#but i always regretted not going to college

[byeoltoyuki]

Try

↳ Pairing: Seungmin x reader

❧ Genre: rivals to lovers / romance / smut

❧ Words: +4k

❧ Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f)

❧Summary : Years ago, he used to be your enemy.

No. Enemy was too strong to describe what Kim Seungmin was to you. Your rival was a better term. He was everything you weren’t; friendly, funny and effortlessly brilliant. You loathed him for that. And yet, when you meet him again years later, you just can’t deny that there’s something else between you too.

❧ A/N : Honestly, this one comes out of nowhere. I just needed to write so here it comes ♥ Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♥

***

‘Trust your guts’.

It was your motto in life. A simple rule. And you abided by this rule half of your short lived life. But not tonight and you regretted it. Deeply.

The annual gathering with people from your college was an event your closest friends adored just so they could show some idiots that they had succeeded in life. You? You avoided it. An event you hated with all your heart. You always found excuses not to go. Your life depended on it.

Okay. Not really. Not your life at least. But definitely your ego.

You hated half of the people who attended the event. Back in college, they were so quick to judge, to talk behind your back and yet they expected you to be nice to them. To them, you were just a cold, nerdy girl with no friends. Someone they could easily mock. They hated your attitude. They hated your looks. But they also hated how easily you beat them every single time.

They were wrong.

Yes, you were a little nerdy back then, but you weren’t a cold person, just shy. And you had friends. Not many, but you didn’t need many to feel good. To be happy. Those you had, stuck by your side and they also happened to be the reason you had finally agreed to come to the gathering. You just couldn’t say no to Hyunjin and Yeji, not when those two formed an alliance against you. You had no chance against them.

You sighed to yourself. Would it be rude to grab your purse and leave? One nasty look from Hyunjin, as if he could read your mind, and you gulped nervously. Apparently it was. You slumped further into your chair and tried to keep up with the conversation. Same boring conversation. ‘Where do you currently work?’ ‘Are you soon getting married?’ ‘I’ve bought a house!’ Why did it have to be a competition? Couldn't they just enjoy a nice gathering and the meal?

“Hyunjin, I heard you’re flying to Paris for the fashion week.” Seoah were almost drooling as she spoke to Hyunjin. You cringed. She couldn’t make it even more obvious that she wasn’t just admiring him. No, she had something else on mind. Too bad, Hyunjin was a taken man even if she didn’t know that.

He smiled into his drink. “Yes, tomorrow.” He put his glass back on the table and glanced smugly at a silently fuming Juwon who always hated Hyunjin’s popularity. “I was actually supposed to leave today, but I couldn’t miss our annual gathering! It’s good to see you guys.”

What a liar. You had to bite your lips not to laugh at his words.

Juwon cleared his throat and averted his attention on you. Hell no. “You look different.” For once, it didn’t sound like an insult but you were still weary of him. No nice words coming out of his mouth could make you forget what kind of asshole he was. And you had a hard time to believe that he had actually changed.

“Do I?” You did look different from the past. You used not to care about your looks. Who cared how you looked as long as you had good grades? You certainly didn’t. Neither did your friends. But it changed. Ever since you started working at your art gallery, you understood the importance of how others perceived you. You learnt to do your makeup right. You took care of your long hair. And you changed your whole wardrobe. You got classier. And maybe tonight you put an extra effort to look good. Not that you needed to impress anyone, but you did it anyway.

“It suits you!” Another woman commented, genuinely excited. You couldn’t remember her name but you thanked her with a smile.

Yeji eyed you from the other side of the big table, thumbs up, her eyes telling you silently ‘told you so’. You ignored her. Just because you could.

“I wonder with what kind of man you ended.” Juwon was too curious for his own good.

“Oh come on.” Seoah laughed as if the idea of you dating was ridiculous. “I bet she’s still single.”

How typical of her to assume. Not that she was wrong, but her comment still pissed you. Did she think you were still the same woman as back in college? Just because right at this moment, you were indeed single, didn’t mean you refused dating. You did and got tired of it. Every relationship you had, always started nice, romantic even, but always ended the same way: you breaking up with the guy. They were nice men who truly cared for you but there was just something missing.

However, before you could share a piece of your mind with Seoah, you were interrupted.

“Sorry guys, I’m late!”

That voice.

That stupidly, annoying voice. Your whole body reacted; you shuddered, unable to breath, unable to think properly.

Kim Seungmin.

Here came a man you wished you could avoid for the rest of your life. You knew, your hatred for him was irrational. Compare to others, he had never done anything to you. Seungmin never mocked you, never made any bad comments. But he was your rival. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how many hours you spent in the library, studying, he still beat you every single time. It drove you crazy. But what made everything tenths time worse was the fact that Seungmin quickly caught on your little game and it amused him. You hated him for that too.

“You’re right on time!” Juwon pushed a chair for him. “We’ve been discussing Y/N’s love life!” His gaze slid to you and smirked. “Or lack of it.” Yep. Still an asshole, you were right.

Seungmin quirked a brow at Juwon’s words. You felt his eyes on you. On your face, on your neck, on your arms. Your skin burned under his gaze but you refused to acknowledge his presence for the sake of your sanity.

