Charles.

I go to the mandatory attendance quiz and it is word-for-word the same mandatory attendance quiz as the C# class, down to the final question "what is your personal email address so I can keep in contact with you after the semester?"

I look at the syllabus.

Class grade is based on quizzes. We have assignments but none of them are graded. There's no textbook, just a series of videos from Professor Bob's Programming Academy.

So I'd been toying with staying at this school and trying to take more CS classes instead of going to another school, just to try to keep my records easier to manage, but since it seems like that *ENTIRE DEPARTMENT* is five Professor Bobs in a trenchcoat, I will probably be going somewhere else (and once again trying to force myself to do projects that I already know are *good for me to do* but *useless for the class and a massive time suck*)

I should drop this class. I should drop this class and apply for the other school so that I can start taking classes there in the spring because if I take this class and then go into the object oriented programming class in the spring and it's another professor bob sock puppet and I end up taking twelve units of programming classes where all I learn is how to google answers in a short time frame (something I already know how to do thanks) I am going to fucking lose it.

Also, again: I have a Bachelor's Degree. I spent five years at a community college when I was getting that degree. I took probably a dozen online classes starting in 2005 and going until 2011 in the process of getting that degree.

THIS bullshit, this "I'm your professor but actually I'm not and all the materials were created by someone else in the department or came directly from the textbook publisher and there is no writing and there are no assignments everything is multiple choice quizzes that are automatically graded" is *dogshit.*

This is NOT how online classes worked back in my day, not even online math classes, and as much as I know adjuncts are getting fucked over by academia in general, this isn't something that these professors should be getting paid as much as they are to do. Alice checked whether or not students turned in a hello world assignment and gave a pass/fail grades for three discussion boards that were responses to youtube videos. Nothing else in the class required her input. If this is the level of instruction that students are getting then the class is already automated and the students shouldn't have to pay for it.

This is crap. This is an incredible level of crap.

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superhaught · 6 months

Text

I Mean It Different Than You Do

Pairing: Leighton x Reader

Warnings: surgery recovery, pure fluff

Word Count: 2500

Anonymous Asked: Hi! Could i please request a Leighton x fem reader that’s kind of based on the episode of slocg where Kimberly has her surgery and the Kansas guy takes care of her and she thinks hey only thinks of her like tiny Tim lol but instead it’s with Leighton x reader and leighton takes care of a sick reader and finds out that they have feelings for each other and it’s full of fluff! Sorry if this is confusing lol

Took inspiration from Reneé's song "I Do" as well.

Leighton and reader are best friends. Leighton helps reader through their wisdom tooth surgery.

You had found a friend in a very unlikely person.

The first time you noticed her, she was trying to get drunk off of tiny disposable cups of wine while volunteering at the Women’s Center open mic night.

The second time you noticed her, she was sitting down in the seat in front of you in your spring semester astronomy class.

After working on a class project together, you discovered that she was actually a very sweet person underneath her designer clothes, perfectly straightened blonde hair, and chilly attitude. You became fast friends over that second semester at Essex and ended up spending a lot of time together outside of class.

You watched as Leighton Murray grew more and more comfortable with her sexuality over time. As her friend, you supported her exploration of being out and were there for her throughout the ups and downs of her relationships with Alicia and Tatum.

You invited her over to your off-campus apartment when she needed some time to decompress from Essex life. You watched movies together almost every weekend. You forced her to experience some natural New England beauty with brief hiking trips and lake days.

She brought you to parties, took you along shopping and out for lunch and dinner, and earnestly tried to get you more involved in the dating scene. Leighton even set up a dating app profile for you once and you just giggled and said, “I don’t want to meet someone through an app!”

She rolled her eyes at you, “I give up! Don’t you want to start seeing people?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “I feel like I have everything I want right now.”

“How are we so different?” the blonde mused, turning her attention to her own phone, which was constantly blowing up with messages. “Well, whatever. I’m not going to force you to date just for the sake of it, but I feel like you’re missing out.”

You didn’t say anything in response. You were reading in your bed and Leighton was laying next to you comfortably. You were holding a highlighter in between your teeth and occasionally shifting so that you could annotate in your book. You had noticed that Leighton had been glancing over at you a few times but you didn’t say anything about it.

She flipped her phone to face you at some point, showing you an instagram post announcing an upcoming Theta party, “wanna go?”

You looked at the date of the party and frowned, shaking your head, “can’t. I’m sorry, Leight. I’m getting my wisdom teeth out that day.”

“Aw shit, really? That sucks…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m going to need the weekend to recover. Actually, I was going to ask you if I could get your help with a ride to and from the dentist but you should go to the party so don’t worry about it.”

“No, I'd love to help! You think I’d rather be hanging out in the rancid Theta house than eating popsicles and binging Housewives with my best friend?”

You laughed, “Well I don’t know, would you rather hang out with me after getting wisdom tooth surgery than go to a party and potentially meet a hottie to spend the night with?”

Leighton smirked at you and shifted a little bit closer to you in the bed, leaning her head on your shoulder, “nah… lately, you’re the only hottie I’ve been wanting to spend my time with.”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted.

“I’m being serious, dumbass.”

You both looked at each other for a moment. You were thrown off by her words, surely she didn’t mean…

“What are you reading, anyway?” Leighton asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh, nothing too exciting…” you go on to tell her about the assigned reading you were doing for your poetry class and she listened to you, letting the awkwardness of the earlier conversation fade away.

Leighton hung out at your apartment, enjoying the ability to do her homework in the easy quiet with you rather than amidst all the chaos of the dorms and her suite. You ordered take out and watched a show on your laptop and then she reluctantly got ready to leave to go home for the night. She was packing up her tote bag and then you just blurted it out, “stay.”

She looked up at you, “huh?”

“You could just stay. You don’t have to go back to campus, if you don’t want to, I mean. Like, I’m not kicking you out.”

“Are you saying that I don’t have to go, or are you asking me to stay?”

“Are those two different things?”

She nodded, “yes.”

You took a deep breath, “then… I’m asking you to stay, I guess. I don’t want you to go. Sleep over.”

Leighton smiled and let go of her bag before joining you on the bed again, “okay, let’s watch another episode then.”

You ended up watching another two episodes of tv, eating microwave popcorn in bed and laughing over stupid things.

Life was easier with Leighton.

Your neck was hurting you. You blinked a few times then realized that you and Leighton had fallen asleep cuddled up with each other and left the laptop playing the show. You were now staring at the screen that read “Are you still watching?”

You shifted your body slightly, trying not to wake Leighton up. She moved and you thought you had woken her but she just sniffled slightly and hugged you a little tighter. You carefully got rid of your laptop and adjusted yourself in the bed so that you could lie down fully and Leighton came with you, sleeping on her side with her head tucked into the crook of your neck.

You smiled and pulled the blankets over you both, then turned off your bedside lamp and fell back to sleep with Leighton in your arms.

Leighton had woken up that following morning with a cute smile and said, “that was the best sleep.” The blonde pressed a quick peck of a kiss to your cheek before she got out of the bed and went to the bathroom. She didn’t bother closing the bathroom door all the way. You glanced over at her while she looked in the mirror and fixed her hair.

You didn’t talk about any of it and you didn’t know what to think. Leighton was your best friend. She didn’t have feelings for you. She would’ve said something by now. This was just what it was like to have a close friend, you assumed.

The rest of your week was fairly standard. Classes and homework sucked up your time, but you and Leighton had developed a routine that you always stuck to. You met at Sips for coffee on Monday afternoons. You ate dining hall lunch together on Tuesdays and Fridays. You walked to astro and sat together every Wednesday, and hung out at your apartment Wednesday nights before going to the observatory for your nighttime astronomy assignments.

And in all that time, you never once discussed the cuddling, or the little kiss, so you convinced yourself that you were overthinking it and tried to let it go.

When Friday came around, Leighton had shown up outside of your apartment building that morning with one of the fancier Ubers generously paid for by her father ready to take you to and from your surgery.

You came outside wearing comfy clothes and she smiled and opened the car door for you.

She then got into the car on the other side and sat next to you, “I already went shopping and got everything I thought you might need this weekend to recover and I have a ton of low-energy-investment plans to make sure you don’t get bored. I’m going to stay with you for as long as you want me to, unless I drive you crazy, of course, but-”

“Leight, you didn’t have to do all of that…”

“It’s nothing! I want to take care of you.”

“You do? Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “cause I want to, why else?”

“I… I don’t deserve you, Leighton.”

“Oh, shut up. That’s not true,” she paused for a moment then said, “you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“I love you too…”

Leighton waited with you until you were taken back to be prepped and put to sleep for your wisdom teeth extraction. The last thing she said to you was, “I’ll have my camera ready for when you come out of the anesthesia!”

You stuck your tongue out at her angrily as you were whisked away and went unconscious while imagining seeing her face when you woke up again.

You woke up in a different room, lying down flat on a recovery bed. You felt weird but not particularly bad.

Your vision came into focus slowly and the blonde was sitting in a chair beside the bed scrolling through her phone. You made a noise and she turned and looked at you, “hey there,” she said softly, sliding herself and the chair a little closer to you, “how are you feeling?”

Your mouth was all swollen and your head was all wrapped up with ice packs on either cheek. You mumbled, “fine.”

She smiled, “the dentist said everything went well so you should expect a pretty easy recovery.”

You nodded slowly then looked at her quizzically and mumbled, “do I look pretty?”

Leighton laughed, “do you look pretty? Well, I’ll admit that you’ve had better days but you’re still your gorgeous self, why?”

“I dunno… I thought maybe I wouldn’t be pretty anymore… all swollen…”

“You have nothing to worry about, trust me.”

“You’re so nice, Leighton… some people think you’re mean but you’re not mean you’re so nice… and you’re gay and I love that about you…”

Leighton shook her head and laughed and just held your hand gently while you rested and came back to your senses over the next half hour or so.

