#i have no time this week for anything bigger than this

[cherubcameron]

Igual Que Un Angel

Chapter Six

Synopsis: Sofia is pregnant, and the last thing she needs is for Rafe to find out. It’s her dirty secret, it’s not like he’s barging down her door to speak to her. He looks as if he’s done with her for good. Will outside forces, force Sofia to confront the situation at hand. Or will she be able to keep this secret up? Not like, her belly isn’t growing everyday or anything.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Two Weeks Later

“¿Entonces no salió bien?”(So it didn’t go well?) Lupita asks, Sofia puffed out a breath.

“No, fue terrible.” (No, it went terribly) Lupita tsks, Sofia sets her camera up on her pillow. She has a bowl of ice cream, she digs her spoon into it. Plopping some into her mouth. She meets her cousin eyes through the screen.

“Con tu mamá y tu papá? O con Rafe?” Lupita says, she begins to set her phone down too. It looks like to Sofia she’s doing her makeup.

“Los dos. ¿Estás maquillándote?” (The both of them. Are you doing your makeup?)

“Si, voy a salir.” (Yes, I’m going out.)

“Te ves linda.” Sofia smiles, admiring the way her cousin is applying her makeup. She has pink blush on her cheeks, her skin through the screen looks radiant.

“Gracias, prima.” Lupita scrunches up her face together as she smiles. Sofia letting out a little laugh. Eating more of her ice cream.

For a few minutes, silence overtakes them. But it isn’t awkward. Nor there is no need to break it. It’s a comfortable silence, she’d often had with her cousin.

“Tengo miedo, no conoces a Rafe, él puede enfadarse.” (Im scared, you don’t know Rafe. He can get angry.) Sofia finally says, her eyes going from her ice cream back to her cousin.

Lupita pursed her lips, she looked as if her mind was elsewhere. “He didn’t, hurt you right?” She asks hesitantly. Sofia quickly shakes her head.

“No, no, nothing like that.” Sofia pauses, “Well, not physically. It was some things he said. In the past. It’s a long story. Essentially he made it seem like we weren’t serious.” Sofia rubs her belly, noticing how slightly bigger her stomach has gotten since the last time she’d spoken to Lupe.

“Oh shit, so you broke up with him?” Lupita eyes are wide, Sofia regards her with a sheepish smile.

“He broke up with me.” Sofia says awkwardly, Lupita continues to do her brows, Sofia isn’t sure what she’s going to say. But she can gradually feel her cheeks grow warmer.

“I’m sorry Sofia.” Her cousin attentionis finally fully on her. “It can’t be easy, especially with the baby on the way.”

“That’s why I don’t know if I should tell him. What if it just makes him hate me even more?” Sofia scratches her head, her eyes staring at her cousins through the screen. Willing her to have a solution for her problem.

“You can’t exactly hide it forever. I know I’ve said that a thousand of times. But Sofia, you’re about to be four months pregnant. You need to make a decision quickly. And honestly Sof, you’re showing a lot more than you were.”

Sarah rubbed her belly, she was due very soon. Her body almost slumped onto the couch. Rafe stared at her, his nose crinkling.

“You look uncomfortable.”

“You would be too. If you had a baby in you who’s pressing onto your bladder.”

“Uh, right, that kind of reminds me.” Rafe gets up, leaving the room briefly. He re-enters with a pretty big box. Sarah raises an eyebrow in question and Rafe gives her a tight lip smile.

“It’s a pregnancy pillow.”

Sarah blinks in surprise, Rafe lays it down next to her. “Don’t—”

Sarah eyes begin to tear up, “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me.” Rafe rolls his eyes, Sarah wipes away at her eyes. “I mean it Rafe. Thank you, you didn’t have to give John B and I a place to stay. And you did.”

Rafe rubbed his brow, “Uh yeah, don’t mention it.” Sarah gets up slowly, her hand still on her round belly. She reaches out and pulls Rafe into a hug.

“Umph—” Rafe eyes widen, his hands spread out but not hugging her back yet. He stood there awkwardly, his body tensed. Until, he finally loosened up, hugging her back.

“Still not used to this, huh?” Sarah laughs, she pulls away. “You’re not always an asshole, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He pats her gently on the back, shaking his head.

“Weird thing to ask but; John B has work until six. And I have no one to come with me to my ultrasound at four.”

“And you need someone to go with you?” He says, rubbing his eyebrow once more.

“I mean Wheezie hates waiting rooms. Plus we still have that whole custody battle with Rose.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go. Just don’t expect me to enjoy myself. Okay.”

Sofia observed the fluorescent lights, tapping her leg as she waited her turn at the doctors.. Another one of the ultrasounds she had to do. She already had finished the check up, she’d arrived around 1, usually the doctor took long. So she’d been here for over an hour after the check up. She finally leveled her head back to the rest of the room. As a woman and a man, sat together, the man rubbing her belly as he smiled at her. They spoke amicably to themselves, almost in a world of their own. Sofia felt a pang in her chest, she looked away quickly. What she would give to not be so alone in this.

Her eyes move towards another couple, two women. One of them had their head on the others shoulder. One of them very pregnant.

“Sofia Jimenez!” One of the nurses, in pink scrubs calls out. She has a clipboard in her hands, a small gentle smile on her face. Sofia raises to her feet, heading towards the door the nurse was holding open with her leg.

“That’s me.” Sofia says softly, the nurse smiles at her, motioning for Sofia to follow her. Sofia does, they head down a wide hallway, filled with rooms. Some empty and still not in use. Others have the door shut closed. The nurse finally stops at a room at the end of the hall. Letting Sofia walk in first.

“The doctor will be right with you.”

Rafe held out his arm, helping Sarah out of his bmw. “You got it?”

“Yeah I got it.” Sarah says, holding his hand as she steps out of his car. She sighs, “Thanks.”

“No worries, come on. This starts at like… four, right?”

“Yeah, at four. But I like to get here early. They do check ups first and it can take hours before the actual doctor sees you.” Rafe helps Sarah as she walks alongside him. He nods as he listens, he looks out towards the clinic.

“You and John B have— everything you need right?” Rafe says it, almost hesitantly. He wasn’t the type to pry in Sarah’s life. Well, before it started involving him with the gold and the cross. Before that, he didn’t care much about involving himself.

“Yeah we’re good. I mean with the money we’ve have from the blue crown. And the fact that we have the Royal Merchant gold. We’re set, it’s just John B and I. I think we just realize we want a simple life.”

Rafe purses his lips, somehow, he’s surprised to realize that resonates with him more than he’d ever thought. All this chasing for gold, it was what his dad wanted. His whole life, he wanted to do what made him proud.

And now… he wasn’t sure if he wanted the same things his old man did.

Sofia sat on the examination bed, lying down slowly. The doctor Dr. Reynolds greets her warmly. Her heart quickens, today she finds out the gender of her baby. She’s not sure what to feel, it feels foreign. But nevertheless, she’s happy. Happy that she finally gets to see her little baby.

“Hey, it’s me. Your mom. I hope you’re doing okay in there. Please don’t give me a scare.” She says softly to her baby in her stomach. She rubs her belly gently.