Maybe a tiny part of you expected Seungmin to comment Juwon’s words, maybe even laugh at it. But he did none of that. Instead you felt him only closer to you which made your unease grow with every passing seconds.

“Do you mind if we switch places?” Seungmin asked the girl beside you, taking the two of you completely off guard.

You opened your mouth, a protest on the tip of your tongue but the girl beside you was faster. She hurried to leave her spot. Seungmin flashed her a pretty smile and sat right next to you. Despite you wanting to avoid him, now that he sat so close to you, your arm brushing his, there was no escape. Now that you were staring right into his pretty, annoying, eyes, you knew: you were fucked.

“As for what you said Juwon. Lack of love life?” Seungmin repeated his words. He moved a little closer to you and before you could push him away, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you against him. “How come you didn’t tell them about us, babe?”

Loud gasps followed by whispers.

What.

What the actual fuck?!

If from outside you looked perfectly composed, at least to those who didn’t know you well enough, inside you were completely freaking out. His words made no sense. His body, his warmth that should have repelled you, felt actually nice.

Kim Seungmin was trying to help you. You heard him. You understood what he was saying but you didn’t understand why. You weren’t friends, not even close and you hadn’t seen each other for so long. I’ll deal with you later.

Something was wrong with you too because instead of pushing him away, you leant into him and accepted his help. “Because they wouldn’t have believed me. Should I remind you that we used to hate each other?” You reminded him and playfully poked his side.

Seungmin leaned closer, his lips so close to yours – you gulped but didn’t avert your eyes from his face. How annoyingly pretty he looked with his eyes shining brightly with mischief. Fine, he was helping you but he was clearly having fun too.

“Wrong.” He said and kissed the corner of your lips.

Gasps again.

Your heart skipped a beat. The corner of your lips tingled and you found yourself wishing his lips had stayed longer. What the actual fuck, Y/N. This whole night was a terrible idea and you kept making bad decisions. Getting drunk and hoping to forget everything seemed like a good idea right now.

“I never hated you.” He added and pulled back to face the others as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb at them. And at you. “What’s up?”

And just like that they started talking again. But you heard none of that. All you could hear was the sound of your roaring heart. All you could feel was the lingering feeling of his lips. All you could think about was Seungmin and this thing going on between the two of you tonight. ‘I never hated you.’ Fine. Maybe he never did but you weren’t on best terms either. You wanted to take him outside and talk to him. Was it his attempt at messing with you? Or was he really just being genuinely nice?

You noticed Hyunjin and Yeji staring at you, questions in their eyes. You didn’t blame them. They had to know none of it was real, they were your best friends. You wouldn’t have hidden something as big as dating Kim Seungmin from them.

“And you Yeji?” Seungmin’s voice brought you back from your reverie. “I heard your new song, it’s really nice.” You wanted to concentrate on what he was saying since he was talking about your friend. You couldn’t. Not when he put his hand on your thigh. Not when he made it look so natural. Not when, despite it happening under the table, it attracted attention on the two of you again.

It should feel wrong. In fact, you should be appalled by his boldness. You didn’t. It felt awfully nice. And right. Instead of pushing him away, you simply watch him talking. You didn’t want to admire his face but it was hard not to. Even if you weren’t fond of him, you weren’t blind. Kim Seungmin was handsome. Pretty eyes, pretty nose and even prettier mouth. Without realizing it, you licked your lips, wondering how it would feel against yours. Or at any other part of your body.

Oh my god. Did they put something in my drink? There’s no way I’m thinking about him. But you were.

Seungmin squeezed your thigh, the palm of his hand feeling suddenly too hot against your skin. He forgot all about his friends and leant closer. “If you keep staring at me like that we might have a problem.” He warned you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you couldn’t ignore how your face flushed. “When did you get so bold?” You whispered in return.

Seungmin smiled in response. A smile so beautiful, so bright, you wanted to keep it for yourself.

“Growing up does that to a person.” He whispered, his lips brushed your ear. “And also, you look really pretty tonight.”

You couldn’t stop the blush from spreading all over your face even if you tried.

Kim Seungmin was a menace. But a very beautiful and annoying one.

“Okay, that’s enough.” One of the guy groaned. “Get a room. Some of us are sadly single and you two are just disgusting.”

Seungmin laughed heartily and unfortunately for you pulled away from you. A tiny part of you was relieved for the space, but another part of you almost whined at the loss of his warmth. Yeah, there was something wrong with you.

****

Somehow you managed to survive through the whole meal without a fight, without people trying to mess with you. In fact, you even managed to laugh a few times and it wasn’t just because of your friends’ jokes. And maybe it had everything to do with Seungmin.

“Should I drive you home?” Hyunjin whispered to your ear, making sure that nobody heard you.

It was the plan. You came with them and you were supposed to leave with them. You glanced at Seungmin and you couldn’t believe yourself: you were hesitating. You could leave with your friends but then you wouldn’t be able to talk to him and have a chance to thank him for his help.

Seungmin was faster to react. “I’ll take her home. Right babe?” He grabbed your jacket from your chair and waited for you.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at his words, tempted to pull you back against him. You patted his back. “I should go with Seungmin.”

Hyunjin cocked a brow, surprised with your answer. You gave him a small smile and promised to text him and Yeji later.