Leighton helped you to the car and let you lean against her on the drive back, then she helped you get comfy in your bed and made a little station nearby with drinks and foods that were safe for you to have, and pain meds if you needed them.

She got into bed next to you and fired up Netflix before saying, “you can cuddle against me, whatever is comfy for you.”

You nodded and said, “thank you, baby…”

She raised an eyebrow at your word choice but didn’t say anything. You watched Netflix for a little while but you eventually dozed off against Leighton’s shoulder. You vaguely felt her playing with your hair and scratching your scalp lightly while you rested. You let out a pleased hum and cuddled against her even more closely.

She gently woke you up later and quietly said, “I can hear your stomach growling, wanna eat something?”

You took a second to process what she was saying but then you nodded and she grabbed a cup of applesauce for you.

You took it happily and started to eat carefully, wincing slightly at the experience but feeling happy to have some food.

“You’re the best friend ever,” you began, “taking care of me like this… seeing me in such a pathetic state.”

“I wouldn’t call you pathetic, not at all. You’re cute.”

You groaned slightly.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You shook your head, “no, no… it’s nothing, nevermind.”

She lightly poked you in the side and made you giggle, “come on, now. You can tell me anything. Is something wrong?”

You were quiet for a minute, thinking. Overthinking. Playing your entire friendship with Leighton back in your head.

“I see those gears turning, what are you thinking about?”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to take care of me,” you finally stated.

Leighton looked concerned, “What? Why not? Am I bugging you?”

“No!” You exclaimed, “no… you’re perfect… that’s the problem.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You’re so perfect. So perfect. And incredible. And beautiful. And I think I’m an idiot.”

“An idiot? You’re not an idiot… I’m lost, babe, what is this about?”

“I’m so stupid,” you sighed, “you’re never not going to see me as more than a friend are you?”

Leighton stared at you.

“I don’t want to be cute,” you tried to explain, “I don’t want to be just cute to you… I want more… but I’ve gone and fucked it up…”

Leighton started to understand and nodded slowly, “okay, first of all, I just want to state for the record that you have some pretty serious painkillers in your system right now, but with that being said, you haven’t fucked anything up… why would you think that?”

You started to tear up, you couldn’t help it, “you’re never going to like me now… not after seeing me like this. I took too long trying to figure out my feelings…”

Leighton’s brows furrowed, “I like you plenty, this doesn’t change that… wait, what feelings?”

“My feelings… for you… you’re my best friend, Leight… and I thought that was just how it was always going to be… but I think it’s more than that for me and I just didn’t realize and it’s too late…”

Leighton took a deep breath in through her nose and spoke softly, “it’s not too late…”

You looked up at her face and saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“It’s not too late,” she repeated, “not for you and me… I’ll wait for you forever. I’ve been waiting for you to be ready…”

“Leighton… what?”

“I love you, you incredible, oblivious sweetheart.”

You were genuinely shocked, and your reaction was only amplified by how loopy you were feeling, “what?! You love me?! Like, love, love me?”

Leighton laughed, “yes. I thought I was being obvious!”

“You love me?!” You exclaimed again.

Leighton wrapped her arms around you in a hug, “I love you. Are you trying to say that you have feelings for me, too?”

“Yes! That’s what I’m trying to say… I love you, too, Leighton. I really love you. More than a friend. I want to kiss you and I want to be your girlfriend. I don’t want you to go on dates with anyone else. I want to cuddle with you every night. I want you.”

Leighton’s smile was the biggest you’d ever seen it, “that’s what I want, too.”

You looked at her and then your face fell into a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t kiss you!”

Leighton laughed lightly, “that’s okay. We’ll kiss when you’re all better, but for now…” she leaned in and gave you a kiss on your forehead, “there.”

You smiled and nuzzled against her, cuddling closely once again, and whispered, “I love you, Leighton.”

“I love you, too.”

#leighton murray #leighton x reader #tslocg #sex lives of college girls #renee rapp #leighton murray fanfiction #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing #anonymous request #writing requests

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Math for Aviators | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: It's your fault that Bradley finds math so sexy now. When he surprises you by sneaking into one of your lectures, he gets rewarded with a little time alone with the professor after class.

Warnings: Fluff, swears and smut

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Check out my masterlist

"See you two at the Hard Deck later?" Nat asked as Bradley climbed into the Bronco after work.

"Nah, it's my wife's late night on campus," he replied with a smirk. Calling you his wife had such a nice ring to it, he had all but stopped using your first name around his friends. "I'm gonna drop by. Maybe take a peek at her calculus lecture."

She rolled her eyes in response. "Tell your wife I said not to forget about brunch on Saturday."

"I'll let my wife know."

He zipped out of the parking lot, still in his khaki uniform, and headed across town to San Diego State University. If there was one thing Bradley never thought would get him going, it was math. But you made it outrageously sexy with your PhD and your slutty little math tattoo.

The fact that Bradley never got to attend one of your lectures during your first semester teaching in California felt like a crime. He'd wanted to, in the worst way, but your classes ended by six o'clock every day last term. But this time, you taught level four calculus on Thursday evenings.

He parked and headed toward your building, smiling as some of the college aged girls looked at him as he strolled past. If they thought he looked good in his uniform, that was nothing compared to the fuss you usually made over him.

Bradley followed a kid holding a skateboard into the mathematics and computer science building and turned left. He was only four minutes late for your class as he followed skateboard kid inside the lecture hall and let the door close softly behind him. The room was quite cavernous, but there were only about forty students in attendance. You always claimed you preferred the smaller classes so you could spend more time getting everyone where they needed to be individually.

When his eyes met your body, Bradley almost moaned. You were leaning over the long table at the front of the room taking attendance, and you were wearing a white blouse tucked into that wool skirt he liked. Even your loafers looked cute. One of his favorite pastimes was picking on you for your east coast wardrobe, but holy shit, the professor look did things to him. Or maybe it was just you.

As you called out names, Bradley realized he was just standing in the back like an idiot, so he walked up a few rows and took an aisle seat.

"Francis?" you asked, and a girl who looked extremely disinterested raised her hand. "Luca? Alex? Did I miss anyone?"

When you looked up, your eyes found Bradley's almost instantly. The softest smile graced your lips, and Bradley desperately wanted to run down to where you were standing and kiss you. Instead he just winked, and then you were opening two additional notebooks on your table.

"Before we get started, just a reminder about my office hours," you said, your voice projecting beautifully. Bradley had to adjust himself in his seat, because you were speaking right to him. "I'm always available to spend a little extra time with you should you need it."

He was well acquainted with your office and the way your voice echoed off the walls when he made you scream his name. He would make it a point to join you for some office hours again soon. But right now, he was going to sit back and enjoy how much smarter you were than him.

"If you recall last week, we talked about the theorems of Green and Stokes. Let's focus a little more on the Green theorem. This is simply the relationship between the macroscopic circulation around the curve C and the sum of all the microscopic circulation that is inside C."

Bradley was already breathing a little heavy. Holy shit. Was he actually married to the smartest person in the world? It fucking sounded like it. And then you ran your fingertips gently along the side of your neck, and he sat up a little taller in his seat. But so did skateboard kid who was sitting in front of him. Bradley glanced around the room, and it looked like all the twenty something guys were hypnotized by you. The looks of open adoration on their faces as you turned toward the white board to work out a problem reminded him of the way he used to stare at you when he was twenty one. If he was being honest, he probably still did.

As you worked out the problem and bent at the waist, Bradley needed to adjust himself again. And when you turned to see if anyone had a question, you looked directly at him as you touched your neck again.

"She's so hot," skateboard kid whispered to the guy next to him.

"Yeah," he grunted in response. "She's like extra hot today."

Bradley leaned forward, grinning and softly said, "That's my wife."

They both turned around to look at him briefly. Skateboard kid nodded in appreciation, and the other guy said, "Well done."

And then Bradley settled back in his seat and watched every move that you made. When you wrote out another equation in your tidy handwriting, you made the variables spell out B-E-E-R-B-O-Y. Every time you glanced at him, your fingers were touching your body somewhere that he was familiar with. He was itching to get his hands on you.

It was an hour and a half of pure sexual tension, and Bradley knew you were enjoying yourself. Knowing he was sitting in the lecture hall seemed to be making your voice a little breathy. You were throwing out terms like "gradient, divergence curl, line and surface integrals, and differential equations" that were making him hard. This was foreplay at its finest.

When you ended your lecture with some reminders about your class schedule, you had your hands on your hips, and your diamond ring was glittering on your hand. Bradley smirked as a line of students, mostly male, formed in front of you once you dismissed everyone. And now he understood why you got home so late on Thursdays. Because all these guys had a crush on you. On his wife.

Bradley was semi hard, and you kept glancing up to make sure he was still there. He wasn't going to go anywhere, you must know that. When you were finally helping skateboard kid with whatever question he fabricated just to have a chance to stand next to you, Bradley glanced down at his lap. Maybe you'd let him have some private office hours right now.

When the lecture hall was finally empty, save for the two of you, Bradley watched as you continued to tease him. You didn't glance to where he was sitting at all as you packed up your bag. And when you erased the board, he could tell you were standing on your tiptoes to make your ass look extra enticing just for him.

"Professor Sugar," he groaned, rubbing himself through his khaki pants.

You glanced at him over your shoulder with a devilish look on your face. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to my lecture?" you asked quietly, but he could still hear you perfectly.

Bradley grunted. "Got dismissed a little early. Just thought I'd surprise you."

"Did you learn anything new?" you asked, grabbing your bag from the table and heading his way.

"Nothing new," he replied. "Just a refresher course on how smart and hot my wife is."

You smiled as you set your bag down next to his seat. "I love it when you call me that." Then you came to stand between his spread thighs and leaned down to kiss him gently. Bradley let you tease him with feather soft kisses for a minute before he was aching inside his pants.

He ran his rough hand along your pretty neck and asked, "Can I join you for some office hours? I really need them, Professor Sugar." When you giggled against his lips, Bradley wrapped his muscular arms around you and palmed your ass, pulling you onto his lap with a squeal.