Someone knocks on the door, Sofia attention is reverted away from her belly bump towards who’s at the door.

“Hi Sofia,” The doctor pauses to look at her clipboard, scanning the information on it, “Sofia Jimenez, right?”

“Yes, thats me.” Dr. Reynolds smiles warmly, shutting the door behind her.

“Good, good.” She heads over to the monitor. “Well, it’s good to see you. It looks like from your chart that you’re in good health. Which is amazing. We’re going to check the baby, hear their heartbeat. And finally, find out the gender of the baby.”

Sarah plops herself back down next to Rafe; as she comes back from the check up.

“I’m all healthy.”

“Really?” Rafe feigns shock, “Because the 17 bags of lays you make John B buy; says otherwise.” Sarah playfully slaps his arm. He lets out a chuckle.

Rafe scratches his head, looking around at the other patients in the waiting room. His eyes landing on a woman by herself. She looks anxious, constantly biting her lip. Her leg tapping rapidly against the linoleum floor. Rafe couldn’t help but feel bad for her. He couldn’t imagine going through something like this alone. How scary it must feel. He wonders where the father of the baby is. The girl looked so—

“Pass me my bag. I recently got into reading and—” Sarah pauses. “Nevermind, you wouldn’t care.”

Rafe passes Sarah her bag, “Come on, Sar. Just tell me.”

“Oh, uh I just bought myself a kindle. That’s all.” Sarah says, her cheeks red, her gaze averted from him. She began to fidget with her kindle, tapping against the screen.

“You don’t have to make it so—”

“Sarah Cameron!” Sarah turns in surprise but gets up nevertheless. Rafe helps her, getting up with her.

“You want me to come or—”

“Yeah, I don’t mind. You’ll get to see your nephew.” Rafe follows behind Sarah as the nurse leads her into the examination room. Their lead to the left wing of the office, his eyes move towards the right. His brows furrow but he continues walking. He continues to follow Sarah and the nurse, they speak amicably among themselves.

Rafe puffs out his lips, turning his head back. He has this gnawing feeling but he ignores it. He was never the kind of person to like being at the doctors. But..

“Right in here, the doctor will be with you shortly.”

The doctor places the cool gel onto Sofias stomach, she laughs at the way it feels on her belly. Even after a few of these sessions, she still can’t get over the cold feeling.

Dr. Reynolds smiles at her, moving the transducer across Sofias stomach. Then she heard it. Her babies heart beat. No matter how many times she’s heard it, it’s a sound that could never get old for her.

“Everything is looking good. No issues. We already checked the size of the baby. They seem pretty good from head to toe.” Dr.Reynolds smiles, continuing moving the transducer across Sofias belly. “The heart beat sounds normal. The level of amniotic fluid is normal as well. Not too much and not too little. Do you want to know the gender of the baby? Or would you rather wait until they’re born.”

Sofia nods, “I’ll like to know. Thank you.” Dr. Reynolds moves the transducer lower on her stomach. Pressing enough for the computer to pick up the baby.

“Hmm.” Dr. Reynolds looked deep in thought, Sofia couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat race. A part of her wanted to wait until she gave birth to know the gender of the baby. But the more anxious side of her; wanted to know immediately. She let out a deep breath, staring at the computer.

“So when the baby is a girl, we look for what we like to call the hamburger sign. The labia lips tend to look like a hamburger bun. For the boy, we would consider this to be the turtle sign. Since it peeks out. We also look for the sagittal sign. There’s a nub on the end of the spine. That’s also another way we can indicate if it’s a boy or if it’s a girl. We call it the caudal notch. When it’s a boy, it’s upwards. And when it’s a girl it’s downturned.” Sofia nods, taking all the information in.

“The hamburger sign is present here. And the caudal notch is downturned.”

Sofia can’t help the tears that prick her eyes. Her heart clenches, “It’s a baby girl?”

Dr. Reynolds regards Sofia with a warm smile. “Yes it’s a girl.”

Sarah smiles as Rafe sees his baby nephew in real time. His eyes are glassy. He can’t help but feel almost proud. No, he is proud. He never realized how big the baby was now. The doctor Dr.Thompson, moves the transducer with ease. Pressing down, as he does so.

“A very healthy baby boy. This is your second to last check up. How are you feeling, Ms. Cameron.”

Sarah turns her eyes towards Dr. Thompson, “I can’t wait to see him. I’ve been waiting so long now.”

Dr. Thompson nods, the baby’s heartbeat in the background.

“Very strong heart, by the way. Strongest I’ve heard.” Sarah turns to smile brightly at Rafe, he can’t help but return it. His eyes returning to the computer, his mind briefly wanders. He knows Sarah would be an amazing mother. Seen her caretaking ways—but he—he’s not sure if he’ll ever be a good father. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he was already too messed up.

“Everything seems to be good. I’ll be back with the paperwork so you can be discharged.”

Sofia signed the papers the nurse handed her, she clicked the pen closed. Handing it back, the nurse smiles. “I’ll see what appointments Dr. Reynolds has opened. Give me a second.” As the nurse clicks away at the computer, Sofias mind wanders. Her eyes scanning the room. Would it be so bad if Rafe knew he was going to be a father?

“Okay, I have Sunday in the afternoon. Around 3pm. Or Monday morning at 12. This is for next month. The beginning of November.” She looks up at Sofia expectantly.

“Uh, let me check.” Sofia takes out her phone, looking at her calendar. She knew she was going to go on maternity leave soon enough. She’d spoken to Phil, he’d cleared it for her. Sundays were usually the days she spend with her mom, sisters and grandma.

“Monday works.” Sofia smiles. The nurse smiles, putting that into the system. Then handing Sofia an appointment card.

“If you need anything, you find some kind of trouble. You can always come earlier than that. But for now, November 3rd is your day of appointment.”

“Thank you so much.” The nurse nods, smiling.

“Have a lovely day.”

“You too.” Sofia walks away, heading towards the elevator. Pressing the button.

Rafe helps Sarah up as they make their exit. They walk back down the wide hallway, Sarah’s hand over her belly.

“We’re naming the baby JJ.” She says it, softly. Rafe continues to walk alongside of her.

“I bet JJ would have really loved that.” Sarah looks at him, her eyes pricking with tears. Rafe and JJ had always hated each other. There was never a time Rafe would have thought, he wouldn’t have had animosity against him. But now, now that he’s gone. He can’t hate him anymore. He just understands.

“Thank you.” Sarah croaks. “I know—I know you hated him. But—you don’t know what that means to me. So thank you.” She grabs his hand, squeezing it. “And—thank you for trying. Trying to be better. I promise, Wheez and I can see a difference.”

The elevator chimes, Sofia steps in. Pressing the number 1 so she can head home. She looks down at her phone, she was so excited to take pictures later with the sonograms that the doctor had given her.

Sarah opens the door to the waiting room once more. The elevator doors closing shut as she steps out. She heads towards the nurse at the counter. “Booking your last appointment Ms. Cameron?” Rafe stands awkwardly to the side, his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, last one before I pop.” She lets out a chuckle as the nurse chuckles alongside her.

