#i was gonna do more but my laptop crashed out of nowhere and it

[sunglassesmish]

not enough focus on tommy at the start of this scene

[countessofravenclaw]

A very Bizarre fic about Nina living at Castillo house

The tittle pretty much sums it up. Don't as me how or why. This i not supposed to be taken seriously. That being said, ENJOY!!! This was the origonal working title, but I couldn't change it in the end of the day, it fits too well with the vibe. Again, don't take his seriously, please, I was just having fun with an idea I couldn't get out of my head. So few thing to be aware of: 1. Germangie has never existed. 2. This exists in a time vacuum somewhere between Soy Luna Season 2 eps. 5 and 10. Dedicated to @calyxthenerd for the original idea

“Nina! Good that you’re finally home,” Ana closed her laptop when Nina walked into her mother’s house. 

“Great that it’s great that I’m home?” Nina raised her eyebrow at her mother. She wasn't usually this enthusiastic about her coming home. “I was at Roller like always.”

“Come on, sit with me,” Ana tapped the table. Was she nervous? Nina had zero idea why her mother would be nervous. 

“Okay…” Nina said skeptically as she sat down, “Mom, why are you acting all nervous?”

“Well, there is something I have been meaning to talk to you about,” Ana started speaking. “You remember when I went on that date last spring?”

“Yes…” Nina was feeling even more skeptical now, “You never told me anything about it. Have you been on more dates?”

“Actually yes,” Ana nodded, “We have been seeing each other for a while now.”

Her mother had actually been on multiple dates? With one man? The thought alone was astonishing Nina. “Okay… Well, that’s great… So, how long has this been going on for, and why are you telling me now?” 

“Well, that is because…”

*

“I didn’t even know something went beyond that one date. I had honestly forgotten about it,” Nina told Luna as they were walking down Blake's hallway. “Now, it has apparently been going on this whole time.”

“Wait, your mom has a boyfriend?” Luna bounced forward. “That is awesome! Or is it not?”

“No, not like that,” Nina shook her head, “I’m happy that she’s happy. I have never been against anything. Mom and Dad are over, the more distance between them the better. But they want us to meet. I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

“You weren’t expecting what?” Gastón came across them in the hallways, and instantly kissed Nina on her cheek. “I noticed your call in the morning but didn’t have time to call you back. What was it about?”

“Uhm, I’ll see you at class,” Luna said and turned to walk around the corner leaving them alone. 

“Something wrong?” Gastón looked at her after Luna had gone. 

“No, nothing is wrong,” Nina started as he grabbed her hand, “but things surely are happening.” 

“What does that mean?”

“Well,” Nina breathed, “Mom told me last night that what I knew as a “one date” has actually been a full-blown relationship these past months, and now they want us to have dinner together so we can all meet. Apparently, he also has a daughter.” 

“That is a lot of information.” Gastón looked at her. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know how I am feeling,” Nina shook her head, “It’s a lot and coming out of nowhere. Should have expected it at this point. One thing my parents know is how to make my life a mess.”

“Hey, come here,” Gastón wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned her head on his chest. “So, when is this dinner happening?”

“Today…” Nina mumbled. 

“So, it’s really happening fast?”

“Yes.” 

“Sooooo, you want me to come and gate crash?” 

“I don’t think that’s gonna work,” Nina laughed nervously, “Thanks though. I just—I don’t know anything about this man or his daughter. Mom didn’t give me much detail and you know how I get…”

“I do,” Gastón smiled at her, “But also, I know how amazing you are. You have nothing to be nervous about.”

“You’re biased,” Nina rolled her eyes. 

“Maybe a little bit,” Gastón kissed her quickly. “For a good reason. Call me when it’s all over.”

*

“We’re here.” Ana noted as she parked the car on the street. “Are you excited?” 

“That's one word for it,” Nina nodded while looking ahead, “You could have told me sooner, about all of this.”

“Well, you always complain how I’m not spontaneous,” Ana shook her head, “I am learning. Come on, we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Sure,” Nina nodded again. How else was she supposed to react to any of this? 

They walked in front of a big, white, modern house. It reminded her a lot of Gastón’s house. 

As her mother was ringing the doorbell, Nina discreetly opened her phone and checked the last text Gastón had sent her. She smiled at his reassuring words. 

“Welcome!” The door was opened up by a tall man with dark short hair. “Come in, come in.”

Nina followed her mother inside, kind of hoping that the man had not noticed her. 

“Nina,” She was snapped out of her thoughts by her mother grabbing her shoulder, “This is German Castillo. German, my daughter Nina.” 

“Great to meet you,” The man, German, handed his hand to Nina and she shook it. “We have heard so much about you.”

“We?” Oh right. This guy had a daughter as well. Nina really had a hard time keeping up.

“Sorry, sorry I am late,” A girl with light brown hair walked down the stairs in the living room. She looked about three, four years older than Nina. “I had to finish the chord progression.”

“I told you this was important.” 

“Well, I’m here now.” 

“So, this is my daughter Violetta,” German gestured to the girl. “I‘ve told you about Ana and this is her daughter Nina.” 

“Hi!” Violetta smiled, “Nice to meet you—”

“Mr. German!!!” Suddenly a loud voice came from the kitchen as a woman walked out of it flailing her arms around, “This is a disaster! The cloths—”

“Olga…” German groaned, “We have guests. You remember Ana? This is her daughter.”

“Well…” The woman turned around like lightning, “Aren’t you an adorable thing.” 

*

“So, you go to Blake Sount College?” German asked Nina as they were sitting at the dinner table. She still wasn’t that sure how this was actually going, but it was going. Everyone was pleasant and it wasn’t that awkward. “How do you like the school?”

“It’s great,” She answered, “The teachers are great.” 

“I have always appreciated that school,” German continued, “I wanted Violetta to go there, but…”

“But I decided to be scandalous and go to music school,” Violetta rolled her eyes from the other side of the table. “I mean, he is being really supportive of my career—”

Her phone started ringing suddenly. 

“I’m sorry,” She looked at the screen, “I have to take this. It’s Leon.”

“But Violetta!” The German apparently tried to protest, “Leon can wait. It can’t be important! You don’t need to talk to him 24 hours a day.”

But it apparently wasn’t working as Violetta got up from the table. 

“Leon, Leon and always Leon.” German seemed to mumble to himself. 

Nina’s phone also dinged suddenly. “Mom, Luna sent me a message I need to answer. Can I?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ana nodded. “Luna is her best friend—” She explained to German after Nina had gone. “—like I told you, Nina used to struggle socially, but she has really come out of her shell in the past year. Luna has had a huge influence.” 

“That’s great to hear,” German responded. “Having friends of her age is always great.”

Violetta returned to the table. 

“What did Leon want?” German asked. 

“Relax Dad,” Violetta rolled her eyes, “he called me to tell me that they were boarding and taking off soon.” She looked at Ana. “Leon is my boyfriend. He and his band have been filming in Columbia.” 

“Luna was giving me a lowdown about a step combinations,” Nina returned to the table. 

“It’s okay,” Violetta smiled, “We were just talking about how Dad doesn’t approve of my boyfriend.”

“I do approve!” German protested. 

“You just otherwise almost choked when I told you about him?” 

“You were a child back then!”

“And you still treat me like one now—” Violetta mumbled something but got interrupted by a door opening.

“I’m back!” A girl about Violetta’s age—maybe a year older or something—with blonde hair walked in. “Oh, you’re still doing this?”

“This is—” German got up from the table, “—Ludmila. She’s…”

“I’m the daughter of his ex-wife.” Ludmila interrupted, “She’s a psychopath and in the mental hospital.”

“Okay,” German laughed awkwardly, “Pricilla is getting the help she needs. During the annulment it was deemed best that Ludmila stayed here… So, that’s a very good segway to the topic at hand.” 

“What topic?” 

“Well, as it has been months now, and for us, the natural next step in the relationship is moving into together.” 

“What?”

*

“Moving in? Moving in! I literally heard about this few days ago, and now we’re moving!” Nina was sure she was making a rail on the floor she was pacing. “Why am I ever expecting to see what is coming anymore?”

“Nina,” Gastón, who had been leaning on a bookcase while Nina had been going off, grabbed her hand to make her stop pacing. “Look at me for a moment. Take a deep breath.”

“Okay…” Nina breathed in and breathed out, “This just isn’t something I thought was going to be happening. At the same time, the fact that Mom didn’t tell me about this at all, maybe it was because it really is serious… I should have known.”

“No one could have seen this coming,” Gastón brushed a lock of hair behind Nina’s ear, “Don’t beat yourself up about that. This is a super big whiplash, move like that from your home.”

“That’s the thing,” Nina shook her head, “It’s not that. I’ve been between two houses my whole life, never truly been allowed to settle in one place. I don’t have a childhood home. The place where I was born, I couldn’t even tell you where it even was and any memories I might have had, are not good. I don’t have a problem moving. The house we live in now with Mom, we’ve only been there for maybe three years. I guess it's just how unexpected this is.” 

“So, you do think you could handle it?” Gastón asked.

“I guess so,” Nina shrugged, “You know how much I over think. In the end, it’s not that bad… Maybe it could work. The man was nice enough and his daughter was really nice. I want Mom to be happy.”

“Maybe it will go well?” Gastón suggested. 

“Maybe,” Nina smiled nervously.

“So, where is the place you’re moving to?” Gastón asked next. 

“Esc. 666 Bajada Antonia 1 Puerta 237, Cornellá de Llobregat, And 20899.” Nina read off her phone. 

“Seriously?” Gastón suddenly questioned. 

“Yes?” Nina looked at him confused, “What is it?”

“That’s like two blocks away from mine,” Gastón looked at Nina. 

“Really?” Nina looked at the address again, “But yours is Puerta 736 Lugar Benjamín 56.”

“And if you take a left from there and then another left and finally a right, you’re at Bajada.” Gastón explained, “It’s not even a kilometer, like only 500 meters or so. I always walked that way when in middle school since Hoja was up north.” 

“Well, that will make this better at least,” Nina let herself smile and wrapped her arms around Gastón’s neck. 

“I’ll be right there if and when you need me.” He said after kissing her. “By the way, you never told me the guy’s name. Since you’re moving in there, I think it’s pretty appropriate that I know too.”

“Yeah, of course,” Nina nodded, “He’s this quite successful engineer, apparently has this whole company. German Castillo.”

“German Castillo?” Gastón's face suddenly turned shocked to say the least. 

“Yes,” Nina looked at him concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Uhm, so…” Gastón ran his hand behind his neck for a moment, “There is nothing wrong…just uh, we have lived there a long time and Mom and Dad obviously know him. I think they have been invited to bunch of parties held there and stuff. To put it bluntly, they don’t like him and think he’s weird.”

“Why don’t they like him?” Nina questioned. She couldn’t say that she knew German Castillo well. Isla and Marco had excellent judgment.

“I honestly don’t even know,” Gastón shook his head, “It’s just some stuff I’ve overheard. They’ve never said it and… now I am actually doubting myself. It might not even be the case. I should have never said anything. Your mom probably knows what she’s doing.”

“Not everyone survives her...” Nina laughed slightly.

***

“German!” German Castillo had been peacefully drinking tea that Olga had just made him in the kitchen and reflecting on his finally pleasant life, when that peace was rudely interrupted. 

“Is what Vilu told me true?” Now he was faced by his unpleasant as a surprise and apparently furious sister-in-law. 

“Depends on what she has told you,” German responded, annoyed. “I am more wondering why I ever gave you the key.” 

“German Castillo! When are you going to stop collecting women!” Angie almost shouted. 

“Oh, so that’s what Violetta told you?” German started to realize. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation.” 

“This is not about who owes who what?” Angie rolled her eyes. “I am worried, about Violetta, about you too, as your friend. May I remind you of your track record.?”

“You really don’t…” German tried to protest but Angie didn’t appear to be hearing. 

“Woman who went psychotic after you jilted her on the altar, a con-artist who you almost also married—German, Esmeralda just got convicted, it hasn’t even been a year—and a psychopath, who almost killed Violetta, her own daughter and me, and that’s the one who you actually married.”

“I am very well aware of all of that,” German sighed, “but you can rest assure, I’ve gotten it this time.”

“Are you sure about that?” Angie still didn’t look convinced. “Again, Esmeralda is in jail, Pricilla in the closed ward and Jade could have easily been too… You know, the common denominator is YOU. Who even is this woman who you are planning to move in here?” 

“If you would let me explain,” German continued exasperated, “Funny you brought Esmeralda’s trial up. Ana is a lawyer…”

“No,” Angie shook her head, “That redhead? You seriously decided to take out the only woman in your legal team? Who helped in putting away your con-artist ex-fiancée.” 

“I invited her for coffee,” German started defending himself, “She did an excellent job and… we got along splendidly. You haven’t even met her, properly.”

“I am not doubting her,” Angie sighed, “I am doubting you.” 

“Well, you aren’t getting an opinion. Her and her daughter will move here on Sunday.”

“Daughter?” Angie asked again, “So, you’re collecting stepdaughters as well? You remember how that went the last time?”

“You do realize that Ludmila thrived here. Your point doesn’t really stand. And you haven’t met her either.” German shook his head, “She’s a lovely girl. She goes to the best school in the city, Blake South College. She’s smart, studious, creative and extremely well mannered. It is amazing, there will be no trouble, boys, chaos, anything. It’s delightful.”

“I can imagine,” Angie still didn’t look convinced. 

“You are going to love them…and what are you doing here anyway?” German finished. 

“To get Vilu,” Angie stated, “She’s coming with me to the ultrasound, since Pablo is stuck at work, unfortunately. We won’t be able to find out the baby's gender this time around due to it.”

“We won’t?” Violetta’s voice rang as she walked to the kitchen. “Awww, I was looking forward to it.” 

“I know, but we can’t find out without the father being present,” Angie ran a hand on her stomach, “We’ll go again in two weeks, and you can come then as well. How about we stop at the mall to get a few things for the nursery.?” 

“Oh yes!” Vilu perked up, “I saw this cute teddy bear on Pinterest the other day. Perfect for my baby cousin, be it a girl or boy.” 

“It is a good thing that baby blue nursery works either way,” Angie smiled.

“OH, then if we're going shopping I wanna stop by Bartolomea,” Vilu continued, “I wanna get more things for decorating the room for Nina.”

“Oh yes, I was just talking with your father about that,” Angie commented.

“I thought that since Dad is forcing a move down her throat, the least I could do was to make her room look nice,” Violetta smiled, “I asked her what she wants, but she didn’t have much ideas.” 

“You've been talking to her?” German questioned. 

“I asked her number when they were here,” Violetta shrugged, “What, was I not supposed to? Of course, I was supposed to, that’s what great stepsisters do, and I have been proven to be an amazing one. Ludmila is gonna help me decorate once she gets back from the class she is teaching at the Studio.” 

“Well, you have fun then.” German nodded. “It is great that you’re helping out.”

“We will,” Vilu smiled back as she and Angie started walking through the door, “I’m gonna be using your credit card!” 

***

“The room is nice,” Nina said as she stacked the last box on top of the other one. She went to grab her phone from the bed and showed a brief panorama of the room on a video call. “Violetta has been pretty much bombing me with interior decoration questions the whole week.”

“Well, she did a good job,” Gastón responded as Nina sat back down on the bed. From what the phone screen showed he was sitting on his own bed in his room. “I told you everything was going to turn out fine.”

“I guess so…” Nina sighed.

“So, your first class is at 8, right?” Gastón changed the subject, surprisingly to school. 

“You know my schedule better than I probably do myself,” Nina noted. “But, yes, Ms. Fernandez’s Monday 8 am English class.” 

“Good, I’ll pick you up at 7:30.” 

“Wait…”

“I am not taking any buts anymore,” Gastón grinned on the other side of the screen, “Before you haven’t wanted me to do a round trip because “you’re in a completely different direction”. Well, that excuse isn’t working anymore, so I am driving you to school. We’re not actually having this conversation. Tomorrow, 8:30.”

“I’ll be ready,” Nina smiled. Seriously, the fact that Gastón lived so close now, felt so great. 

“You can’t blame me for wanting to see you as the first thing in the morning.” 

“No, of course not. I haven’t thought of it that way. It will make the morning much better.” 

“I mean that is only if—” Gastón started saying with a mischievous smile growing on his face. 

“If what?”