"Beer Boy!"

"Please? I'll be your top student, Baby. Better than that loser with his skateboard."

"You know, I'm starting to suspect that Luca might have ulterior motives for taking my class again this semester."

Bradley chuckled as he pushed your skirt up your thighs a few inches. "Yeah. His ulterior motive is your ass." Then he lightly slapped said ass as you raked your fingers through his hair and straddled him in the auditorium seat. "I know you can feel me, Sugar," he whispered. "Office hours? Or are you gonna make me wait until we get home?"

But instead of responding, you just rubbed yourself against him. If you weren't wearing panties, he would have a pretty, little wet spot to show off as he walked back to the Bronco. You tugged harder on his hair so his head was tipped back, and you kissed him a little rougher.

"I'm in charge in the lecture hall, not you. And I say no visit to my office."

Bradley groaned as you sucked on his neck, and he muttered, "Making me walk back to the Bronco hard?"

"No," you whispered, and his cock throbbed. "I'm going to suck your cock right here." Your smug smile as you pulled away from his neck left him blushing, he could tell.

"Right here?" he asked, but your hands were already working on his belt buckle and zipper, and he lifted his hips in the seat so you could yank his pants down a little bit.

"Mmhmm," you hummed against his lips before you walked to the back of the auditorium, leaving him sitting there with his hard cock out.

"Sugar?" he whispered, covering himself with both hands as he craned his neck to see where you went. You flipped the lightswitch next to the door and peered out the small window into the hallway, and then you strolled back to where he was sitting. Bradley let you take his hands in yours and set them on his thighs as you knelt on the floor in front of him.

You looked so pretty, your skin illuminated by the soft lighting shining around the perimeter of the room. Your eyes were bright and mischievous as you looked up at him and kissed the precum away from his tip. Your pink tongue darted out to clean your lips before gently swiping the underside of his cock, and Bradley had to grip his thighs to keep from thrusting. Because it was clear you were going to take your time right now.

"You are so hard, Beer Boy, you're absolutely throbbing."

When you took an inch or two between your pouty lips, Bradley's head tipped back. "I love math," he groaned. "It really gets me going. And I love your smart mouth."

You hummed around his length as you took another inch and swirled your tongue. Then you pulled him out with a soft pop, his head snapping back up to look at you. "You're such a good student," you whispered. "Top grades. Teacher's pet. Big cock."

"Fuck," Bradley grunted. "I'm coming to your lecture every week, Professor."

You smiled as you gripped him in one hand and licked up and down along the underside of his cock until he could feel your saliva dripping down his balls. He ran his thumb along your cheek, and then you took him deep so he could feel himself there. He groaned your name as he tapped the back of your throat, and you gagged for him. It was so fucking pretty the way he made your eyes water.

If you weren't concerned about getting caught, then he certainly wasn't going to bring it up. He'd be lying if he said the idea of a public blowjob wasn't adding to his arousal. Hell, he thought the way you and he went at it in the college library study room was hot, and that door had a damn lock. So this was next level.

Bradley grunted in the quiet room, and the acoustics made the sound carry. You were bobbing along his length, making obscene little noises, and he just couldn't take it anymore. His hands found the back of your head, and after one thrust, your moans echoed around the room.

"I love that sound," he growled, slowly fucking your face as you sucked on him. You kept eye contact with him as he started to come undone, his hips leaving the seat as he wanted more of you. Now you were gripping his thighs, ready to take his cum like a champ. He was there. He was right there. One more tap against the back of your throat. All your saliva dripping onto your blouse. It was everything.

He knew you already knew it, but he grunted, "I'm cumming," as he spurted into your mouth and down your throat. Gripping the back of your head, he fucked your mouth with shallow thrusts until he slumped back akwardly into the seat with a long groan that filled the room.

When you withdrew him, his cock was messy and you were grinning as you stuck out your tongue, showing off his load. "Gorgeous," he whispered with a smirk, watching you swallow him down before licking his softening length clean. "I love being the teacher's pet."

You giggled as you helped him get tucked back into his khakis. "I only suck the dicks of my students with the highest grades."

"Hey now. You're my wife. You better only be sucking my dick," he rasped as you stood up in front of him and shrugged.

"Then you better keep getting top grades, Beer Boy."

Bradley was obsessed with you. He quickly wrestled his belt into place as he followed the sway of your ass up to the auditorium doors. "I can't wait to see that skirt on the bedroom floor when we get home," he said as you pushed the door open. And there stood the janitor, about to enter the room to clean it. "Shit," Bradley grunted, still fiddling with his belt.

But you just waved and said, "Goodnight, Herman," as the janitor smirked at Bradley.

He didn't even bother with his belt after that. He just took your hand in his and walked with you to the Bronco, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you once your skirt was on the bedroom floor.

----------------------

This was written to celebrate the birthday of the lovely @mak-32 ! Beer Boy and Sugar wouldn't even exist without you, Mak! I hope you have the most wonderful day! Thanks for your help and the banner @beyondthesefourwalls

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bro-atz · 3 months

Text

daisy [flower garden — yeosang]

in which: you keep plucking daisy petals trying to figure out if yeosang liked you back.

pair: college student!yeosang/college student gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

content: angst, one sided crush(?), reader has little to no courage or faith, lowkey gives kkhh vibes oop, tiny plot twist that also lowkey hurt me

rating: PG/PG-13 | safe for work!

flower garden masterlist

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.

He loves me.

The petals of the daisy you plucked from the campus flower garden were scattered all over your desk as you waited for your professor. To pass time, you were playing this little game while having a specific person in mind.

Kang Yeosang.

He was in your department, and you practically fell in love with him from the moment you met him in your orientation group. You didn't try to have classes with him since you wanted classes that fit your schedule best, but you hoped and prayed that you would get at least one class together because that would give you the chance to actually talk to him. Four semesters later, and your wish finally came true. You had your chance, but you were still dragging your feet because you had no idea on how to talk to him.

The professor entered the lecture hall, and you immediately swept the pile of petals off your desk. You had to focus on the lesson, and you were doing a good job, but your eyes kept straying to the back of Yeosang's head. He was in one of the front rows, and you chose a row further in the back because you were scared of being forced to participate in class, and it also gave you the chance to sneakily glance at Yeosang instead of stare right at him if you sat behind him.

You definitely overthought where you should sit— and if you wanted any chance of being in a relationship with Yeosang, then you should've freaking sat right next to him or at least one seat off. However, you weren't bold enough.

Not yet, anyway.

Your chance came one lucky day when your professor announced the groups for the final presentations, and you were blessed with being in a group with Yeosang. After the professor announced the groups, everyone dispersed to find their groups, and before you could go to Yeosang, he came to you. You didn't even realize that he was standing right in front of you until he said your name.

"Oh my God— Hi!" you squeaked, your heart hammering rapidly in your chest.

"Hi," Yeosang greeted with a chuckle. "Did I scare you?"

"A little... I was preparing to walk to your seat, actually."

"Ah, I decided to come here since most of our group is near this area."

"Oh..."

The rest of the group assembled shortly thereafter, and you didn't get to talk to Yeosang after that for the rest of the day.

The group project was promising. You got to spend a lot of time with Yeosang. Granted, there were other people there, but at least you had the courage to sit right next to him when you all met in the library to work on the presentation.

While you would work, Yeosang's knee would touch yours, and his shoulder would brush past yours when he reached across the table for a textbook. And, as the group continued to meet up, you and Yeosang did get friendlier with each other. Originally, you knew that the accidental contact was nothing more than an accident, but the closer you got, the more time you spent, the more you started to think that maybe, just maybe, he liked you back.

You were able to put this theory to the test when it was just the two of you at a study session. It was raining cats and dogs that day, and you and Yeosang were the only ones who actually went to the library while the rest of the group decided to cancel.

"Damn... What should we do?" Yeosang asked you.

"Uh... Well, we can't work on the presentation... What about homework?"

"What, like a study date?"

Your heart rate shot up so quickly— study date?!

"A-A study date?" you asked him just to make sure you were hearing him right.

"Yeah, study date," Yeosang nodded. "Come on, let's go find a table."

You were frozen in place for a solid second before running after Yeosang. The two of you found a table almost immediately— no one wanted to come to the library when it was pouring rain outside— and got to work. Your heart was still beating at the speed of light when the two of you got situated. You were sitting across from each other since it made the most sense (after all, it was just the two of you), and you ended up burying your face in your textbook to try and focus and get your heart to calm down.

Honestly, you should've taken advantage of the situation, but you seriously lacked the courage to do anything. You studied as if you were the most studious student on the planet, and your heart would skip a beat when you saw Yeosang tilt his head up to look at you. You kept your gaze down, but you could tell Yeosang wanted to ask or say something. He ended up staying quiet the whole time, and as did you.

Some study date.

By the time the two of you started wrapping up to head home, neither of you said a word. The silence was killing you at that point.

"Did you get a lot of work done?" you asked Yeosang timidly.

"Yeah, but not as much as you," Yeosang said with a slight laugh. "You were so deep in the textbook I thought you were going to get sucked in."

The two of you shared light banter as you walked out of the library, and when you got outside, the rain had completely cleared. You said goodbye to him, the two of you heading in opposite directions. Along your walk, you saw fresh daisies sparkling as the sun hit the tiny drops of water remaining on the petals. You smiled and let out a small breath. Things would work out for you and Yeosang— you had faith that things would work out.

The day of the presentation arrived, and you had yet to make a move on Yeosang. Time was running out, the end of the semester was nearing, and you desperately needed to tell him before you went back to hardly ever seeing him again.

You decided to say something after the presentation. You knew that if you did it before, and if he rejected you, you'd be a complete mess in front of the entire class. You were still nervous as hell for the presentation because you gave yourself the added pressure of confessing, but anxiety was better than depression (in your humble opinion).