Sofia enters her car, she was still allowed to drive. She looks down once more at her belly.

“Hey baby girl. Mommy is so happy to know you’re a girl. No matter what though, boy or girl. I’ll still love you all the same.” She lets her car heat up a bit before peeling out of the parking lot.

The sliding doors of the doctors opens, Rafe and Sarah walk towards his car. He helps her back into the passenger seat.

“So, any more errands?” He asks, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. He realizes in the past, he would have been. If they lived in a world, where Ward Cameron was still alive. He wasn’t sure he would be doing this. Nor, he knows they’re would be a baby in Sarah’s stomach.

“No, we’re good. Unless you have any errands to run.”

“Nah.”

“Okay, let’s head home. I’m tired.” Sarah puts her seatbelt back on. Rafe heads towards the driver seat, plopping himself inside, putting his own seatbelt on.

“Home it is.”

[appleblueberry-pie]

currently going insane over the lack of Yandere!Armin x reader, please deliver 😭🙏

I Know You Like You Know Me

In which Armin Arlert is getting ready to confess to his friend that is also his muse and he secretly calls his lover. He was very patient and articulated very carefully how he decided to approach you with his obsession over you for so long, until one day you call him out on his behavior. He tries to cover his tracks, but you aren't one to fool.

Text Breaker by @cafekitsune

wc: 3,703 words. i needed this badly. thanks for the request.

Armin told himself to give it a few days before he confesses. And usually he would take the first chance possible to talk to you if he picked up on something that needed communicating for. But this was bigger than just a simple argument. Bigger than needing help with homework or finding out how you're going to pay off your tuition, because all of these things he knows how to control and handle. He always finds a way to make things right for you. But this...he can't control this. All these years of studying your mind, your actions and little habits, he doesn't know if you'll give a promising yes. He needs a yes from you. He needs you to need him. Just giving basic interest is enough to please him. Fuck, just giving him a chance is all he needs to show you he's everything you'd ever want and need.

For the millionth time that day, he fiddles with his fingers, staring at the ground in deep thought. "Armin...?" The sound of a familiar saccharine voice has him pulling his head up to the sight of you. The worry melts off his face and, instead, paint a natural smile. "Y/n....I didn't realize your class was over yet. I would've met you by the door." He stands to offer his seat to you. You accept and go to sit down, feeling him take your backpack from off your shoulders. "Oh, you don't have to." "No, no, it's fine." He puts it on for you and watches you watch him. He shoves his hands in his pocket to not embarrass himself and feels heat on his neck when you don't break eye contact. "Are you alright? I tried texting you a few minutes before my class ended and you didn't respond. You looked worried when I found you." He shakes his head. "No, I'm totally fine. I promise. Just thinking about if you ate anything yet," He lies. You look up in thought. "Oh, okay. Oh...yeah, I didn't eat anything today." Armin's smile drops and he pulls you to your feet to drag you in the direction of the cafeteria. "What? Why not? Didn't you eat the breakfast I packed for you?" He gives you a concerned look and you remember finding the randomly placed hot meal in your dorm room this morning. You meant to ask him about that. "Wait, that was you? How did you even get into my dorm-" "You need to eat at least three meals a day. This is why you have headaches, right?" He takes you through the cafeteria doors and you purse your lips at him dodging the question. His hand went from your arm to your hand, holding it like it was meant to be there.

He's been throwing you off these past few weeks. And you want to drop it because he is your friend and you've known him for so long. But you catch him staring at you. Hard. It's always when you're not looking and he thinks you're unaware of it, but his gaze is too strong to ignore even if you wanted to. You also know he overthinks everything you tell him because when you tell him about your classes(the only time you're NOT together), you watch him think over your words as if he's playing it in his head. Like he was there when it happened and was trying to see if your memory was correct. Not only that, certain problems have been reoccurring. And for some reason, these creepy things keep happening to you and it always seems too conveniently strategized, like it was specifically meant to happen to you, for you, like the person knew you. You don't even like thinking too hard about the details, knowing how you get when you're paranoid. And the only person you can tell about your issues is Armin. But what if.....

There's a plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes in front of you. Armin placed it there. He also has a plate, but his doesn't look as good as yours. Gravy sits on top of the mashed potatoes, so beautifully plated. You got a better slice of meatloaf than him. He stares at you, waiting for you to start eating. You pick up your fork and knife, beginning to eat. It's better than you thought and you realize you did need this. He starts eating when you do.

"I know you didn't eat earlier too." "It's not about me." You give him a stern look. He smiles at you. You sink back into your thoughts while you eat and Armin quickly catches onto your silence. He stares at your blank face. He wants to disrupt your peace, but you've already had a long day.

The rest of the day is spent the same way it was yesterday and the day before. Wake up, go to classes, text Armin between classes, meet at the end of your last class, eat, go back to either yours or his dorm to study, talk, go to bed, repeat. If he wasn't so adamant of sticking together all the time, you would probably have more friends and wouldn't be stuck on campus all of the time. As messed up as that sounds, it's true.

The clock on your wall goes twice as slow as you count down the seconds that this "mandatory" study session takes to end. You knew about this chapter already, having studied it over the weekend when you woke up earlier than you usually would. You watch Armin point at the sentence mentioning something important that you don't really care about anymore and you look up at him. He's already looking at you, waiting for you to show that you understood the words coming out of his mouth.

".....Yeah." He smiles and nods, moving onto the next page. You interrupt his focus, calling out to him, "Um...I think I'm ready to take a break now." He doesn't lift his head from the textbook, pointing a finger up, "..Okay, just in a few minutes, it's a little more in this section that I want to make sure you understand." Before you could control it, you heaved a sigh, shoulders slouching. You hated when he made you do things on his terms. It felt way too controlling and you were beginning to get sick of it. His head snaps up at the sound you make, silence filling the room. You don't look at him, focusing your eyes on the desk in front of you.

"We can take a ten minute break."

He closes the textbook and runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I guess I just got a little too deep into the material for a second." He awkwardly smiles, expecting you to respond. But you don't say anything in return. He hesitates, but eventually looks over at you, watching you scroll on your phone. He didn't like your silence. He usually can correctly predict you filling in the silence whenever you feel like you have to. But now, you aren't really responding to anything he's saying and he doesn't know what to do. "Did I do something wrong?"

You put your phone down and look over at him. "You've been pretty controlling lately." His heart drops at your words and he automatically sits up straighter. "W-well, I just....have been trying to make sure that you're on the right track recently. You know, with midterms coming up, responsibilities are-" "Okay, yeah. But you're not my parent or anything. We're both grown adults here." Your face is like stone, unmoving, stern and....intimidating. Armin clenches his jaw. Why are you looking at him like this? Talking to him like this? Is he not being a good lover friend?

More silence between the two of you fills the air. Armin's stomach begins to turn.