“Depends on how you feel about sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

“Wouldn’t you get in trouble for that too?” Nina laughed slightly while blushing. 

“Depends, Mom and Dad won’t know if they aren’t even here… they are going somewhere for the weekend, as always. Business in Brazil or something.” Someone yelled for Gastón in the background, “But not at the moment… I need to go. See you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Nina responded. The call disconnected actually just in time as the door of her new room opened and her mother walked in. 

“You got everything in order here?” Ana asked.

“Yep,” Nina nodded when she put the phone down. 

“Good,” Ana nodded, “I was actually thinking, Blake is actually quite far—”

“I got that covered already,” Nina responded, “Gastón’s driving me. He lives close by.”

“He does?” Ana questioned.

“Few blocks away.”

“That should not be surprising, given Isla’s immaculate taste. I have always liked this area.” Ana remarked, “Are you fine otherwise? This has happened quite fast.”

“Mom, I’m fine,” Nina sighed, “I want you to be happy.” 

“Good to hear that.”

“Did you ever actually talk to Dad about this?” Nina asked next. Mom had said that he knew about this. 

“I told him how it is. Informed him that we were moving. There is nothing to talk about.” Ana responded. “You’re not changing schools, and this is actually closer to his apartment than before. Nothing breaking the custody agreement.”

Nina rolled her eyes internally when the custody agreement got mentioned. It was surprising that her parents didn't need an actual court order. Thankfully, she’d be 18 in about nine months and the “custody agreements” and everything else to do with co-parenting would never be brought up again. 

***

“Thank you, Olga,” German sipped his cup of tea behind his daily newspaper. 

“Morning Dad,” Violetta walked to the table. “Ludmila said that she’s sleeping in, so we won’t be seeing her in the morning.” 

“Morning,” he nodded, “What are you doing today?”

“Well, the meeting with my label got canceled so we’re gonna go and meet up with Fran and Diego. Fran wants to show me a few of the house listings they are looking into.” 

“We?” German raised his eyebrows, “As in…is Leon coming with you?”

“Yes,” Vilu stated nonchalantly, “But that’s like in the afternoon. I’ll try to finish some sheet music in the morning.”

“Why didn’t you start with Leon going as well?”

“Because that's not the most relevant information,” Vilu looked at him annoyed.

“How is it not relevant?”

“How is it?” Vilu rolled her eyes, “Dad, I am an adult…”

“Morning,” Nina had walked down the stairs, while pulling on some sort of a navy blazer. 

“Morning. Is that Blake's uniform?” German greeted her with enthusiasm that made Violetta raise her eyebrow. 

“Yes,” Nina responded, also seeming just a tad confused. 

“Well, it looks very stylish,” German continued, “don’t you agree Vilu?”

“Well, I am not that into plaid…” Violetta wasn’t sure what Dad was trying to make her say. She knew why he was so curious about Blake, but surely, he knew that she was too old to start attending now. 

“No one is into plaid,” Nina shook her head, “I don’t really know that much about style, but one of my friends could go on a rant about how ugly the uniforms are.”

“I think they are elegantly classic, and extremely appropriate,” German remarked. “So, what classes do you have today?”

“English, math and history,” Nina recounted. 

“Uuu, I loved math in school,” German continued, “What are you doing?”

“We’re starting calculus,” Nina started saying. “It has been fine, our teacher is pretty good.”

��Well, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask.” Vilu wasn’t sure if she wanted to cringe or facepalm on Dad’s enthusiasm. Just because Nina went to Blake, it probably didn’t mean that there was only studying in her life. But that was what Dad obviously was harping on to impress his new stepdaughter. 

“Because we all love to hear what sort of math you all did in the 80s,” Vilu piped up, before turning to Nina, “You don’t need to humor him, just to make him feel better.”

“I’m just trying to help.” German raised his hand up in surrender when the doorbell rung suddenly. 

“Olga probably is busy, so I’ll get it.” German got up from the table and walked to the door. 

“Hello.” Behind the door stood a boy in his teens, who looked vaguely familiar to German but he wasn’t sure why. He was sure he hadn’t met this boy before. He remembered all the boys who had come to his house. This one was looking at him quite curiously. 

“Uh, Hello?” German decided to respond. He realized quite quickly that the boy was wearing a Blake Uniform too. “What… Can I help you? Are you in the wrong place?”

“I don’t think so,” The boy’s accent was also kind of familiar. “I’m looking for Nina.” 

“I’m ready!” Nina showed up at the door, clearly knowing the boy. “Well, bye German, Violetta! I’ll see you after school.” 

“Did Nina already go?” Ana arrived downstairs while holding her laptop. 

“Yes…” German scratched his head after they had gone. He could have sworn he had seen the boy put some hair behind Nina’s ear as he was closing the door… “She just left with her friend.”

“No, her friend didn’t pick her up,” Ana shook her head. 

“Well, that’s what happened,” German insisted, confused. “I was there.” 

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” Ana said while sitting down at the table. “Gastón is Nina’s boyfriend. She’ll be getting a ride from him, from this point on. His family lives close by.” 

“A boyfriend?” German looked astonished for a moment, “That was her boyfriend?”

“Dad, take deep breaths…” Violetta started saying, clearly quite amused.

“No, I am okay,” German tried to play it cool and sat back down, “I am just surprised. I didn’t know. You never mentioned it. Is it a new thing?”

“Not really,” Ana was still just scrolling something on her laptop, “They’ve been together since the start of last summer. I am not actually sure how long they have known each other, though, since they were friends before. He’s a senior at Blake so they met there.”

“A senior?” German questioned, “Wasn’t Nina a junior?”

“Yes? What does that have to do with anything?” 

“So, he's older than her? And now they’re in a car, alone, together?”

“I am not understanding where you are going with this?” Ana looked suspicious.

“These sorts of things are hard for Dad, you have to forgive him,” Violetta said as slowly as she could.

***

“I was looking forward to some peaceful life with a wonderful woman and her daughter, but first thing I find out in the morning is that she has a boyfriend. Why does everyone have a boyfriend?”

“German, we were supposed to look over this offer from Australia,” Ramallo sighed. 

“I could swear I have heard that accent before,” German didn’t appear to be listening. 

“Well, what sort of an accent?” Ramallo gave up. 

“Only thing I can think of is the Cordoban, but that can’t be right…”

“Well, the only Cordobans around here are the Peridas.” Ramallo suggested. 

“They don’t have a child,” German protested.

“Actually,” Ramallo corrected, “About 12 years ago, when I worked with Marco, he and Isla did have a 5-year-old son. I don’t think they talk about him much.” 

“Ramallo, can I speak with Dad for a moment?” Violetta walked into the room. 

“Sure,” Ramallo nodded and got up.

“Fancy to catch you alone,” Vilu grinned and took the chair Ramallo had left vacant. 

“You literally banished Ramallo away from here,” German noted, “So what is up?”

“I’d like to talk about your performance this morning.” 

“What performance?”

“Dad,” Violetta tilted her head in disapproval, “I get that you're quite becoming fond of your new stepdaughter. She’s smart, likes studying and reading, she’s everything I was not.” 

“Oh no…” German tried to protest. 

“I am not blaming you for that, I know that you love me for who I am. You don’t want me to change,” Violeta continued, “But don’t treat her as a do over, because you will make the same mistakes again. You already started.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You didn’t notice the choking that was happening after the “boyfriend” got mentioned?” Vilu raised her eyebrow. “Dad, let's be real here.”

“I was surprised,” German tried to protest again, “She’s young.” 

“Older than I was when I met Leon,” Vilu stated simply, “But we all know how you reacted to that. Nina’s not your daughter, she has her own Dad who is alive, and her boyfriend was here before you too. I am saying this because I love you, and really don’t want you to blow it.”

“I am not going to blow it, as you say.”

“I’m not gonna let you,” Violetta crossed her arms, “I know how you are.”

***

“It feels like you have more books when they’re in a box, opposed to when they’re on a shelf,” Gastón remarked as Nina handed him another book from the box. 

“I am not even sure how I fit everything in these boxes,” Nina shook her head, “But those were the last ones.” 

“Good,” Gaston nodded and walked over to the bookcase. 

“Remember…”

“...put them in alphabetical order,” Gastón completed Nina’s sentence before she was able to fully even start. “I know how to organize books. If you want to micromanage, grow 20 centimeters.”

“I’m not micromanaging,” Nina laughed as Gastón put the last books on the top shelf of the bookcase, where she never could have reached herself. 

She leaned on her elbow on one of the piles of boxes… Which ended up being an extremely bad idea as the top box was not completely on top of the lower one and empty, so her weight made it tilt and fall, which made her lose her balance. 

Arms went around her waist as Gastón caught her before she fell. 

“How? You were on the other side of the room.” Nina said as he pulled her back up, still holding onto her waist tightly. She placed her hand on his upper arms. 

“What?” He smirked, “You think I don't have a sixth sense for catching you in my arms, when that’s where I prefer, you’d be at all times?”

Nina took a shaky breath. How did he manage to make that smirk so attractive? Who was she kidding, everything he did was extremely attractive…

She got completely lost in his eyes and there was only one thing she was able to think of. 

She grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him into a kiss, which he responded immediately. 

Nina had always known that Gastón had much more experience in kissing than she did, not that she cared nor even wanted to know with whom. Even if she had no one to compare it to, it had become quite clear all the way from the start of their relationship that he was extremely good at kissing. Something that she didn’t mind at all, and it was actually making her so much more confident. 

As they started getting more heated, Nina pulled on Gastón’s neck, insinuating that they should move toward where they could continue this in a more comfortable position. She laced her fingers into his hair, when she noticed him turning stiffer in his movements. 

“What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?”

“Look, I absolutely adore you,” Gastón was looking at her quite seriously. “But I really don’t want to risk getting caught doing anything over here. Wouldn’t exactly be the best impression, especially on your stepdad. Your Dad is one in the million chill, not everyone’s gonna be like that.” 

“I guess—”

It turned out that Gastón had been right to be cautious as the door to the room suddenly opened. 

“German?” Nina responded as the door revealed her new stepfather. 

“I just wanted to see if you needed help with something, like the boxes.” 

“We got it covered,” Nina responded gesturing to the moving boxes, “They’re actually empty.” 

“Well, weren't you efficient…” German seemed to think what to say next.

“Gastón helped me.” 

“Oh yes, your…boyfriend,” German hadn’t appeared to notice Gastón before now, and was now furrowing his brow. 

“Yes, I’m her boyfriend,” Gastón placed his hand on Nina’s shoulder. “Great to meet you.” 

“You got to school okay? Drove safe?”

“Yes,” Nina nodded, “He knows the way. I mean I can’t even drive myself.”

“Under-aged drivers cause 50 % of the most road accidents.” 

“It was actually only 10 %.” 

“I do have to ask, because you look extremely familiar, but I am sure we haven’t met?” German looked at Gastón again, “My secretary thought you might be the son of his former colleague…”

“Well, was his name Marco Perida? Because people always say I look like my dad,” Gastón shrugged. 

“So, you are a Perida?”

“Have you looked at the time?” Gastón suddenly asked Nina. 

“Oh, were gonna be late soon.” Nina checked her clock ring, “Luna’s gonna blow a casket.”

“Wait, where are you going?” German asked as Nina grabbed Gastón’s hand and they walk edout of the door. 

“To Roller. Our roller-skating team trains there.” Nina said quickly. “I… don’t actually know the way though.” 

“It’s in a walking distance,” Gastón responded, “I’ll show the way. It was nice to meet you Sir… or whatever you would prefer.”

“Mr. Castillo is fine,” German responded. After Nina and Gastón had gone he muttered to himself. “Roller Skating?”

“Well, that went well,” Gastón remarked as they were walking down the stairs, “It would have been a different story if he had come in five minutes earlier.”

As they walked in the living room, they heard singing accompanied by someone playing the piano. 

“Las estrellas no se leer Y la luna no bajaré No soy el cielo, ni el sol Tan solo soy Pero hay cosas que si sé Ven aquí y te mostraré En tu ojos puedo ver Lo puedes lograr, prueba imaginar…”

“Oh, Nina!” It had been Violetta singing with some guy who had been playing the piano. The music stopped as they came downstairs. “This is my boyfriend Leon. Leon, this is my new stepsister, Nina. Daughter of Dad’s new girlfriend and they live here now. And that is her boyfriend…but I didn’t catch your name this morning.” 

“Gastón.” Gastón nodded. 

“We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Nina started saying. 

“You didn’t,” Vilu waved away, “We were just vocalizing a little bit.”

“The song was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Violetta leaned her head on Leon's shoulder, “First song we ever wrote together. Either of you do any music?”

“Gastón plays the piano,” Nina said before he was able to open his mouth. 

“I actually don't,” He protested. “I took a few lessons while being like ten, twelve, cause Mom and Dad do… it’s kind of this workaholic’s destresser for them. Nina’s the artistic one. Her lyricism cannot be matched, even if I am biased.” 

“You write lyrics?”

“I write in general,” Nina blushed, “He’s over selling, but I have done some lyrical stuff.”

“You’ll have to show me some time,” Violetta started getting excited. “I could work it to a song…”

“Maybe someday,” Nina looked at her ring again, “We really need to get going.”

“Oh, before you go,” Violetta started speaking, “Has Dad been okay?”

“He’s fine. What do you mean?”

“Just making sure,” Violetta nodded, “If he starts acting weirdly, like dressing up or selling apples out of a cart, tell me.” 

“Okay…”

“Vilu, he surely wouldn’t ever do that again.” Leon laughed slightly. 

“It’s my father… You can never know.”

***

“Wow…” Luna exclaimed as she walked in with Nina, “This place is fancy.”

“You live in a mansion,” Nina noted. 

“Yeah, but it’s not like I own it,” Luna shook her head, “And Ambar lives there. This is your home.” 

“I guess so,” Nina nodded. “But I don’t own this either. We just kind of live here.” 

“Still a fancy house,” Luna twirled around for a moment, “It’s must be fun—”

She suddenly slammed into someone. That someone was German Castillo. “Who are you?”

“I’m Luna sir, Mister…” Luna started babbling, “I’m sorry about slamming into you, but I wasn’t looking ahead of me, because my head is often on the moon… Get it? Moon, because I am Luna…”

“Luna…” Nina signaled that she would shut up. “This is German Castillo, Mom’s boyfriend. My best friend Luna.” 

“Uhm, nice to meet you,” German looked like he had been attacked by a flock of birds. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Luna continued, “Great house you got here. I honestly quite like big houses, or I’ve been in those a lot, Mom and Dad work in them… that’s we why came here from Mexico, even if I didn’t want to, but then I found roller…”  

“Well, uh, I am busy, so it was nice to meet you…Lina.” German practically ran to his office. When he sat down, he had to scratch his head. Ana’s daughter had seemed practically perfect in every way, but there was a boyfriend and a best friend, you could not make heads or tails of her. Not to mention roller skating out of all of the world’s arbitrary sports. 

This was confusing.

***

“Gastón, come here for a sec?” Gastón was just about to walk into the kitchen when his parents called him into the living room. 

“What is it?”

“Didn’t you say last week that Nina was moving?” Isla closed her laptop screen. 

“Oh, yeah, I did.” Gastón nodded. “Ana has a new boyfriend.” 

“Well, that’s great. How’s she taking it?”

“She’s fine,” Gaston nodded. 

“Where did she move?” Marco had also put the tablet he had been reading away. 

“666 Bajada Antonia 1 Puerta 237,” Gastón responded, “It’s close, which is great. She’s finally letting me drive her to school. I did tell you this.” 

“Isn’t that—?” 

“I…”

“Spill it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Gastón sighed, “But yeah… It’s the Castillo house.” 

“Ana’s dating German Castillo?!” Gastón saw his parents share an alarmed glance.

“I know what you think of him, but please don’t make a thing of it…”

“Who said we were going to?” Isla shook her head, “I was gonna call Ana anyway, just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Invite them for dinner,” Marco suggested as Isla pulled her phone out. 

“Good idea.”

Gastón blew some air out of his mouth. Now he had done it— Note to self, never tell his parents anything ever again.

{}

Soo... again, THIS IS NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!! This seriously has zero plot, besides some cutesy Gastina. I know that the end sets up for some more of this, but as of now, I am not planning on continuing this. But I can always be convinced otherwise...