Seungmin waited for you. Your body moved on its own accord. When you were close enough, Seungmin helped you to put your jacket on. You were thankful he couldn’t see your flushed face.

“There. All good.” He told you. “Are you ready?”

You were not.

***

You didn’t want the drive to your place to be awkward but it was. You didn’t know how to start the conversation with him. You knew nothing about this Kim Seungmin or how to deal with him.

“Thank you for tonight.” You said awkwardly without looking at him.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him glance at you. You expected him to make a comment, to make it easier for you but he didn’t. He returned his attention to the road. Damn him.

You sighed and slumped further into your seat. “I still don’t understand why you helped me.” This time, you looked at him.

Seungmin shrugged. “They were being dicks for no good reason.”

True, they were but it wasn’t anything new. Seungmin never stood up for you before so why now? “You didn’t need to pretend though.” He could have said anything but no, he chose to play your fake boyfriend instead.

Seungmin parked the car by the entrance of your building and then fully faced you. His eyes sparked with delight and something else. “I admit; it wasn’t my plan. But then, I had one look at you and couldn’t help myself.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “So you were messing with me.”

“Maybe a little.”

So damn infuriating. You hurried to unbuckle your seatbelt and opened the door.

“I wasn’t joking you know.” Seungmin stopped you with his words, realizing that if he wanted for you to talk to him, he needed to be genuine. “I never hated you.” He sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. “I loved how competitive you were. When I realized how clever you were, it pushed me to work harder, to make sure I stayed on the top. And maybe to annoy you a little too. I remember how you used to scrunch your nose whether you saw I got a better grade than you. So adorable.” He smiled at the memory.

Seungmin left you speechless. Why was he making it sound like he was actually fond of you? And why the hell did his words melted you on the spot? You needed to hurry up; grab your purse and leave this car before you did something unthinkable. But as you stepped outside of his car, your body froze, refusing to leave. I’m losing my mind, that’s it.

“Give me your phone.” You turned back and outstretched your hand. It was a bad idea. Terrible idea. But then again, it was just another one to add to the list of bad ideas. Who cared?

Seungmin didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second as if he had been waiting for this moment for ages. You refused to delve on the matter as you quickly saved your number in his phone. “Call me when you want.”

‘And maybe soon.’ But you didn’t say it.

***

You barely made it inside your flat – your phone rang with an unknown number. You stared at your phone, your heart skipping a beat. You didn’t want to think it could be Seungmin. But were you hoping? Maybe.

“Hi.” You instantly recognized his gentle voice.

You couldn’t help it. You chuckled at his eagerness. “You know, usually people wait few days to call back.”

“Open your door.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Too taken aback, you did as he asked without thinking. And here he was. “Did you follow me?!”

Seungmin smiled sheepishly and put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry. I-“

Was he nervous? “What are you doing, Seungmin?”

Seungmin took a deep breath and took a step inside your flat. The right thing to do would be to tell him to leave. It was too soon and you weren’t in the right mind. You did none of that.

“I’m desperate.” He admitted.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he got closer to you. You knew that if you let him get too close to you, something could happen. And you didn’t completely dislike the idea. Seungmin halted right before you. His eyes blazed with so much intensity, you gulped nervously.

Gently, Seungmin took your hand and pulled it toward him to press against his chest. You jolted, surprised to feel his heartbeat. Wild. Strong. And his hand so warm. “I was a coward in college and missed my chance. I can’t do it a second time, Y/N. I can’t let you slip between my fingers again.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between your hand against his chest and his eyes. “Are you confessing, Seungmin?”

“What if I am?” He dared you, his grip on your hand tightened. Maybe a little part of him was actually scared of rejection. But he held strong.

You could pull away from him and forget his words.

You could, but you didn’t.

His words stirred something inside you. It made you curious. What if instead of looking for a guy that was nice, you went for the guy who loved to compete with you? A guy who, without you even realizing it, pushed you to be the best version of yourself? You had nothing to lose. So you did something completely out of your character. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, feeling all of him against you. His body strong and firm against you.

“I’d say you need to show me just how much you like me.”

Seungmin growled at your words and instead of answering you, he claimed your mouth. So eager. So desperate. There was nothing sweet about this kiss and you didn’t mind. Seungmin poured years of frustration and need into the kiss. Poured all his feelings, his longing and you gladly took it all.

You moved through the room without breaking the kiss until your thighs met the edge of your table. You didn’t think twice as you sat on top of it, spreading your legs for him to settle against you. You felt it then, how hard he was, how much he wanted you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t wet and excited for what he could do to you.

Seungmin broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?”

You thought it was sweet that he still tried to control himself. That he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable with him touching you. If only he knew how bad you needed him right now. “Hundred per cent sure.” You confirmed and pecked his nose.

“Well then,” Seungmin’s lips moved from your cheek to the corner of your mouth, to your jaw. “I think I want a dessert.” He kissed your shoulder and gently slid the straps of your dress exposing your aching breasts. “So beautiful.” He licked his way from one breast to another – he took one of your breasts in his mouth, playing with you, teasing you.

You moaned softly, your hand nestled in his hair, you pushed his head against your chest. You were right, his mouth felt perfect against your skin and you thought it would be so easy to get addicted. “Touch me.” You begged, the throbbing between your legs getting too much.