The presentation went well, thankfully. You returned to your seats once you were done, and you barely paid attention for the rest of class because you were rehearsing in your head what you were going to tell Yeosang. You were so in your own head, in fact, that you completely missed that the professor dismissed the class. It was when people around you started filing out of the lecture hall did you realize you had to leave fast so you could catch up to Yeosang.

"Wait, Yeosang!" you called out before he could turn the corner.

Yeosang stopped and turned around. He shot you a small smile before walking towards you.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I... I wanted to tell you something. Do you have time to chat?"

You and Yeosang ended up going to one of the clearings in between the different buildings on campus. You both sat on one of the benches while facing each other. You seriously weren't able to bring yourself to make eye contact with Yeosang, but after balling your hands into fists and huffing slightly, you looked up at him.

He looked so beautiful like a Greek statue, and you felt all of the wind get knocked out of your lungs. How on Earth were you going to get the goddamn words out of your mouth to tell him that you liked him, this angel, this ethereal being before you.

"So, I... Um..." you started— you had to start somewhere. "I've been wanting to... Uh... To tell you something..."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I... I... So, we've... Fuck, I'm sorry," you sighed and buried your face in your hands. "I can't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Tell you that I like you."

The words flew out of your mouth before you even had time to process his question. You shot your head up in surprise, only to bury your face in your hands again, your face practically on fire because of the embarrassment.

You thought Yeosang was going to say something, but a few beats of silence passed, and neither of you said anything. You looked up to see that his face was slightly fallen, that his eyes were downcast, that he looked guilty.

"I... I wish I knew earlier."

What? What was that supposed to mean?

"I wasn't sure if you, um... If you felt the same way about me," Yeosang said slowly. "So I didn't say anything... I thought the study date thing would help me figure out how you felt, and you were so engrossed in your studies that I figured you didn't like me the same way."

You were still speechless. All you could do was stare at Yeosang, your mind pulling blank after blank as you tried to understand what he was saying.

"I'm dating someone else..."

There it was. Your soul was absolutely crushed. Sure, if he didn't have the same feelings as you, then you would've just been sad over a one-sided love. This was so much worse— especially because you could see the pain on Yeosang's face.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." Yeosang uttered as he stood up. "I'm so sorry..."

With that, Yeosang left, and you remained on the bench motionless, empty.

He loves me. He loves me not.

He loved me...

flower garden masterlist

flower garden taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @khjoongie98

networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

#codn: spring 24 #atzhouse #cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #newworldnet #wonderlandnet #ateez #kang yeosang #yeosang angst #yeosang x reader #yeosang x gn!reader #ateez yeosang #kang yeosang ateez #yeosang ateez #kang yeosang angst #broatz #flower garden series #flower garden ateez #Spotify

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

Note

I went scrolling through anti ao3 tags and blogs because I was bored and not doing the shit I need to do and you know for a group of people who every year twice a year throw such hissy fits you’d think they’d at least have a point, but all their arguments make no sense(except their one main one that they almost never use?--why??) Like ok, there is one argument for why people shouldn’t give money to ao3, and that is the argument that ao3 is bad website because it has bad policies and refuses to moderate. I disagree, but ultimately if someone thinks that ao3 should update the TOS and moderate what fan fiction they allow, it makes sense that that person would be against the site making money because… well they are against the sites founding principles, I’m not shocked they don’t want it to succeed.

But the rest of the arguments!? Man they make no sense at all

“They are scamming you there is no way they need that much money”, ”its immoral to give money to ao3 because they already have so much!”, “Even if ao3 was perfect, its ridicuslous to give 100K to a fan fiction site!” — like… maybe I’m the asshole here, but ao3 made about 250,000 this spring, so they make about 500,000 a year… that’s just not that much money! That could what, pay for 10-30 employees at best! And that’s not counting the actual cost of all the shit they currently spend their money on! I get that ao3 is run by unpaid volunteers so antis think that 500K is a lot, but that’s not true! That’s not a lot of money at all! It might be a lot of money for an individual but for a company that’s practically pennies. Wikipedia, which granted is a lot bigger than ao3, with 57,218,269 pages to ao3s 6 million works, makes 155 million to ao3 500,000. According to antis ao3 has over a million in reserve and well according to wikipedia they have net assets of US$240 million. One is clearly more than the other!

I saw someone say that servers should be 1K, which is so stupid and out of touch with eveything I almost died laughing. I had a project using firebase this semester, I created 2 projects within firebase one for my school project and one to dick around and figure out. I accidentally set my test database to a “pay as you go” version instead of a free version. And almost had to pay a thousand dollars for the month! I wasn’t even using that database it was just sitting there but I check my google billing to make sure I wasn’t paying anything and it turns out I was! 150 dollars actually so that sucks! (My fault though)

Also also I keep seeing that its ridiculous and evil to pay the much for a site that “doesn’t improve” but the “doesn’t improve” is referring to A) no changes in TOS, which I don’t want to happen any way so good. B) the fact that it’s still in beta, which I don’t give a fuck about and I don’t understand why I should care. I think antis are dont like that the layout hasn’t changed but I don’t want to the layout to change. Also things come out of beta because they are a commercial product to be sold(this is very simplified), which is why some things come out of beta to waaaay to early and are glitchy as all hell! Ao3 isn’t being sold to me its slowly being built and archiving things that would probably be lost, and it will probably technically be in beta forever, but it doesn't effect me and I don't care. Would it be better if it came out of beta only to continously updated like a lot other shit does. I don't really play video games but I know ppl that do so I know at least once a game came out that didn't really work and people needed to later update shit for it to function and I'd argue thats worse than a functional website just being in beta forever. C) The claim that it hasn’t changed at all, which is just not true! They added the exclude section and eventually added the blocking shit. The blocking took too long to come out, so I guess in this sea of dumb criticism theres at least 1 piece of critism that makes sense. And finally again I don’t want it to change! Every other week we are all bitching that Tumblr or YouTube or Instagram or any other app are needlessly changing the layout or adding shit we don’t want in order to keep up with latest trends, make it more marketable or try and attracted new users. Ao3 is great because its never going to change. Ao3 and Craigslist will always kinda look like ass and I’m ok with that. If it aint broke ¯_(ツ)_/¯

I could keep going but there is no point. I just think they are all so stupid.

The thing about beta is the funniest because AO3, like oldschool shit from the 90s, has actual criteria for coming out of beta.

It's not "we've been going for 10 years" or "we want to sell the product": it's "we've checked off all the things on this checklist".

And they still haven't done them all, so it's still in beta.

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cody-00 · 1 month

Text

This advice leaves me floored. If I read these panels a few years ago, who knows how my college journey could have gone.

A workshop class of mine had an assignment similar to the one in Blue Period where I had to discover a poetry collection of my liking. Then, I had to write a few poems in conversation with the author and a written response mixing analysis of the collection and the thought process behind my poems. Once that part was submitted, the class gave a brief presentation of their project. My confidence throughout the course was low for a few reasons. I've never been well-read in poetry but took an upper-level course out of necessity, thus being surrounded by smart, earnest, and more experienced peers. Furthermore, I knew a classmate secretly found me obnoxious towards the end of the previous semester in another workshop class, making me paranoid about whether I misread the quality of goodwill of my most basic actions and if many others felt a similar, justifiable distaste towards me.

Nothing felt quite right after sampling a list of collections recommended to me by my professor based on my style. I settled on one where some poems clicked, some didn't. Here's where the third reason for my insecurity kicked in: it was poetry within my home region—a place I have a complicated relationship with.

A hatred of where I grew up made the idea of escaping to an out-of-state college attractive, but lack of funds and merit landed me in an in-state university. Instead of being bitter about it, I changed my approach. I acknowledged that I was possibly an edgy young adult who needed a change in perspective from more like-minded people, leading figures, and academics within the region to truly appreciate my home.

That hunch still doesn't have a great answer (especially since I didn't follow my intended approach with as much determination as I should have), but my efforts led to a weird yet relevant consequence: the exposure to differing attitudes and perspectives from my own made me feel like an outsider to the very place I grew up in. Identifying and calibrating any of those people's attitudes and experiences with my own felt like a struggle, and knowing their prestige made me question the authenticity and accuracy of my self-concept. Putting my feelings into terms used by Blue Period, I feared that my perspective was no better than (and the same as) a tourist despite being a local my whole life.

The same self-skepticism crept in when analyzing my chosen poetry anthology. Inevitably, a fork in the road laid before me: do I express antagonism despite my ignorance in the field, the possibility of furthering distaste upon me amongst my peers in my resistance and implied negativity, and a cultural image that seemed so firmly established to where it threatened to undermine my own; or do I commit to an effort in understanding the work so deeply that it surrenders my ego?

The first option… I couldn't bring myself to do it… It felt too arrogant. All those fears compelled a conclusion that there must have been something wrong with me that needed to change. As a result, I tried to put myself in the poet's shoes by mimicking the collection's style. I thought that could have allowed something to click and, if not, I was at least maintaining respect for the poet.

My professor gave feedback on my submission. It's essentially the same idea Blue Period teaches and warns its readers about, with added salt to the wound of the implication that my presentation still hinted ambivalence despite not wanting to. Here's the screenshot:

Did Blue Period allow me to understand the meaning of my professor's advice? A final project for the course required revisions of a few poems of choice out of a variety written throughout the semester. I picked one of the poems from this assignment since a route for improvement looked clear. Despite understanding what my professor meant, the real possibility that those changes were motivated by catering to the one deciding my grade for the course erodes any confidence towards the ideal interpretation of substantiating a newfound maturity in my artistic approach. To clarify, I'm not criticizing my professor—the fact that she identified the repercussions of my problematic approach feels like a miracle. Yet, reading these recent Blue Period chapters let me go a layer deeper.