"....Sorry. I just want to look out for you. I didn't mean for it to come out any other way. I just...care. That's all." You purse your lips before returning to your phone. Armin averts his gaze and finds himself messing with his fingers. How long has he been doing that? He clenches his hands to attempt to hide his nervousness and stares down at the textbook on the table. This wasn't going to be a good look on him. How is he going to confess when you look at him like that? He's never gotten that from you before. Maybe it's something you two need to discuss later on. Yeah. He'll give this a few days to settle. And if it comes up again, he'll find a way to make it up to you. It just....can't happen now. Not when he's so close to getting you to be his.

The rest of the night passes with the usual routine. By the time you're done getting ready for bed, Armin finished dropping all of his things off at his dorm. He takes a deep breath, sitting on his bed. He needs to go to sleep. He lays down on his bed, on top of the covers, still fully clothed and an arm over his eyes. He's tired and completely drained from today. He needs to go to sleep. Images of you flash in his mind. You eating. Your enticing gaze. Your frown. Your pouting. Your smile. Your smell. He needs to go to sleep. He clenches his jaw, imagining holding you in a tight hug, your body molding perfectly into his, your warmth in his hands and the smell of you imprinting on his brain. Everyday, you remind him of why he's crazy over you and you don't even have to try too hard. He just wants you all to himself.

I need to go to sleep, he tells himself as he speeds towards your room again. He timed it perfectly last time. He knows your full night routine takes about forty minutes. And he surely spent every single one of those minutes thinking to himself how soft your lips taste and how your hands feel on him. His body feels numb, but fully functioning. Blood rushing through his veins, making him sweat at just the thought of you. He hates, absolutely despises, this side of himself. He feels like he lost control of his mind, letting his body tell the story every time he gets this way. He thought he stopped this habit over a month ago, but here he is, ready to see you again. He needs to see you. At least check that you're okay. That's just what he tells himself, but he knows he's only here because he wants a reason to stare at you.

There's a plain of grass behind the dorm building you live in. You're conveniently placed on the first floor, your window at the perfect height for Armin to peek in, and that's exactly where he is, peeking in past your blinds to your sleeping form. His breath fastens, but he tries to stay quiet in case he's too loud. He looks around to make sure no one is out here, but it's just grass and the moon shining down on him.

Fuck, you look so beautiful. That's the big shirt you always wear to sleep. He doesn't know if you have your sleep shorts on underneath the blanket, but that doesn't matter. No...it never took much. His hand sneaks down to the stiff bulge between his legs, eyes stuck on your form. This is wrong. He told himself it's wrong and he knows you'd absolutely hate him for this. But thinking about your eyes on him has him grabbing his hard-on through the pants.

Your hot breath on his neck, telling him he's all you can think about.

Promises of staying together until death tears you apart from each other.

He needs you to want him. He needs you to need him.

Sweat drips down his forehead and his eyebrows are knit together, eyes squeezed shut as he lets himself believe the dream. One hand on the cold wall, the other squeezing his throbbing cock. Fluid leaks from his tip, making the friction a little better than before. He imagines it's you touching him instead of his own hand and it makes his soft pants turn into soft whimpers. He wishes you saw him fucking his own hand just to let him into your room and hold you. He wishes you'd love him and let him love you the way you deserve. He wants nothing more than to just be with you and it aches that you can't see that he loves you.

He opens his eyes and peeks into your window again. Still asleep. But now you're facing his direction. There's those beautiful eyes. Those eyelashes, cheeks, lips and nose that he adores. Open your eyes please, he tells himself in his mind. He wants to see those eyes on him just once, knowing it'd ruin everything between the two of you. He wishes he was in your room again like last time. Being in the closet is so much more intimate than standing outside the window. He misses the smell of you and the sound of your snores. Fuck, he's close.

His knees can't hold up for longer and his thighs are wobbling. His hand tightly grips what it can of the wall and his eyes nearly roll when you shift again. His forehead rests against the wall as he spurts out onto the grass, whatever thought going on in his head melting away entirely. Little gasps leave his mouth as he drains himself, hand slowing down.

He sits there for a second to catch his breath. Silence and a cool breeze brings him back to Earth. He opens his eyes, dizzy. This should be the last time. But he doesn't seem to hold himself to the small promise when worst comes to worst. When he looks into your room again, you're not there anymore. He freezes, body rigid. Did you see him? Did he wake you up? Where did you go? He quickly pulls his pants back up and when he's about to leave, you still don't come back.

He takes his leave.

Today, you complain to him that you didn't really get rest last night. He can't get those words out of his mind. 'Yeah, I don't know, I just couldn't really stay asleep,' you said. It seems too convenient to him. He was paranoid the entire time you two ate. Every time he looks up at your face now, you seem to not really realize how important those words mean to him. The sun was beginning to go down by the time you two reach his dorm room to study. Time felt slow like he was anticipating something shitty to happen, but you didn't really seem to care about how he felt. He hopes it doesn't show on his face.

When you smile up at him, his face relaxes a little. You were talking to him more today. He feels bad because he hasn't really been speaking much. You ask him questions about your homework and he answers. You even cracked a joke, laughing at it yourself. It gets him to loosen up a little. You must've had a bad day yesterday. He hopes it doesn't get like that again.

He offers you a snack during the study break. You accept the granola bar and begins to snack on it. While you eat, he slips out of the room to go to the bathroom.

He walks down the hall, taking his time. His head is low as a few football players pass him, loud and disruptive. He watches them go into a dorm room, not really caring about how annoying they all are to everyone else on the floor. Armin opens the bathroom door, passing his reflection in the mirror. He isn't like them. Isn't as tall as them. Doesn't have their humor. Isn't muscular or anything. He's nerdy, talkative, and doesn't have anything going for him besides his obsession over you. He couldn't fix himself even if he wanted to. But he will do anything if it meant making your life as fulfilling as possible. You're his only hope. His air. His soon to be lover. He's gonna make it right. He has to.

When he comes back, you're back to your work, reading the textbook. He sits down next to you and skims to where he last was. It's silence for a little bit, then he feels your eyes on him. He slowly looks up, meeting your eyes. He gives you a small smile, expecting you to say something. But you just stare at him. His smile stops growing as he watches you stand up.

"Stand up."

He wants to say something, but goes against it, curiosity taking over his will to speak. He stands and looks over at you. You're staring through him. But it's not a stare he's used to. You look like you're looking to humiliate him or something. It makes his neck heat up.

"Is there something that you want to tell me?"

Armin has a million thoughts of all the pervy shit he did not too long ago and settles on shaking his head. "No...? Why? Is something wrong?" A scowl grows on your face at his answer. Does she know? The question flashes through his mind before he can stop it and his heart begins to race. Not now. You walk around to the other side of the desk to lean on his night stand by his bed. "Come over here."

He meets you by his night stand and runs one of his hands through his hair. "I-if something's wrong, please tell me. I don-" "Open this." You point at the top drawer. There's three. You just asked for the first one. His stomach drops at the realization. You looked through his shit. You know about your underwear in his drawer. You saw that he's a nasty fucking stalker that snuck into your room and used your clothes to get off. You hate him. You don't love him anymore.