“I’m touching you.” He teased, knowing damn well where you needed him the most.

“Seungmin.” You groaned and tug at his hair.

He groaned and bit playfully on your nipple. “Be nice.” With that he hiked your dress higher. He grabbed your panties and tore them off you.

You gasped loudly. “Did you just tear my panties?!”

He chuckled. “Sorry.” He was definitely not sorry judging by his smirk. You took note to make him pay later for it.

Seungmin spread your legs wider and licked his lips at your exposed pussy glistening with your wetness. “Look at that. Already so wet and I barely touched you.” He teased your sweet pussy by dragging a finger from your clit to your entrance, loving how you shivered at this simple touch.

“Seungmin, please.” You begged shamelessly and pushed your hips, needing to feel more.

“Do you want that?” He pushed his fingers deep inside you. So easily. In and out. Slower at first and then faster, watching as you threw your head back, your lips parted. Your soft moans filled the room and it was the sweetest melody to his ears.

Slowly, Seungmin dropped to his knees. Your dizzy mind barely registered what he was doing – he gently scraped his teeth over your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing. The moment he wrapped his lips around your clit, you lost it.  A loud moan escaped your lips. He feasted on you eagerly; his mouth, his fingers, he was slowly driving you crazy and you could only beg for more.

“Oh my god, Seungmin.” You mewled and ground against his face.

He was good. Too good. His mouth was divine. He worked his magic so well, you could feel your orgasm so close you could taste it.

“I’m so close. Please.”

Seungmin hummed against your pussy. “Come then.”

And you did. Your whole body trembled as your orgasm washed over you. But he didn’t stop. Seungmin kept sucking on your clit, enjoying how you writhed and tried to pull him away from you, too sensitive from your orgasm.

Seungmin straightened up and slowly pulled out his fingers from your pussy. He watched you, smiling lazily as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them.

“Shit.” You clenched around nothing at the sight. He shouldn’t be allowed to look so sinful.

You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into another bruising kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “I need you inside me right now.”

“So bossy.” He chuckled, “What if I want to play more with you?”

You considered it for a moment. You wouldn’t mind him playing with you. But right now, you wanted him buried deep inside you. You wanted him to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t remember why in the hell you considered him as your enemy for so long. Wanted him to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t remember your name.

You reached between your bodies and started working on his belt and then his zipper. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to play with me later.”

Seungmin arched a brow, amused with your confession. “Will I?”

“Hell yeah.” You grabbed his cock. He was hard and angry and dripping pre-cum. You salivated at the sight. Kim Seungmin was perfect and you were dying to find out how hard he could ruin you. “Please, wreck me?” You asked as nicely as you could manage.

Seungmin shook his head, laughing fondly. “How can I say no to you?”

Seungmin drove into you. One deep thrust that made you grab his arms, holding for your dear life.

“Fuck.” You moaned and tried to compose yourself. He felt perfect, stretching you, filling you just like you needed.

Seungmin dragged his cock slowly at first, letting you time to adjust and maybe also trying to compose himself. Despite all his talk about playing, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted to lose control and drive you mad. “You were made for me, Y/N.” He grunted, his control slipping little by little. “Fuck.”

“Don’t hold back, please.” Who cared if he ruined you? Who cared if you couldn’t walk tomorrow? You didn’t.

And he didn’t. Seungmin slammed back into you. His thrusts hard. Deep. Reaching all the right spots. Making you cry out his name. Making you whimper. “You are so fucking perfect.” He hissed as you clenched around him.

“Please, please, please.” You didn’t know what you begged for anymore. Was for him to go harder? To go deeper? To slow down? You couldn’t tell. Your mind was overwhelmed. Your body was burning.

Seungmin kept a brutal rhythm, his thrusts vicious, his grip on your body strong, fingers digging into your skin. It would leave marks and you could only wish for more. Let the world see that someone made you feel so good. Let the world see that you belonged to him.

His hand reached between your bodies and rubbed your clit. There was no escape. You came in a loud cry, wildly, explosively, your body shaking. Seungmin fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts getting sloppier, his grunts louder, seeking his own release.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and claimed his mouth, swallowing his groan as he came deep inside you, trembling against you.

Seungmin rested his head in the crook of your head, panting. For a moment, you didn’t talk and savored just the moment and the press of your sweaty bodies. It felt nice. It felt good. Perfect.

With your orgasm came clarity. “Why haven’t we done it sooner?” You laughed.

Seungmin bit on your collarbone in response. “Because we had other priorities in college.”

That you did. “What a shame.” You sighed dramatically. “Guess we have some serious catch up to do, don’t you think?”

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Good luck Babe

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Warning: Angst, no happy ending, sad lesbians, internalised homophobia

You had gone to school with the Melissa Schemmenti, you had been best friends for years until she met Joe and he had been the reason for your distance.

It wasn’t a surprise when your phone rang so early in the morning until you saw the redheads name flash across your screen. “M-Melissa?” Having sobered up from the party the night prior “are you okay?” You sat up in bed pulling the sheets up to cover your bare chest from the morning chill.