[sims3tutorialhub]

Hello! So, this time I'm kinda looking for opinions on one theory I have about "fixing" something. So, if you have any other idea apart from my theory, everything is welcome.

I am basically having this problem where my game keeps crashing and I could always fix it. But this time I'm trying everything I can and there's no way. I mean, there's one way left but it's basically taking out some CC, sorting it out. But that's already not an option for me cause I had already done that before installing. The thing is, I had about the same amount of CC as you (30gb) sims3pack + packages. Recently, I installed some new CC (clothes and objects as simspack and 3-5 new mods from MTS) and now everything has gone up to 35gb. (28gb being on DCcache, sims3pack basically). So my game up until now has runned fine, with it's lags and crashes here and there but everything normal. Y'know, after a while of playing it crashes. Sure, that's okay. But now I'm trying to play in the save file I'm always playing. With it's Nraas register, overwatch, master controller settings, and other mods to make it run better. The only thing is that I'm not able to play for maybe more than 5 minutes on my main household. I also have other households on the same savefile. That's because I like to play rotationally and have my own sims as townies so my savefiles get big and heavy just because of that and not generations. And so here comes the problem. The crashing always ocurs in less than five minutes in any household living in a house the same size or bigger than a medium sized lot. I'm aware that even though this didn't happend before at all and I could perfectly play on them for hours, I have installed new CC on my game.

This is where my theory comes in, and where I could really use some opinions couse I'm really lost. I admit that what's causing this is well... Me, pushing my game to load more content. But bear with me, I had been wanting to buy a better graphics card for my PC. Mainly for sims 3, but I'm scared it's gonna do nothing. I have a laptop which, I have brought up before in this Tumblr, and in this laptop it doesn't matter how many cc and mods the game has,(maybe nothing at all) it's always gonna crash eventually. With vanilla sims, it crashes after 3 hours of playing. BUT, the game runs super smooth and waaay better than in the PC even with 35gb of CC. This is because it's basically a MSI gamer latptop from last year. i7, with 32gb of ram and a very good graphics card which I don't remember right now. But it's basically 75 times better than the PC's Nvidia GeForce 1050 ti In a 0-100% scale. (PC is an i3 and has 16gb RAM, which is a really good but,✨ sims 3✨ xd) I'm not gonna buy one like the laptop cause is really expensive but I was thinking about something in between if my game could run as close as good as in the laptop. The thing is I'm really confused because I'm really scared that even if I buy a new one, the PC could still crash at this problem I have just like the laptop crashes in seconds, that's why I brought it up. I don't want a smooth game if it's still gonna crash :')

I know my PC well, it doesn't crash inadvertently like the laptop, if I play vanilla sims no way it's crashing in 3hours. With CC it's very possible, but not vanilla. I have checked how much memory utilisizes and it's 7-8 gb of memory. out of 16, that's good, it's not bad. But again, it crashes at this houses outta nowhere. I now a solution is to avoid playing in these, but there's no way now I gotta make smaller ones when I have been playing in these for so many years. So there ya go. I could really use some advice as to what should I do about the graphics card thing, if it's better for me to get a CPU or what. Not both, that's a lot of money,I know both are important for gaming, but I can't afford it. Sorting out my CC it's not an option I already do that all the time, I clean my save to 36-40 mb with save cleaner and I convert everything I can to sims3pack because Packages make my game impossible to play. But I'm definitely not getting rid of my downloads folder 😅

Hii!!

Okay so, my advice: 1. Your save file is probably massive by now and its just too much for the game, I would check if its a memory issue (aka watch your memory as you play as sims can only go up to 3.6GB). I would also check other saves as if they work this is likely it 2. Definitely stop installing things as sims3pack, those things are awful. Just for shits and giggles remove your DCCache folder and see if it works then. 3. I am guessing you used save cleaner, s3mo/cc magic and all that jazz 4. No GPU or CPU is going to save you here sadly. I7 is a good CPU already. And laptop is never going to be as good as PC (my opinion) as it can never pull as much power as a PC. 5. Really all you can do is play a smaller world, less sims, kill off townies, and less decorated houses. Wish I could help but sims just is a 32bit program and nothing we do is going to fix that sadly!

[peppertaemint]

I'm the Taemin and Ten enthusiast lmfao I don't believe they're in love but I do think they had either an crush or an admiration crush. Taemin said he had a crush but I have no idea of the translations were iffy or not but the word crush was used when Taemin was talking about Ten. I just love their bond. They were all the time doing something and gushing about each other. I was watching one interview where Taemin includes Ten out of nowhere and it made me giggle. He was talking about all the 'Taes' at SM should collaborate but then he adds Ten who does not fall under the Tae territory 😂 It's been almost 3 yrs since SuperM were together so I am interested to see how all of their dynamics are. I feel the same way about Baek and Taeyong. While I don't think they're anywhere close to being in love or close to dating but I do think a little admiration crush exists. Remember when Taeyong put his and Baekhyun's SuperM name stickers on his laptop? Lmao Too cute 😂

TaeTaeTaeTae...Ten. Lol. That was so cute, and out of no where. And I'm looking forward to that unit happening btw. Welcome back, Anon! 😍

The moment you were talking about when he said crush is in this compilation. I'm not sure about the translation. It could just be bro-crush or could probably be taken another way. It reminds me of Jungkook using a similar phrase about RM, and a Korean friend at the time said it could be taken either way. I think that realistically, you're rarely going to have some gay confession on camera. Korea is just not there yet (not saying it's impossible) but I think that realistically it probably means platonically or thereabouts.

My guess is that as dancers, they were enamoured with one another. I get it because I think they're both easy to be enamoured with! It would be like meeting someone you understand to a degree - someone who has that similar passion, even more so than other "idols". So I totally agree with you, Anon!

Now Baekhyun and Taeyong... they're a bit more eyebrow raising just because Baekhyun is unbelievably mischievous and Taeyong has an awkward panic side. Like, Taemin is awkward and weird but he owns it and somehow it works 9/10 whereas Taeyong sort of has crash and burn awkward vibes at times (mostly re SuperM here as I can't properly judge him at the helm of NCT).

Baekhyun just has this way of looking at certain people like he's gonna eat them up. Lol. Idk he's wild. I hope when SuperM comes back he goes full throttle.

[livelle]

HI HI I HOPE YOUVE HAD AN AMAZING DAY OR NIGHT!

I want this word literally just a word

diplodocus ( it a dinosaur I think I spelt it right I'm pretty sure it tubbos favourite I cant remember)

It my favourite word to say

Mabey with tommy or ranboo?

LOVE YOU!!!

a/n: MILO, MY LUVVVV AAAA I LOVE YOU MY DEAR!!! I'M SO GLAD I'M FINALLY DOING YOUR REQUEST!!! I'm sorry it took a while, but this request is so cutee aaaaaaaa :))))). So I hope u like this, UR AMAZING MY MILO, MY SWEETHEART!

Sickness & the Diplodocus

a Ranboo/ You!!

summary: You were not feeling too great, you woke up sick. It was very out of nowhere, but, fortunately, you had your best friend Ranboo who took care of you. You still could laugh though, a weird documentary about a certain dinosaur making you smile.

PLATONIC!!

TW: sickness, headaches, throwing up,

comfort!!!

You awoke in cold sweat, your breathing fast. You had no idea why you felt so weird, awful even, and just sick. You tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in your head made you fall back onto your pillow again. You were so cold, and also hot at the same time, it was almost confusing. You coughed, your throat dry and your body in need of water. Again, you tried to get up, but it worsened the pain lots. So the only solution was getting your roommate to help you a bit, even though you didn´t want to burden him. ´Ranboo?’ no answer. ‘RANBOO?!’ you yelled with all the air you had in your lungs, your voice cracking mid-call. This, however, did work, and he came crashing through the doorway. ‘Yea- Woah, Y/n, are you okay??’ He looked at your state, and immediately sat at the side of your bed. You shook your head. ‘No, I don’t think so’ you weakly said, and he put a hand on your forehead, checking your temperature. ‘Gosh, you’re so warm, and you’re sweating as well,’ he noticed, ‘I think you have a fever’ You sighed, and coughed again. ‘Just get me some water and I’ll be fine, I have a lot to do today.’ You said, and tried anóther time to sit up, but you flinched at the pain. ‘No, no. Nuh uh,’ Ranboo dissaproved, laying you softly back again. He got up to get some water, but the time he was away, you felt worse by the minute. Finally, you were able to stand up, but not for good reason. You ran to your bathroom, leaving the door open, and threw up in the toilet. It was overwhelming, feeling this bad, and you started to cry at the impact of it. Ranboo found you, a glass of water in his hand, which he put on the sink quickly. ‘Hey? Are you alright there? Oh, love,’ he saw you kneeled in front of the toilet, and came up quickly behind you. He petted your hair, and pulled it back for you. He heard you sniffling. ‘Shhh, It’s okay, It’s okay.’ He comfort you, and your breathing slowered as you relaxed once more. ‘Thank you,’ you softly called out, as you flushed the toilet. He gave you the glass of water, and with little sips, you hydrated yourself again. You were still very weak, so he carried you to your bed, and layed you under your blankets again. You´d shower later that day, or maybe the day after, but now it was time to relax a bit. To your surprise though, Ranboo came back with a warm cup of coffee, some painkillers and another blanket. ‘Thank you so much, you’re so kind. I don’t need another blanket though.’ You whispered, and he set everything down on your nightstand. ‘No problem hm,’ he said, petting your head and ruffling your hair. ‘But that blanket is for me, I’m gonna keep you some company.' Your heart fluttered, and you looked at him in awe. He was honestly the sweetest, and a more comforting person wasn’t possible. He grabbed his laptop, he did have to do some work, but he stayed with you for the day.

You laughed as Ranboo pointed at the TV in front of your bed. The pain had cleared up a bit, you were still sick, but he took good care of you. He had put on a documentary on the Diplodocus, which Tubbo recommended to the both of you. You finally had the time to, and you were laughing your asses off. ‘OF COURSE TOBY WOULD WATCH THIS’ Ranboo yelled, wheezing as tears formed in his eyes from the laughing fit. ‘LOOK AT THEIR SILLY LONG NECKS’ you giggled, the dinosaur on the screen looking weird. You leaned your head against his arm, and he lifted it, putting it around you instead. You watched the silly show on the TV in a comfortable silence. His breathing and your tiredness were enough to make your eyelids feel heavy, and you quickly fell asleep. You were safe in his embrace, your best friend, your savior.

You had a pretty weird dream about sitting atop of the long necked dinosaur, the ‘Diplodocus’ as you rode through jungle’s with Ranboo beside you. It may have been the weirdest you ever had, obviously influenced by the documentary you watched before you fell asleep.

You woke in the morning, the long sleep making you feel better again. You told Ranboo about the dream at breakfast, and you laughed your asses off even harder about it.

a/n: MILOOOOO I HOPE U LIKED THIS MY DEAR, UR SLEEPING NOW, BUT IT'S OKAY :))) HOPE U LIKE THIS WHEN U WAKE UP. And you too, other ppl here, you are awesome and take ur rest. Everything is gonna be fine, I assure you, and if somethings up DM's are open my dears!! SORRY IF THIS IS SHORT IM AT SCHOOL RN- I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHHH<3!!

@kiss-me-more-whore @milofroglover

[ohbuckie]

FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT III

(first chapters are not a necessary read prior to this one)

college!bucky x fem!reader

summary: bucky fucks you in his desk chair during online class.

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving)

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

You lay on his bed while he’s in class—phone in hand, shirt of his over your shoulders, boxers hanging from your hips. It’s early, and you’re only half-awake because he has nowhere else to sit through his 8:00 AM philosophy class.

At his desk across the room, his top is bare and his legs are only covered by flannel pajama pants. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and he brings a mug of steaming coffee to his lips once every minute or two. His brow furrows as he concentrates on the work, and he presses his lips into a thin line while he answers a question in a Google doc. You stand, silently press a kiss to his temple, pad into the bathroom to clean your body of last night.

Water beats against the tile wall opposite the shower head while you undress, sticking your hand under the stream to feel the temperature until it’s warm enough to step in. You soak your hair, rub your eyes, let the water break off into tributaries that pool at your feet before disappearing into the plumbing. Your shoulders are heavy and a yawn heaves your chest upwards, reminding you of the poor sleep you had, thanks to Bucky’s inability to share a blanket.

You take your time scrubbing your scalp, listening to the soap slap the floor and watching it circle the drain while you rinse. Twenty minutes brings you freshness, and another two spent at the sink bring you minty breath. With a towel wrapped around your body, you walk out of the bathroom and step into Bucky’s room, closing the door behind yourself.

You feel his eyes on you while you dress, but he stays quiet. His professor drones on about existentialism, with his boring voice and a vaguely New England accent. When you’ve decided on your outfit for the day—another one of his shirts with only a pair of cotton panties, since it’s raining and you can’t go anywhere—you stand beside him, kissing his head.

“Hungry?” You ask quietly, so as not to speak over his class. He shakes his head. You ruffle his hair, turning to lay back down until he’s finished, but a hand on your wrist stops you. “Hm?”

He tilts his chin up and puckers his lips, inviting you down for a kiss. You grin and press your mouth to his carefully, cradling his head. The sweet gesture is soon anything but sweet, when he shoves his tongue through your parted lips and runs it along the back of your teeth.

You break the kiss hesitantly, smiling at him. His lips glisten with saliva, and he licks them clean for another taste of you. “Do your work.”

“I’m not missing much.”

“I will not be responsible when you fail your next test.”

“You won’t be.” He insists. You shake your head and kiss him again.

He puts his hand over yours and pushes it down his chest, stopping when you reach his lap. You take the hint and find his bulge, palming him through his boxers, swallowing the moans that you pull from the back of his throat. “Will you-”

You cut him off with a nod, sinking to your knees and ducking underneath the desk. You kiss along his waistband, your fingers sneaking underneath his pants, pulling the garment from his legs and letting it pool around his ankles.

He’s halfway hard already, and you aid the erection by kissing up the shaft. Your hand wraps around the base when your lips touch the head, softly stroking and feeling him grow under your touch.

Your teeth sink into his thigh to tease him, and he squirms uncomfortably. “Please, just-”

“Be patient.” You coo, giving him a few more careful jerks before letting your lips wrap around him finally. You push yourself halfway down, leaving yourself some room to continue with your hand’s ministrations. You look up at him with big, doe eyes, though he misses them because he’s busy squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw.

He places a hand on the crown of your head, and pushes down ever-so-gently. While you bob your head up and down, moans begin to rise from him. His mouth hangs open while he breathes deeply, entirely uninterested in his professor’s lesson.

Your mouth waters when you close your eyes and think about how he could fuck your mouth if he wanted to; grab your head—maybe by your hair—shove it every which way necessary to make himself cum down your throat. He doesn’t, though, and instead allows you to do what you already know will bring him there soon enough.

He shifts to get more comfortable, and you nearly choke when the tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat. “Sorry.” He breathes. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

You hum around him in acknowledgment, and watch him trap his lower lip between his teeth to avoid reacting to the pleasure that comes with the vibrations. You swallow around him, hollowing your cheeks out, sucking hard. “F-Fuck.” He whispers, eyes glued to you. “You’re so hot.”

You listen to his noises and slip a hand between your legs and down your panties, dragging two fingers through your folds and spreading your wetness up to your clit. You roll it beneath your fingertips, pressing down as hard as Bucky usually does when he does this, and you gasp when you let a finger in.

You pull your head back and run your tongue slowly up the underside of his cock, lips pulling into a smile when they’re finally given the freedom to. You taste the salty pre-cum, flutter your tongue against the sensitive head of his dick, and pull away entirely.

“Wh-”

“I need you.”

“In my chair?”

“Uh-huh.”

He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t protest when you crawl from beneath the desk, and instead braces his feet against the floor, opening his arms to welcome you onto his lap. You throw a leg over him, sitting in front of his dick, thanks to the slight slouch in his posture.

He holds your face, tilting his head back so that he can reach your lips. You can tell he had a cigarette already this morning—probably on the fire escape, before the booming voice of his professor woke you up—and it makes you crave one, too, but not more than you crave him. Not even close.

He retracts a hand from your cheek and wraps it around himself, giving slow strokes to his thick cock. “Ready for it?” He asks, and you nod.

