#in my defense im going through a thing

[angry-geese]

tried to shuffle my queue but there may be a sudden influx of ghost content in the coming days skjdhfskj

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[andorerso]

sorry but comparing whether Jyn or Cassian suffered more in their life like it's the fucking trauma Olympics is fucking ridiculous

they both suffered the same and it's literally not a competition, hope this helps <3

[helloidkwhatimdoing-0]

Every day my adhd meds wear off, and every day i end up staying up way too late bc I'm hyperfixating

[lith-myathar]

.

[emotargaryen]

just remembered when i was talking to my mom yesterday and i said "when im an adult" and realized i had half a second to rethink bc she would be like 'hello you're almost 27' so i quickly added "like a real adult when im in my 40s or something." nailed it 👍

[surpriserose]

I think the phrase "video games dont cause violence" is a lot more specific of an argument than people care to realize because the term obviously isnt about like. Stardew valley and the "wholesome games" explosion. Because those didnt exist at the time the phrase was like. Created. Around shit like doom being blamed for the columbine shooting. The "violence" in video games dont cause violence has a specific image.

And arguing that video games dont cause violence had some use in attacking dominant narratives about columbine and later mass shootings. But it never went far enough because people only cared about video games and making fun of conservatives and not the real issue!!! That those dudes were white supremacist neonazis!!!! That racism is a massive motivator for mass shootings when theyre not caused by misogyny!!!!! That people were yes geniunely shocked and looking for any reasoning but also oh my god people capitalized on that shit and buried the racism unintentionally or otherwise

But it doesnt make sense to be repeating the same talking point when the context is entirely different. Video games are mainstream now your mom is a gamer. No one gives a shit if a kid plays gta. And thats fine! Video games dont cause mass shootings, racism and/or misogyny do. And those real causes matter because no shit the white supremacist american government isnt doing shit about them!!! But video games were a good target to look like they were taking action. But thats not the context video games exist in today. Fuck the united states has is reactionary domestically they dont need to do attack video games for mass shootings!! They can just blame trans people and especially trans women like they want to and fuel even more mass shootings reinforcing oppression and inequality and they dont do shit about them because random white supremacist terror helps a white supremacist country!!!! Dehumanization leads to violence, racism leads to violence and it flourishes under white supremacy!!

Like fuck "Violent video games" won so much so that the american military funds military propaganda like call of duty!!!! Video games never really mattered as soon as they were useful for imperialist military propaganda they were fine just like fucking. Idk trans people in the military. But the issue was never addressed and especially not by the video games dont cause violence guys.

Theres just no reason to use talking points from like 20 years ago. Especially when yeah video games are recognized for what they are. A medium just like movies and books. Which are also used for military propaganda. Like thats why people are asking new questions about how do video games contribute to imperialist violence and racism that fuels violence and not shit from 20 years ago thats from an entirely different conversation.

[problemsynth]

The gangrel and salubri count in Toronto is very high for a campaign that was supposed to be mostly ventrue, brujah and tremere....

There's like 12 of each.... Toronto has the highest salubri count and it wasn't even intentional.

[protobrieile]

sighhhhhhhhhhh

[oxy-codone]

one thing i love about being insane is that in my head literally anything for any reason is possible. You dont think teleportation or time travel is possible? well it is bc we will never truly ever know everything about the universe. It could be possible. hell magic could be real for all we know

[stunie]

“YOU CRAZY? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”

WIND BREAKER + YOU NOT RECOGNIZING THEM. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request : a chunk of it -> “..reacting to drunk reader not recognizing them and they wanna take reader home but reader won’t let them and tells them to fuck off or else her boyfriend (which is right infront of her) will kick their ass..”

notes : aa ! ! i am also a sucker for plots like these !! sorry it took me a while to get to >: thank u sm for sending this in nonnie <3 (cw alcohol ; but the consumption isn’t really mentioned in this)

HAYATO SUO.

“don’t you dare touch me,” suo’s eyes widen when you’re clumsily swatting at his hand, half lidded eyes narrowing into your best attempt at a glare. your words are slow and slurred, but he still manages to understand the gist of what you’re trying to say. “my boyfriend’s gonna make you pay if you do,” you huff, pointing an accusatory finger at him and jabbing it a couple times into his chest for extra measure.

“oh?” his gaze softens a bit, unbeknownst to you, and his smile is back the second he understands what’s happening here. “your boyfriend? where is he now?”

the way your glare immediately falls at your realization almost makes him feel bad, and he’s giving you a smile of pity when your lips tug into a deep pout. “um…” you frown, eyebrows furrowing to rid of the tears already starting to blur your vision, “i don’t know…”

“you don’t know?” suo’s voice is steady, easily hiding the way he’s stifling a laugh at the sudden change in your demeanor. he’s watching with amusement as you start to sniff, hands coming to messily wipe at your eyes with your sleeve as you start babbling, spewing out things about how “you need to find your boyfriend right this second” and how you’re “all lonely now.”

“oh dear,” he chuckles, hands coming to lightly grasp around your wrists, “your boyfriend has told you not to wipe your eyes like that before, hasn’t he? you’re going to irritate the skin.”

“mhm,” you give him a shy nod before staring up at him with confusion, gaze flickering to the thumb he’s bringing to gently swipe at the tears collecting along your lashes a moment later. the way you’re stiffening up at his touch is cute— and it looks like you’ve unconsciously recognized his familiarity even in this state.

“y-you know my boyfriend?”

how endearing.

“sure. i know him pretty well,” suo smiles, hand coming to press against your lower back as you guides you forward, “so let’s find him, okay? come with me.”

KAJI REN.

“huh?” you’ve got kaji completely petrified, eyes blown open as his hands defensively shoot up in front of him the second you’re slowly waving your pepper spray back and forth— the pepper spray he had bought you, by the way. “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i’ll tell you exactly what im doing,” you retort, eyes narrowing at the alleged unfamiliar man in front of you, “i’m gonna call my boyfriend here, and he’s gonna beat your ass if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”

ah. the slur in your voice is all it takes for the situation to suddenly click in his head. and now that he’s looking at you closer up, he’s surprised that you’re even able to stand in such a state. you’ve only come here with him, so the only way you’ll be going home is if he takes you home.

and that’s not looking very plausible right now.

he’s clicking his tongue before ripping through another lollipop, raking his fingers through his hair as he goes through the potential routes he can go with this. how the fuck was he gonna bring you home like this..? and actually, how would it make him look if people see him forcefully tossing you onto his back and booking it home?

this was a terrible situation through and through.