It's not a straightforward lesson, though. My story doesn't quite align with Yatora's, and identifying the differences allows me to learn from the story with more nuance. Yatora loves Bacon and knows more about him, contrasting with my attitude towards my poet of choice. More pressure was put on me in this regard, for there is a more unsavory aspect in criticizing a poet one has no real attachment towards versus one whom respect has already been made clear. My professor also notes a silver lining that comes with a willingness in trying learn from an author that one doesn't gel with.

Furthermore, Blue Period likes to show how complex and ambivalent navigating through the world of art can be, so I can't dismiss the possibility of the manga throwing a wrench in what seems to be one of the series' most straightforward lessons in a later chapter.

There's great comfort in being able to relate to something I thought was, if not nonexistent to others, left unsaid. Being able to capture this feeling is a testament to the realism in the manga's exploration of art and character work. Blue Period gives a reassurance and almost ironic realization that, even if I struggle to relate to stories near where I live, I can identify with even the most niche feelings and circumstances in stories on the other side of the world.

If I could have done things differently, avoiding antagonism still would've been the right choice, but I'd be looser in how I drew inspiration from my selected poet. Funnily enough, this stumble and the subsequent lesson could have been avoided. I initially disqualified a different recommended poetry collection (i.e., Obit by Victoria Chang) due to it only being accessible digitally. I read it a little before the course ended anyway and loved it. It's tough to call whether how things turned out was the most enriching path compared to a hypothetical scenario where I found and chose Obit instead, but I'd like to think so.

#blue period #yatora yaguchi #tsubasa yamaguchi #blue period manga #ryuji ayukawa #blue period 68 #blue period 67

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seungbinbin · 1 year

Text

me gustas means i like you

ch. 09 stay focused

warnings: she/her pronouns, cuss words, sad feelings and emotional whiplash 🤡

a/n: HELLO !! here’s this chapter, it’s written, and i’m quite proud of it methinks :) tell me your thoughts!

ch 08 || ch 09 || ch 10

masterlist

bini🫥: hey what if we do tutoring at ur place instead of the library? it’s closer to my apartment than campus

bini🫥: if ur comfortable of course!

[y/n]: oh, yeah! that’s fine :)

[y/n]: door’s unlocked you can just walk in !!

[y/n] knew, from the moment seungmin and felix had befriended her, that it was all a bad idea.

her study abroad semester was supposed to be a strictly-academic experience. she had told herself, promised, that she would be 100% focused in school and nothing else. no friends, no dating, nothing that could potentially distract or hurt her in the end. it was the smart thing to do; emotional ties would most certainly lead to disaster. what was she supposed to do when the semester was over? what if long distance didn’t work? what if people forgot about her? found someone better? the only logical solution was to stay away from it all.

but nothing about friendship was logical. it wasn’t formulaic, there was no way to avoid it. seungmin and felix had taken her in, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it. she should have said no when they asked her to hang out. she should have stuck to her plan, but she didn’t and now there were people she could hurt.

guilt had been consuming her slowly, steadily crawling its way into her heart and carving a hole in her chest. it was all a bad idea, she should have stayed away from the start. she should have said no and only talked about their project. how horrible of a person was she, to knowingly get attached to them, only to have to leave in the end?

bini🫥: i’ll be there in five !!

then there was changbin.

[y/n] had tried her best to stop it. she had tried to remind herself that her time there was short. she tried to remind herself that she didn’t have the time or the strength to deal with anything beyond friendship. she tried to distance herself from changbin and his charm and his way of making her feel like the most important girl in the world. yet all her efforts had proven futile, and she had no choice but to face her reality.

there was no more room in her heart for denial. she couldn’t blame her quick heartbeat on tutor jitters anymore. running away from her feelings would not make them any less true. this was real; her feelings for him were real. and that scared her more than anything.

“[Y/N]!” changbin’s loud voice interrupted her thoughts. “PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR, MY HANDS ARE FULL!”

she rolled her eyes and snorted; his presence always managed to make everything better.

when [y/n] opened the door, she found herself face to face with the boy that made her heart ache in more ways than one. he was smiling that smile that made his nose scrunch up, and if [y/n] didn’t feel as guilty as she already did, she would’ve kissed him.

“hola, mi vida.” another smile, another scrunch of the nose. god, she really did like him. “sorry, couldn’t open the door, hands are full.”

“binnie, why did you bring so many snacks? i have stuff here.” she stepped aside to let him in, watching him walk into her kitchen like it was his own.

“well i got stuff you like, i got stuff i like, and then i thought i could get new things we could try together-” changbin stopped talking abruptly, a frown settling in his features as he looked at her.

“why are you looking at me like that, what did i do?”

“mi cielo.” he walked over to her, buff arms stretched out and gentle hands reaching for her face. ‘“why is your nose red? are you warm? are you sick?”

“i’m okay.” she held his wrist as he felt her cheeks with the back of his hand.

“[y/n], are you sure?” he pushed her air back and away from her face, worried eyes staring into her own.

the softness of his voice and the kindness in his features made her eyes well up with tears. how was she supposed to explain this to him? how could she tell him she liked him, and that it would hurt them both at the end? how could she have done this to him?

“will you feel better if i did aegyo?”

of course, the most changbin thing to do was to try and make her laugh through her tears.

“i’d actually cry harder, please don’t.”

“you’re spending too much time with seungmin.” he let go of her face and frowned. she wanted him to hold her again. “he has corrupted you.”

“yes, yeah, whatever.”

“spend more time with me instead, i can un-seungmin you.”

“we’re spending time together right now.”

“it’s tutoring, it doesn’t count!”

“oh my fucking god, just get your snacks, we have shit to do!”

“and we can hang out after, yes?”

“yes! jesus fuck!”

taglist: @https-skzology @burningchaosdeer @tasteskz-sworld @soupbinlily @luvrhyune @cookielino @lethallyprotected @hwgyun @muddy-waters @astraystayyh @shincode @queermushy @hxked @grlkisser331 @sunnibearr @miassunpath @viviixlyy @officiallydarkgeek @sugrlamb @mxnsxngie @bbujiikseu @bloominglix @jvnscls @chaeniedup @foliea

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jjungkookislife · 1 year

Text

Quarterly Fic Recs 2023: #2

Hello! I am a little late with my list but between work and my laptop taking so long to even boot up, it’s been hard to do anything. I’ve enjoyed all these fics these past few months and I hope you enjoy them as well. A huge thank you to all the writers for sharing their work 💜

Seokjin

none :(

Yoongi

red chopsticks @hobicakess

summary: Now everytime you see chopsticks, you'll think of him.

beloved @bang-tan-bitches

summary: Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win

fear and dumplings ch. 1 @softyoongiionly

summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Hoseok

dinners & diatribes @yoongiphoria

Namjoon

the one with namjoon and the u-haul @eoieopda

summary: in which namjoon is buff, jungkook is late, & you're trapped in an elevator.

Jimin

blunt rotation @gimmethatagustd

summary: Supplying your law school classmates with weed on the regular might as well be a full-time job. It’s lucrative, but lately, you’ve seen a dip in profits. Maybe it’s because you keep giving out the Pretty Boy Discount to a certain guy in your ethics class…

Taehyung

none :(

Jungkook

jungkook with chubby girlfriend pt. 2 @ta3bae

calling you cool @kithtaehyung

summary: after your band finishes a coveted club gig, you’re frustrated that your dope ass night ends with you hiding in a bathroom stall. at least, this is what you figured—until someone comes along to change that.

prove it to me @kookslastbutton

summary: “I’m not your baby Jungkook. Remember that.” Those are the words you say right before jumping into a one night stand with Jeon Jungkook, the man who’s constantly annoying you with his college fling stories. You decide maybe just this once you’ll play into his game and prove that he’s no more average than the rest.

because i love you ch. 10 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

only when you’re lonely @jjkeverlast

summary: jungkook has never dated anyone, because of you and you’re soft touches that bring him to orbit. it’s all it’s ever been, just sex between you. although, it brings an unexpected turn when jungkook accidentally blurts you out as his girlfriend to his college friends which results in them expecting you to an upcoming party. what jungkook doesn’t know is that you’re much more than just someone he meets when he’s lonely.

OT7/ Multple Members

satisfy ch. 5 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do?

fang f*cker @sailoryooons

summary: Jungkook loves reading his smutty vampire comic and so what if he fashions himself a little bit after the main character. Yoongi finds it wildly offensive. Every day he has to watch Jungkook play at being ominous and spooky - and okay, maybe it’s a little cute. But it’s mostly offensive, and Yoongi would know. He’s a vampire, after all.

before i leave you ch. 51 @hollyhomburg

summary: you’ve never seen Namjoon this angry before, but you can’t say he’s not rightfully upset at You and Hobi. Not every punishment can go according to plan…

Seokjin

wrong place wrong time @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Why couldn’t the two of you have just waited until you got home?

smile @shuadotcom

summary: Kim Seokjin has been a professional tennis player for years. He has countless tennis trophies in his penthouse in South Korea and has won two grand slams. He’s even in talks to participate in the upcoming Olympics. He’s dated a handful of well-known people with no problem and is confident to the point of irritation to those around him.

the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky @eoieopda

summary: Kim Seokjin got really drunk on a members-night-out, so his fiancée has to pick his cute, clingy ass up.

i almost do @yoongiphoria

summary: You wipe the tears that have trickled down your cheek, collected below your nose. “I miss you, Seokjin. Can… can you come find me?”

the dogs of war @ugh-yoongi

moaning on stream @here4kpopfics

summary: You just want to sleep in a little bit longer, but your boyfriend has decided to play a frustratingly difficult game on stream. However, his frustration sounds a lot similar to something else…

my soul @peachypinkygloss

summary: No one said loving a vampire would be easy, especially not one who is tortured by his past and his present. Your love for him is eternal, even though you cannot be with him forever... Or can you?

flurious @miscelunaaa

summary: it’s fine, you’re not mad at your best friend at all! in fact!! you’re so fine that you’re going to work off some steam just to prove how fine you are!!

Yoongi

glorified memories @shina913

summary: Another late-night phone call with Yoongi.