Ignoring the glare from the woman beside you as the cool air hit her naked form, she knew how the redhead was. She wasn’t blind to Melissa’s attraction towards you but she knew not to be jealous, she was the one in your bed not the redhead.

Melissa sighed looking down at her kitchen table before speaking “I-… I just miss you is all, we barely speak anymore and I- just” she stumbled over her words. “I need you Y/n/n” her voice was soft as she whispered “come home please” she begged as her nails dragged along the treated wood.

It wouldn’t be any longer than two days before you saw one another for the first time in years, you let yourself into her home through the open front door. Your bags in the rental car, graduation had led you both down different paths, Melissa became a teacher and you a fashion designer a famous one at that.

Melissa was sat on her couch, feet pulled under her as she stared into nothing nursing a large glass of wine in hand. You leaned against the doorframe “Melissa” you sang sadly watching your once closest friend, her head whipped around until she saw you “Y-Y/n?” She stuttered.

She slowly stood from the couch before warily making her way to you “thank god you’re here” she sobbed falling into your arms it was odd to see her so vulnerable.

Our last year of high school

“I-I like you Mel” you confessed as you both sat in your car stoned in her Nonna’s driveway, the hint of liquor on your breaths. “I like you too Y/n/n” she chuckled her eyes drooping as she leaned forward “No Melissa, I like you” I emphasised.

“Oh Y/n, I’m not like you. I’m not you know” she flung her wrist “you’re not gay?” I spoke softly though the hurt was evident. “Yeah” Melissa sighed “but we kiss and hold hands in public, we go on dates I mean we’ve even had sex! And you’re telling me..that you’re not gay?” .

Melissa wasn’t gay but there were pictures of you both kissing at parties or snap shots of hands down the other’s pants in a partially open bathroom. She wasn’t gay but still marked your skin and wore your clothes, she had a spare everything at your place.

It didn’t get any better when we got to college either, she had met Joe and I played the doting friend always smiling by her side. I hated it, how could he be the one to win her heart and hold her hand to kiss her so sweetly. Melissa’s Nonna couldn’t stand him, I lost count how many tea dates I had with the older woman as she held my hand ranting.

How Melissa would be better off admitting the “truth” Nonna could never be lied to even if you thought it was the truth. She mentioned how she would love to see her little Melissa with someone like you but you always chuckled sadly shaking your head.

“You’re gonna regret it one day Melissa, when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night with your head in your hands..you’re nothing more than his wife”. I stood behind her as she tried on various dresses “and when you think about me all of those years ago” I shook my head not wanting to say, I told you so.

“Good luck babe”

Melissa still married Joe nobody could help it not any of Nonna’s complaints or her mother’s curses and definitely not my broken heart. I made sure to get away after college, I would still be her friend but I couldn’t watch as she possibly created a family.

But now? As Melissa sobbed in my arms, mumbled words as her fingers dug into my skin desperately and the words I had once hoped for. “I’m in love with you tesoro, it’s always been you” she hiccuped hiding her face in my neck I said nothing just patting her back.

“Nonna was right, you were right hell! Even my mother was right. I’m miserable Y/n/n and I hate myself but I hate him more, why did I think it was a good idea?”

“Because you were in love, it makes us do crazy things”

Twelve years it took for her to come to this “I love you Y/n” she cupped my face “I love you too Melissa” I said gently. “You were right, I’m nothing more than Joe’s wife who stays at home blindly as he cheats and does whatever or whoever”.

My heart clenched for her “I know I was right Mel” I sighed softly “but I’ve moved on, you know this” she nodded sadly. “I’m your friend, I can’t be anything more than that” I kissed her forehead and wiped her tears before unlatching her arms and stepping back.

“Good luck babe”

Unfortunately Melissa never came out, going from man to man her latest being Gary the vending machine guy or the “hot” firefighter. And at night when the body beside her lay sleeping she still thinks about me..her best friend and wonders what it would’ve been like all of those years ago.

I hate to say I told you so..

[chaoticforever]

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 Tony 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, buddy," 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 more.

Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. Y/n was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mixture 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 billionaire 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 so sorry, son," his voice a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."

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

XXXXX XXXXX

[zvcvxl]

Ellie Williams x Reader (ONESHOT)

WARNINGS!: mf you aint even reading this shit dont even

You’ve always tried distancing yourself from people outside your friend group, however, when attention is on you, you tend to act like its your natural habitat. Even when your at the brink of - pissing yourself, breaking down in a gut wrenching breakdown, killing yourself leaving.

And let’s just say boy’s are one of your biggest fears, don’t even mention when they are in a group, gosh, you just murmur under your breath, a silent prayer whether you believe or not…

Alcohol, drugs, smoking…listen you aren’t a pussy but you just simply decline usually when any of the three are offered to you, and it’s definitely not cus your scared.

If you even stepped a centimetre within the area of your crush chances are you would loose your shit and blush hysterically, one time you almost passed out, and let me tell you, your friends do not put that past you.

“what am I even doing here” you murmur to yourself at the ridiculously ridiculous situation you are in. Can you blame yourself though? I mean, if you weren’t sitting on large ass, crimson red brick, staring at the abandoned deteriorating building with glass shards speckled amongst the sweaty, dancing people which stunk with a pungent odour of weed and bitter alcohol, strike number one,you would have been facing major remarks from your friend group.