“um— come here,” he tries coaxing you the way he would with a stray animal, fingers coming to hesitantly pinch your sleeve to lift your arm without technically touching you, and he’s slowly moving it a couple inches to the right. “i’m your boyfriend. let’s go home.”

you shake your head.

his cheeks are flushing red when he realizes there are onlookers now, a handful of people watching the situation unfold, and you’re not helping his case at all— arms crossed across your chest as you eye him up and down suspiciously.

“c-candy,” he grumbles under his breath, deep red spreading to the tips of his ears. “i’ll give you a piece of candy if you come with me. sound good?”

TOGAME JO.

“m-my boyfriend can fight, you know” you stumble backwards, slowly backing up until your back meets with one of the tables, and it’s just great. you’re completely trapped now. he’s looming over you the next second, big hands resting on either side of you as you try to steady your breathing.

togame will be here any minute, you’re reminding yourself. this is fine.

“that so?” there’s a low chuckle from him, and he’s feigning innocence, looking around to locate this boyfriend of yours. “i don’t see him anywhere.”

your breath catches in your throat. your vision’s still dizzy, world spinning each and every time you move your head, and you search around your hips, internally cursing when you realize your purse is gone too.

no phone, and no boyfriend.

he’s moving awfully close to you now, and you can’t move— can’t call your boyfriend. “y-yeah,” you manage to stammer, thinking hard as you decide what to do. “he even taught me how to fight… so don’t test me.”

now that’s a bluff.

“oh. did he now?” togame’s brow raises at your threat, trying to resist the urge to laugh when you’re quickly nodding the next second, cute hands balling into little fists— and oh, that’s not quite how you’re supposed to do it.

but he’ll teach you another time. “so… in that case… you know what to do when a guy does— this?” his fingers wrap around your wrist before you can get a word out, pulling you forward in one swift movement.

you’re gasping as soon as you fall forward, crashing straight into his chest, and his arms are quick to wrap around you, big hand coming to pat at your head like a dog.

“oh, how weird. i didn’t think he’d teach you to hug other guys.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. cw : he jokingly refers to himself as your kidnapper (he did not kidnap you)

“what now, haji?” your eyes narrow at the phone screen being shoved an inch in front of your face, and ume’s gone puppy mode beside you, excitedly rocking back and forth on your bed as he waits for you to hit play.

“just watch! you’ll see. press play.”

you rub at your eyes, wincing at the way your head starts to throb, still pounding from the events of yesterday. the video that plays out in front of you is completely dark for the first seconds, and you’re quick to grow impatient— seconds away from huffing and pushing his phone away until you finally hear a rustling, followed your own voice.

“haji’s gonna make you pay,” you cringe at the sound of your own voice, and there’s a loud sniffle that follows. “so take me wherever you want, ya goof. he’ll really make you regret it when he finds me.”

no way.

“‘haji’ huh!” you hear umemiya burst into a laughing fit, your face burning at the way he’s poking fun at your past self, and you hear your drunken self scoffing at him a second after. “so what kinda guy is he, huh? your kidnapper’s gotta know!”

there was absolutely no way he recorded himself carrying you home.

“he’s huuge,” the video catches your hiccup, “he can toss you around like nothing. i’m warning you now. so you can put me down if you get it.”

from the muffled sound of your voice, you think ume probably had you tossed over his shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around the back of your thighs to keep you draped over him. “that so?” he chuckles, “what’s he look like?”

“i can’t believe you,” you sigh, fingers rubbing at your temples, “you’re unbelievable.” you’re sneaking a quick glance at your boyfriend, but he’s still focused on the video, soft smile tugging at his lips. “keep listening, ‘kay baby? this is my favorite part.”

uh oh.

“he’s the prettiest boy ever!” your cheeks are immediately filling with heat at your shameless confession, hand slamming over your mouth— there was absolutely no way. “you wouldn’t believe it. you’ll know when you see ‘im. he’s gorgeous. beautiful. i looove him! don’t fall in love with my boyfriend— you better not. he’s mine.”

[killjoy-prince]

them announcing games 4-6 as an a/po/llo j/us/tice trilogy is so funny like i get why they marketed it like that but only 1 1/2 games are about him and the one where 1/2 the games about him only focuses on him in the second and last case

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 2)

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.

a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog

wc: 4.9k

warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”

“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”

He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”

“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”

Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”

You laughed again. “Hardly.”

“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”

“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”

“That last one is very fun,” you defended. 

“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”

“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.” 

“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”

“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.” 

“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.” 

“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.” 

“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.” 

“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply. 

That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend. 

Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it. 

“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him. 

“Do what?”

“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.” 

“I’m not following,” Fiyero said. 

You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”

“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”

You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”

“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”

“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.” 

“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”

“Are you trying to compliment me?”

“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”

“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said. 

Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”

“I do not!” you exclaimed.

“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”

Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut. 

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on. 

“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”

Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that. 

“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly. 

“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”

“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”

“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”

Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did. 

You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word. 

You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. 

You needed to finish this essay immediately. 

-

You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you. 

“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair. 

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.” 

Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor. 

“Fiyero?” 

“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?” 

“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—” 

“What are you doing here?” you repeated. 

“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.” 

You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.” 

He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?” 

“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.” 

Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.” 

You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.” 

“That sounds about right, yes.” 

“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.” 

“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?” 

If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night. 

“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.” 

“How much have you written already without me?” he asked. 

“Five pages, but that—” 

“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted. 

“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this? 

Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity. 

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?” 

“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.” 

“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?” 

“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat. 

I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize. 

I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes. 

I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you. 

“Yes?” 

“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.” 

“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.” 

“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.” 

“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.” 

That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.” 

“I smile plenty,” you insisted. 

“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.” 

“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.” 

Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?” 

Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.” 

He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?” 

“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.” 

“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”

Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”

“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”

He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

“How could I?” you said weakly. 

Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes. 

“Don’t,” you warned. 

“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!” 

“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”

Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”

“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.” 

“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?” 

Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.” 

That got you paying attention. “What?” 

“I knew it!” Coralie exclaimed—nearly yelled, honestly. “I knew you liked him!” 

“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?” 

“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!” 

“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.” 

“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”

“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”

“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.” 

“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.” 

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.” 

She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.” 

“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same. 

You were comically doomed. 

-

The next day went… shockingly smooth. 

Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated. 

He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper. 

He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).

He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you. 

But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about. 

You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long. 

Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you. 

“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said. 

You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?” 

“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.” 

“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.” 

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”

You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.” 

“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked. 

“I’m not miserable,” you retorted. 

It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.

After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy. 

A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon. 

You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three. 

He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection. 

“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.” 

“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said. 

You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”

“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”

“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”

You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”

“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”

“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”

“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”

“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”

“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”

You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.” 