You pull your panties to the side and let him find you. He runs the tip along your entrance, coating it with your slick until he’s slippery enough to push in.

You sink down onto him and you moan together breathily, into each other’s mouths. “Fuck.” You whisper. “So big, Bucky.”

“Feel good?”

“Uh-huh. Gonna start moving.”

“‘Kay. Be gentle.” He kisses you. “Don’t wanna fall.”

You lift your hips and whine when you lower them back down, thighs tensing and core tightening to prepare for the repetition of the action. You brace your hands on his shoulders and feel him lean into you to attach his lips to your throat, sucking and biting and chilling the skin when he exhales through his nose over the wet spots that he leaves. Your lips pull into a smile when he works at a spot by your jugular with his teeth, very intentionally making it dark and leaving it above where any of your collars will reach.

The way he stretches you is familiar but not boring, because you’ll never be tired of the slight sting that comes with it for the first few minutes, or the way that he fills you up so nicely. He holds your ass in his large hands, guiding the movements of your hips expertly, because he knows exactly the angle that you need to cum quickly.

His laptop still drones on, but neither of you can hear individual words over the breath exchanged between your mouths, or the squeaking of the swivel chair beneath you. With a metal hand against your spine and a flesh one on your waist, he guides your movements—a constant repetition of up and down, over and over and over again.

You can feel the tip of his cock in your stomach, reaching depths that nobody before him ever could. A moan escapes from his lips when you squeeze around him, and his teeth sink into your collarbone. You grasp at his short hair, tugging gently and feeling him hum against you at the harsh action.

“Fuck.” He mutters.

He looks so pretty when you tilt your head down. His pink lips are parted to raggedly exhale, and his hair is even worse than it was when he woke up, since you keep pulling on it. He’s got a good amount of stubble decorating his jaw, which you noticed at first last night when he shoved his face in your neck to sleep. You crash your lips against his, kissing slowly while you hold his chin. You hear another noise from him, and assume you’re correct in thinking that he’s closer than you are.

“Almost there?” You ask against his warm mouth.

He nods. “Touch yourself.”

You comply immediately, pulling a hand from his shoulder and licking your fingertips before you find your clit with them. Pressing firmly, you trace circles into yourself, immediately feeling the effects when your stomach tingles and tenses. His tongue is in your mouth now, and he is very much responsible for your movements; he pushes your thighs and pulls your hips, leaving only the rolling and the clenching to you.

Your hand works rigorously at your core, and now that you’re both quiet with concentration, you can hear every lewd noise that comes from you working yourself on and off of him. Your fingers are slippery, but they stay focused on their task, and succeed when your toes curl and you open your mouth to whine, breaking the heated kiss.

You continue to move, but he soon holds you down, pumping you full of himself with a string of curses, and a few mumbles of your name. While you would love to bathe in the afterglow, his first name is being called from behind you.

“James? James Barnes?”

Without pulling out of you, he uses his feet to roll the chair closer to his desk, and uses his right hand to unmute his microphone. “Uh, yeah, hi.”

“Did you hear my question, James?”

“Um, no, I didn’t, sorry.” He looks at you and grins, holding back a laugh. “I was a little distracted.”

[gingersnaaps]

ctrl + shift + n

you should always remember to close your tabs - especially your tabs of tumblr smut, and especially around miya atsumu.

wc: 1.6k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, noncon, fingering, panty gag, finger sucking, condescension, super meta, fem!reader with internal genitals, college!au

a/n: i feel like this has been done before but i’ve had this concept on my mind for a while

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

Miya Atsumu. Star volleyball player at your college. Undeniably talented. Riddled with scholarship offers and professional opportunities. Infuriatingly attractive.

Also: a terrible group project member.

“Just lemme have a look,” he whines, grabbing at your laptop. “It’ll only take a few seconds. Promise.”

It’s a heroic task, ignoring him. It almost takes as much brainpower as doing his portion of the project for him.

Your eye begins to twitch as his perfectly-filed fingernails intrude at the edge of your screen, obscuring part of the slide you’d been working on. Technically, he should have been the one doing them, but as much of a genius as he may be at volleyball(this fact was grudgingly admitted after you’d watched him play once), he was utterly useless when it came to anatomy and physiology.

And you really, really, needed to end the semester without failing.

The cool metal of the laptop slips out of your grasp, and you roll your eyes so hard that you think they might get stuck in your head.

“Just wanted to see what you’d been workin’ on,” Atsumu says sheepishly. He’s sitting at the opposite end of your couch, legs kicked up and crossed on the coffee table, and the bright screen disappears from view as he begins clicking through the slideshow. “Not bad,” he muses. He presses a few more keys.

His face suddenly changes, a brow quirking as his eyes darken.

“What?” you snap. “Should’ve done it yourself earlier if there’s something you don’t like.”

He jumps slightly, startled by your harsh reaction. “No,” he says quickly. Too quickly. “It’s good. I like it.”

One more thing to note about Miya Atsumu, you thought to yourself: he was probably terrible at poker.

He returns the laptop to you, as promised, and hums idly as you resume working. The two of you sit in silence, but it’s not exactly comfortable - after the awkward exchange, there’s a layer of tension that hangs thick and heavy in the air. The air conditioning drones on in the background, like white noise meant to soothe, but it worms its way into your conscious mind and sits there, just noticeable enough to be irritating. Aside from that, it’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Of course, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Didn’t know you were into that kinda’ stuff.”

You freeze.

“Didn’t think that a girl like you would ever be lookin’ at something so messed up.”

Panic clenches at your stomach, and you reply carefully, voice measured and cold. “What are you talking about?”

“Should really be more careful about which tabs you leave open,” he chuckles.

You scan the cluttered row of tabs at the top; there’s nothing missing. Your eyes dart around the screen frantically -

There’s an incognito window open along your taskbar.

“Rough sex, violent sex, rape? Jesus christ, sweetheart.”

You click nervously, and on the screen, clear as day, is the fic you’d been reading earlier that morning. It’s one of the blogs you frequent - normally one of your favorite places to scroll through after a nasty day - but right now, it seems almost sinister, black font on a white background staring back accusingly as your skin prickles under his gaze. You swallow; a heavy, sinking feeling squeezes at your chest, closes up your throat, makes you feel like you’re dry drowning.

He grabs the laptop back. He’s sitting a lot closer now.

“I mean, just look at this shit. You really want this, huh?”

“No, I- I don’t.” Your voice sounds foreign, far away - you feel like you’re underwater, and your denial sounds guilty even to your own ears.

His lips graze your ear, the warmth of his body spreading to yours as he slides an arm around waist.

“If you wanted to be raped, angel,” he whispers, a terrifying grin stretched wide across his face. “All you had to do was ask.”

He laughs at his clever little joke, and pulls you onto his lap.

You feel numb, paralyzed, unable to fight back or move at all as his hands glide along your inner thighs, kneading the soft, puffy, flesh, spreading them apart until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls your hair to one side and starts kissing along your jaw, rough and sloppy, sharp teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw as you shiver.

He punctuates his words with a harsh squeeze to your thigh, thumb brushing dangerously close to your cunt. “I bet you were getting off t’ this, weren’t you?” he hisses. “Bet you were just dripping down your thighs, squirmin’ around ‘n moaning, fantasizing about some scary man who just takes what he wants.”

The dull, pained, look in your eyes reads like defeat to him, sending a thrill of pleasure through his veins. He’s right, isn’t he? He’s fuckn’ spot on about your little habits, your little fantasies, and he’s gonna make sure that all your dreams come true.

“Let’s do this exactly how it’s written out, how’s that sound? Follow along with your cute story ‘nd everything,” he muses, scrolling down the page. “Starts out with her - you - getting fingerfucked.”

It’s as if those words break some sort of dam inside you, a flurry of tears and sobs heaving out of your chest as his fingers trail up to your clothed clit. You squirm back and forth in his lap, ass rutting against his hardening cock. “Don’t want it,” you whimper. “Don’t make me. Please.”

“Playin’ along, angel? That’s cute.”

He peels your skirt off of you, thumbs hooking around the waistband of your panties as he pulls them off and stuffs them in your mouth. You can taste yourself on the damp fabric that clings to the roof of your mouth, spit soaking through as your whines and protests become muffled.

Fingers spread your pussy apart, sliding and squelching embarrassingly in the slick, your skin cold and exposed in the open air. As he rests his thumb lightly on your clit, he quirks his lips at the way your heartbeat thrums in your cunt, your pussy twitching as you clench around nothing.

Best part is that you like this, that you're turned on by this, he thinks. The fat, silvery, tears streaming down your face mean absolutely nothing when you’re so obviously into it.

He thrusts a long, thick, finger in, all the way to the last knuckle, the calloused pad of his fingertip brushing up against your spongy walls as your pussy contracts and squeezes him tight. “So eager,” he coos. “It’s jus’ like you always imagined, huh?”

You sniffle as the outline of his cock presses into your ass, rutting his hips against you and moaning from the delicious friction of the fabric. There’s nowhere for you to go, one large hand squeezing your waist and holding you down, the other fucking you backwards into his broad chest.

He crooks his finger; you sob, body drawn taught with pleasure, and he pushes another inside as you spasm. He’s good with his hands, unfairly good, his thumb nudging against your sweet clit in circles as his fingers scissor your walls and stretch you out so good. It’s as if you’re his little puppet, jerking around whenever he drags his fingers roughly against your g-spot, crying out through your stuffed mouth as blunt teeth sink into your neck and his tongue runs along the ridge of your ear.

“You’re makin’ a mess, pretty girl,” he murmurs, watching in delight as you flush with shame. “Dripping into my palm and all down your thighs, just like the girl in the story.”

You turn your head, trying to look away, but he grabs at the hinge of your jaw and forces you to meet his gaze. It’s taunting, cruel - he looks so pleased with himself as he fingers you until your thighs start trembling, walls clenching erratically as pleasure builds and builds.

His grip on your face turns tight, pressing bruises into your skin as you cream and gush around his thick digits. The orgasm crashes down on you in waves of pleasure, his fingers fucking you through it with constant probing and circling and stimulation.

His nimble fingers pluck the panties from your mouth, soaked with drool, and tosses them aside onto the floor. “Open up,” he says, prying at your mouth.

Your jaw goes slack, falling open, too tired to put up a fight as he shoves his fingers in. You’re not sure there’s much of a point. You suck sloppily, tongue laving around his digits, cleaning your cum off of him as he shoves his hand in deeper, making you gag and retch, and he moans loudly at the sight. You look so perfect - his precious little angel choking on his fingers, eyes watering and body trembling as you do everything he makes you.

You’re shivering when he withdraws his fingers with a pop.

He helps you put your clothes back on, wet panties sliding across your skin and leaving trails of shining slick. It sticks and clings to your pussy, makes you feel all filthy and used, and bile rises in your throat. Goosebumps ripple down your thigh at the sensation of cool air.

Atsumu nuzzles at your neck, fingers patting at your spent pussy, his tenderness almost mocking, and clicks back to the slideshow you’d been working on.

“Let’s save the cock for after you get us the A, hmm?”

[idy-ll-ique]

Just Peachy.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, overall very fluffy and cute

Requested: nope

Summary: in which Y/N gets hurt and Ransom is the perfect fiancé.

Author's Note: hiya peeps! ok im gonna say it,,, im a hoe for soft!ransom idc idc. enjoy!

---

"If anything happens while I'm at work, if you get hurt, don't hesitate to call me, alright? I'll be home in 15 minutes. Just call." Wise words by Ransom Drysdale, her fiancé.

Was she going to do that? Nope! Y/N grumbled from her position on the ground; she was walking down the stairs when she had tripped and fallen, ending up in a heap on the floor with one ankle definitely broken and a cut on her temple. Slowly, as the pain got too much to bear, she started crawling to the best of her abilities towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

As she neared the bathroom her hopes went up, until she saw the cupboard above the sink on top of which the first aid kit was kept. "Who fucking keeps it so high up?" she cursed under her breath as she grabbed the sink, slowly standing up, praying the sink wouldn't break under her as she applied her full body weight on the poor thing. She was successful.

Now putting her entire weight on her good foot, she reached up and, severely underestimating the weight of the kit, yanked it up, causing the heavy box to come crashing down on her. "Damn it, fucking son of a—" she cursed loudly as the box knocked her off her already weak feet. She fell on her back with a grunt and the heavy box landed on her chest, forcing her to exhale a breath. "Fuck."

Y/N forgot to hear a painful crunch.

She started lifting her hands to push the kit away when a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, causing her to wince. "Oh, great, another broken limb? Just what I needed. Great. Fucking peachy," she muttered and shoved the box away with her right hand, moving to sit up. She tried to crawl out of the bathroom but this time, with only one hand to support her, the task was perilous.

Ransom tapped his fingers on his desk at work in the tune of his favorite song, frowning at the blank open document in front of him. He was working on his second book, but today, inspiration was nowhere to be found. No ideas were coming to his head on how to proceed with the next chapter. I wonder what Y/N is doing, he thought and smiled softly at the thought of his fiancée.

Ransom and Y/N met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. He was being his usual, bitter self in the gardens outside the lavish mansion (yes, a mansion) when Y/N had approached him first. "Hi there, I'm Y/N. I noticed you were being too quiet and you slipped out, and wondered if you wanted to talk to someone?"

He wanted to push her away for talking to him like that, especially since he left the house for a reason, but instead he just smiled at her. A genuine smile. "I'd like that a lot." And so, they talked. Ransom was proud to announce that he had first fallen for her nature, her personality and her demeanor instead of her looks, which was what made their relationship special.

At least for Ransom, given the type of man he used to be.

Y/N was extremely gorgeous in his eyes. That was simply an added bonus. By the end of the party, both of them had walked into the house again and Ransom had put on quite a show about asking her out to dinner, which she readily agreed to. She knew what kind of a man he was; spoiled, full of himself and had a big attitude problem but that one talk with him changed her perception of Ransom Drysdale.

He was truly nice to the people he cared about, one of them being her. They talked for a short while and he was nothing short of polite, sweet and funny at times. He flirted endlessly since that was part of his personality but she didn't mind, she liked it, even. Ever since that day, they were inseparable and now, 4 years later, engaged.

"Fuck shit, fuck shit, fuck shit…" Y/N chanted as she slowly crawled to the living room, the pain in her body increasing by the minute. Finally putting her pride aside, she grabbed her phone off the couch and called Ransom, falling to the floor with deep breaths. Ransom's eyes snapped away from his laptop and landed on his phone when it started ringing.

Grinning, he picked up the call when Y/N's smiling face came into view. The moment she spoke, though, his grin dropped. "Hugh…" Y/N choked out, eyes filling with tears when the pain finally caught up to her. "Y/N? Bubba, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, immediately leaping to his feet. He shut the laptop, grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, towards his car. Work be damned.

"It's— it's nothing. I'm sorry for calling, I know you're busy—" He nearly scoffed. "Babe, listen to me. You're more important. I'm coming home, I just left the office. Speak to me, bub, tell me," he insisted as he drove like a madman towards his house. "Just got hurt a little bit," Y/N mumbled and Ransom's heart broke. "Darling, I'll take care of it when I get home."

Thankfully, 15 minutes later, he reached home. Ransom hurriedly parked his car and threw open the front door, freezing when he saw his fiancée lying near the couch on the floor, the phone still in her hand as her eyes snapped away from the ceiling towards him. "Ransom," she stuttered and he walked towards her, kneeling next to her. His thumb swiped the blood on her temple.

God, did he want to punch her on her stupid, beautiful face for telling him she was just a little hurt. "Bub, what's this?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch, moving to take her hand but it fell limp… in a weird angle. His eyes widened. "Is your wrist broken?" he whispered and Y/N nodded, turning away from him. "And you had the fucking audacity to tell me it was nothing?!" he screamed.

She kept silent as he checked the rest of her body, finding out that her ankle was broken as well, the skin around it swollen black and blue. "You're a fucking dumbass, you know that?" he muttered as he called a doctor, sitting on the floor next to the couch. "I didn't want to disturb you." She was wheezing and he turned to her, only to see her clutching at her chest with a pained expression on her face.

"Baby?"

"Hurts." He sat up and ripped the t-shirt off her, eyes darkening when they landed on the bruise forming on her chest and between the valley of her breasts. "What the fuck happened when I was gone?" he hissed as he covered her up again. "I… I fell down the stairs first and broke my ankle," she began, fidgeting. "Well you should've called me then!" he insisted, exasperated.