Scurrying to a more closed-off space, the melancholy symphonies evaporating within the orchestra of voices either singing, making out or doing what the f*ck ever. You dont care. Never really have.

As your eyes search the dark sector which only was getting engulfed by the frat boys being provocative and total dumbasses, strike number two, you curse under your breath which was followed by a fog due to the freezing temperatures and how exposed the building came to be.

It was a 40 minute ride from campus, something you normally couldn’t put up with, nor would your friends in reality, but if they’re boyfriends did? They did too…meaning you’d be the last one out and no-one wants that, so you ,reluctantly, join them. Immediately regretting it when you saw the building, frankly it was creepy, had multiple floors and you needed to really squint you eyes to see it was a hospital. And it was pitch dark.

The sound of your pulse may be heard when your nervous, and you’re here to volunteer as a tribute and agree with that dilemma given the circumstances of the situation you have voluntarily put yourself in.

As your walking around trying to make it seem like your not hysterically going to breakdown in tears of you dont find your friends because thats super embarrassing like a lost puppy you cant help but feel pissed at your friends, one for leaving you and another for having toxic ass boyfriends that dont know how to communicate for shit.

A scoff escaped your lips in which your bottom lip was caught between your teeth in a way of dangerous comfort, due to the fact you can taste the metallic bitterness of your blood flushed against your tongue. Suddenly, reminding you of saltburn and you cant help but grimac-

Ayo, what the fu-

Your head darts to the person who rudely interrupted your reminiscent reminder of saltburn by shoving past you with a harsh tone.

And then You see Her.

The girl who raves off of attention, feeding off it, craving for it, addicted to it.

The girl who pays no mind to groups of boys, frat boys, any boys.

The girl who dreads life when a single day passes by without drugs, alcohol or a quick smoke. She never misses on the opportunity, gosh, shed be the one offering.

Your opposite

Your enemy

Your reason for hating college

Ellie Williams

Her harsh scowl interrupts your brain from processing a response, her auburn hair tied into her iconic half-up-half-down which makes you cream lowk annoyed.

“What the f*ck?” You say with a glare that could only be gifted to Ellie Williams.

“not my f*ckin fault your dumbass was in the way” you swear its almost like she has these interactions preplanned in her head because of how quick she always is to reply.

Either way, you cant deny Ellie is totally having you cream piss in your pants right now. The way she stands in front of you with her dark blue skinny jeans and her stupid grey hoodie, she looks like a hobo but pulls it off because her face was gifted.

Her forest green eyes stare into my pigmented ones, shes waiting for my response, and so are a few people near us…

“You know damn well i wasnt in your way Ellie” Is the only way you can fend or even muster up for yourself in this given moment, your heart doing palpitations, hands shaking but folded beneath your chest.

Ellie chuckles, she never backs down and she sure as hell won’t start doing that now, even with her toying with the fabric of her sleeve.

She’s always right, after all.

“Coulda fooled me.”

You roll your eyes, isn’t she creative? “oh wow Ellie, your awfully funny today, want a cookie?”

gosh she just made your blood boil.

She always knew how to get under your skin

“Yeah sure, snickerdoodle sounds good. So thanks.” you don’t even have to look at her to see her smile you could practically sense it, she enjoys these back and forths you guys have.

To tell the truth, you do too.

Doing the smart thing, and totally not because your scared since attention is on both of you and the music is starting to die down you walk away…well I say that but people are quick to block your so called path.

And Ellie grasps your arms before you could even think to push them away.

“Oh wow, running away already? What happened to the girl who would stay and deal with all of my snarky comments.” The feeling of her hand on your forearm sends my neurons crazy, you feel a blush rising up your cheeks.

And why the f*ck is everyone looking at us right now?

You can't help but feel the world freeze for a second, adrenaline too hard to cope, anger through the roof.

And everyone looking at us, the frat boys, the unholy aroma engulfing my nostrils.

Strike number three

Ellie immediately retracts her hand from my arm and her skilled hand hovers over the stinging feeling, which found itself on her left cheek.

Your action was like gasoline pouring on a bonfire, your slap enough to make Ellie's rage burst into a roaring flame.

“You f*cking c*nt” the auburn haired girl spews, her eyes starring daggers at you as her eyes quick gloss at the arrangement of people surrounding the two of you.

And with rapid pace you take the hint that thats your cue to leave another one of your problems…only this one cant be ran from.

“sh*t-sh*t-sh*t-sh*t-sh*t-sh*t-sh*t-sh*t” Is all that escapes your slightly parted lips as heavy breathing almost conceals your profanity whilst strands of hair undone from your ponytail, beads of sweat trickling down your temples. Hurriedly, trying to squeeze through the people towards the parking lot.

The pang in your chest, your heartbeat, so loud Ellie could hear from across the perimeter of the parking lot. Before you could even reach the bustop you feel a firm hand grasp ur arm, so tightly that zinc could feel malleable. You feel your eyes widen and your breath runs shaky.

Looking down, seeing the veiny, bony, tatted hand on your arm you could only guess..no..know this was Ellies hand. However, before you had any time to react her voice roars into your ears and you groan audibly making her spit profanity’s at you left and right like it was her job.