“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.” 

You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.” 

Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone. 

“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.” 

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”

“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.” 

You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”

“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.” 

“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.” 

Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence. 

That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence. 

It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to. 

Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing. 

Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”

He sighed. “Already?” 

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.” 

He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.” 

Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.” 

He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?” 

“Help you up?” 

You nodded. “I can do it myself.” 

He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.” 

“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said. 

“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.” 

“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.” 

Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now. 

“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused. 

Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?” 

“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.” 

Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero. 

Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for? 

You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself. 

The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use. 

You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface. 

You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up. 

His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”

You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.

“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”

You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something. 

This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone. 

And you found yourself laughing. 

“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.” 

You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder. 

“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?” 

“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!” 

He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.” 

“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?” 

For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.

“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut. 

“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat. 

“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?” 

The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you? 

She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered. 

“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”

“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?” 

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—” 

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight. 

“Of course,” he nodded.  

You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore. 

“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up. 

You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours 

“Until you can change,” he said. 

“...Thank you,” you said. 

Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again. 

“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting. 

You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs. 

You weren’t out of breath from exertion. 

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the End - Post-Apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - They're starting to think maybe this omega isn't so sweet.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader, injuries, masterbation

Masterlist

Patreon, Ko-fi and Throne

Now you were back in your little cabin in the woods. You had even lit a fire and dragged your mattress with its nesting contents into the small living room to get properly cozy. You sighed as you buried your face into the nest and relaxed further into the arrangement of blankets, pillows and dirty laundry.

Despite yourself, your omega whined and paced. She wanted their scent here too. You hadn't smelt them when they were up close because of the cotton up your nose but just that whiff on the wind had begun the beginning of the end.

You whined into the sheets and buried further into them. The idea of one of them surviving the traps sounded better with each passing moment. A feral alpha that was strong enough to withstand your defenses and persistent enough to find you. The thought made your chest warm and small purrs leave you.

"She has us running in fuckin' circles Cap," Gaz said to Price before he even noticed that he was upside down. "Trap get you?" He asked as if it wasn't obvious.

"Gettin' cheeky are you?" Price shot back and Gaz grinned as he grabbed the knife off the forest floor and walked towards his Captain.

"Nah, just takin' the piss Cap'n," He walked to the rope keeping him upside down and cut it. Price was fine, he was only a few feet off the ground. 

"Do you know where Soap and Ghost are?" Price asked as he put his beanie back on and took the combat knife back from Gaz.

"I found Ghost, he's stuck in a pit. And I don't know- oh speak of the devil and he shall come!" 

Soap emerged from the bushes, his hair singed at the ends and soot on his face. "Damn omega nearly blew me up!" He cursed and Gaz snorted which got him a dirty look. "Awa an bile yer head," Soap huffed and Price chuckled. "Where's LT?"

"In a pit." Price and Gaz responded at the same time. Soap let out an amused huff.

"So how are we gonnae get 'im out?" Asked the Scot and Gaz nodded to the rope.

"Reduce, reuse, recycle right?"

"Always ken ye were some kind o' hippie."

Ghost looked up into the snowing sky when he heard the rustle of bushes. A deer? A bunny? Maybe it was the omega coming to put a bullet through his head. "Oi, don't fall in too you idiot!" Gaz barked and Ghost laughed silently.

"You still alive in there Ghost?" Gaz asked as he peered his head into the hole.

"Unfortunately," Ghost replied and Gaz rolled his eyes.

"He's fine. Tie the rope to that tree."

After a few minutes the rope was tossed down and Ghost climbed up with a grunt. "My ankle is throbbin'," he grumbled to himself. It wasn't going to stop him or really slow him down significantly but it was a pride thing really. "Let's go get that 'mega."

Words spoken so easily are not actions done with ease.

They should've expected that it wouldn't be easy but some part of them hoped that you hadn't set up more traps. Gaz cursed as he fell into a pit and screamed, "Fuck!"

Price rushed over and his eyes darkened at the sight before him. This pit was not like Ghosts, instead it had sharpened sticks waiting for whoever was unlucky enough to fall in. Ghost pulled Gaz out, "You broken?" Price asked immediately even as he fussed over the puncture wound in Gaz's thigh.

"Negative," Gaz grunted. Ghost looked down at the two of them, a storm brewing in his dark brown eyes. "I'll be fine, just need to patch it up."

Price couldn't help the growl that left him when Gaz tried to stand. "No, you're gonna sit back down and we're gonna make camp."

You peaked outside as night fell and took in a deep breath then recoiled when you smelt them on the wind. They're closer warned your omega even as heat built up in your abdomen. 

You close the door quickly and wiped away the cold sweat. The near beckoned to you and you went back in, a dull throb from your clit making it harder to relax this time. 

You hissed defiantly and tried to ignore it until it became near painful. You growled to yourself and shoved your hand down your pants, no preamble or work up. Your body wanted an orgasm? You could give it an orgasm.

You were completely soaked, your slick coated your thighs and panties as you circled your puffy clit and bit down on your lower lip at the shocks of pleasure. Your mind wandered to territory where it shouldn't. That pretty one with his slender fingers toying with your clit while the one with a beard lapped at your gushing pussy like it was the fountain of youth.

You hissed out a breath and gyrated your hips against your own hand as you dipped two fingers down and sunk them in with embarrassing ease and a squelch. Your palm applied pressure to your clit as you pumped your fingers in and out. Petting that spot you could hardly reach and your legs tensed up as the pleasure built.

Your hips bucked and small moans left your mouth as you came on your fingers, slick gushed out around them and coated your thighs and soaked your panties. 

It was embarrassing just how quick you came from just those images, the other two weren't even in it but you refused to think about it. Your body hummed, the small waves of pleasure bringing you down into a cozy sleep.

[wonjns]

a dip — l.cy

⌗ pairing. . . anton lee x male reader

⌗ genre. . . smut

⌗ summary. . . you went with your fuck buddy to the pool… that was your first mistake.