"I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted in a small voice and Ransom's resolve broke. He teared up a bit and pressed his lips to hers, shaking his head. "You're not a burden, Y/N. I told you, if you're hurt at home, call me. I meant it. Even if it's a paper cut, call. Even if it's a skinned knee, call. I'm always here for you, and I always will be here." Y/N sniffled under him.

"Ransom…" He gently sat her up and sat next to her, only to pull her on his lap as he held her close. "Don't you dare think you're a burden ever again. I signed up for this. A burden is something you're not willing to carry. This? I'm willing to carry this to the end of the world," he whispered, squeezing her body as tightly as he could without crushing her. "I love you, Ran."

I love you, too.

"I know, sweetcheeks." And he grinned when her head shot up and she promptly slapped him on the cheek. "You're so full of yourself, Drysdale," she huffed. "You still love me," he hummed as she snuggled into his arms. "Fortunately for you, unfortunately for me, yeah, yes I do," she sighed.

Soon, the doctor arrived, patched her up and said the worst thing she had ever heard in her life.

"Bedrest for 2 weeks till the ankle heals."

And seeing Ransom's shit-eating grin had caused her to glare so viciously at him that even he had cowered. "Babe, doctor's orders, can't help it." After the doctor left, they were now laying side by side on their bed, staring at each other. "I can't just sit here with nothing to do!" she whined, snuggling closer to him. He put an arm around her, sighing.

"Well, face the reality, kitten. You're staying here and that's an order."

"Funny you think you can boss me around, sweetheart."

"I know I can't but this time, I will. I'll strap you down to the bed, mark my words," Ransom said with a roll of his eyes. "Kinky," Y/N snickered and Ransom kissed her nose with a smirk. "You are not getting up, Mrs Drysdale," he whispered and she pouted, jutting her lower lip out as far as she could along with giving him puppy eyes. "Please, Ran?" Ransom laughed.

"No." She groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine! I'll just get up when you go to work," she spoke smugly and Ransom turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh no you don't." He leaped up from the bed, making her whine. "Where are you going?! I need cuddles, Ran, I'm hurt!" she insisted and he got back into bed, taking out his phone. "I'm making calls to work. I'm gonna work from home now."

"You don't have to do that!" she insisted vehemently but Ransom refused to hear it. "I have to! To make sure your cute, dumb little ass stays in bed like the doctor said," he huffed. After one phone call, he sighed in relief and relaxed against the bed. "Pays to be a Thrombey, ya know," he chuckled, ruffling Y/N's hair as she snuggled into his side.

She was a mess. Her left hand was in cast, and so was her right ankle. After the doctor left she had taken off her t-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, the wound on her chest a deep purple with flecks of red. There was also a bandaid on her temple for the small cut. "I figured." It was quiet for some time. "You never finished the story, babe. How did you get so hurt?"

"Well, first the stairs incident, I told you. After that, I was going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit but it was too heavy. I didn't know that so when I lifted it, it fell on me. I broke my wrist from hitting it on the floor too hard and the first aid kit fell on my chest," she huffed, "The pain was too much so I called you." Ransom frowned. "You should've called earlier."

"I know. Sorry."

"It's okay, baby, I'm here now," Ransom smiled, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. "I'm getting tired," she yawned as the adrenaline started wearing off. "Sleep." Ransom adjusted himself so he was now half-lying on the bed, back resting against the headrest as he gathered Y/N in his arms. She fell asleep a few minutes later.

---

"Ran…"

Y/N touched his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets instead of his warm body. She blinked the sleep away and sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn. Running a hand through her messy hair, she stood up and limped towards the stairs. 2 weeks had passed and as the doctor said, her bedrest was over.

Her ankle had healed but not fully, while the wrist was still in a cast. The wound on her chest was also feeling loads better. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen area only to see Ransom cooking breakfast. "Ran," she whined and he turned around. "Y/N! Get your ass in bed, why are you here?"

"It got lonely." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back. "Alright, fine." He spun around and grabbed her waist, lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. "Sit here." Y/N smiled lazily as she placed her head on his shoulder, watching him cook. He was making eggs. Omelettes.

"How did you sleep?" he questioned when the silence stretched on. "I slept well. The ankle doesn't hurt as much, nor the wound on my chest. But the wrist…" She sighed and Ransom looked at her with a sad smile, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "It'll get better, I promise. I'm not going to stop taking care of you."

"I'd like that very much," she replied shyly and he grinned. It was true, Ransom had truly taken care of her well. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed everyday for 2 weeks, he worked in their room and they had cuddled more in the two weeks than they had in their entire relationship. Y/N was super happy with their arrangement.

Of course, sometimes Ransom would be too busy, leaving her alone in the room while he worked downstairs or had a meeting with someone. But then he'd make it up to her by offering more snuggles and kisses. "My best girl," he murmured, placing the omelette he was making on a plate. He then carried the plate to the dining room, leaving her on the kitchen counter.

He returned just as fast, gathering her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple as he carried her to the dining table as well. "You're strong," she teased and he huffed. "I better be, or all that working out will be for nothing." She laughed and he placed her down on a chair. "Eat well, I'll be back." With another kiss dropped to her head, he went back to the kitchen area.

Y/N wondered how she became so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Yeah, sure, Ransom wasn't a very nice person in general but to her, he was the best. The man who once called his aunt unsavory things punched someone in the face when they had the audacity to call her the same things. "You better watch your fucking mouth or I'm gonna break all your teeth."

It hadn't affected her much anyway but seeing Ransom's reaction had sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. He was ready to do anything for her. And she had to admit, lately, he was being very soft. She had noticed the changes in him around a year ago; he'd become… domestic, almost. It was fun to see him like that.

His family, well, they were less than pleased when Ransom had first introduced her to them. They thought she wasn't good enough for him and had even tried to break them down. But that had only made them stronger. Ransom was in love with her and nothing his family said was going to change that. "Y/N?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Ransom. "Yeah?" He laughed and sat in front of her with his own plate of food. "You were lost in thoughts; the food's getting cold, honey." She cursed softly and laughed along, finally finishing her food.

How had she gotten so lucky?

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Show some love, likes and reblogs will be appreciated <3

[noyaism]

No Manners

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, public sex, hate sex, heavy degrading, edging, choking, overstim, teasing, size kink, power dynamics, sir!Tsukki, dacryphilia, humiliation, spanking, slapping, exhibitionism, sadism, masochism, dumbification, creampie, this shit is pure filth (let me know if I missed any warnings!)

Song Inspo: No Manners - Superm

If there was anything you prided yourself on, it was being the smartest person in any given room you walked into. School had always come so easily to you, no subject too hard, no concept you wouldn't understand. That was, until you got to college. University was a beast unto its own, and it showed you that maybe the genius you had always believed you possessed could indeed be threatened. 

While you found yourself at the top at almost every single class you took, your economics class was your Achilles heel. It irked you how the information just didn’t seem to mesh with you. It made you feel so inferior, and that wasn’t something you were used to. It also wasn’t something Tsukishima Kei was used to, however, thanks to you he was feeling a new sense of inferiority that was completely foreign to him. He, like you, was used to being at the top of his class, nobody coming close to him academically. Then, he got to university, and unfortunately for him you two shared a major, and took the exact same classes. It was odd enough in the first semester, and when it ended he was so glad to finally get away from you, and to regain his status.

Then the second semester came and once again, you both signed up for the exact same classes. This time was different, though, because finally, Tsukishima held something over you; you couldn’t understand economics to save your life, and it came to Tsukishima as easily as everything else did. 

Understandably, the two of you had developed a bit of a rivalry. It would come around every so often that Tsukki did better than you on a test, scored higher in a lab, and it drove you insane how he would rub it in, so when you did better than him, you did the same. The two of you were starting to hate each other’s guts. However, you were on the verge of failing your economics class, and there wasn’t going to be anyone better to help you study than Tsukishima. When you asked him to help you study he straight up laughed in your face, entertained by the fact you were actually coming to him for help. It was such a stroke to his ego, he couldn’t possibly say no. 

You two scheduled a study session for the following Friday evening. You met in one of the study rooms up on the third floor around five, intending to stay for a couple hours. Tsukishima had arrived a little early, as you walked in you saw him with his notebook and laptop out on the table, writing down some notes. You took a seat next to him, getting yourself ready to begin. As he attempted to explain all these concepts to you; rambling on about monopolies and price ceilings and deficits, none of it was clicking. You asked him to explain things time and time again, and he was getting visibly irritated the more you seemed to not be getting things.

“You agreed to help me study, Tsukishima. You can't go on and complain now that I don’t get it, you knew I didn't.”

“Yeah, I got that part, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this utterly dense.” 

You folded your arms across your chest, letting out a small huff under your breath.

“You're such a dick.” You muttered, not thinking much of the remark. It was an unequivocal fact that anyone who ever came in contact with him had to know, which you yourself already knew quite well, but you hadn't expected him to be this bad personally. You thought since you were undoubtedly better at him in any other subject you would at least be spared of his ill mannered remarks, but it seemed to be the opposite; he'd get on you because you were so much better at him in everything else. It was the one thing he held over you, and he was going to make the absolute most of it. 

“What did you call me?” He asked, snapping his head in your direction. 

“I called you a dick, because you are. I get it, okay? I don’t understand the material, it’s above my intelligence level, I’m the dumbest bitch in the world. Cool, fine, awesome. If tutoring me is that much of a pain I’ll just go, alright? Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Utterly fed up, you tossed all of your things into your backpack and got up from your seat, starting to storm away. Tsukishima watched you as you went for the door, only momentarily, before getting up and following behind you. You barely got the door unlocked and open before a forceful push of a hand from above shut it, and you turned and looked up at the man, confused as to what it was he was doing.

“We aren’t done studying.”

“Yes we are. I can’t take your shit anymore, I’m done.”

“No, we’re gonna stay here and work on this until you get it,” He lowered himself down to make more direct eye contact with you.

“Got me?” He finished, once the two of you were level. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head a bit. This situation was unbelievable, and he was totally impossible. You weren’t sure how much clearer you could possibly get, but you had no problem reiterating yourself.

“No, I don’t. Makes sense that I don’t, right? ‘Cuz I’m ‘utterly dense’, as you said.”

“And incredibly mouthy, apparently.”

“Only when dealing with assholes like you.” Tsukishima let out a chuckle of his own after that line, straightening himself up and looking down on you once again. You hated when he did that, but it wasn’t like he had much choice, he towered over your much smaller frame. It personified your current situation almost too well. 

“You know, someone should put little girls like you in their place.” He fairly quickly retorted.

“And someone should knock tall elitists like you down a peg.” You scoffed. 

“I’d love to see you try.” Tsukishima took a couple steps back from you after speaking, as if to quite literally challenge you to do something. You weren’t a violent person to say the least, but at that moment you would’ve paid good money to punch the man before you in the face, and it seemed you were going to get the opportunity for free. How could you possibly pass that up?

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, lurching forward at Tsukishima before it even hit the floor. To your utter surprise he caught you before you got too close, his hand wrapped around your neck. It was nowhere near a tight grip, but it left you breathless, and forced you to look up at the blonde. There was this smirk on his face, like you had done exactly what he wanted you to, like he now had you in the palm of his hand. The look in his eye was so devilish, nobody had ever looked at you like that. You almost didn’t know what to make of it, almost.

“Now now, dumb little whores like you don’t get to touch me.” The pure filth that fell from his lips confirmed exactly what you rationalized from his gaze. It was all you needed.

“Fuck me, now.”

Tsukishima needed no further instruction, moving his hand off your throat and down to your thigh, pulling your leg up and prompting you to wrap yourself around him. He caught you midway through your small jump, and in an instant your lips crashed together. You couldn’t shake just how angry he made you, and he couldn’t shake how sexy you looked when you were mad. That little body of yours held so much aggression in it, and since he was more than willing to let out the beast in you, Tsukki was just as willing to tame it.

In fact, he would take great pleasure in doing so.

Tsukki walked back over to the table you two were sat at, placing you down onto the cold, manicured wood. The exchange of your lips was filled to the brim in the most carnal, lustful intent. The two of you fought for dominance with it, neither of you having even the slightest intention of backing down. Tsukishima was already more than frustrated with you, and your attempts to gain control of the situation weren't helping. 

With a swift move he pulled away from the kiss and brought a hand around your neck once again, this time giving it a fairly decent grip. His face looked so calm, like this was nothing he hadn't done before, but his actions told a completely different story. How he managed to keep his expression so composed while taking full control of you made a shiver run down your spine, and the heat between your thighs grow exponentially. 

“Listen; I’m the one in charge here, y/n. What makes you think a tiny, powerless slut like you could ever even attempt to control someone so much bigger, so much stronger than them, hm?” 

“I-I dunno…” You stuttered out, much to Tsukishima’s liking. 

“You don’t know, that's exactly what I thought. Well then, let me teach you where your place is.” While his left hand maintained its place around your throat, his right hand snaked up your thigh and under your skirt, his fingers ghosting over your clothed sex. The faint contact made you whine, you couldn't stand how badly you needed him to touch you. Your eyes pleaded for him to do something, and he basked in the glory of making you so weak so quickly. He then obliged, rubbing small, slow circles onto your clit.

“Your place is right here; being dominated by me. You will feel pleasure only when I allow you to. You will cum only when I allow you to. You will be obedient, and you’ll love every second of it. Am I understood?” 

You nodded your head with what free range of motion you had, your hips bucking in the direction of his fingers, trying to gain more pleasure in the only way you currently could. 

“Use your words, and address me only as sir.” He instructed, moving his fingers away from you. It was bad enough his moves were teasing at best, but denying you of any contact completely was infinitely worse.

“Yes, sir. I understand.” 

Tsukishima let go of your throat, using both hands to undress you, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which were horribly stained with your eagerness. It stroked his ego immensely, looking at the girl who plagued his mind, who made him feel so inferior so many times, naked in front of him, so ready to be ravaged by him. So exposed, so pathetic, but so undeniably sexy. 

He pulled up a chair, taking a seat in between your legs. His fingers danced over the skin of your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt so needy all you could do was whine, not a single beg or plead coming from you. He hooked a finger onto the side of your panties, pulling them over to get a good look at you. Your pussy glistened under the fluorescent lights, coated in wetness you had never experienced before. It was like a work of art for Tsukki, who took a minute to admire the piece before he pulled your underwear off of you entirely. 

He took his left thumb and ran it down the length of your sex, dipping between your folds before coming back up to your clit, finally starting to please you again. A moan slipped from between your lips, filling the quiet of the room. Tsukishima brought two fingers from his opposite hand up to your lips, and without needing instruction you allowed them entry. Your tongue swirled around his digits, a slight hum ringing from your throat as your oral fixation was satisfied. 

His fingers left your mouth with a small pop, and they were brought down to your core. They prodded at your entrance, teasing you by the anticipation of entry. You wanted it, wanted it so bad it was much more a need, and at that point you weren’t too proud to beg for it. Just as your lips parted Tsukishima pushed them into you, a whine coming from you instead. You fell back onto the table, your back arching off the wood as his fingers worked wonders unknown on you. With an upward curl he brushed up against your g-spot, your hips bucking upward in response. The pads of his fingers massaged the rough patch of flesh momentarily, making your legs shake as helpless little curses fell from your lips.

As he began pumping his fingers again he also sped up the rate at which his thumb circled your clit, and it became quite clear to Tsukki that your orgasm was approaching, and was doing so fast. You could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, it was almost unbearable. You heard his voice say something, but your head was spinning you could barely make it out.

“Answer me, slut. I’m not repeating myself.” Was all you could make out, but considering you didn’t know the question, it was an impossible feat. Just as your orgasm was about to arrive Tsukishima removed his fingers from you, his thumb ceased all movement, and you were left with a ruined orgasm and your hips bucking into the air.

“You’re not cumming until you can answer one of my questions correctly. That should be good enough incentive for a stupid, needy little bitch like you, right?” You propped yourself up on your arms, looking at Tsukishima in utter bewilderment. You couldn’t believe what he was saying, or that he was going to make you answer questions in order to cum, but you had to admit he wasn’t wrong. It was a pretty good incentive.

“Y-yes sir.” 