Hoseok

all it takes @yoongiofmine

summary: After months of quietly pinning after Jung Hoseok, your friends decide to give you a little push. Sometimes a New Years Eve party and a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven is all it takes.

Namjoon

none :(

Jimin

none :(

Taehyung

one mo’ gen @bangtanintotheroom

summary: You find your ‘relationship’ with Taehyung escalating sooner than you expected.

up close and personal ^

summary: Taehyung thought he had seen it all with you, but you prove him wrong.

bear with me ^

summary: You have a special guest today, one of the fuzzy kind.

wedding bells @hyungieyoongi

E2L

Jungkook

just a little @soft4gguk

imagine @chryblossomjjk

summary: jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching tv shows. you, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind.

virgin sacrifice @girl8890

summary: Since the day you were born, your parents prepared you for your sacrifice. The whole village knew, and with that everyone stayed away from you. Thinking even just looking at you would make the demon in waiting mad. The demon that has been praying on you since birth, but not for what you expected.

tongue tied @jeonqkooks

summary: “Jeez, you’re acting like I asked to peg you or something.”

when it all falls apart @7deadlysinsfics

summary: what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on

OT7/Multiple Members

before i leave you ch. 53 @hollyhomburg

summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and jimin reach an agreement.

like crazy @euphoricfilter

summary: the story of why you loved to dance in the rain.

baby @theharrowing

summary: Jimin, aka Baby, doesn't let just anyone have him for free. What a shame that the man he likes spending time with the most is a cop.

red light - white walls @kookieswan

summary: Seokjin’s been away for a while, and it makes him wonder just how much he’s missed. Yoongi, thankfully, is surprisingly loose lipped.

Yoongi

busted @kithtaehyung

summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made.

OT7/ Multiple Members

sweeter than sweet @gimmesumsuga

summary: You never would have expected someone like Park Jimin to notice you. As handsome and beguiling as he is deadly, you’re enthralled from the very moment you meet. Addicted to his kiss and his bite, Jimin opens up your eyes to a whole new world of love, lust and seduction.

#jjungkookislife fic rec #jjungkookislife fic rec list #jjungkookislife fic rec masterlist

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gingerjunhan · 10 months

Note

Helloooo! Is anon 🌺 I miss being hereee, so I'm back I would like to do a fluff req, is about when XH found out their S/o crying for being so overwhelmed of their projects of the university, a little bit sad but let's gooo

Lysm 🩵🩵🩵

☆彡 🌺anon this one took me a while literally because of school. Ironic, I know. To all my college-age villains out there, make sure you take care of yourself as finals season approaches 🥲🩷

word count: 1771 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship, college au? | cws: crying, chemistry with Jiseok (can you tell I hated chemistry?), overall stress, xh being supportive boyfs 🫶🏻, eating mentioned w/ Hyeongjun, clingy Jooyeon agenda is back, lmk if I missed anything!

goo gunil

You swear you had been staring at this paper for hours. You had a research essay due tomorrow at midnight, and you couldn’t find a way to make your paper fit the required word count. No matter how much editing you did, the word count still seemed unobtainable. You let out a shaky sigh at your desk.

Gunil was across the room, folding and putting away laundry. He heard your sigh and turned your way.

“How’s your paper going, love? Do you need help?” You slowly turn around in your chair to look at him, with your bottom lip jutting out slightly and a very prominent frown on your face. “Oh, honey,” Gunil discards the shirt he’s folding and comes to your side, gently pulling you up from your chair and into an embrace. “What’s wrong, hmm?” You felt tears well up in your eyes as you clutched onto him, one of his hands running up and down your back soothingly.

“There’s no way I’ll be able to reach the word count for this paper,” you cried softly. “I feel like no matter how much I look up, I just keep finding the same information.”

Gunil nodded attentively as he listened to you. You had been talking about this paper for a while now, and you had spent a lot of time doing the research for it.

“How many more words do you need?” He asked.

You sniffled and pulled away from him slightly, looking at your laptop screen. “About 500 more.” You let out a defeated sigh, looking up at Gunil once again. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do…”

Gunil gently took you by the shoulders and leaned down slightly to be eye level with you. “What we’re gonna do,” he started, “is get your paper done. Let’s look through your notes together and see what you have. If you need more information, I’ll help you look for some, okay?” He wiped the tears that remained on your cheeks. “You’re so smart, (Y/N). I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you’ll be able to finish this paper and get a great grade.” You smiled at his kind words and took a seat in your chair again, preparing to show Gunil your notes with a newfound ambition to get your paper done.

kim jungsu

You hated group projects more than anything, so when you found out that your biggest grade for the semester would be a group project, you were anything but thrilled. Your group had decided to do their work for the day over video call, so you could all work from home. That was fine, until it turned into a little over an hour of you being the only one contributing ideas, and your other three group members goofing off or having WiFi issues. You closed your laptop and let out a huff, making your way out to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Hey,” Jungsu greeted as you walked past the couch, where he was currently doing some work of his own. “How was your meeting?” Instead of the response he was expecting, Jungsu was met with a loud, frustrated groan from the kitchen. He stood from the couch and made his way to you. “That bad, huh?”

“Our project is due in two weeks!” You began as you rooted through your cabinets for a glass. “We should at least know what we want to do our project on- but no! Nobody is coming up with ideas but me, and then nobody likes the ideas I come up with!” You filled your glass with water and then quickly began to drink it in an attempt to cool yourself off. Once you finished, you took a deep breath. “I just… need to take a break and think about something else for a bit.”

Jungsu smiled at you, “I know just the thing.” He grabbed you by your hand and pulled you back to the couch, pushing you into the soft cushions and laying on top of you. “Think about me instead,” he giggled, taking one of your hands and putting it on his head as an incentive to play with his hair. You laughed back and did what he pleased, running your fingers through his soft locks. As you cuddled with him, you could practically feel your stress melt away.

kwak jiseok

Jiseok was woken from his long awaited post-class dorm nap by a string of texts from you.

Jiseok

baby

when you have time can you please come to the library?

I feel like I’m going insane

He laughed to himself, giving you a quick reply that he’d be there soon. Eventually, Jiseok made his way into the library and found you in a study room, silently seething over a pile of papers.

“I’m here,” he called quietly into the room, shutting the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“I cannot get the answer to this chem problem right!” You ran your hands over your face. “I’ve attempted this problem three times and I don’t know where I went wrong in the process.” You turned to Jiseok with big puppy eyes, “Can you help me please?”

He chuckled at your attempt to beg him, knowing that he would’ve said yes without it. “Of course, baby.” He took a seat next to you at the table and looked over your papers. “I told you not to take this chem elective.”

“I know,” you admitted. “But at least I have my super sexy science boyfriend to help me,” your teasing tone made Jiseok laugh, pulling you in and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Keep talking like that, and I might just do the whole problem set for you.”

oh seungmin

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong,” you turned to Seungmin with tears in your eyes, showing him your newest grade in your writing class. “I followed the professor’s directions to a T and they still gave me a 60%. What did I do?” Seungmin pulled you into a tight hug, resting his head on top of yours.

“It’s okay, baby. Maybe you can talk to your professor about it.”

“Seungmin, if they don’t fix this grade, I’m gonna fail the class,” you spoke into his chest. “This paper was a huge percentage of my final score.”

You would hear Seungmin let out a small “hmm” as he thought about how to help you. You had made him read over your paper at least twice, checking it with the rubric to make sure it was perfect.

“What if,” he thought aloud. “We sit down and send your professor an email, asking them to look over it again or at least explain where you went wrong. That way, it’ll at least show that you care about your grade and passing the class.” You looked up at him with teary eyes, and he looked down at you, shrugging. “Just a thought.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, seeming like your only options now were to send this email, talk to your professor in person, or do nothing at all. “Okay,” you let go of his embrace, grabbing your laptop. “It’s worth a shot.”

He pulled away from you and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “That’s the spirit, baby.”

han hyeongjun

When Hyeongjun came home from practice to find you crying at your desk, he wasn’t really sure what to do.

“(Y/N)?” He came up to you at your desk, putting a soothing hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing-“ you said, quickly wiping your tears. “I’ve got it covered. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” He asks quietly. “I can help. Talk to me.”

You let out a sigh, “My workload for the end of this semester is crazy. I’ve been working for hours and I feel so burnt out, but I gotta get this assignment done.” You picked up your pencil again. “I’ll be fine, really. I just gotta tough it out.” As you began to work again, Hyeongjun looked at you with a frown.

“How long have you been working today?”

“I started around lunchtime.”

Hyeongjun looked out a nearby window. It was now dark outside. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” You shook your head. “Then let’s go eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Too bad.” Hyeongjun started walking away from you towards the kitchen. “You need to let yourself take breaks. Give me 20 minutes to make something quickly and then you can stop working for a while.”

You turned and looked at Hyeongjun, almost a little surprised. He was typically more gentle when it came to telling you to take care of yourself. He must’ve been able to see how stressed you were. He’s living proof that actions can speak louder than words.

You gave him a smile. “Thank you.”

“You’d do the same for me,” he smiled back.

lee jooyeon

The groan that echoed through your tiny dorm room probably could’ve been heard through your neighbors wall. You promptly closed your books and started putting your notes away. Across the small room, Jooyeon lifted his head off of your pillow.

“How’s the work going?”

You groaned again.

“Glad to hear it’s going well,” he joked.

“I don’t get it,” you complained. “What professor assigns a five page paper the week before finals start?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“It’s not like I’m stressed enough as it is!” You took a deep breath, and Jooyeon sat up on your bed, patting the space next to him on the mattress. You took the hint and sat next to him.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Jooyeon soothed, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re very smart, (Y/N). I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you’ll get this paper done.”

“I know,” you spoke, feeling a bit more calm now. “It’s just really stressing me out.”

Jooyeon nodded understandingly and started to gently rock you both back and forth. A silence fell over the two of you, and Jooyeon started to hum.