⌗ includes. . . sub!reader, fwb!swimmer!anton, semi-public sex (pls don't esp not this one), unprotected sex (also don't),

⌗ wc. 2.5k

°A/N. . . sorta requested but also not really,, also not proofread nor very pretty or as descriptive as i like to be im so sorry this is just what you get when im horny bc these pictures ruined my life

you knew much better than to agree to joining anton lee at the pool of all places.

being a lifetime friend (occasionally with benefits) of his, you knew the swimmer could spend hours upon hours at the pool and not feel an ounce of exhaustion. he'd often convince you to stay long after you finished swimming yourself, just to wait for him to complete his cool down routine before driving you home.

the worst thing of all, though, was that you were constantly reminded just how much he had hidden underneath those oversized sweaters and jeans that he always wore. behind that whole shy boy aesthetic he had going on, was the physique of what you could only compare to a greek god, and even he knew it.

you never got used to it - seeing anton's chiseled body exposed in the aquatic habitat that felt like a second home to him. no matter how sweet his smile or how loud his laugh, nothing could distract you from drooling over a body like that cutting through the water with such ease. it was even worse because the sweet boy knew exactly what he did to you.

he tried to cut you some slack, though, respecting your effort to seem unbothered every time he'd peel his layers of clothing off before jumping into the pool, wearing nothing but his tight blue swim trunks that suffocated his muscular thighs.

one time he even pretended not to notice how you were so worked up that you had to go not-so-subtly get yourself off in the community bathroom.

in your defense, it was a heated indoor pool, and at the time he had completely annihilated you in a race. that proud smirk paired with the steam rising from his rippling back muscles had you biting back moans from the sight alone.

so naturally, it was to no one's surprise once things turned physical between you both.

the adrenaline that swimming gave anton put him on cloud nine, and being the stubborn ass that you were, you were determined to somehow beat this pro swimmer in a race - only for it to end with you losing miserably and somehow hornier than when you started. things would always end one way or another, a taunting comment directed at you leading to his bare back pressed against the cool tile walls of the changing room while you yanked his shorts low enough to take his throbbing cock into your mouth.

but today you were going to be good.

you hadn't hooked up with anton for a while, and were truly only tagging along because he needed a friend to time his laps for the upcoming season.

however, it'd be a lie to say you didn't have to give yourself a prep talk as you set your things down on the pool chairs, noticing nobody was there tonight. it was business as usual, though. anton always convinced the coach to let him have later access while the rest of the team went home so he could focus. you just found it harder to control yourself around him when left alone like this, but tonight you had a new type of dedication to simply swim, help your friend, and go home.

besides, why would it be so difficult for you to keep it in your pants for just one night?

‘oh, thats why.’ you groaned internally as you watched anton strip his shirt from over his head.

fuck, had he been bulking up?

you pretend not to notice how his biceps flex as he runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair while you stripped down to your swim trunks as well. god, his skin was practically glowing even from the dingy indoor lighting.

your head whipped around back towards his direction when you heard a low hiss, watching his face scrunch slightly as he stepped down the pool's ladder. your dick twitched a bit at the sight of his furrowing brows and low groan as he sunk deeper into the water, but you mentally slapped yourself back to reality.

"what's with you?" you questioned approaching the steps, getting ready to enter as well.

"i forgot to remind coach to turn the heaters on tonight," he responded. "shit, its freezing."

you thought he was being dramatic, but the chilly water indeed bit back when you lowered your ankles in. you decided against submerging for now, simply swirling your legs in circles while you spun anton's stopwatch in your hand.

anton began a quick warm up, stretching and dunking himself under water several times and adjusting quickly to the temperature. his wet hair splaying out around his face made him even more gorgeous than he already was, and you felt your cheeks gain a sickening warmth.

"alright bro, let's get started." you cleared your throat, speaking up to hurry the process along before your resolve crumbled.

"sure, bro." he mocked before sending a wink your way. shit, he was already on to you.

anton held eye contact with you as he hoisted himself out of the water to walk over to the swim lanes, causing your breath to silently falter. your instincts made you the first to break contact though, as your eyes followed the droplets that slid down his broad chest. they each trailed down past his perked nipples, over his abs that you could never steal long enough glances at, and eventually disappear into his waistband before leading to — that.

to say the least, anton was generously endowed when it came to the size in the south. the ‘quiet man with a fat cock’ stereotype was only proven true with him, if the way you struggled to fit all of him in your mouth was anything to go by.

anytime anton wore those small trunks or, god forbid, the uniform speedo during his meets - it was impossible to tear your eyes away from how the soaking cloth material clung around his massive length when he emerged from the water.

and boy was he massive. that was a fact you could never forget but somehow still surprised you each time to this day.

you were such a pervert. and he loved it so much.

only 30 minutes into his laps you found yourself desperately missing the shy boy act that he would put on for every body else. once he was in athlete mode, the confidence in his demeanor made your self control fly out the window. it didn't make sense how someone as massive as him could practically fly through the water, flexing every inch of his muscle like it was nothing.

it forced you to reminisce on how he was in bed, constantly taking you with his immense stamina. he could toss and turn you in any way at any given pace, making you see stars like it was nothing — even when you were the one to start things, he made sure to finish them. you remembered the way his biceps would tighten and ripple in your grasp, holding on for dear life as you begged for him to thrust into you harder or squeeze you tighter. you missed the sore feeling those big hands of his would leave on your hips and thighs.

get it together, y/n.

if you had a dollar for every time you had to yank yourself out of the gutter in just the span of one hour, you'd be rich enough to drop out of school entirely.

you had allowed yourself to sit calf-deep in the water at the end of the racing lane, but it wasn't until he reached you after knocking out 3 laps in a row that you regretted your decision. he emerged from the water with a big splash, throwing his head back and letting out the most erotic sigh you could imagine as he finally let air reach his lungs.

a lump formed in your throat, watching anton's buff chest rise and fall in tune with his breaths while both long arms gripped the edge of the pool on either side of your legs.

"what was my time for those?" the swimmer finally asked you once he had stabilized his breathing.

"oh! right, uhm...." you snap out of your trance, gut dropping when you looked down to the stop watching still ticking in your hand.

"you forgot to stop it, didn't you?" anton asked, a tone of more amusement rather than annoyance seeping through his smirk. "don't tell me you got distracted?"

"fuck, i'm sorry." you groaned, annoyed with your own sexual frustration overtaking your ability to play it cool.

"it's fine." anton shrugged, pulling his body out of the water and plopping on to the ledge next you, making you flinch as copious amounts of water splashed around the concrete. "just let me fuck you."

your eyes widened, damn near choking on the breath you gasped in. when you looked up to see his mischievous eyes, you swore you felt him leaning closer.

"what the fuck, ton?" you exhaled, slightly punching his arm, savoring the split second of contact you made with his warm skin.