With a quick smirk Tsukki sank his head down between your thighs, his tongue dipping into your pussy, savoring your delectably sweet taste. His his hands held the backs of your thighs, giving himself unrestricted access to your sex. His tongue flicked over your clit every so often before lapping up your juices again, until he finally gave the bud uninterrupted attention. His lips latched around it, starting to suck as his fingers entered you once more. Your back arched sharply, and your hands moved to tangle into his hair, tugging on the blonde strands. Before you could even process what it was you had done, Tsukishima was hovering above you, slapping your cheek before taking a rough hold of your chin.

“I told you not to touch me, did I not?” You nodded your head frantically,

“You d-did, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you will be. Off the table.” 

You followed your instructions, and as soon as your feet hit the ground Tsukishima pulled you onto your knees, and held your chin in his hand once again, forcing you to look up at him.

“I don't think I need to tell you what to do here, do I?” You shook your head lightly, your eyes full of wonder as you looked at him. 

“No, sir.”

“Good, then show me that you're actually good at something.”

You shimmied in between Tsukishima’s legs, frantic hands fiddling with his belt as you tried to get his pants off as quickly as possible. You didn't know what was causing you to be so eager, but something in you urged you to act as quickly as possible. As you pulled his pants and boxers down his erection sprang free, the pure size of him catching you off guard. You were no inexperienced woman, this wasn't your first time seeing a penis, but you had yet to deal with anyone of his size. It was a bit intimidating, if you were to be completely honest. 

As you were told, you weren't allowed to actually touch him. You presumed if you used your hands at all it wasn't going to end well for you, but to that you could fairly easily oldige. You licked a long stripe from the base of his length up to his tip, your tongue pressing along a vein that ran that same course. You circled his tip before sucking on it, letting out a satisfied moan around him as his precum leaked out onto your tastebuds. 

You started to take him further into your mouth, each bob of your head adding another inch until you had all of him. Your eyes watered as you felt him in the back of your throat, and you gasped as you came up for air. Tsukishima looked down at you, smirking as he saw a tear run down your cheek.

“You should do more of that.”

“More of what?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion.

“Crying for me.” 

Tsukki took hold of your hair, forcing his cock into your mouth and once again making you take the entirety of him. He held you there, letting out a groan as you choked around him. He brought you up for air and marveled at the tears running down your face, and the desperate look in your eyes. It was art for him and him alone to scrutinize, and he was most certainly a fan of the piece. Before you could fully focus your attention he was in your mouth again, his hips pushing up off the chair as he fucked your face. You gagged around his length, the sounds remarkably gratifying for Tsukishima to hear. 

He brought you back up for air one final time, holding your head up so the two of you made eye contact. He chuckled at you, admiring your current state. Spit dribbled from the sides of your mouth, tears spilled out of your eyes, and you were perilously trying to catch your breath.

“Messy little girl. You're looking more and more like the stupid little slut I've always known you are. Cmon, say it for me, tell me you're a stupid little slut.” 

As if his words weren't degrading enough, this request was surely the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae. He had you exactly where he wanted you, powerless and obedient. Just a small little toy for him to play with how he pleased. He wasn't satisfied with your lack of obedience, and slapped your cheek once again, roughly grabbing your face after.

“I wasn't giving you an option. Say it.” He demanded.

“I-I’m a stupid little slut.” You complied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I can't fucking hear you.”

“I’m a stupid little slut!” You repeated, much louder this time. Tsukishima let out a satisfied chuckle, nodding his head. 

“That's right, and who's stupid little slut are you?” 

“Y-your stupid little slut, sir.”

“That’s right.”

Tsukishima pulled you up off the floor, laying you out on the table. He pulled his shirt off, your eyes combing over every little detail of him. You knew on top of being a student he played volleyball, so he had to be fairly muscular, but you weren't expecting what you got. He had a body even Odysseus would be jealous of, making you the ever loyal Penelope.

Tsukki lubed himself up with your wetness, as you were far from falling short of it. No man was ever this rough with you, ever this dominant. It turned you on more than you would like to admit, but there was no need to with Tsukishima. He could tell from the look in your eyes, the tone of your voice, the way your hips slightly bucked as you sucked him off. 

Without warning his tip began to prod at your entrance before starting to slip in. It was no easy feat, though. You were incredibly tight, and even then you hadn't taken anything even close to Tsukishima’s size. He took things slow, watching as every inch of him stretched you further. You whimpered at the sensation, it was intoxicating beyond what your words could even describe. A groan slipped between his lips as he bottomed out, light curses following it. The way you tightened around him made it so hard for him to control himself, but he knew you needed a moment, and he wasn't trying to hurt you.

Not at the moment, at least.

You nodded your head lightly as you felt adjusted, giving him free reign over your body once again. Tsukki grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head before he began to move. He slowly started to pull out, and with a sudden snap you were once again taking all of him, a soft scream coming from you. He did this a couple times, watching how your body jolted. Feeling how your thighs tensed up next to him. Each of these thrusts hit your cervix, sending you reeling each time. 

He picked up the pace, starting to pound into you at a relentless pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close and forcing him to go as deep in you as possible. Tsukishima brought one of his hands down to wrap around your neck, the other still holding your wrists in place. He gave the sides of your neck a squeeze, the lack of circulation rushing toward you just as he hit you with a particularly hard thrust. A light scream fell from your lips, the pleasure in that moment so crazily overwhelming. This routine continued; harder thrusts while he actively choked you, very slightly less hard ones as he gave you a moment to breathe correctly, all the while denying you of your high.

“You better not cum, slut.” He warned as he felt you once again starting to get just a bit too tight around him.

“W-wanna cum....so bad.” You weakly replied, tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. Once again, just as you were on the precipice of release, Tsukishima denied you again, pulling out and leaving you empty. Tears fell from your eyes as you uselessly whimpered and protested, all of it only earning you another slap to your cheek.

“Really thought I’d let you, huh? Dumb little bitch.” He said as he turned you over onto your stomach. He filled you up again, but before he moved any further he began raining spank after spank onto your ass. You could only assume it was punishment, but it felt far from it. The pain was nothing but masochistic pleasure for you, and sadistic pleasure for him. Each stung more than the last, and thus each felt even better than the last.

Your senses were so overloaded as he started to thrust into you again that your brain had turned to utter mush. Coherent thought was so far behind you it was like it was never something you could’ve done in the first place. The only thing you could process was pleasure, and to enhance it you lifted one of your legs back up onto the table, the other continuing to stay hanging over to keep yourself up. This new angle let Tsukishima hit sinfully deep in you once again, adding to the utter brainrot you were experiencing. Words no longer were an option for you, only whines and whimpers, a stray profanity at the very best.

Tsukishima grabbed a fistful of your hair, picking your head up off the table. He made you look in the direction of the door, bending down to speak into your ear.

“Look, you left the door unlocked. Someone could come in at any moment and watch you getting fucked like the little whore you are. But I’m sure you'd like it if someone saw us, wouldn't you?” 

You couldn't bring yourself to form any sort of coherent response, and Tsukki very well knew that. He chuckled at your attempt to reply, which was just a rhythmic whine as if you were trying to get some words out.  

“You're not very quiet, either. Stupid sluts like you like having everyone know how good they feel, don't they? I’m sure someone's come by to spy in, hearing how utterly pathetic you sound.” 

His words only made you whine and whimper more, your head in an absolute daze from the sheer amount of pleasure you felt. Tsukki let go of your hair and your head fell down, and you got a good look at yourself in the mirrored wood table. Your mouth was hanging open, your hair a tangled mess and drool slipping from the corner of your parted lips. He had fucked you so past dumb you didn't even know you could be this far gone, and all the while you still had no clue if you would be allowed to cum.

Your hips pushed back against his, meeting every one of his thrusts and forcing him deeper. Each time he re-entered his tip made quick contact with your cervix, the repeated feeling driving you absolutely crazy. Your eyes rolled back as you let yourself fall onto the wood once again. You took everything he gave you, all the while holding your orgasm back. Each time he felt you were a little too close he pulled out, you couldn't even count how many times you'd been denied release, you were sure the number was shameful. You could tell this was getting harder on Tsukishima as well, the twitching and pulsating of his cock inside you letting you know he was having trouble holding back as well. 

You saw no use in begging at this point, and you couldn't have mustered the words for it even if you wanted to. You simply whined and whimpered with every thrust, your body jolting forward each time. Tsukki held on tight to your hips, keeping you in place as he pounded mercilessly into you. In your daze all your senses had dulled, but you could hear just enough for Tsukishima's next four words to be heard, almost as clear as day. 

“Cum. Do it now.” 

In an instant you finally let yourself topple over the edge. Your voice was so hoarse you couldn't scream, rather you let out something between an incredibly loud moan and a whimper, your back arching and your legs shaking vigorously. Tears spilled from your eyes as your body was overrun by an orgasm unlike any other you had experienced. The feeling was only intensified by Tsukishima cumming inside you, depositing a sizable load inside of you. Your vision was blurry and a little white around the edges, and your chest heaved as you let out shallow breaths. Soreness set into your body as you took time to regain yourself, almost ten minutes passing before either of you even thought to move. 

Tsukki pulled out of you slowly, admiring how fucked out you looked, your small body sprawled out on the table. He figured moving would be hard for you, so he gently let your leg down and peeled you off the table, sitting down in the chair behind him and sitting you on his lap. Your head fell on his shoulder, your eyes still a little glazed over, but for the most part it seemed you had come to. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You nodded your head lightly, your breath finally leveling out. Your throat was pretty scratchy, and you knew your voice would be raspy, so you just didn't bother speaking yet.

“What have you learned today, then?” 

“A good couple things.” You croaked out, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. 

“Oh really? Enlighten me.”

“Well, I learned that economics is just something I'm never really going to understand. I also learned that you are a complete and utter asshole, even worse than I thought. Finally, I learned that you are a way more experienced man than I thought you were, and maybe I don't hate you as much as I was letting on.” 

Tsukishima laughed out lightly, giving you a bit of an approving nod.

“Good, I’m glad I at least taught you something. Maybe not what I originally intended, but learning is learning. I think with a couple more study sessions you’ll start to understand the econ material, though.” 

You didn't say this out loud, but the thought of getting to spend some more alone time with Tsukishima actually wasn't the most terrible thought in the world. It seemed clear enough to you that the resentment between you two was clearly something much, much different than that, and so you were open to the thought of exploring what it actually was. Maybe not in as much of an erotic way as you just had next time. Not that you would've minded if it escalated to that point. 

Although, you thought, if Tsukki was going to fuck you like that every time, brainrot from class material was going to be the least of your worries. 

The both of you made yourselves presentable again, packing up all your belongings and leaving the room clean before walking out, which you did fairly slowly due to how sore your legs were. You both walked through the library, which was overwhelmingly empty besides a few staff members working hard at hardly working. It was to be expected; it was a Friday night and you were the only two in the world who'd pick studying over any other activity. You stopped just outside the entrance, turning to your side and giving Tsukishima a wave.

“I guess I’ll catch you later then, Tsukishima.” 

“Oh, so no thank you for helping you study? I guess the one thing I didn't teach you was manners, huh y/n?” You chuckled at his comment, shaking your head a bit.

“Guess you didn’t. It’ll have to wait until next time.” You turned on your heel and started in the direction of the train. Before you could get far Tsukki grabbed your arm and pulled you back over to him, holding your chin so softly with his other hand, the action so outrageously condescending.

“Oh no, I’ll gladly teach you right now.”

[suituuup]

that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of

Has Beca mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Word count: 2005

Rating: T

Entry for Bechloe week, day one: “Because I'm in love with you, dumbass.”

Beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou and thanks to @green-eyed-weirdo for bouncing ideas with me <3

READ ON AO3

*

The muffled giggle greeting Beca when she steps through the door makes her groan. The deep voice that follows confirms that Chloe is indeed not alone, and Beca briefly considers turning around and… going for a walk or something.

But her feet are about to fall off, she feels gross from her overcrowded subway ride home where she’s pretty sure a dude sniffed her hair, and she is really fucking tired.

She’s just flopped down face first on the pull-out couch when the door to Chloe’s bedroom opens, and two sets of feet grow closer.

“You alright, Becs?”

Beca grunts something inaudible in acknowledgment before she rolls on her back. “M’fine.”

“Hey Beca,” Chicago greets her with a soft smile, and Beca somehow manages to leash in her sneer.

“Hey,” she mumbles, the best she can muster when it comes to Chloe’s boyfriend.

Has she mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Yep. It’s only been four years and a half; not a big deal.

She was this close to admitting her feelings to Chloe, still reeling with adrenaline after her solo performance, when Chloe ran to Army Boy instead. Beca doesn’t think she knew what a broken heart felt like until that very moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chicago asks, setting his hands on Chloe’s hips.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees and leans up to kiss his lips. Beca rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone from her back pocket as a distraction from the display of gag-worthy affection.

The door finally clicks shut behind Chicago, and Beca hears Chloe sigh. That kind of content sigh that has jealousy flare up within her because Chloe should be sighing like that because of her.

“I thought he was leaving tomorrow morning?” Beca asks as she scrolls through her Instagram, not really registering the photos zooming past her eyes.

“Not anymore,” Chloe says, biting on her bottom lip like she’s trying to prevent a smile from breaking through. “He’s um, going to be stationed in Brooklyn. His request just got granted.”

A huge lump forms in Beca’s throat as she registers the news and an uneasy feeling seized her stomach. “That’s--” she swallows with difficulty, swiping her tongue over her dry lips. “That’s great, Chlo.”

She soon exits Instagram, opening her safari to look for apartment listings.

*

Finding an apartment in New York City within her price range, as it turns out, is pretty fucking difficult.

You would think Beca was aware of that given the fact that there used to be one more person living in her current studio, with a simple curtain acting as bathroom walls.

(she definitely has PTSD from that night Amy had food poisoning from Taco Bell.)

When Amy moved out, Chloe took her room, because Beca is the night owl of the two, usually coming home late from work or cooking dinner after Chloe has gone to bed.

It’s pushing eleven by the time she makes it back that night, and she prays that Chloe is already in bed. The past couple of weeks following the news have been… weird, to say the least. Beca has been avoiding Chloe, coming up with excuses whenever Chloe asks her if she wants to hang out.

She makes herself a quick dinner (okay, makes might be a bit of an overstatement: she just pours some hot water over instant noodles. Don’t come at her.) and messes around on her laptop for a while, turning the lights off just after one am.

A moan reaching her ears just as she feels herself dozing off has her eyes fly open. A moan that very much belongs to Chloe, and Beca just wants to disappear off the face of the earth. Quiet laughter follows, and when the bed starts squeaking, leaving no doubt regarding what they’re doing in there, Beca ponders smothering herself with her own pillow.

She grabs her headphones instead, hastily placing them over her ears before she hears something that will most likely scar her forever. It somewhat cancels out the sounds, enough for Beca to fall asleep. She flees the apartment before either of them is awake, drowning her sorrows in a double espresso from the corner coffee shop.

Over the next few days, she excels in avoiding Chloe. She knows Chloe’s schedule well enough to come back when she’s either asleep or not there. Or at least she thought so.

“Hey.”

Beca freezes as she closes the door, looking over her shoulder to find Chloe popping her head out of the fridge.

Beca clears her throat, rubbing her nose with her knuckle as she stares down at the scuff of her shoes. “Hey,” she echoes, setting her keys down on the counter.

“Long time no see,” Chloe says as Beca sits on the edge of her bed to take her boots off.

“Yeah um, I’ve been busy,” Beca mumbles as she undoes her laces.

“Busy avoiding me?”

Beca’s spine snaps straighter at that, and she looks up to meet Chloe’s eyes. “No, just--” her shoulder lifts in a half shrug. “I figured you and Chicago might enjoy some private time together.”

Chloe hums like she doesn’t believe her. “You’d tell me if-- if something was bothering you, right? I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Beca swallows. “It’s not you, Chlo. I’m just--” she sighs, feeling her frustration rise as she scrapes her brain for a believable lie. “Work sucks and I feel like I’m getting nowhere, so I’ve been crankier than usual.”

Chloe nods, her lips curving in a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time at work,” she says. “We should go out tonight! It’s been forever.”