“I should be working,” you admitted, trying to break from his grasp.

“But I’ve been laying over here all alone for hooours,” Jooyeon whined. “Can’t you stay and cuddle for a little bit?”

“Jooyeon, I really need to get back to work.”

“Pleeeeease?”

“Jooyeon, I’d love to but I can’t.”

He thought about it for a moment. “When you finish your first page, let me know. We can take a break then. As a reward for all your hard work,” he smiled brightly at you, and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Okay,” you gave in. “We can do that.”

“Good! Now get to work! I wanna see that first page done asap!”

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #ot6

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jihyocentric · 1 year

Text

(it's unfinished but i'm too lazy to finish it so i'll just post it as it is)

differently from what one could expect, it’s nayeon that sees jihyo first.

the first time nayeon sees her, jihyo is a little too small for someone her age and nayeon wonders if this girl that roughly reaches her chin is really going to be in her class.

nayeon almost forgets she has a two years delay, and that every student was going to be smaller than her regardless, excluding a few boys and jeongyeon. but jihyo was particularly small, and nayeon was a fan of small things.

that’s why she ignores the fact that jihyo, the new student, sits right where her best friend would usually sit — which is next to her. she tells jeongyeon to sit behind them, reasoning herself before jeongyeon could argue that the place jihyo took was hers first.

“she’s new,” nayeon says, her arms crossed, decisive about sitting next to the new girl. “we don’t want to scare her, jeong. it’s just for today.”

perhaps nayeon was lying when she said she was only going to sit next to jihyo that day, because it happens on the next day and the day after that. for the rest of the semester, nayeon sits next to the new girl, leaving jeongyeon to sit next to sana for the rest for the school year.

they don’t exchange many words. the first time nayeon hears jihyo’s voice is during their first week sharing seats next to each other. it only comes a whole minute after nayeon says ‘hi, i’m nayeon’, because jihyo freezes and, until nayeon asks her if her name is jihyo, she doesn’t hear a sound from her.

nayeon knew some people were scared to approach her. her guess was that it happened due to her older age and popularity among seniors — the fact that nayeon was pretty also had a significant impact on the way many people, aside from jeongyeon and successively sana, didn’t have the courage to befriend her. but nayeon never did anything to change their perception of her.

it’s not that nayeon liked to be feared by a certain amount of students, but she liked being liked to the point where not a lot of people had the guts to talk to her. she was fine that way, really. nayeon didn’t mind having to start new friendships herself, and jihyo, particularly, didn’t seem like a hard one to approach.

they become friends without jihyo’s knowledge. it starts with projects nayeon chooses to do with jihyo over jeongyeon or sana — because it only made sense that she did it with her. they were paired up from the beginning, of course nayeon would choose her.

nayeon finds jihyo’s house rather cozy, making friends with jihyo’s mom and staying for dinner right on her first time there, much to jihyo’s surprise. nayeon doesn’t offer jihyo as much help as she should, but jihyo doesn’t mind it, quietly working on their project as she hears nayeon humming to a song, sketching on her notebook.

“you don’t talk much, do you?” nayeon pulls the colored pencil away from the paper, showing jihyo what she’d been sketching for the past hour. “it’s you.”

jihyo glances at the paper, where there was a cat drawn in three different positions. nayeon had been meticulously working on her drawing, and whenever jihyo changed positions on the bed she’d make a new sketch — the cat was sitting on a chair on the left side of the paper, lying on a bed in the middle and using what jihyo guessed was supposed to be the computer on the right.

“cute, isn’t it? my sister has been teaching me how to draw. i’m still pretty bad, can’t draw people yet...” nayeon sits properly on jihyo’s bed. “oh, i should be helping you!”

nayeon grabs jihyo’s notebook, reading her notes, the drawing long forgotten as she focuses on their project instead of leaving all the work for jihyo, who truly wasn’t expecting nayeon to do anything in the first place.

part of her wanted to tell nayeon to leave it for her, she was more than happy to do it herself as long as nayeon kept singing and drawing. she grew fond of nayeon’s voice and staring at her while she wasn’t looking made jihyo’s heart race, strangely enough. but jihyo wasn’t bothered by it at all.

jihyo had been nervous from the very beginning. since her parents decided to move away from the place she was raised in, it’s been just her and her parents, and receiving anyone home that wasn’t one of her parents’ friends was something entirely new, especially when it was im nayeon.

if jihyo was already nervous the moment nayeon decided to pair up with her, now that nayeon was sitting on her bed, mindlessly working on cute drawings and persuading her into talking with endless chatter, jihyo could barely breathe.

communication wasn’t her forte. with nayeon, jihyo forgets the words, then the syllables, followed by letters, and sometimes she catches herself answering nayeon’s questions with a sound a baby would make when they’re learning how to talk.

nayeon is understanding enough, and when jihyo fails to express herself, she makes questions that can be answered with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.

by the time nayeon is leaving, jihyo’s mom makes sure nayeon takes a piece of pie with her — she had served it as a dessert after dinner and it became nayeon’s favorite right then and there.

the moment nayeon waves a final goodbye and jihyo closes the door, she has to explain to her mom that no, she hadn’t made a friend, and that nayeon was simply her partner on that project, nothing else.

at least her voice came back after nayeon left and she was able to use the basics of verbal communication again.

jihyo doesn’t fully understand what nayeon wants from her, but she’s happy nayeon never stops sitting next to her and talking to her, no matter how quiet she is.

what starts with a messy greeting develops into something else during that school year. jihyo might not see herself as nayeon’s friend, like jeongyeon and sana, but im nayeon is conveniently the only person that talks to her.

nayeon convinces jihyo to join her with her friends during lunch soon enough, not taking a no for an answer, because she hated to see jihyo eating alone. it was either that or nayeon would leave her friends to sit next to her, always decisive about what she wanted.

and nayeon always got what she wanted.

with time, jihyo realizes there wasn’t a single thing she wouldn’t do for nayeon. she did everything for her, from carrying nayeon’s backpack around in school to doing her homework, even offering nayeon her own coat if nayeon forgot hers and it was a cold day.

nayeon never really asked for those things, but jihyo’s eagerness to help was adorable, so she never stopped her.

at some point, nayeon even made jihyo accept having sleepovers with her. jeongyeon and sana rarely tagged along, which led them to do their own thing in the same room, simply exchanging some company. during sleepovers nayeon drew for the most part, either focused on her sketches or taking care of her hair and nails.

sometimes, before jihyo could lay her hands on her board game, she’d ask for jihyo to brush her hair or help her with something else, because jihyo did everything nayeon asked diligently and way better than she would do herself.

while jeongyeon and sana used to be the ones she’d usually have those sleepovers with, nayeon simply grows used to jihyo’s company. her friends are dear to her, of course, but sometimes all nayeon wants is to be alone with jihyo. not because jihyo was quiet and ready to grant her with anything, but because she was different.

nayeon quickly realizes that jihyo wasn’t like jeongyeon and sana. and that could mean a lot of things that she wasn't ready to understand.

but it wasn’t always that nayeon got to have scalp massages or change the color of her nails, because jihyo becomes obsessed with a board game and nayeon wasn’t going to interrupt her in her own little world.

sadly for jihyo, nayeon wasn’t interested on playing with her either, it was ‘too nerdy’ for her, but she was happy to see that jihyo had been making new hobbies and even tried to convince her to join the school’s rpg club.

(perhaps the whole idea of having a club just for little games that consisted on fictional worlds and fanciful narratives was utterly silly for nayeon, but she’d never tell jihyo that.)

as they grow older, they never share the same interests, but nayeon still becomes jihyo’s best friend, and jihyo is someone nayeon deeply cares about.

jihyo can never put a word to what she feels towards nayeon. she knows what it is, but she finds words that are not quite it and uses them instead. at times, she convinces herself it’s purely admiration. nayeon is too good, really, unwittingly perfect, pretty and kind and talented — everybody knows all about that.

jihyo is certainly not the only one who sees nayeon, given the amount of times people confess to nayeon during high school. for odd reasons, though, nayeon is never able to reciprocate their feelings.

as for jihyo, she never once thought about being with someone romantically — other than with nayeon, that is, but whenever she felt like her mind was starting to trick her into thinking one day she’d have nayeon, she busied herself with better things.

when they go to college, something shifts between them, even if subtly. jihyo is forced to move out of town again, because no university near her house offered the major she looked for, and nayeon pays her weekly visits.

jihyo’s roommate and nayeon don’t get along at first. it was mostly nayeon’s fault, she can easily admit to it, she was petty and jealous because, for the first (or second) time, jihyo found a friend on her own — it is true that nayeon found jihyo, but jihyo was the one who sat where she wasn’t supposed to and got nayeon’s attention.

it ticks nayeon off, really, the fact mina is just like jihyo. they enjoy the same things, they’re classmates and now it’s mina that sits next to jihyo. and mina likes her — nayeon just knows, and she thinks jihyo might to like her too, because there was no reason for her not to.

it was foolish of her to think jihyo could have any interest on someone else when nayeon has always been everything she’s ever wanted, but jihyo never told nayeon about her feelings and nayeon could only make guesses.

(one day, when nayeon is sleeping over in jihyo’s dorm, she learns from jihyo that mina is not into dating. she no longer tries to make mina understand that jihyo was hers then, even if she wasn’t.)

the need to talk about their feelings is never strong enough to make them confess. nayeon has known ever since she laid her eyes on jihyo that her heart was all hers. she didn’t know in what way, of course, they were both too young at the time and all nayeon knew back then was that the tiny girl who had just arrived in town belonged next to her.

even when jihyo can no longer pretend to herself she only sees nayeon as her friend, confessing is never something she considers.

she is afraid nayeon might find somebody else, but she’s even more afraid of ruining everything between them. it’s the only time jihyo ever feels selfish, wanting nayeon close, unable to think of the possibility of not having nayeon there.