Your eyebrow raised at his face. Armin is suddenly completely frozen and is staring at you with a disturbing expression you can't describe. You wave a hand in front of his face. It doesn't make him move or blink. You knew he was up to some shady shit. You step forward and that makes him move. "Armin, open it." He opens it. Regular school materials. Pencils. Tape. Sticky notes. A small, hand-sized notebook. You close the drawer.

"Open this one."

Everything he worked so hard for. Years and years of dealing with his own mental state, learning about how to handle himself before he approaches you. Patience got him this far only to ruin it for himself in the end. He doesn't feel so good. He feels sick. His head begins pounding. Armin shakes his head, his eyes glossy.

He sees the anger in your eyes. How long have you known? You go to open the drawer yourself, but his hand clutches yours with a strength you didn't know he had. The grip is too tight and it hurts. You turn your head. His eyes are wide open, veins poking out of his forehead and neck as he pants. "Don't." A surge of energy bursts through you as you snatch your hand away from him.

"I already fucking know what's in there, Armin. You think I'm stupid? All these months of you stalking me. Following me into my class, sitting in the back of a room like a fucking weirdo. Babying me all of the time. Treating me like your wife when I've never even seen you as anything more than a friend. You know, I tried." You begin to rant and Armin shakes his head as if that was going to stop the truth from pouring out of your lips.

"I really wanted this to work between us. But....you don't know how to be normal. I just wanted something normal, I wanted a normal college life, I wanted friends and to party on the weekends.....and do all of these fun things that would...make me feel like me. You just like having someone to control-"

"That's not true! I really do love you! I want you to be happy, just- just tell me whatever-" He gives you a desperate look, reaching his hands out to you even though you back away at every step he takes forward. "No, no, no. Not with you. I can't always be with you. Don't you understand that?" You looked like you were trying to keep piece of your patience and sanity together, and Armin wasn't any better.

"But I love you, Y/n." He closes the gap between you, a distance he dreamed of closing between the two of you. Your eyes widened, hopefully in realization and love, he thinks. His hands hold yours, you stare up at him while he looks down to you just like he always wished to. He ignores your shaking hands. "I've loved you for as long as i've known you. You- you make my heart beat. I think of you when I wake up and go to sleep. I make you meals in the morning, keeping you in mind. I want to wake up with you there and go to sleep with you in my arms. Everything I dream of at night can be with you because you complete me. You're all I need."

His face relaxed into a loving gaze. It looks so true, so real. You never watched a man's face go through emotions so quickly before. Never met someone so obsessed with someone he can't have. His heart skips a beat at every breath you take and you finally realize that the man you've allowed into your life is someone you were told about a million times. He's a stranger. A monster with delusions strong enough to kill reality. This isn't Armin Arlert. You don't know who this man is.

Silence.

It's okay, he thinks. It does take a second to process a love confession. His gaze goes down to your lips, waiting for a yes to come out.

[anniebeckcalla]

───make it right.

(bf! jaemin x reader) ◦ ₊ wc: 683 ◦ ₊ cw: fluff, slight angst, one use of swearing ◦ ₊ lowercase intended! ◦ ₊ navigation

you curled up in your bed, your head stinging, throat hoarse, and eyes rubbed raw from tears. with the strength of an invalid, you reached a hand out for the box of tissues that sat on your bedside table, only to be met with empty cardboard that sagged under your weight. with a little shriek, you slithered your arm back into your duvet fortress and allowed all hell to break loose as your sobs shook the bedframe.

what was making you feel so sorrowful?

rather…who?

no other than na jaemin, your ex. he was the one who had ended the relationship. “I'm not emotionally ready for a commitment yet,” he'd said, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger as he smiled sympathetically. “you deserve someone who you can love unconditionally.” “i only love you, jaemin,” you had sobbed, to no avail. for the past two weeks, you had made your bed and duvet your new home, refusing to look at your phone and eating nothing but strawberry soft scoop ice cream. your endless crying had forced you to use up all the tissues In your apartment- from the loo roll to the kleenex for visitors.

you didn't know if there was life without jaemin- he was like a part of your soul, the owner of your heart. not for the first time, you wondered what you could have done to make him back away. were you not pretty enough? were you boring? too sensitive? whatever. all you knew was that you were never recovering from this.

as you clutched your aching head, you heard a faint tap on the window. you ignored it, and continued to rock back and forth in vexation. the tap came again, and again. you stopped, uncovering your head, and looked towards the window. before your eyes, a pebble bounced off the glass. fury replaced your demeanour as you hopped out of bed and strode to the window, ready to scream at the cheeky youths who had chosen your house to be the target of a childish game. you opened the windows so hard that they almost flew off their hinges, and glared down, preparing to scream all the swear words you knew.

“you weren't answering the door!”

jaemin looked up, a smile spreading on his face as he raised one hand in a half wave. his other hand was holding a small bouquet of roses. when he saw you looking at them, he tried to conceal them behind his back. “go and do one,” you shouted, your eyes brimming with tears. “is this seriously the best you can do? after abandoning me, you turn up at my doorstep and try to break my windows?”

“y/n, i-” “-you'd have to use something a lot bigger than that, though, so that wasn't a good attempt. if you're here with those flowers to show me that you've already pulled another girl, then you can fuck right off!” a lady walking her dog on the opposite side of the pavement stopped, mouth agape. jaemin glanced behind him and saw her staring. “it's not a show,” he said, gesturing her off. once she'd left, he looked back up at you. “can i explain, please?” he said. you took a deep breath to stable yourself. “if you want to say anything, say it right now.”

jaemin pulled the flowers from behind his back. “i was wrong, y/n. i messed up so badly, and i hurt you. i thought that i wasn't ready for a relationship, but in reality, all i needed was to take some time alone.” he held up the roses. “can we start again, please?” your heart melted into a waxy puddle right then, but your rational self wanted to prove a point. “it's going to take a lot more than an poxy bunch of flowers to get me running back your way.” jaemin opened his arms wide. “then i’ll do whatever it takes to make things right again.” a smile spread across your face.

“alright. i'll be down to open the door in a minute.”

○○○

comments and reblogs greatly appreciated !! (´･ω･｀)

masterlist

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @pl4netx1a @jeonghansshitester @herjaemin @chenlezip

click here!

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 13

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

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Chapter 13

You hurried up the stairs of your complex, a dark cloud swirling overhead. The elevator stopped working that morning, meaning you had to scale seven flights to get to your apartment. Class wrapped for the day, but your philosophy professor wanted to be a bigger ass than usual and threw a pop quiz in your face. You were sure you failed, which was the last thing you needed this close to the end of the semester. You couldn’t even share a harried look with Steph because you stopped talking to her to focus on your studies. A decision you were now beginning to regret, but you tried to hold firm.

In conclusion, you were going through it, and you wanted nothing more than to sink into your couch and binge-watch Bridgerton for the umpteenth time.

As you reached the landing on your floor, you paused, noting the package that awaited you outside your door—a small, unassuming brown box.

Huh.

You didn’t order anything.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed legitimate with the appropriate shipping labels and all that jazz, but you didn’t survive this city without being at least a little wary of pleasant surprises.