"god, its been like a month, y/n. i can't focus on conditioning and you can't even click a button for me, clearly." anton chuckled. "lets just do it so i can have a good season. you know you’re my charm.” he teased, gently nudging you back with his elbow.

you couldn't believe the causality he was saying all of this with. but he did always call you his good luck charm, somehow managing to break his own personal record anytime you'd let him hit the night before or suck you off right before a meet, swallowing your cum like it was his own lewd type of protein shake.

it would also be a lie to an insane degree to say you didn't miss the way his soft skin felt gliding along yours whenever he would grind into you, his huge hands giving you a sense of stability in the way he would hold you down.

anton could tell from the way you were shamelessly biting your lip that you were thinking about it. he took the initiative to push your shoulders down until your back was flat against the concrete.

he had barely let you utter out a desperate "okay" before he was rolling over on top of you, not hesitating for a second to drop his hips directly over yours so you could feel how hard his thick bulge had already gotten. you moaned aloud, hips immediately bucking up to meet his as he lowered his head to your neck, feathering wet kisses along your column.

the water dripping from his body was cold, but the warmth of his torso easily overcame it all when you needily reached out to pull the entirety of his weight onto you. you didn't realize how much you missed the rippling of his shoulder blades beneath your palms until you felt his body rolling in perfect tune with yours. you ran your shaky hands all over his chiseled back as you felt his hardened nipples brush against yours, and while you hopelessly wanted more you also didn't want this feeling to end.

you felt a little pitiful, just sitting there allowing yourself to moan in pure bliss as your wet bodies press into each other, gripping anton's wide shoulders as his kisses picked up in heat. he was sucking hickeys into the sweet spot of your neck while his swim trunks tightened more and more as he humped against you, making you dizzier by the second.

"you sound so fucking hot whimpering for me like that." he moaned, licking a long trail up your neck to your jaw.

you didn't have any time to respond before he was pulling you into a searing kiss, his plump lips sloppily devouring yours while groaning into your mouth. you remembered how much you loved the way he tasted, and silently cursed at yourself for going this long without him.

when your lungs began needing air, you broke apart to moan out his name, just for him to grab your jaw and bring you back in for an even more overwhelming kiss. he was taking over every sense you had, filling your entire consciousness with nothing but thoughts of him. your hips bucked up incessantly, your body begging for him since your mouth couldn’t.

the hard concrete beneath you was starting to cause your limbs to ache as anton's mass pressed deeper into you, and he seemed to have read your mind, because before you knew it he was lifting himself up and dragging you into the water.

your mind was much too hazy to even register the vast difference in temperature, especially when you were clinging to anton like you needed him to breathe. it was as if something had taken over you and put you in the passenger seat of your own movements - all you could feel yourself doing was mumbling endless pleas for him to fuck you before pulling him in to reconnect your lips.

you could feel anton's shit eating grin against your lips as he backed you up against the ledge, slightly lifting his leg against the pool wall in order to guide you grinding your clothed cock against his thigh. he took advantage of your loud moan to suck on your tongue, loving the way your fingers curled into his wet hair.

there was only so much you could handle before you were reaching below the water to pull your own swim trunks off, deciding that if anton didn't fuck you right then you might actually explode. anton helped you discard the shorts and send them flying somewhere atop of the water. the second you were free, you felt your cock on his abs, causing your hips to take action and grind against the muscle before you could even think about what you were doing.

some combined variant of a choked laugh and moan left anton’s throat as he watched you throw your head back, obsessed with the way you were using his body to chase the pleasure you craved. he decided that he had his fun, slipping free from his trunks as well and lining himself up against you.

"deep breaths, baby." anton whispered, trying to sound confident but the words coming out as a tremble. you would normally laugh at how it almost sounded like he were advising himself, but you were too far gone.

when he finally bottomed out in you, his size and the pressure of the water had your mind in a different realm. you clung to anton's round shoulders as he held you securely, giving you time to adjust after not having him in you for a month.

"this little ass still so tight and ready for me, i knew you missed me." he sighed out, giving you small experimenting rolls of his hips.

when you gripped him tighter and started fucking yourself on his cock, he knew he was in the clear to send you to oblivion, and thats exactly what he did.

between the desperation in anton’s thrusting and the feeling of your member rubbing along his built torso, it didn't take much for either of you to approach your highs rapidly. you were soon announcing them to each other while you clung your slippery bodies tight together, the once still water around you turning into nothing less of a tsunami.

"'m cumming, ton." you cried out, just for him to groan deeply in agreement.

he held the back of your neck, pushing your head down to make eye contact with him as you both reached your climaxes at the same time, an oddly intimate feeling settling over you in the moment and making your skin buzz.

panting against each other's faces, anton leaned in to claim your lips once more before you were both giggling like a couple of fools, padding your hands around the water as you brought yourselves down to earth.

it took a couple of moments for you to gasp horrendously at the realization of what you both just did, looking to anton with so much terror etched in your eyebrows that he couldn't help but laugh.

"did we just- the school's pool- we-" you sputtered aimlessly, only stopping once anton's hand emerged from the water to cover your mouth.

"don't worry about it, coach will handle it. he won't mind, because after that i'm about to bring this school three new medals."

© 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐧𝐬 — all rights reserved

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter three. boobs and beers

pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 4.7k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, mention of a panic attack, boobies lol, uhmmmmm shopping as a fat girl, Scarlett should be her own warning, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholism.

authors note ⇢ heyyyyy….. im sick and i am soooo fatigued but i wanted to release this, i’ve been spoiling the kildare nights readers and i needed to give fearless some attention. sorry for any mistakes queens, love you guys! gimme ur thoughts!!

“Why are we here?” You ask as he plops down onto the seat across from you at the mall food court. He slides over a cup of fro-yo at you. A frown falls to your lip when you take a peek in it. “You get plain fro-yo?”

His eyebrows furrow, shrugging. “Yeah?”

You scoff in pure disbelief as you glance into his own cup. Plain chocolate. “That’s… like… a crime.”

Getting up off your cold metal seat, you pick his cup as well and walk back into the frozen yogurt shop. The cute worker behind the register has a bored expression on her face until she spots you. A bright smile falls onto your face, as does hers, as you meet each other. “Heather.”

“Gorgeous!” She squeals happily as you walk over to the register with the tall guy trailing after you, watching the two of you curiously.

“My friend here, he doesn’t know the art of fro-yo. Is there any way we can add some toppings? Promise I’ll pay for every cent.” You ask her sweetly. The red head nods happily, ushering you to go on in.

You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you walk over to the toppings station. A wave of embarrassment flushes through you as you realize something. This makes you look fat. You are. You are a big girl but you try and hide it. With big sweaters, baggy jeans, eating small portions when out— not showing others that you come to the fro-yo place so often that the cashier knows you by name.

“My dad and I come here all the time.” You don’t mean for your words to sound so defensive but it’s what you’ve had to do most of your life. Defend yourself. “It’s the one thing he can afford.”

His eyebrows furrow, head tilting gently. You realize he’s not one for many words but his looks say a lot. He’s curious about you. And confused. “Isn’t your dad rich?”