“what’s on your mind?” nayeon asks softly, an arm hooked around jihyo’s waist.

she’d soon have to bid her goodbyes and be gone until the following weekend, when she’d meet jihyo again.

when nayeon was there, she would either persuade jihyo to go out or just enjoy her company inside — despite mina being around to join them if nayeon were to stick with the second option. mina was no longer a threat, but sometimes nayeon misses being alone with jihyo, like she used to be.

jihyo is nearly as small as she was when nayeon met her. she was clearly grown, but she could still fit in nayeon’s arms perfectly. they had been spooning, and jihyo would never admit she likes being the small spoon if anyone other than nayeon were to ask, but she feels safe and comfortable when she’s on the spot nayeon reserves exclusively for her.

“nothing,” jihyo answers, no longer stuttering or unable to talk when nayeon asked her basic things. “just can’t sleep, s’ all.”

“i can’t sleep either,” nayeon murmurs after a few seconds, tapping jihyo’s waist as a sign for her to turn around. “we can talk.”

jihyo faces her then, rolling her body so she’d be able to see nayeon. “about what?”

nayeon doesn’t utter a word, closing her eyes when jihyo’s lays a hand over her cheek, fingers slipping into her hair out of habit, nails scratching her scalp softly.

she sighs, familiar with the touch, moving closer to jihyo on the bed until their foreheads were touching. jihyo doesn’t flinch, already used to being that close with nayeon, her own eyes closing as soon as nayeon reaches her.

“you should’ve accepted to go out with me today,” nayeon whispers, so close to jihyo that jihyo can almost feel her smug smile, as if nayeon was telling her ‘i told you’.

“i have class tomorrow, unnie,” jihyo pulls away just barely, opening her eyes to meet nayeon’s. being that close to nayeon, able to see all of the different colors in nayeon’s eyes and the small curve of her lips when she holds back a smile, has never failed to make jihyo’s stomach quiver, cheeks reddening out of habit, and although nayeon doesn’t say a thing about it, she finds it rather endearing. “and i like being inside.”

“i know.” nayeon’s smile widens and jihyo pulls her hand away from her face, just to see her smile. with a hand over jihyo’s waist, nayeon pulls her closer until their foreheads touched again. “but i like you just the way you are.”

it’s not the first time jihyo hears those words from nayeon, and yet she is nervous as if it was. jihyo holds her breath when nayeon seems to move too close, even closer than they already were, their noses bumping in the way. “unnie…”

nayeon doesn’t pull away. instead, she holds jihyo’s face in place. “trust me.”

jihyo freezes when there’s a weight against her lips — of nayeon’s lips, all but touching hers in a soft peck.

she feels like it’s the first time she met nayeon all over again. jihyo remembers of the day clearly in her head. of course she’d remember, never able to forget the way her heart sank when she first saw nayeon, how it raced at full speed when nayeon sat next to her.

nayeon pulls away and jihyo can finally breathe, emptying her lungs the moment nayeon’s lips are no longer on top of hers, but she shakes her head and holds nayeon’s face just like nayeon held hers.

“more,” jihyo asks, voice hoarse, barely coming out.

it confirms everything nayeon could’ve once doubted. the need in jihyo’s voice, how she leans into her despite being surprised with the kiss, how she asks for more as if she couldn’t stand to face nayeon after sharing her first kiss with her. it was better to kiss it off, really, and jihyo trusted her more than anyone else for that.

and so nayeon kisses her. really kisses her, tongue slipping past jihyo’s lips, hands pulling her closer, and closer, and closer. jihyo tries to follow nayeon’s lead, with little experience to know if she’s doing a good job but it wasn’t about being good. it was good regardless, but what they searched for was something greater than just good.

at some point there was nothing between them, but none of them talk about it. this time, nayeon allows herself to slip under jihyo’s skin and keep her mouth shut — no, kissing jihyo, too busy with her lips to think about uttering a word, because those weren’t needed and they could wait.

#nayeon #jihyo #nahyo #sfw #non rq

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coffeelovesdramasalatte · 1 year

Text

LITA Ep 3 Rewatch Thoughts Pt. 2

Part 1 here!

Ok I am HERE for this encouragement - I love that Phayu is always supportive of Rain's academic talents

Apparently Rain is not immune to Phayu's pout either. Good, a relationship should be built on equality

pls observe this cutie omfg no wonder Phayu can't take his eyes off him

i genuinely feel like this shot did something to my brain chemistry. i kid you not one of my main goals in life is to have someone do this to me (by which I mean I want to be in Rain's position). I would also ignore homework and all my responsibilities if someone looked at and held me like that pls

P'Aon so true, Boss WAS smiling like an idiot (in love)

Poor Rain, these were famous last words :( (I too have uttered them many a time until I realized I am not a nap-taker)

ETHEREAL

Is this a rock cover of flight of the bumblebee playing in the background??? POOR RAIN HE STAYED UP ALL NIGHT TO DO THIS :((((

Ok but this is actually a very important lesson that I'm glad they included. It's true that Rain finished the work on time, but he also should have ensured he got enough sleep and made it to the presentation on time. He's still in his first year so he has a lot of time to grow. The actual important line is this one below.

It was a harsh way of phrasing it, but it's true. Setbacks are a very normal part of life and everyone makes "mistakes" (missing deadlines, not being able to finish a project, etc). I put that in quotes because sometimes, these things are at no fault of the person. It is possible to put 100% of your effort into finishing something and not get it done (which, aside from Rain's poor time management, he actually did put in a lot of effort to this project). Failing at something even after putting in a lot of hard work sucks, but being able to pick up after that and still work hard is what makes a person successful. I related extra hard to this scene because I failed a class in my major during my first year of college even though all I did was study, and it put me back a full year bc it's only offered certain semesters and was required to move forward in the degree. I took it again the following year and was smarter about how I studied and even still, I almost failed again. But I liked my major enough to keep at it and somehow still managed to graduate on time and now I'm in grad school, so... (that was an unnecessary story but to reiterate, failure is normal and ok)

AWW look at him putting on a facade for his friends... I think it's interesting that he doesn't confide in Sky here

but instead flies to the garage... Even I questioned this

P'Saifah is a good bro, calling Phayu immediately to come comfort his in-law. Phayu is good here too, immediately grabbing his things to come running

I think I speak for all of us when I say watching Phayu ride in the heavy rain was nerve-wracking bc we were expecting an accident or something

OK this scene. THIS SCENE. Utterly perfect in every way, from the moment concerned Phayu walks through the door to see a drenched, teary Rain waiting for him. Something blue-yellow is going on here too methinks

There's something so incredibly intimate about the way Phayu crouches down to Rain's level, and then beckons him into his arms. His words too are so gentle, and he just holds Rain as he cries.

As opposed to many other sweet scenes, this sequence + the one after Rain comes out of the bathroom is actually the one that makes me most jealous of PhayuRain. There is nothing more valuable than having someone you can fall apart into and trust that they'll hold the pieces of you together. And honestly, in the grand scheme of things Rain didn't mess up horribly - it feels monumental to him bc it's probably the first time he's missed a deadline. It's important that Phayu still treats the situation with the gravity of something more serious, bc it shows how much he cares. And after Rain has calmed down, he advises him on how to do better next time without sugarcoating, but also sharing that he experienced similar things during his days as a student.

I'mma need Rain to zip it bc he looks perfect, as usual

I really like the framing in this scene where he's looking into the mirror and then introspecting "why did I put up a front with other people and then cry in front of him? idk but I'm thankful" - he's reflecting mentally and physically!!!

Can't believe a drama is out here giving important life lessons but I'm here for it. I also like that Phayu shows a bit of vulnerability by sharing that he got criticized too, and that Rain will be able to recover from it.

HEADPAT x 2

This is another set of shots that altered my brain chemistry. Who taught them to look at each other like this, hm? Rain looks so vulnerable and Phayu might as well be cradling Rain's soul in his hands ft. headpat

The way Rain tilts his head up? Exquisite

I'd also feel very motivated if I was in Rain's place. Phayu actually makes another few interesting points here - he says what's done is done, and then tells Rain to not dwell on it and take care of himself. Interestingly enough (story time pt 2 you can skip if you want). I watched this scene very soon after I missed a paper submission deadline for a conference. It's not the biggest deal, especially because my professor knew it was a big ask to finish an entire research project in the timeline he gave me and he wasn't even remotely upset about it (long story short I only had 2 weeks notice to flesh out the idea, get the data, analyze the data, and write the research paper - but you can't really control how long things take you when you do research bc the point is that it hasn't been done before). So even though no one reprimanded me, I still felt really upset bc I had made up my mind that I was going to do this impossible task and couldn't. To hear Phayu's reminder that I can be upset but I shouldn't spend too long being sad to the point I neglect to take care of myself was honestly nice. It also helped to put things into perspective that yes, I couldn't submit to this particular conference, but there are so many that happen all the time so it's not like the research is wasted - just pull yourself together and try for the next one. Anyways, I'm done treating y'all like my personal diary now <3

Yay, Rain feels comforted and finally smiles! It's like seeing the sun after a storm (literally) AND something yellow-blue is happening here

Post-credits garage brothers content!! This exchange is hilarious bc P'Saifah goes 'ah [Rain] is in the palm of your hand' as Rain's leaving, but then the show makes it literal bc Phayu's holding a picture of Rain in his palm via the phone screen, which also signifies to the viewer that Phayu is also in the palm of Rain's hand. Again, we love relationships built on equality hehe

I love that they let us see the moment Phayu decided to pursue Rain (he's looking at the picture of Rain on his phone for the first time - though I do question why the senior just randomly sent him a photo of Rain? Like at this point Phayu is an alumni of the frat so why just send an isolated photo of a freshman to him?? we'll never know I guess)

And that's episode 3! If you made it this far, I hope at least some of this was entertaining! Have a lovely day or night, whenever you're reading this <3 See you in the next one!!

#love in the air #lita #lita the series #bossnoeul #phayurain #payurain #lita rewatch thoughts

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