It was heavier than you expected. Something you took mental note of as you tucked it under your arm and headed inside. While it could be an explosive or trap sent by a gang or super villain, you hoped they had bigger fish to fry than a college student on the cusp of a mental breakdown.

And at this point, a small part of you welcomed the sweet release of death if it meant you didn’t have to take your finals next week.

You settled cross-legged on your couch, turning the package over in your hands as you tried to guess what it contained. Its contents shifted slightly, and you still had all your limbs intact, so you took that as a good sign.

Sparing yourself the suspense, you ripped it open. A leather book tied with a cord sat on top, unmarked saved for the braided border etched on its cover. Next to it sat an ebony fountain pen with vials of ink. A small smile flitted across your face as you removed the journal, flipping through its pages to appreciate the rough texture of the pages. It was almost too nice to write in.

Beneath it, sat two more books. On Writing by Stephen King, and a collector’s edition of Les Misérables by Victor Hugo. You appreciated the first as a good resource for your upcoming submission, but your attention snagged on the latter. Its deep blue cover looked expensive with gold-pressed fleurs dis lis along its border. You flipped it open to the first page, noting that it was written in French. Somehow, you knew it would be.

A handwritten note sat at the bottom of the empty box.

You’re doing well. I chose you for a reason. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not for my sake. Take a break from the letters and enjoy the holidays. You’ve earned it.

—Your Dear Daddy Long Legs

Your skin pebbled with the twist in your gut, simultaneously too cold and too hot. You laughed, because you couldn't decide what else to do in that moment. Gifts were one thing, expected even from a man who had plenty of money to spare, but a few words of encouragement and the joining of an inside joke... that was priceless and exactly what you needed right now.

Writing letters had quickly lost its appeal once you started double and triple guessing every word that went onto the page. Life had gotten in the way, so you distanced yourself from your new friends to focus on your studies. You assumed you made the right choice, but it only succeeded in making you feel more isolated. With the end of your first semester looming, you wondered if you’d made a terrible mistake by taking his money.

Bruce Wayne clearly didn’t care about you or your struggles, especially after never receiving a response to your frantic letter apologizing for your misstep.

But maybe you’d been a little too quick to judge.

Your laughter died on a wheeze as tears gathered in your eyes, hot and searing, relieved you hadn’t fucked this up. It wasn’t often the actions of billionaires brought you to tears, and happy tears at that. Hah. You wanted to laugh and sob and scream. Perhaps, an ugly combination of all three. A weight you’d carried over the last few weeks lifted, and you could finally breathe a little easier.

He wanted you to be yourself.

Your paranoia could settle, and you could finally enjoy life instead of sitting around and waiting for him to pull the plug on your academic pursuits.

Grabbing your new journal, you headed for the window. Ice and gray-flecked snow gathered on the grate outside. You sat on the small bench inside your apartment and cracked the window, relishing the chilly Gotham night. As you considered how best to christen your new journal, you heard the pop and drag of a grappling gun. Everyone from Gotham had come to recognize the call of an incoming vigilante.

Your gaze snapped toward the sky, searching the rooftops for the telltale smear of red on the black canvas of night.

Several seconds passed, the air thick with tension before you saw him. A speck of red landed on a roof two blocks down. Red Hood bolted, swallowed by the shadows before you fully realized you’d spotted him. You squashed the urge to call out to him.

Catching a glimpse of him every now and again was enough, you tried to reason with yourself. Knowing that if you ever ran into trouble again, Hood might be the one to save you was enough.

You almost believed yourself this time too.

To avoid the temptation of watching the sky, you retreated further inside with your journal. You sat cross-legged on your couch, anticipation buzzing through your veins as you tried to focus on the blank page. Much to your chagrin, words were harder to come by with your attention drifting back to the window every few seconds.

A distraction—that’s what you needed.

You turned on the TV, resuming where you left off in your rewatch of Bridgerton. It wasn’t long before you caught your attention straying toward the window once more. You groaned and laid out flat on the couch so you couldn’t see the window at all.

When he decided to grace you with his presence was outside your control. You knew that. The only logical step was to focus on something you could control. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through a slew of unread texts. Your thumb hovered over the picture Steph had uploaded. One of her posing with Cass after one of their self-defense classes.

She tried texting.

She tried calling.

You never answered.

She had every right to ignore you now if she wanted to, but it was worth a shot. You clicked the ‘call’ button and raised the phone to your ear. At the very least, you could leave a voicemail. Steph deserved an apology, even if she never wanted to speak to you again.

The call connected after two rings. “My horoscope has never led me wrong. It told me to expect an unexpected call today.”

You struggled to contain your smile. At least you could count on Steph to remain consistent in these trying times. “If you expected it, can it be unexpected?”

“Psh. Begone with your logic. So, does this call mean you want to be my friend again?”

You had the decency to act sheepish. “I know it was shitty of me, to disappear. I just...” There was no real justification for your actions, and you didn’t try to explain yourself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have cut you out like that. I was in my head, and if you want to tell me to pound sand, be my guest. But, if you’re amendable to an alternative, I would like to grab lunch tomorrow and catch up.”

Her phone crackled as she readjusted her phone, quiet save for a small hum of contemplation. You held your breath as you waited.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I am,” you answered honestly, “I got the pep talk I needed.”

You could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Good. Though, for the record, I’ve been known to give a pretty stellar pep talk myself. You could have come to me. I love telling people how great they are.”

She also loved devastating people with a single, well-aimed slight. You’d seen it for yourself on several occasion but thankfully had never been on the receiving end. Steph truly was a woman of multitudes.

You laughed despite yourself. “I’m getting used to friends. Sad, I know, but I panicked and this was the result. I am sorry. I’d like to make it up to you. Lunch is on me.”

“Ew, keep your money. I just want to hang out and talk shit about Dr. Edwin. I mean, can you believe he had the gall to throw a pop quiz at us? It's a philosophy class for fuck's sake? I wasn't even aware there were tests," she groaned before quickly adding, "You can also tell me about this life-changing pep talk while we’re at it.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. If she knew it came from Bruce Wayne, you’d never live it down. “Just a friend.”

“I thought you didn’t have friends?”

“Do you want to hang out or not?”

“Hm, suspicious,” she said with a sniff, “I’ll drop it for now, but we will talk about this tomorrow. Can I invite Cass? She missed you too.”

“Yeah, that sounds gr—”

Several things happened in that moment.

You heard the pop of a grappling gun.

Something large hit your fire escape.

A voice, warped by modulation, groaned.

Your heart lurched.

It couldn’t be...

“Hey? You still there?” Steph’s voice dragged you back.

“I—yeah, I’m here. Someone—I gotta go. I’ll text your tomorrow.” You hung up before Steph could respond and sat up.

Red Hood ambled to his feet, outlined by the flickering streetlamp outside. He rolled his shoulder experimentally, another round of colorful curses crackling from his mask.

“Hood?”

He froze.

Slowly, his attention shifted to where you perched on the couch, then toward the TV. You followed his gaze. Daphne Bridgerton hung off a ladder as Simon's hands disappeared beneath her dress. He pressed searing, open-mouthed kisses to her exposed throat, their moans heavy and loud in the silence that stretched on.