You take a quick peek at him and feel a weight lift off your shoulders when you see his eyes have moved to scour the toppings. “Anthony isn’t my dad.”

He nods, ahh-ing. “Right, he’s your step-dad. What about your real father?”

You shrug lamely, not really wanting to talk about him. “Nothing. We just like fro-yo. Are you seriously putting Graham crackers in your fro-yo?” You ask, eyes wide and with a glint of disgust at his choice.

His eyes squint with annoyance as he looks up at you. “What’s wrong with Graham crackers?”

“Everything.” You reach over the toppings and scoop up a spoonful of gummy bears. “Graham crackers are like… green peppers on your pizza.”

This gets a reaction out of him. “You don’t like green peppers on your pizza?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I don’t know how we’re gonna get along with all these differences between us.” Your tone is playful as you speak this. You reach over and grab a few maraschino cherries and plop them on your fro-yo.

“Now that, I can get behind.” He scoops up the cherries and loads them into his cup. He’s scooping up Oreo crumbles beside you as you take him in. There’s a slight stubble growing on his jaw, a green baseball cap on top of his head. He's a lot more laidback than you’ve ever seen. He's usually in khakis and polo shirts. Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie, with thick sneakers that you’re sure cost a fortune.

“You know,” you speak up after a moment, his eyes turning to you. You can’t make eye contact, eyes looking everywhere but his eyes. “We’re twins.”

“What?”

You point to his clothing and yours. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie. “We’re dressed alike.” The two of you are done and back at the register, weighing your cups for the price. Heather begins ringing you two up and you’re about to swipe your credit card when he beats you to it. “I had that.”

But he ignores you as the payment goes through and Heather wishes you two a good day. “First things first,” you’re walking down the mall side by side, eating your fro-yo. “You need to stop dressing like me.”

“Hey, this is comfortable.” You defend yourself.

“Comfortable won’t get you anywhere. You have to show some cleavage every now and then.”

This offends you, a scoff leaving your mouth. You’re glaring up at him but he doesn’t seem to care, eyes moving to and fro, checking the mall out. “Why do I need to do that?”

“Real talk?” He asks you, eyeing you as if trying to see if you’ll get offended or not.

You take a deep breath in and nod. “You look like a little boy.”

You should be offended. But you can’t. Instead, a laugh bubbles out of you and you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “N-no, no I don’t.” But you don’t believe your own words. You sigh, eating another spoonful of fro-yo. “Okay thine.” If your mother were here you’d be getting a scold for talking with your mouth full.

Rafe simply rolls his eyes at the sight and hands you a napkin which you happily take. You chew on your cold gummy bears for a moment before speaking again. “Fine. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here?” You look around the mall with a soft and annoyed huff. “Where to first, sensei?”

You can see he’s visibly holding back a smile when he says— “Victoria Secret.”

The store is unbelievably pink. But your eyes flicker about the store and the mannequins with a sparkle to your eyes. You’d never stepped foot in this place unless Scarlett was at your side. Nothing about you ever felt sexy and she came here to feel sexy. So you never found your footing in the store. And now, with Rafe at your side, you feel even worse. Surface level, you only see undergarments for skinny people. Smaller people. And the idea of not finding anything and Rafe watching you get shut down makes you dread the rest of your day.

“Never seen someone look at mannequin boobs and frown.” You’re brought out of your painstakingly insecure thoughts at the sound of Rafe’s voice. You peek up at him and are surprised to see a softer look to him. Well, as soft as Rafe Cameron can get. “Seriously, it’s just bra shopping. And pantie shopping. I thought girls went crazy for this shit.”

“Okay, misogyny.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. To anyone else, it would look like a natural pose but you’re hiding your chest, as if that would stop this from happening. “I’m just… shouldn’t I do something else before shopping?” You hope he understands what you mean.

But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, “nah.” His nonchalant response sends a twinge of annoyance through you, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He starts making his way into the store, too much interest in his face when you call out to him.

“Seriously, Rafe, I’m too big for this.” This stops him in his steps turning to you with a look on his face that you can’t decipher. Not that you ever can, Rafe Cameron is an incredibly hard person to read.

“There’s a plus-size section.” Are his words and you feel a wave of heat come over you. Your mouth twitches as you try to hide the shame you’re feeling. But it seems you and Rafe don’t have that in common— you wear your feelings on your face.

“Look before we… I should probably, I don’t know… lose some weight.” Is your response to him, eyes refusing to meet him at all.

He sighs loudly, and you sneak a glance at him to see him rubbing the inner corner of his eyes with what you think is annoyance. And this only worsens your intense feelings of insecurity. And he speaks, “you don’t need to lose weight to be hot, ___. You’ve got a stunning body, you just have to know how to work it.”

Your eyes widen as they meet him for the first time in a while. And oddly enough, you can see he’s telling the truth. You wanted to see a lie on his face. You wanted to be proved right and know that he’s just as disgusted by you as all the boys in your school. But you can’t find it. “Now, are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or are we gonna find a bra that makes your boobs pop?”

You bust out laughing at this, covering your face with your hands in a shy manner. “Fine, but you have to promise to never repeat the word Boobs to me. Like, ever again.”

“How about breasts?”

“Gross.”

—

One of the kind ladies in the shop finds a few pieces for you that fit well. Surprisingly, you have a good time. The lady is unbelievably kind and finds you matching sets. And you come to realize you’ve never had a positive female shopping experience.

Most of your shopping was done with Scarlett and your mother at your side. And they seemed to be the unstoppable duo that knew just how to put you down. Your mother would grab at your stomach when you tried on a shirt that didn’t fit quite right. “This is where you need to focus,” she’d point at the spots that she felt needed to be fixed. “Next time you’re at the gym, focus on this. Talk to my personal trainer, he’s there all the time.” You went to the gym the next day. Apparently, she had spoken to her trainer and he grabbed you in the same way your mother did. You never went back again.

Scarlett. She’d make it a competition. If you found a top that made your eyes crinkle with the thought of wearing it proudly, she’d find the smallest size there was and try it on. Once you’d see her walk out with a top you were carrying on your arm, you’d set it down. She puts you to shame every single time.

So, now that you’re in a new shop, wearing a new push-up bra that fits like a perfect corset for your chest, you feel anxious. Beyond anxious. There are people everywhere. Chats coming from every single direction. But the last thing you need is to have a panic attack in front of Rafe. You barely know the guy.

“Okay… so what now?” You ask, clearing your throat to push away the bad memories of the store.

“Now, we shop.”