“You fucking bitch!”

“Slut!”

Jeez…wont she ever shut the fuck up…you thought?

Ellies eyebrows twitched, her slit becoming more defined, her eyes narrowed. Dangerous silence engulfed the air making you choke.

“The fuck did you just say?”.

You so fucked up, you internally curse yourself for a mistake like thinking out loud.

Pause, why is she looking at you like that…or why does the moon make her freckles so evident, her eyes mesmerising, her lips softer? The subtle shine of the moon making her attractive. No but why is she inching closer?

Why are you inching closer?

As her eyes stare into yours, she dosent have to say anything, Ellie’s eyes are hungry for you, shes hungry for you.

Her soft lips graze yours

Her eyes close

Her unstable breathing

She, you, kiss. A desperate kiss, a needy one its perfect. You both become one flesh, the auburns girls hands grip your waist as if your gonna leave her, you find your arms slithering around her cold neck as the sound of you guys making out cancels out the frat music, your heart beats syncing. Both of your breaths so hot, panting, trying to salvage the kiss before you pull away to catch your breath.

“Breathe, baby” you both have a moment of staring at each other, the air becoming hot. She grabs you into her arms again. Taking you as hers, your lips smashing with hers again. Only thing different is that, this time her hands roam around your body, touching you oh so desperately. It seems as if shes guiding you somewhere, suddenly, you hear her keys jingling, a car unlocking.

A car door opening.

Ellie pushes you into the backseat of her car, harshly before slamming the door behind her and her emerald eyes catch you in a trance of consent and you nod.

“I need you so bad Ellie…fuck”

“oh yeah?” her lips curl into that stupid smirk.

“yeah baby” you breathe out.

“show me how much you need me then”

And thats all you needed, your fingers find their way to ur clothed cunt, the area wet with ecstasy. You can feel her eyes tracing every one of your movements.

“so wet already? Didnt even need to touch you babe, huh?” Ellies hot breath sends chills through you as you arch your back at the sensation of your fingers rubbing circles on your panties, growing wetter, needier.

She looks up at you, her brow arched as your spread legs close.

“Why’d you stop baby?” she says before realising your shaking too much your fingers cant find the right rhythm on your clit to pleasure you. She chuckles, finding your humiliation comedic.

“Tell me what you want” you tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

“use your words” She grabs your wrist to stop you from guiding her fingers.

“I need you ell’s, your fingers, your tongue” you huff out.

Ellie smirks, dipping her head in between your thighs, making you subconsciously spread. Her lips grazing the inside of your thighs, kissing them occasionally before she spreads you wider with her fingers emitting a light sigh from you.

As her tongue makes contact with your clit, she skill fully flicks as if shes done this a hundred times before which…wouldnt be too far off (you dont hope). Your hips buckle as she increases the pressure of her tongue on your swollen clit, the darkened car filled with the noise of your wetness and your moans.

Before you knew it, she was inside of you. Increasing the speed. “Taking me so well, hm baby? Such a good girl” .

CBA FINISHING

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

COD OCs that I ship with each of the 141 boys part 1

Price:

Name: Amelia Price / Amelia Ò Carra

Relationship status: Ex Wife (it’s complicated)

Ethnicity: Irish and Italian

Nationality: Irish

Appearance: Light brown skin with warm undertones, curly (3B) chestnut hair, scattered moles across her face, a wide hooked nose, and hazel eyes.

Occupation: History Professor

They got married when John was a fresh face in the military and Amelia was still in college. While out at a bar, his military buddies caught him staring at her from across the room, and after a fair dose of making fun of him, one guy went over to her and started talking to her, her mom, and her sister, who were out celebrating her birthday. When the guy found out she was studying to teach history, the guy got all excited and was like, “you should come hang out at my table for a bit! My mate John loves history!” She was hesitant, as it was obvious the guy was trying to set her up with his friend, but her mom and sister all but shoved her out of the seat in their insistence she go.

Their meeting was awkward as hell, but by the grace of God, John left the bar with her phone number and an invitation to a local museum.

John was helplessly in love with Amelia. They were together for two years before getting married, and throughout their ten years of marriage, through thick and thin, sickness and in health, they were disgustingly in love.

But love doesn’t negate insecurity, fear, and paranoia. Over the years, John would become anxious that he wasn’t a good husband. He was away so often and couldn’t always keep his work and personal lives separate. Long absences, depressive episodes, nightmares… did she deserve to put up with all that?

And as time went on, and the missions he was sent on became more and more dangerous with higher and higher stakes, he started to fear that he wasn’t just neglecting her, but that being with him was actively putting her in danger. He knew intimately that the people he was fighting against wouldn’t hesitate to kill or torture her to get to him.

And it’s not like he could just retire. Millions of lives were at stake. It became a vicious cycle of feeling guilty for putting the fate of the world over his wife, then feeling guilty for feeling guilty for putting the fate of the world over his wife, so on and so on…

Amelia tried to put him at ease. She understood what he did when she married him, she wasn’t going to change her mind now. But her efforts were in vain. John became more and more distant, until he finally said that it would be best if they divorced.