Your eyes widened as you hurried to turn down the volume, to turn it off, anything to spare you from the mortification of explaining the plot of Bridgerton to him.

The screen went black, and you whipped around to face him. “I—”

“I preferred Anthony’s season.”

Your brain turned a little fuzzy. “You’ve... you’ve seen it?”

“Out of morbid curiosity. Nothing more.”

The lie was far from convincing, but he stared back, daring you to call him on his bluff. You let it go because you had yet to fully accept that he was here, talking to you. He crouched to speak with you through your window. It was a sight to behold, his shoulders comically wide for the frame.

You stepped toward him, fearing moving too quickly might scare him off. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a while.”

That much was obvious. “It has.”

His fingers flexed around your windowsill, his leather gloves squeaking softly. Neither spoke. You waited, but he seemed reluctant to say anything more. That meant it fell to you to fill the empty air.

“Did you want to come in?”

It was smarter not to let him in. This was more than enough. No need to be selfish. And yet, you offered anyway.

He nodded and said, “Sure.”

Shoving the window up, he managed to squeeze inside, grunting softly as he rolled his shoulder again. You stepped forward to meet him halfway, nearly touching him now, but not quite closing the distance.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I, uh...” He stood a little straighter. “I fell just now.”

Another silence wrought with tension settled. You glanced around your apartment, wishing you’d known he would appear so you could have tidied up a bit. His attention, however, didn’t stray from you. It sat like a weight on your chest, pressing the air from your lungs.

After months of nothing, his presence shouldn’t have affected you the way it did, but your body fizzled with anticipation. Your hand fell back to your side. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“I wanted to see you.”

He recoiled, and you imagined that was something he meant to keep to himself. Still, his confession hung in the air between you, waiting for you to do something with it. He stayed rooted to the floor, not even the crackle of his breaths passing through his modulator.

You broke away from him as you considered your next move. You imagined what this meeting would be like. What you would say? How he would respond? Reality was far more daunting. Hesitantly, you turned to the small collection of books organized at the foot of your bed.

One chance.

You had to make this count.

Pulling three from the lowest shelf, you turned to face him once more. “I realize I don’t know anything about you.”

He didn’t correct you.

You pressed on, “I also realize that it’s probably safer that way considering who you are and the life you lead.”

Again, nothing.

Closing the distance once more, you offered him the stack. He reached for them, though you couldn’t tell if it was a deliberate choice or simply reactional. He released a shuddering breath that rippled through his modulator—the only indication that his brain hadn’t completely shut off.

Before you lost the nerve, you continued, “I read the Emily Wilson translation of The Odyssey. I know that feels like a lifetime ago, but I think it helped me understand the man who hides behind the mask a little better.” You looked at him in earnest as you fiddled with the strings on your yellow hoodie. “Our favorite books can say a lot about a person’s character. I wanted to share a few of my favorites with you too. Maybe this is how we can get to know each other without sharing too much.”

You waited for him to say something.

Anything.

Seconds passed, each more constricting than the last. This was the most vulnerable you’d been in a while. You’d hoped for a little more of a reaction, though it was difficult to know what was happening under that damn helmet. Your fingers twitched at your side as the silence stretch on between you.

You cracked first. “I’m sorry if this is weird, I just thought—”

He handed the books back to you, effectively shutting you up. You knew outright rejection was a possibility but experiencing said rejection was much worse. Your throat tightened as you fought back whatever knee jerk reaction clawed at your chest.

Once more, you were caught staring at each other, the space between you cavernous and achingly cold. Your grip tightened around the books, half-tempted to chuck them at his head.

How dare he come here.

How dare he toy with your emotions.

He could have stayed away.

He stepped toward the window. “I need to go.”

You didn’t stop him when he ducked through the window and shot into the night. Numbness quickly settled in his wake, soothing the sting of rejection as you set the books on your table and drifted listlessly back to your couch.

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

A/N: Let me take a second to thank those of you who have taken the time to read and comment. It means a lot, and brightens my day whenever I get a notification! I hope you enjoy the ride.

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

Tag List

Let me know if you want to be added!

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[didyoulookforme]

1 with post Matty PLSSSS

Allllll my love,

Belle <3

overwhelmed, but happy crying during sex

from the prompt list here

so, about a year after you officially became a couple, you finally ask if he wants to move in with you :') i mean, he might as well be the third member of the household (counting sweet pup kevin) since he already has a ton of his clothes there and even his own spot in your closet and dresser, lol. obviously, matty is overjoyed and totally emotional when you ask because what do you mean the woman of his literal (wet) dreams is letting him share your space?!

anyway, he says yes and that night he can’t stop beaming when he gets back home, endlessly telling hann about how ecstatic he is, how perfect you are, and how he’d do anything for you. he nearly forgets that now poor adam is going to be without a roommate, but adam is happy for him and, tbh, it might not be the worst thing to avoid waking up to matty roaming around in his boxers every morning.

a couple of weeks later, it's moving day and matty wakes up super early, freaking out about what if it doesn't work out, or if you get sick of him, or if he ends up annoying you. he calls you around 6:30 am to check for the one millionth time if you're sure. you're genuinely endeared by him (it's rare to see him lose his shit) so you just smile while comforting him and assure him that you'll want this as long as he does.

the boys and bff mandy have all offered to help out, but matty is the first one to show up at your place to drop off a few things before the bigger move. when you open the door, he's greeted with a big hug and dozens of kisses that instantly melt his heart because you're so excited the day is finally here. he's honestly overwhelmed by all the emotions swirling inside him. and it's not helped when you lead him to what used to be your office and studio, which is now completely empty. he's obviously confused and he tries so hard to lose it as you explain that you moved your stuff to a smaller room so he could have a space to truly call his own. he nearly drops the box he's carrying, scoops you up, and whispers a flurry of "i love you so fucking much, darling," "are you sure?" and "you don't have to do this."

with everyone helping, it doesn't take long for them to get everything to your place, meaning you're done in just a few hours and have the rest of the day to get matty settled in. you've definitely noticed that matty is quieter than usual, and he reassures you that he's okay. that he's just always thought of this day when you would actually live together, and now that it's here, it feels like a dream.

you spend much of the day organizing what turns out to be matty's new music space, quietly working while records play in the background. once you decide you're done, you suggest showering together because, you know, a move is sweaty, lol, and you do, spending a lot of time holding each other and making out. when you finish, it's sweet and domestic, getting dressed side by side. a routine you've done plenty of times before, but now it's different because it can happen every day if you want it. matty can't help but smirk as you immediately rummage through his clothes to find one of his favourite shirts for you to wear. just seeing you in his shirt and panties, so damn comfortable with him, is the definition of perfection.

you order dinner and share some wine while cuddling on the couch with sweet kev, occasionally stealing glances at each other like you can’t believe this is really happening. and again, when you do something super domestic such as washing the dishes together, it tugs at matty's heartstrings and he's now beyond overjoyed, feeling almost scared at how fucking happy and at home he feels.