It takes an hour. A long hour to walk throughout the store and have him pick out outfits for you. Having him know your size was absolutely terrifying. But he didn’t bat an eye as you told him and he jumped right into it. Every now and then, he’d find an ugly shirt and hold it up to you and he’d mutter a joke. Jonah would love this one, is his go to. And before you know it, you’re no longer on the verge of a breakdown.

You’re in the dressing room and for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about how you look. Or how the jeans fit you a little too snug around your hips. You don’t feel panic at the thought of trying clothes on in the stuffy dressing room.

You come out in the first outfit and Rafe immediately busts out laughing. The green jeans are ridiculously long and the top is a corset top with blue hand-drawn flowers on them and ridiculously large bows at the shoulder straps. You knew it was a joke outfit but it was nice to mess around.

You jokingly strut, pretending the room is a runway. “Keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you give him a spin and this only makes him laugh some more. You feel a sense of pride for making Rafe Cameron laugh. Sarah’s text flashes through your mind. A man who hasn’t smiled in years. And yet, he’s holding onto his side as you strike another odd pose.

“Alright, alright,” his smile is pretty, you notice. And contagious, unable to hide your own as you listen to him. “We need to get serious.” But he’s still chuckling. “Try on a real outfit this time.” So you do. He likes them all. A few shirts ride up over your belly a bit too much and some jeans don’t fit over your thighs but you leave the store with eight new outfits.

Usually, you leave with hurt feelings and nothing but.

You two are on the ferry back home when your day together is over. It’s a forty minute wade back but neither of you seem to care. He’s sipping his Big Gulp drink and watching as you try and balance the water bottle lid on your nose.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.” There’s a tinge of amusement to his tone.

Your head is thrown slightly back as you keep trying but it’s to no avail, it keeps toppling over. With a huff, you pick the cap up and shove it into your pocket. “It’s a trick my dad usually pulls. It’s better with a quarter though.”

Avoiding the topic of your father is a skill you take pride in. Your mother always turns into a sobbing mess when you bring him up. Your step-dad isn’t ever really home and when he is, it’s awkward. The only person you could share him with was Scarlett. That was the one topic she never snarked at you over. Not to your face, at least.

“Can I ask?” You turn to him, criss cross on the bench that you two are sitting on, wind blowing your hair. You tuck a strand, nodding. “Where is your dad?”

“The cut.” You answer honestly. Your mother hides him from her new rich friends. She hides her past from all of her new rich friends. Her story isn’t as compelling as Ward Cameron’s. He built his way up. Your mother caught the attention of an older man and married him. She’s ashamed about it.

This seems to shock him but he’s not Rafe Cameron if he doesn’t try and hide it. “And you’re close?”

You shrug, turning to the cloudy sky. It’s easier to talk about hard things when you don’t have to look at anyone, you find. “We’re… we definitely have a relationship. But… it’s hard to build on it when my mother doesn’t know I’m talking to him.”

You can feel his eyes on you, mouth slightly parted as he takes your words in but you can’t turn to him. “She forbids you from seeing him?”

You hum a small ‘mhm’. “He’s a stain in her perfect life.”

“Not in yours?”

“He’s a…” you pause, searching for the proper words. “An escape. Like… in Coraline. The door. He’s my door to a… less suffocating world. Without the buttons, of course. And alcoholism.” You try to joke. He doesn’t find it funny, the look on his features softened and taking you and your words in. Letting them settle. “He’s not perfect. I get why my mom left him. Why she wanted better. He’s a drunk who can’t keep a steady job. When we go out, I buy us dinner. He couldn’t take care of my mom or me so…”

“So she found the next best thing.” He finishes off for you. You turn to him at this, nodding as your hair keeps blowing in the wind. You don’t feel exposed in the way you do when speaking of your father to anyone. Rafe’s not judging you or figuring out how to use it against you. His eyes are sincere. Face stoic, but his eyes are sincere. You hate eye contact but if it means getting a better grasp of Rafe, you’d never look away. And you don’t.

“What about you?” You ask with sincerity. “I heard the rumors. The Cameron men butting heads.” You admit sheepishly.

He sighs, turning away. It’s his turn to look away while speaking of the hard stuff in his life. He lays back on the bench seat, long legs stretched out and kicked back up on the rail. “Well… you know… fathers…” it doesn’t take much to see he doesn’t want to speak of it.

Instead, you nod, a small and sad laugh leaving you. “Yeah… fathers.”

The ferry stops at the port a while later after thirty minutes of talking about your classes to him. He’s dropping you off at home, bags of clothes at hand. “By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.” And he drives off, leaving you stumped.

—

—

Debut one of your new outfits. What the fuck does that mean? You can’t picture yourself going to a party in clothes that aren’t your comfortable ones. Your comfort hoodie and sweats are what you spend most of your time in when out of school.

Getting ready without a friend is depressing. Usually, you’d have Scarlett at your side fluffing up your hair and helping with your makeup. Not that you wore it often but on the rare occasions that you needed to go to an event with your family, she was by your side. And it was during those moments that her honest side shined the brightest. She was careful with you. Honest but not brutal.

You shake your head to get yourself to stop thinking about her. You don’t want to be affected. You don’t want her to have this much of a hold over you. You need to stop loving her.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Anthony’s voice is heard as you make your way to the door. You freeze in your step, not wanting to see him. Your mother had gone on a so-called spiritual retreat in Puerto Rico without telling you so now, you were under Anthony’s care. But he didn’t have kids of his own and you came to him when you were twelve years old, he never had to take care of you.

You turn in your spot, a stiff smile on your face. “Uhm… nothing. Just… going out… to watch a movie…”

He gives you a bore expression, hand in a bag of chips. “You don’t put on a mini-skirt to watch a movie. You’re going to a party, aren’t you? God, you’re a baby, you shouldn’t be wearing that.”

You scoff, “bye, Anthony.” You open up the door and slam it as he’s telling you to be careful.

Rafe’s truck is in your driveway and he’s standing out of it, leaning up against the hood. His eyes are closed and he’s bopping his head gently, singing a quiet song. The sound of your shoes hitting the gravel of the driveway catches his attention, eyes immediately opening and on you.

Your smile is shy as you hold your arms out, showcasing your outfit. It’s a black mini skirt matched with a simple black and low cut top, a leather jacket over it. Simple. But extravagant for you. “So… how do I look?” You really, really want to know.

His eyes are taking you in. Starting from the shoes you picked out, to your thick thighs, your hips, your waist, your chest (which you’re proudly wearing your push-up he bought you), your neck. And he settles on your face. Done up in makeup, hair let loose in its natural form. He gets up off the hood of his car and walks up to you. “You look…” he pauses, eyes flickering across your face again. He's lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue lightly ghosting his dry lips. You nervously put your weight on your other foot, and this awakens him. “Fine. You look fine.”