Beca’s rebuttal lies on the tip of her tongue, out of reflex. She swallows it back, because Chloe is giving her those puppy eyes she’s mastered so well, and Beca knows damn well she can’t resist. Besides, she could definitely use a drink. Or ten.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

That’s how they find themselves in an overly too loud, busy club a handful of hours later. Beca is definitely tipsy, and Chloe has just ordered shots, so she knows she’s likely to finish the night with her head in the toilet. But she hasn’t laughed like that in a while, and it feels amazing to be… Beca and Chloe again.

It’s ruined just after Beca downs her first shot, when Army Boy shows up.

“Hi!” Chloe exclaims, springing up from her stool to hug him.

Beca grits her teeth so hard that she’s half-concerned they might break, her eyes throwing daggers at Chicago’s head.

“Hey Beca,” he says, apparently oblivious as he slides on the vacant stool.

Beca simply tilts her chin towards him, along with a tight-lipped smile. As Chicago orders his drink with the waitress, Beca shrugs her jacket on. “I’m gonna go,” she announces over the music, not caring one bit that it’s obvious as to why.

She doesn’t wait for a reply, letting her legs carry her towards the exit as quickly as possible as tears burn her eyes. She bumps into someone in her haste and mumbles a disoriented sorry, sucking in a much needed breath as soon as she steps outside of the club.

The music gradually fades away as she starts down the sidewalk, tugging her jacket tighter around her frame when a chill rolls down her spine. She’s not even sure in which direction she’s going, set on hailing the first cab she finds.

“What the hell is your problem??”

Beca freezes at the familiar voice, swallowing around the forming lump in her throat before she turns around. She barely meets Chloe’s eyes. “I’m just tired, Chlo.”

“Bullshit,” Chloe spits out, a scoff flying past her lips as she shakes her head. Her typically warm eyes are bone-chilling icy. “You left the second he got here.”

Beca sighs heavily, her hands forming fists by her sides in an attempt to tame her growing irritation. “Yeah well, maybe I didn’t feel like being the third wheel. I thought it was just going to be you and I, tonight. But you two have been attached to the hip and all you can talk about is Chicago this, Chicago that.”

“Well I’m sorry if I enjoy his company,” Chloe fires back. “You know, the least you could do is be happy for me.”

“Oh great, the guilty card,” Beca says, eyes rolling skyward. She sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t be happy for you, Chlo.”

Chloe staggers back as though Beca’s words slapped her in the face. “What?”

“I said, I can’t be happy for you,” Beca repeats, her tone rising along with her frustration.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Chloe asks, a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion surfacing in her features. “Why can’t you be happy for me? That’s what best friends are supposed to do, you know. I mean, are you even still my best friend? Because you haven’t been acting like one those past--”

“Because I’m in love with you, dumbass!” Beca finally blurts, a lot louder than necessary. Her declaration catches the attention of a few bypassers, but Beca is too focused on Chloe to care.

She watches as realization dawns in Chloe’s eyes, and all she can hear is her heart beating madly in her ears. She swallows, glancing down at the crack in the sidewalk. “And I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” she mumbles, roughly wiping at her cheeks when she feels a few tears rolling down her skin. “I’ll be out of the apartment by tomorrow.”

Beca is thankful Chloe doesn’t follow her when she turns around and resumes her journey home. She ends up walking all the way, too embarrassed to break down in a cab like in those stupid rom-coms. She texts Amy when she makes it back to ask if she can crash at her fancy apartment, fishing out her suitcase as soon as her friend agrees. Tears keep leaking out, and Beca wipes them away with her sleeve before she starts shoving her clothes into the suitcase, trying to ignore the way her heart aches.

A key slides into the lock just as she’s done packing. Beca straightens and hastily wipes her cheeks dry, even though she knows her bloodshot eyes will betray her.

“You’re really leaving,” Chloe murmurs, her voice barely audible.

Beca sniffles as she heaves her suitcase off the bed and sets it down. “Yep.”

“Why?”

Beca bites back a humorless laugh. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not a masochist?” She deadpans. “Seeing you and Chicago together isn’t exactly fun.”

“We broke up.”

Beca’s breathing halts as she registers the words. Her jaw slacks. “What?”

Chloe clears her throat a little, taking a step closer. She’s fiddling with her keys, something she does when she gets shy, nervous or nervous, or excited. “Well, I broke up with him.”

“You did?” Beca croaks out.

Chloe nods, the corners of her lips upturning in a sheepish smile. “Because it’s always been you, dumbass.”

Beca’s lungs flood with oxygen, and her shoulders slump, releasing the tension at once. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Chloe echoes, raising an eyebrow as she takes another step.

Beca closes her eyes briefly, her head tilting as she frowns. “Sorry, I think my brain needs to be re-booted. Could you um, could you say that again?”

Chloe chuckles, finally closing the remaining distance between them. She cups Beca’s cheek and joins their lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Beca’s knees quake as a bunch of butterflies release in her belly, and she can’t quite believe this is really happening.

She licks her tingling lips when Chloe pulls away, feeling a bit dizzy. “Um, I’m not sure I quite got that one, either. Care for an encore?”

The first of many, many ones.

[picnokinesis]

Hello! I am extremely excited for today’s update of the campervan au, but also I am desperate for another snippet of the anterograde au. I will take literally anything you have I just haven’t been able to get my mind off it today 🙃

Oh my days HELLO there! I am so sorry, I was gonna reply to this earlier but entirely forgot and turned my laptop off...however, I remembered that I still had the "Graham tries to coerce Koschei into using a dustpan" passage in my notes app, so here's a bit from that! For context: this is about a month or so after the crash. The Doctor and Koschei were living out of Koschei's flat for a while, and then ended up living out of the TARDIS for reasons, and things weren't going great, so they've ended up back at the O'Brien's. Graham and Koschei just had a...long and difficult conversation in the back garden because Koschei is Not dealing with things well, and so he broke a glass on the patio. Post-conversation, Graham is gently but firmly getting Koschei to clear up his own mess hahahaha. Ryan and Graham's relationship, ofc, is about where it's at at the start of s11

"Here you are, then," Graham says, walking over in a way that he hopes comes over as entirely confident, but in a nonchalant kind of way, and passes the dustpan to him. Koschei, of course, just gives him an unimpressed look.

"Come on," Graham says, giving the dustpan an enticing wiggle, before raising his eyebrows. "I ain't going nowhere 'til it's done. I don't mind helping, but you gotta face the consequences of what you decide to break, alright?"

At that, to his surprise, Ryan huffs a laugh as he closes the fridge. "Are you getting the anger management talk too?" He moves over to the sink, dropping his cup into it with a clatter. "What did you do? I threw my bike off a hill."

To Graham's horror, Koschei looks at Ryan almost appraisingly.

"You'll both get it if you need it, which, frankly, you do," Graham says sternly. "If you will go smashing things up -"

"Yes, Graham," Ryan cuts in with an attitude Graham does not appreciate, but he knows when to pick his battles, and right now his battle is with Koschei and the dustpan. He shakes it again.

"Go on, take it," he says.

(Also, if you have any more questions about anterograde, or any of the other aus, feel free to ask!)

[comfortmarvelimagines]

You are Home, and Home is Safe

heyhey ! deciding to just get it over with and post this tonight (for those of you who don’t know what i’m talking about, a post explaining can be found here. side note, please be nice in my inbox, its been rough getting some of those comments). i am, however, going to continue to tag autistic!reader fics with #whenyoucantfindthequiet and #wycftq, so they’re easier to find. hope it’s what you’re after, nonnie, and i’m so so sorry it took so long !!

features : autistic!reader x mama!nat, lowkey asshole Tony Stark (it’s okay i didn’t make him really mean, just kinda well-meaning but misplaced/ mistimed) 

warnings : uhhh i guess meltdowns, some self-injurious behaviour

Words are hard. Always have been, always will be. 

You haven't always had a family. For years you were passed from foster home to foster home, with a consistent message: you were too much. Your needs were too high, your behaviour too confusing, your struggles too much to deal with. It got to a point where you began to question yourself, your diagnoses and trauma, wondering if it was all in your head or for attention like you were told over and over. 

That changed when you met Nat. 

It wasn’t immediate of course. There was the initial period of complete and total distrust, of another stranger whose life you were thrust into the middle of, floundering and drowning with no support. There was shutdown after shutdown. The trauma of being ignored and punished for meltdowns meant that you’d learned to internalise. You barely ate, and didn’t speak. But Nat met you where you were, unwaveringly. Was always calm, composed, voice level. Kept food out on the kitchen bench at all times, figuring out your safe foods and keeping them stocked. Realised you liked small enclosed spaces and stocked your bedroom with beanbags, pillows, stuffies and blankets, a permanent blanket fort taking up residence in the living space. Perhaps the most wonderful was her commitment to listening to you, with or without words. The superspy was quick to recognise your shutdown states from body language alone and responded quickly, with two option questions and the request to tap the hand of the answer you wanted. 

You almost wanted to feel embarrassed, humiliated, of the accommodations she made so immediately. But she always spoke to you conversationally and never in an infantilizing tone, like so many before her, and the trust you held for her grew. It didn’t always grow in a way that you felt was positive, though. As weeks passed you felt your shutdowns turn into meltdowns and silence into frustrated screams. You didn’t want to hurt her. You didn’t want to feel ungrateful or angry or like any of this was on purpose but somehow she knew. As she held you close after each one she reminded you that your body was unlearning trauma, that you were safe, that you were loved so fully and unconditionally and nothing, including meltdowns, would change that. The way she held you felt like home. 

But no one else was like Nat. Social workers were condescending, school was overwhelming, nowhere was safe. So you stuck to Nat. It wasn’t long after you were placed with her that she pulled you out of school, realising that they were doing more harm than good, and she was always there for homeschool. Not looking over your shoulder, but present. You could hear her humming through the walls, or swearing as she dropped a spoon into a pot of soup on the stove again, and it was comforting. It wasn’t the apartment that was home, per say, but having a parent made it feel like one. If she went to the grocery store or a walk in the park you came with, ear defenders on, clinging to her sleeve for safety. She told you that she loved you a million times a day, until one day you said it back. 

Words came easier after that. Simple things, like asking what’s for breakfast, became routine. It wasn’t just Nat softly illuminating the cramped space with hummed melodies and occasionally vulgar language but you as well, asking for help with homework or explaining a meme. It felt normal, comfortable, okay. The outside world was too much, but inside your home, the anxiety all but melted from your throat. 

You never wanted to leave safety. You wanted to feel it all the time. It was warm and sweet and heavy but in a calm way, like a weighted blanket sinking into your joints. It started as a one-time-thing, after a particularly rough meltdown, but you started sleeping in Nat’s bed. It just felt… right. The panic that set in when Nat left the room and you didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing or if she was ever going to come back was so all-consuming and nauseating that going to sleep alone, in another room, unable to hear her was torturous. What if she abandoned you, gone in the night, social worker beckoning you on to the next uncaring couple, crowded foster family or group home? This way, when you woke at 2am from a nightmare, the first thing you heard was her even breathing. Home. Safe. 

***

Tony Stark was something else. Nat eventually started to transition back to work, and, as being homeschooled permitted, brought you with her. Even in classified meetings where you weren’t allowed in you sat in corridors and made sure you could see her red braid through the frosted glass, glancing up from your laptop every few seconds to make sure she didn’t disappear while you wrote your English critique. The rest of Nat’s colleagues (it felt too weird to just casually refer to them as the Avengers and co) didn’t mention your presence, at least in front of you; it was as if they didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Not that you’d say anything back. Outside of the safety of home it was like the anxiety disconnected your brain from your throat, anything you wanted to say cut off before it reached your tongue. It was frustrating. The first few days ended in meltdowns when you reached the apartment and it felt weird and strange and almost like you were two different people but an all-round embarrassment of a child. It was weeks before things settled into a routine and a pattern of acknowledged non-acknowledgement. A pattern Stark ignored. 

You were sitting at the island bench in the communal kitchen, drinking chocolate milk and typing out an assignment, when you heard both Nat and Tony heading down the hall towards you. They’d just come out of a meeting, you sitting watch outside the whole time, and Nat had sent you to the kitchen to wait for her while she headed upstairs with Tony to drop off some paperwork to an intern. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, you didn’t like being away from Nat at all, but if she was clear in where she was going and how long she was going for (provided it was only a short period), you did okay. It was okay, until you heard the discussion from down the hall. 

“Damn, Nat, is that the longest you’ve been away from the kid?” 

“No.” 

“C’mon, Nat. I know the kid’s been through some shit, but this isn’t healthy. For either of you. What happens if you can’t get out of the mission next time? They’re gonna have to be away from you at some point. You can’t be in this line of work with a barnacle of a kid.” 

You’d heard enough. As the topic changed and they entered the kitchen, you didn’t look up from your laptop in greeting.  

*** 

Too much. Too clingy. Too anxious, too needy, too autistic, too much. You needed separation. Give Nat space. Of course she needed to work. The world needed her, and they didn’t need you tagging along. When you got home that night, you headed straight to your room. Buried yourself in the mountain of blankets and stuffies and waited until Nat came to check on you, facing the wall, feigning sleep. You doubt you fooled the former spy but nonetheless, she left you be, a whispered “I love you” hanging in the air as she creaked the door close behind her. 

It was seconds before you broke. It felt like choking. All of the fear that was slowly reduced to an ebbing tide through months of living in a caring environment crashed on you like the mother of all tsunamis, saltwater running down your cheeks and into your mouth as if smothering all the words you wished you could scream. It lasted for hours and hours and it was relentless, painful, as if your heart was being ripped out and an empty throbbing numbness was expanding in its place. You were too much. Too much. Too much. 

Nat stood outside your door at the time when she’d usually be gently waking you up, watching you unfurl and stretch yourself out of the cocoon of blankets you slept in every night. She knew something was wrong from lunch yesterday, and your isolation from her was concerning. She figured you needed space, but the sleep she knew was an act sat at the back of her mind and bugged her all night long. Even with that nagging suspicion that something was up, nothing prepared her for the way her heart sank when she came in and saw your body curled up, eyes red and barely open from exhaustion, pillow and face damp from tears. 

She was at your side in seconds. Your resolve to cut yourself off melted at the sight of her open arms, safe, warm, home. And immediately your body melted. Hands running through your hair, the promise that you were safe, loved, worthy of support, the request to “tell me next time, please, you don’t need to deal with this on your own.” 

For some reason, those were the words that broke out the first sounding sob in the 12 hours of silent crying. It was so loud and gut-wrenching and it almost didn’t feel like it came from you at all and it was such a weird feeling, and all of a sudden you were scratching at your arms to try and re-embody yourself and Nat was breathing calmly and deeply and gently rubbing your shoulders until you found yourself easing back into your physicality.  

“Did you hear what Stark said yesterday?” 

And just like that she figured it out, of course she did, because she’s a trained spy and that’s her job, to put the pieces together and slot the narrative into place. And god, were you grateful, because you couldn’t see yourself stringing sentences together to accuse none other than Iron Man himself of triggering waves of hurt just by stating what you’d convinced yourself was the truth. She was quick to reassure. You are loved, you are wanted, you are always welcome and will always be her child and what you need will always come first. The warm safety settled itself in your belly and you let the tiredness wash over you, drifting on a life raft of whispered Russian lullabies and Nat’s hand rubbing circles on your back. At peace.

Of course, you’d never tell Nat, but hearing her whisper-yell at Tony over the phone for being an insensitive dick was possibly one of the best moments of your life.

[sunshineandaisies]

Nightmares

Words: ~1.3k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: language, sexual suggestions, some fluff and angst

You were startled awake by a loud crack of thunder, wind howling through the alleyway outside, and heavy raindrops battering against the window. The forecast hadn’t mentioned a storm, yet here you were, awake and likely unable to fall back asleep because of the noise outside. The time on your phone read 3:23, and you knew that it would be hours yet before you needed to prepare for another long day of classes.

You rubbed your eyes and stretched your tired limbs before peeling your blanket away from your body and swinging your legs over the edge of your bed. You stumbled groggily to the kitchen for a glass of water, and after ensuring that the door to your parents’ bedroom was closed, you put a bag of popcorn into the microwave and leaned against the counter, scrolling through social media on your phone as you waited for the popcorn to be done.

A few minutes later, with a bowl of popcorn in hand, you were padding back to your room and closing the door softly behind you. You had planned to just lay in bed and watch a movie on your laptop to pass the time until you officially needed to be out of bed and starting your morning routine before school, but the flashing battery symbol at the bottom of your laptop’s screen put a temporary halt to those plans while you scrambled to find the charging cable.