Amelia was furious, even if some part of her knew it was coming. She made it very clear that she absolutely did not want a divorce and disagreed with every justification John threw at her. She eventually agreed to sign the stupid papers, but angrily told John not to think for a second that this was, “for her own good.” He wanted this, not her.

They didn’t speak for a while after the divorce. Partly because John was shipped out pretty soon after. They only spoke again months later, after John came back. He doesn’t know exactly why he called her, but he just felt like he had to. He had to let her know he was home and safe. It was a short, very awkward conversation.

He wasn’t home for long though, he was sent back out shortly after, and again when he got home months later, he had to talk to her again. He missed her desperately. When he was deployed he could distract himself, bury his emotions and focus solely on the mission, but that’s a luxury he didn’t have at home.

He regretted getting divorced before he even signed the damn papers, but he told himself over and over that it was the right thing to do, that he didn’t have a choice. But he was selfish. He didn’t care if it was the right thing to do, he missed her. Every cell of his body wanted her back, even if he knew he couldn’t have her.

Just talking to her wasn’t enough, he had to see her, even if it was only for a second. He made up some excuse about paperwork that he honestly couldn’t care less about and met her at their old shared home.

It was, again, awkward. Neither really knew what to say to the other, and Amelia clearly still felt betrayed, but despite all the tension, the longing was palpable. Neither wanted to say goodbye, but once they ran out of appropriate excuses to keep the awkward interaction from ending, they didn’t really have a choice. Despite both of them trying to keep their distance, the brief meeting ended with a hug that lingered too long, and a whispered, “I miss you,” “I miss you too.”

This became a pattern.

Whenever John would come home, he would call Amelia. Most of their interactions were brief, just checking in on one another, but sometimes their emotions got the better of them. Against their better judgment, they’d meet. They’d get dinner, or grab a drink. Sometimes she would invite him home for a drink, which almost always lead to desperate drunken kisses and hookups, which only made the pain of saying goodbye a thousand times worse.

Every time she allowed him in her home, in her bed, she wondered why she’d do this to herself, why John would do this to her. She couldn’t move on. She’d been on exactly one date since the divorce, that lasted all of two hours. She couldn’t help it, the thought of being with anybody else felt wrong, it made her ill. She knew she had to move on, that things with John wouldn’t work, no matter how badly she wanted them to, but every time he reached out to her, she didn’t have the strength to refuse him.

It was very tempting to put all the blame on John, he was the one who wanted the damn divorce in the first place, and now he’s making it impossible for her to heal and move on, but she knew she wasn’t blameless. At the end of the night, she was the one who brought him home, who laid beneath him, wrapped her arms and legs around his body and buried her face into his neck, begging him to hold her, kiss her, stay with her… she felt pathetic… weak… she knew that these nights always ended the same, he would leave and she would be alone again, choking back sobs as she promised herself it wouldn’t happen again. She knew she needed to put a stop to it, but she just couldn’t.

Kate was one of the few people who knew about John and Amelia’s complicated relationship. And she’s told him flat out, “you’re being a dick.” She told him that he can’t keep going back and forth, “you’re either with her or you’re not. You can’t have it both ways.” She’s urged him to just get back together with her already. It’s obvious that they’re still in love with each other and they clearly suck at being divorced. He needs to make up his mind and do it quick because Amelia’s not gonna put up with this whole shitty situation forever.

John knows Kate is right. She’s always right.

He wants to be with her, wants to get back together. He decides that if he makes it home again, he’ll tell her. Tell her that he’s done with goodbyes, that he wants to be hers again… if she’ll have him…

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Guess who applied for college??

[sailforvalinor]

Val Is Pretty Sure She Might Be Losing Her Mind, more at 11

[birdingbutch]

seriously looking into getting a Wildlife B.S.!! anyone who's pursued a similar program, what are some things you wish you had known before / wish you had better prepared for?

[moonrpg]

hey guys there is a lot of love in my heart ok

[snixx]

chop suey came on autoplay and im thinking about how I memorized linkin park's entire discography even though they were the furthest thing from my type because they were my ex best friend's favourite band. she doesn't know shit about any of my favourites but I didn't care. and how when I went to visit her in kolkata and didn't recognize the song she STILL ribbed on my music taste and "do you only listen to pop punk or something. system of a down is literally a classic you don't know anything" and when I asked if we could listen to linkin park instead she went "why do we always have to do what you want" like. no wonder enough for you was one of my top songs all those years I was neck deep in denial but my music taste never lies

[loverdude]

My senior show is also so stupid lol like I am never again in my life gonna put my artwork in a gallery setting that's just not something I enjoy at ALL or aspire to do but I have to do this whole big terribly stressful thing in order to graduate and it's SO DUMB

[dancing-with-stars]

guys. guys !!!!

[j-esbian]

i know it’s a common millennial gripe that kids are coerced into picking their life trajectory so young, that a lot of people pick college because they feel that it’s What You’re Supposed to Do, rather than what’s right for them, but like. despite all of that, i really thought i was different

[officialbillhader]

Was it the smartest idea to buy two taylor swift tickets right now when im about to have a lot of large purchases because of moving? No. Will i regret it after a few hours? Probably not

[fingertipsmp3]

Should I go to my graduation or not. Seriously

[khlur]

ik i only ever come here to complain at this point so let's continue in that vein