“Oh.” You didn’t expect much. But you also didn’t expect very little. “I mean… like, if Jonah were to see me do you think he’d be… starstruck and completely in love.”

This gets something out of him, a small snort of a laugh. “Give a girl a push up bra and she thinks she’s a goddess.”

“Hey!” You laugh with disbelief as you walk after him, the two of you making your way to his truck. “You told me I need to be more confident!” He opens the passenger door with no qualms and helps you in. He closes your side of the door and hops into the driver's seat. “Okay, so what’s the game plan?” You ask as he starts driving out of your driveway, hand stretched behind your seat and looking back for any other cars.

“The game plan is,” he turns the wheel, the veins in his arms popping slightly but you have to force yourself to look away and straight at the road as he starts driving off. “Act nonchalant. People are going to notice the style change but you’re going to ignore it. If they ask, you simply wanted to try something new. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“So… if they compliment me, I… ignore it?”

“You’re hopeless. No, I mean, accept the compliments but brush off other comments.”

“Okay, I’m confused.”

He huffs and before you know it, the two of you are bickering. Back and forth. What he means. What you mean. It’s almost hard to remember that just last week you two weren’t even in the same world. Now, you’re in his truck, wearing the new clothes he bought you and bickering.

The walk into the party is nerve-wracking and all you can think of is how your thick thighs are in the wind. Which means you’re much colder than usual you’re not used to being cold outside, always so wrapped up in your warm clothes. You stop at the patio of the raging house, looking up at Rafe. “So… this is where we part ways?”

This visibly confuses him. “What? Why would we part ways?”

You shrug, “I don’t know… I didn’t come to parties often but the few events I went with Heather… we would part ways.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I’m here with you.”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“I’m not being a dick.”

“That’s you being a dick. I’m not stupid for—“

“I’m not calling you stupid, god.”

“You’re here!” A loud squeal pulls you out of your mini argument with Rafe. Your eyes meet a pair of familiar brown ones. Sarah rushes to you immediately and practically jumps into your arms. You laugh happily as you hug her right back.

“I’m here!”

She pulls away from you with a small pour. She’s drunk. Kiara comes out from behind her, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Guess who else is here?” Sarah’s voice is loud as the four of you walk into the home which is blasting with music.

“Who?”

“Scarlett.” This makes your blood run cold. That little piece of confidence that you carried vanished. You weren’t feeling yourself anymore. She’d see you in your new outfit and would make fun of you.

“We’ve got your back.” Kiara’s arm wraps around your shoulders as you walk side by side. “You won’t have to deal with her alone.”

“By the way, you look so damn good!” Sarah squeals as you all make your way into the kitchen where Kie grabs a few beers and tosses one each to the group. Rafe catches his beer easily and when he notices the slight panic in your face, he catches yours next, opening it quickly for you. You take the beer mindlessly, listening to Sarah drunkenly babble. Kiara’s entertaining her, laughing when she says something she shouldn’t say far too loudly. And you find yourself enjoying it.

You always dreaded parties. When a kid went around inviting everyone, they’d stop with you and Scarlett but only invite her. They would barely spare a glance at you. And at the time, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You’d rather be at home and cuddled up in bed with your cat, binge watching a show. But this… you like this. You like that Kiara and Sarah are bringing you into the conversation even when you’ve been quiet for minutes. You like that Rafe’s by your side like a scary guard dog. Well, you don’t really like that part so much. People are staring. They aren’t used to the Rafe Cameron not having a baddie on his arm.

Kiara and Sarah are in the middle of dancing a silly dance in the kitchen when you turn to Rafe. “No ones even noticing me.”

He snorts out a scoff of a laugh. “I’ve caught like eight guys since we came in, looking at your boobs.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not anyone noticing me. That’s them noticing my girls. And second, I told you not to say boobs to me.”

“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.”

“God, shut up. You’re gross. There’s no need to— stop!” Back to your bickering, a laugh leaving you when he just won’t quit it.

You’re both in a comfortable space when a shrill of a voice cuts you two off.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Time stands still for a second at the sound of Scarlett’s voice. You and your new friends immediately turn to look at her. And your eyes widen. You’re wearing the same skirt. A laugh bubbles out of Sarah and Rafe’s big hand covers her mouth to shut her up

“You know what I’m wearing.” You retort with a roll of your eyes. Heather angrily puts her red solo cup down, stomping closer to you.

“Do you know how embarrassing this is? You need to change!”

Kiara laughs at this. “Girl, get over yourself. It’s a skirt.”

Scarlett is very clearly exasperated. And upset. It’s weird seeing her so put off. Your eyes don’t leave her as she keeps throwing her tantrum. “It doesn’t even look good on you! You’re… you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Rafe is watching with an amused look to his face. He hadn’t seen the fight, only a few clips that were taken last minute. But he’d never seen them go head to head. And you know he’s been dying to. Rafe is many things but dramatically inclined was not one you had added to your list until recently.

You're about to answer. You’re about to fight back. You wouldn’t let her embarrass you in front of your new friends. Loud gasps and yells erupt when a drunk splashes onto Heather. “Dumb bitch!” It’s Sarah. She threw beer right at Heather’s face which is now dripping down to her clothes.

Scarlett, quick on her feet, grabs her own cup and tosses it. On you. You gasp for air as it falls in your nose. “What the fuck, Scar?! I didn’t do shit?!”

“For not fighting your own fucking battles!” She yells, so angry that her face is red. Which you’re sure is from embarrassment as well. “You’re weak! Always have been and always will be!”

Kiara gets in between the two of you, “back the fuck up.” She hisses. “She’s with us now.”

Scarlett laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She looks behind Kiara and glares harshly at you. “Hanging with the pogues? Seriously? This is a new level of trashy. Even for you.”

“Alright, alright,” it’s rafe now that grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You guys are very dramatic.” He tells you as he takes to the other side of the house in the living room.

But you’re frowning. It’s hard not to be upset. And you’re dripping with beer. “My outfit…” you pull your arm from his, stopping. In turn, this stops him and he turns to look down at your sad figure. “It’s ruined…”

He’s quiet. And you’re about to tell him it’s time to call it a night. His hand grabs your chin, making you look up at him. There’s a look of determination on his face, which shocks you greatly. “You’re not giving up. I’m gonna make sure Jonah sees you for the hot piece of ass you are, alright?”

His words send a hot flush through your body. You hate how shy you get when he’s nice. Or when he’s trying to be nice. Even during his kind moments, he’s abrasive. But you’re learning to take him as he is.

“Now, push those boobs up and be confident.”

“Stop saying boobs!”

—

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