It was nowhere to be found in your bedroom – not on your desk, not under you bed, not even hidden behind your backpack and the stack of textbooks that you hadn’t even touched the night before. You groaned loudly before retracing your steps from the last time you remembered having the cable, and after nearly ten minutes of searching various places around your apartment, you finally found it wedged between the cushions on the couch.

It would have taken mere seconds to plug the cable in and to resume your intended movie night – morning? – if it hadn’t been for the lightning outside lighting up a silhouette on your fire escape as the person opened your window and began to crawl through it.

You felt your heart pounding rapidly in your chest, a sense of panic bubbling to the surface and a scream of terror at the back of your throat, but that all quickly disappeared once you realized who it was.

“Fucking hell, Peter!” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low enough to not wake your parents. Your wide eyes took in his appearance – his hair and clothes soaked from the rain, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red, his cheeks drained of all color. “You scared the hell out of me! Hurry up and get in here. You’re gonna get sick.”

“Can’t sleep,” he answered your unspoken question of why he was even at your apartment rather than his own three blocks over before climbing the rest of the way through your window. “I just- I can’t-”

You nodded in understanding as he struggled to get the words out. “Nightmares again?” you asked, knowing that more often than not, since you and him and the rest of your friends were returned after the Blip, Peter had dreamt of space, of Tony Stark, of Thanos, of everything that had been lost in the aftermath.

His only response was to avert his eyes, as if he were ashamed of the truth of the matter. You bit your lip, your heart aching for him. Wordlessly, you dug through the drawers of your dresser, pulling out a large t-shirt that you had stolen from Peter months ago and old sweatpants that you were pretty sure belonged to your dad at one point in time. “Here. Go change while I get a movie ready for us.”

Peter sent you the barest of smiles and took the clothes from your hand. “Star Wars?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“Nope,” you responded. The corners of your lips curled up into a wide smile. “Harry Potter. You crashing my early morning movie is fine, but we’re at least gonna watch what I wanna watch.” You watched him closely as he nodded before disappearing into your bathroom to change, and by the time you had the movie queued up and ready to play, he reappeared and crawled into bed beside you.

Your heart was racing as you pressed yourself closer to him during the opening scene of the movie, your arms winding around his middle and your ear pressed against his chest. The sound of his heart beating sent a wave of calm washing over your entire body, and the feel of his hand resting on the exposed skin of your lower back made your body buzz pleasantly with warmth.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you finally asked after you felt him relax completely. “I understand if you don’t. I just don’t like when- I hate seeing-” You trailed off, tilting your head slightly to look up at him only to find him already staring down at you with chocolate eyes. You lifted a hand to cup his cheek tenderly, and he sighed at the touch. “I’m worried about you, Pete. You hardly sleep anymore.”

“I sleep when I’m with you,” he answered before turning his head slightly to press a light kiss to the palm of your hand. “I- I don’t have nightmares when I’m with you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t control the curl of your lips after hearing his words. “I keep your nightmares away?” He had never said anything of the sort before, so this was all new to you. It would explain why he’d made a habit of appearing at your window at the end of his patrol two or three times a week, why he’d made a habit of crawling into bed with you when you nodded sleepily and scooted to the side to give him enough room beneath the blanket beside you.

“Yeah,” he whispered the admission. “It’s like you help- you help remind me of the good, and the good overwhelms the bad for a little while.”

You rolled away from him slightly, resting your head on the pillow beside his. He rolled onto his side, your noses only inches apart. “I’m happy I can help, Peter.” Your hand found his beneath the blanket and you squeezed gently. “I’d let you sleep here every night, but I think May and my parents might not be as willing to let that happen.”

He scoffed. “It’s not like we- we don’t do- we haven’t done that.”

“Sex?” you questioned teasingly, laughing as he blushed brightly. You pressed a quick peck to his lips and added, “Not yet anyway.”

His eyes widened and the blush across his cheeks only spread further, creeping down his neck and up to his ears. “Y/N, we- did you- what?”

“You heard me, Spider-Boy.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, lingering longer with the promise of more before pulling away and smiling at him. “Someday. But for now, you look like you haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours.”

“Try forty-eight,” he muttered, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Get some sleep, Pete. I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

A couple hours later, as the credits of the movie played on your laptop, your mom found you curled beneath the covers with Peter, your head rested on his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist. She let it go that time, quietly closing the door as she left the room to ensure that your dad didn’t find you in bed with a boy, but you’d most certainly be getting a talk about the birds and the bees in the very near future.

[hotmesshapa]

Hold On • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: some angst, a whole lotta fluff

word count: 1.6k

warnings: some strong language, descriptions of an anxiety attack

a/n: I started writing this at like 2am one night when I was in my chan feels, then homeboy played Michael Bublé during his last vlive and I took that as my sign to finish it lol. I also highkey recommend the song mentioned in this it totally didn’t make me cry while I was editing this noooo not at all 🖤

You pace back and forth in front of your front door, chewing on your bottom lip, occasionally checking the time on your phone as you impatiently wait for the mail to come. You try to distract yourself by scrolling through instagram and literally every other app you have, but your brain is too focused on one thing: an acceptance letter.

It’s a sunny but chilly Friday of what normally would be a regular week. This week, however, is the week universities send out their acceptance letters, and the first four days were complete agony of not hearing anything back. You had applied to one of the most prestigious graduate schools in the country, one that’s been around for hundreds of years and for some reason didn’t think it needed to upgrade its acceptance announcements with the current century. Honestly, you didn’t know people still sent actual letters anymore, but there’s something a bit comforting in receiving a physical copy of something that could be so important and life-changing to you. You had worked your ass off the day you started your courses in college, ultimately graduating two years ago with high honors and glowing recommendations from a few of your professors. Since then, you managed to score two internships in the film industry, all while working a part-time job and somehow not going completely insane. You did everything you could for a spot in that university’s graduate program, but despite everyone telling you that your acceptance is a sure thing, you still were insanely nervous.

To be honest, you don’t need to go to graduate school. Your bachelor’s degree and internships qualify you for any job you wanted in the industry, let alone your work ethic and resume you’ve built over the past two years. But you love learning, and this is the change to to meet new people and gain new experiences that you could only get from a graduate program. And sure, you didn’t need to apply to such a distinguished school, but the perfectionist inside you wanted the best of the best, and nearly all of your professors and friends encouraged you to apply, so how could you not?

After a few minutes of constant pacing, you check your phone again and let out a shaky breath, your nerves nowhere near being calmed. You sit yourself down in from of the door’s little mail slot and just stare.

“Baby,” Chan chuckles, watching you from the couch as he works on his laptop. “The mail isn’t gonna get here any faster if you stare at the door.”

“I know, but who knows, maybe the mailman will be able to sense my intense gaze from wherever he is and speed over.”

You hear your boyfriend rise from the couch and walk to where you’re planted, sitting behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You worked hard for this, Y/N, they’d be crazy not to accept you. I’m sure you got in.”

You hum in appreciation and lean back against chest, smiling as he tenderly kisses your temple. Chan, being the actual angel that he is, was one of the main reasons you had managed not to completely lose your shit throughout the entire application process and waiting period. You two know each other like the back of your hand; anytime one of you (mostly you) would get stressed out over something, the other would always be there to help. But for Chan, it’s like he has a sixth sense for knowing when you’re going through it, because he’d be by your side within an instant. He was, and still is, your voice of reason, your comfort, your everything.

He takes your hands in his, gently rubbing circles against your palms. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the letter will arrive any moment now.”

The two of you stare at the door for a few minutes, before you can’t help but check the time on your phone again, and you release a worried sigh, beginning to impatiently tap on the floor. As if he could read your mind, Chan pulls you tighter against his body and snuggles his face into the curve of your neck. “Just relax Y/N.”

Once you manage to calm your nerves down again, he slowly gets up, eliciting a small whimper from you from the loss of his warmth, which only gets you a chuckle in response. “I’m gonna make some hot chocolate, want any?”

“Yes please, with a lot-“

“Of marshmallows, I know,” he laughs as he makes his way to the kitchen.

You smile, resting your chin on your hand, and turn your attention back to the mail slot. You wait as patiently as you possibly can for another five minutes, before you hear a crash from the kitchen. “You okay?” you call out, not taking your eyes off the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine… Just wondering, where do you keep your broom?”

“Christopher Bang, what did you-“

At that exact moment, the mail slot opens and you’re greeted with piles of letters and papers falling into your lap. With shaky hands, you sort through the mail, tossing a couple bills, a magazine, and some weird catalog from a brand you’ve never even heard of aside before finally digging up the letter you’ve been waiting for. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as you frantically try to rip it open without giving yourself a paper cut.

“Was that the mail? Did it come?” Chan calls out from the kitchen, but you’re too in your own head to put words together to form an answer. 

You finally manage to open up the envelope, your hands trembling as you pull out the letter and slowly unfold it. All the words just seem to blur together, except the ones that catch your attention:

not accepted

In a matter of seconds, you feel yourself spiral. Your breathing begins to become more shallow and quicken, while your mind begins to race a million miles per second, trying to make of what you just read. 

What are you gonna do now? 

All that work, for what, nothing? 

Did you do something wrong?

Is there something wrong with you?

Are you just not good enough? 

A tear falls on the paper you’re holding, smearing the ink stating your failure, but you didn’t even realize you were crying until then. You furiously wipe them away with the back of your hand, but no matter what you do, tears just keep falling, and you can feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate, you whole body trembling. You know this isn’t the end of the world, but then why did it feel like it is?

“Y/N? Did you hear-“

You turn to your boyfriend, and the look on your face must have said it all, because the next thing you know, Chan is engulfing you in a warm hug, stroking your hair as you start to sob into his chest. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay. Y/N, please listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll figure something out.” He kisses the top of your head and continues to let you cry as he hugs you close.

It seems like eternity, but you manage to calm yourself down a bit, clinging to Chan’s hoodie while listening to his steady heartbeat, and you finally bring yourself to look up at him. “I just… I just really thought I was gonna get in,” you say quietly, your eyes welling up again.

He gingerly wipes away the tears from your cheeks and offers you a sympathetic smile. “I know, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.” He pulls you back into a hug, rubbing your back to help ease the knots that had build up there from the stress. “Fuck them,” he mumbles against your hair. “It’s their loss for not choosing one of the smartest and hardest working people on this planet.”

You let out a weak laugh in response, grateful for his attempt to crack some jokes to ease the tension. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, closing you eyes to try to get rid of the stress that lingered in your head.

“I have an idea,” Chan suddenly says, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen in the room. He gently pulls away from you, and you watch in confusion as he makes his way across the living room, taking his phone out from his pocket and placing it on the coffee table. 

The next thing you know, Michael Bublé’s “Hold On” fills the room, and a small smile forms on your lips as Chan turns to you, offering his hand. You take it, and he pulls up from where you’re seated and close to his strong body, putting his hands on your waist as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck. Slowly, the two of you begin to sway to the music, and you feel any remaining sadness and tension drain from your body as you dance with your boyfriend, and your smile begins to grow.

“So hold on to me tight, hold on, I promise it will be alright,” Chan’s smooth voice sings along with the music, and he’s looking at you with so much adoration, you can feel your heart swell. “Cause it’s you and me together, and baby all we’ve got is time. So hold on to me, hold on to me tonight,” he continues to serenade you, and you can’t help but giggle, causing him to start giggling as well.

You rest your head on his shoulder, releasing a sigh in content as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you Chan.”

“I love you too.”

[thenightgwenstacyfell]

Okay now that I've slept I have a few thoughts about season 2:

I felt that Benji didn't get enough proper screen time/character development - almost everything we got from him was related to Victor and him reacting to Victor's life (which I get cos main character and all, but compared to other characters like idk Andrew - whom I love - it wasn't as good?)

also about Benji, I personally found it very weird that he, as a suppsoed 16 year old was in AA; I felt it sorta came out of nowhere? I mean I know he had a car crash cos he was drunk but I didn't realise he became an alcoholic (just to note that I haven't watched season 1 since it aired so I might've forgotten). Honestly it felt really out of place and took me out of the show, but then again, I remembered that he's a rich white kid so I guess it made sense? (sidenote: this kinda reminded me of Drew Barrymore's childhood lmao)

As said in a previous post, I hated all the unecessary drama that I *knew* was gonna lead to their breakup/whatever and I was so pissed that they are basically doing the season 1 finale with rahim and victor kissing and benji then seeing it -which thankfully they didn't do, at least to a some degree

Speaking of their drama, they did have a lot of fights and I really understood both of their stances on many things, however I feel that they should have talked more, been patient with each other and just listened!!

Didn't like the love triangle they were trying to do between Victor-Benji-Rahim and Felix-Lake-Pilar. I fucking hate that trope, like do anything else except for that cos it's sooo overexposed and boring and idiotic!!

Rahim I loved as a character, and I would have preffered if they just made ahim and Victor friends, nothing else... like I get teen drama/feelings and all that crap bit come fucking on... they had chemistry, they were cute together bit nothing more. And when Rahim said that he never kissed a guy I fucking knew they were gonna go down that route and during basically the last two episodes I was like hoe don't do it and screaming at my laptop!!

[cottoncandyjester]

Darling being paranoid and killing their yandere out of fear? Yup

This contains: paranoid darling, character death, Yuki suffering

“He’s gonna kill you..”

“Get him before he gets you.”

“He’s gonna kill you when you sleep!”

The voices have been getting worse everyday, you paranoia was growing more and more. Every little thing was making you more and more nervous, from him coming home late with muddy boots to him being so secretive and distant.

“H-hey Yuki, what are you up to?” You asked softly crawling into the bed and looking over his shoulder only for him to jump and slam his laptop down shoving it under the bed “nothing.” He hissed out and gave you a quick kiss before he laid down to sleep.

Later that night you grabbed the laptop and opened it only to see he was looking up remote places, places far away from any town or house. “He’s gonna kill me..a-and dump my body!” You hissed out in fear before the whispering voices became loud shouting.

“Kill him! Kill him! Get him before he gets you!”

Wasn’t long until you found yourself giving over his sleeping form a knife in your hand, your hands shook as you looked down at his sleeping face.

“H-he looks so fragile and innocent..is he really gonna kill me?” You were met with your inner paranoia confirming your fears. “Why is he looking up places in the middle of nowhere? Why is he so distant and cold? He’s gonna kill you..he’s a killer after all so kill him!” Your breathing got heavy to the point where Yuki stirred awake now reaching out for you, the utter motion caused you to strike plunging the knife into his shoulder before ripping it out making Yuki hiss in pain

Out of instinct he yanked you into the bed straddling you down blood dripping down his shoulder, green eyes glaring at you as he stared at the blade in your shaking hands “y/n, give me the knife..” he hissed out harshly and your fight or flight was going insane.

So you decided to fight.

You pushed Yuki off of you only to moved ontop of him raising the blade and plunging it down in his chest hearing a choked sob of pain escaped him as you did it again and again and again feeling him weakly try to fight against you now grargling his own blood “y-y/n..” he slurred out his shaky hands weakly grabbing your wrists to try and stop you.

“I won’t let you kill me and dump me in some ditch! I won’t! I won’t die!” You snapped out as you kept stabbing him only stopping when you snapped the blade leaving it stuck In his chest.

“M-marry..me..was..gonna..ask..” Yuki wheezed out tears rolling down his cheeks as he watched your expression shift to horror. “N-no, wait! No no no no no! I’m sorry I’m sorry! Y-Yuki!” You stammered out lifting his shirt shuddering at all the stab wounds and blood gushing out from his chest as he wheezed now softly cupping your cheek.

“Y-y/n..I..don’t wanna die” he whined out and you shuddered feeling your whole world come crashing down and you got up to grab your phone, call someone you had to call someone!

You frantically grabbed your phone calling the first person you saw in your contacts, after a few seconds you heard a soft groan on the other end “eh? Hello..? Y/n it’s like 4am”h prince groaned out with a grunt.

“It’s Yuki! There’s blood everywhere! I-I didn’t mean to I-I thought he was going to kill me, I was protecting myself I swear! Just protecting myself!” You stammered out like a crazy person.

“Y/n, what the fuck did you do!?” Prince hissed out in rage as you looked at your unmoving boyfriend on the bed “I-I killed him” you whispered out