when you finally end up in bed, it doesn't take long for you two to start making out again, but it's different than most times. it's very slow and gentle compared to your usual eagerness to devour each other from the first second. he's on top of you, arms on either side of your head while your fingers are tangled in each other's. you're secretly over the moon as you fucking love it when he's very careful with you so you're savouring every single second of his gentle kisses on your lips, every now and then biting and pulling at his bottom lip to make him laugh (and moan). matty's head is spinning at how good it feels to grind himself against you, really enjoying every single time your hips meet. he's so lost in the intimacy that he barely registers when you ask if you can have sex, and who is he to deny you? with one last peck on your nose, he gets up to undress and you're about to do the same, but he reaches over to stop you. "please keep on the shirt." so you drop your arms and only take off your underwear, very enamoured at the fact that he loves it when you wear his clothes.

matty ends up under the bedding and on top of you again, letting you jerk him off a bit before you guide him inside you. he's so fucking gentle that you feel every single inch of him fill you up, and when he bottoms out, he just stays there for a moment while kissing you again, because honestly, he doesn't know how long he'll last once he starts moving his hips. but he eventually does, going so slowly as he nestles his face in the crook of your neck, both of you holding each other so tight as he moves inside you. he keeps moaning against your ear, making the prettiest sounds, but you immediately notice when his voice starts to quiver so you quietly ask him to stop. you cup his face so you can look at him, and a knot forms in your throat when you see his glassy eyes and the tears rolling down his cheeks.

your mind starts to race a thousand miles per second, and you guess the worry in your eyes is obvious because he reassures you right away that he's okay. more than okay, in fact. he's just overwhelmed because he's now here in your home. "our home," you correct him, which makes him cry a bit more, and his voice gets shakier as he mentions that he's so fucking happy but doesn't want to mess things up with you ever again because this is all he's ever wanted. you feel some of his tears fall on your face and it reminds you there's only been one other time you've seen matty cry, and it makes you feel so many things at how open he's being with you as you know emotions are not easy for him.

you have to focus so hard not to cry yourself, but you somehow manage. instead, you wipe away the tears from his cheeks, replacing them with small kisses while telling him you love him over and over again. "you know that, right?" he slowly nods, shutting his eyes tight as he tries his best not to cry on you again. you feel his breath start to slow and his shoulders relax before he kisses you, telling you he loves you too. more than anything.

after a few more minutes of kissing, you can't help but giggle at how distraught he is as he apologizes for crying while he's still inside you. "kinda romantic and sexy," you tease, and he rolls his eyes so hard at that before mumbling "if you say so" against your lips. he makes sure to ask if he can start moving again, and you eagerly respond by grabbing his ass and guiding him back into you. it's still all so sweet and tender, yet it feels so fucking good because of how deep he is inside you. he also asks if he can cum inside you, but only does so after you've finished, too, always wanting to make sure his girl is taken care of.

it ends up with both of you being super sweaty and in need of another shower, where you finally ask if he can fuck you hard, which he obviously does, and now you're the one crying. not from sadness or nerves, but because of how good he's railing you against the bathroom tile <3

[thestuffedalligator]

[ra-vio]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Sunday doodle (singular)

[lilmissnatcat24]

shep finding out exactly who she's working for

((turn left/electric sheep spoilers))

“Oh… shit,” Shepard said under her breath. 

“Sorry,” Dr. Chakwas whispered back, as if that made up for it-- any of it. 

Shepard tried to hop out of her hospital bed. It suddenly felt barbed and poisonous. Her smock she wore felt impossibly itchy, even the air seemed laden with all sorts of toxins and chemicals that would do numbers on her brain and cognitive function. But her head screamed in protest, and Dr. Chakwas rushed over to forcefully push her back down on the bed. Shepard slapped her hand away like it was a bug, reluctantly sitting back down. 

“Is this a joke?” Shepard spat. “Cerberus is going around kidnapping active duty N7s? I know this isn’t Traverse space, but that could still be tried as treason-- terrorism, if you get the right lawyers! What, you think just because you gather up some people I used to know a long time ago, that makes this all suddenly okay? Am… Am I on the Normandy?” 

Suddenly, that became the most important question to Shepard. She wasn’t a recluse living under a rock, she saw the news cycle and its field day with Joker’s defection. The Alliance told her to quietly delete all records that she’d ever known Joker in the first place, destroying pictures and wiping news articles about him playing a role in the Heroes of the Citadel’s fight against Saren. She remembered that being one of the last times she talked to Anderson, one of the only times she got use of the comms buoy while she was FLT somewhere in Sol. He wasn’t mad at Joker, he wasn’t mad at the Alliance. He was mad that his ship was gone, and he never got to say goodbye to her. 

“The Normandy’s been stripped for parts,” said Miranda. “The SSV2 Normandy is far more advanced than that tin can could ever aspire to be.” 

“YOU STRIPPED THE NORMANDY?” 

“Commander,” Dr. Chakwas said delicately, as if Shepard was a lion that was circling her and about to pounce. “You need to do your best to stay calm. You’ve just woken up from a major surgery, stress won’t do you any favors.” 

“You don’t get to call me Commander,” Shepard said, disgusted by herself but not exactly knowing why. “You defected to a terrorist organization. I don’t even know if they have fucking commanders over here. Maybe they promote in terms of kill counts. Say, Miranda, how many quarian heads do you have mounted in your office?” 

“Oddly enough, zero. You’d be surprised how fast they disintegrate once their skin makes contact with fresh air,” Miranda said dryly.

[kyofsonder]

Life, aiming a loaded crossbow at me: I'm sorry. You were involved in the decisions that led to this, but you can't know whether they're worth it until everything is done. This is the first step. Endure it as best you can.

Me, shot with the crossbow bolt: [looks down and sees a label tied to the bolt that reads "metaphor for stressful situation"] Ow. Thanks for the warning, I guess? At least it's the only thing I'm getting shot with for a good while.

Life, reloading several bolts into the crossbow at once: Have you ever heard of speed shooting?

Me: I want it to be known that I resent this.

Life: Noted. [shoots me multiple times in quick succession]

Me, on the floor and stuck full of crossbow bolts all over my body: Recovering from this is gonna suck.

[dandyshucks]

oh wait this month marks my one-year of officially joining the s.elfship community woagh,,

also i think i'm going to make me and Guz's anniversary be on the 24th (of august) because that's when I first made my og sideblog for this stuff but it's ALSO the date when i rbed a post about him in 2020 where i said that i loved his character SOOOO... i think it's a good date to place it on :3

[nomaishuttle]

like pirating is so normal 2 me i forget there r ppl who r like antipiracy which btw is stupid. obviously

[gibbearish]

ok im steadily gathering that the speed at which i crochet is less "a little fast" and more "genuinely weirdly fast"

[mrfunnyinthebank]

i think my review of the 2025 royal rumble is that there are moments that are great and worth watching, but you don't have to - and i would say shouldn't, honestly - watch the bad parts for the good parts to make sense

and now that i've phrased it like that, i fear that this was by design to make it the most tiktokable royal rumble of all time

[dmumt]

genuine question is having a flatmate ever a pleasant experience

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*