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drefear · 8 months

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Sister's Mister

Summary: You and your sister are having issues now that Miguel and her are official. Your friends have some opinions, and things finally get heated.

TW: smut, masturbation, drinking, arguing, family issues, pining.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

The world was painful, too bright for your eyes and your heavy hangover. Everything felt achy and your body was like lead. Soft breathing could be heard from the corner of your room and as you looked up, you saw Gianna sleeping in your little lounge chair. You began to nod out of it again when her eyes opened and she moved to sit on the bed with you. She held your hand and smiled.

“Went too hard last night, right?” She laid her head in your lap and you nodded, barely having the energy to speak. “That’s so unlike you.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” You drawled on, moving the blanket to cover her as well and sleep in the same bed, something you two did often in highschool. Gianna was like having an annoying best friend around 24/7.

Once you woke up again, Gianna was gone and you were alone in the darkness of your room, your sister having pulled your blinds down to help you sleep off the hangover. Getting up, you blinked and grabbed your doorknob, needing a bit of balance before you could keep going. Practically waddling to the kitchen on sea legs, you squinted towards the fridge, seeing someone already in it.

“Dad?”

“Try again.” The voice gave away who it was and you pouted, agitated that he was the first person you had to see when you woke up.

“What are you doing here?”

“Gianna had class, so she asked me to stay and look after you.” Miguel closed the fridge and handed you a cold bottle of water. “She loves you a lot.”

“I love her too.” You answered in a short manner, not wanting to continue to speak to the massive man in your home.

“Why’d you get drunk?” He asked and you sighed, turning towards the exit.

“Because I can.” You spoke as if biting him, harsh and intent on being painful to hear. His face scrunched in a way you could only explain as both confused and angry.

“No one just gets blackout drunk because they can.” He kept pushing, like a child trying to find their parent’s boundaries.

“Why are you asking? I’m not the sister you chose.” You walked away before he could press on, and you hurried towards your bedroom, closing the door and locking it. You held the water bottle to your forehead, needing some relief and silence as tears pooled in your eyes. You missed the buzz that the alcohol gave you from last night, warmth making you feel light as a feather. Now, you just felt like hot water sloshed back and forth in your body. You laid on your bed once more to try and fight the massive, tequila induced headache. Nothing felt right and you couldn’t put your finger on it. You memory was hazy, bits and pieces of things coming back as if they weren’t even from your eyes. The last thing you remembered was a stranger touching your face before you yakked on Miles’s grass-

Miles!

You quickly grabbed your phone to see all the phone calls you’d missed. Gwen texted you three times and called three times, Miles called twice and left five texts, and Pav, who you don’t remember giving your number to, called twice. The line rang as you called back Miles and he answered on the second ring.

“Oh my god, you’re ok!” He spoke and you let out a pent out breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Your sister came in last night like a bat out of hell and was screaming for you, and then I saw that big, mean guy from Alchemax carrying you out and when I tried to ask him what he was doing, he told me to be a criminal with someone else, and I-”

“He said what?” You began to feel a familiar upset grow in your chest as you heard Miles.

“Who gives a shit? I just wanted to make sure he didn’t, like, kidnap you and sell you to El Chapo or something!” You laughed at his dramatic jokes. You loved Miles like a brother, someone who’d been there when you needed him most and vice versa.

“No, I’m fine. That’s my sister’s new boyfriend.” You heard quiet on the other line. “Hello?”

“She’s dating that guy? Miguel, right? Didn’t he fuck around with Mrs. Olsen?” He asked and you twirled a piece of your hair in your fingers.

“Don’t know, don’t care. All I know is he’s got my sister in some fantasy land and I have to listen to the stupid details. ‘Miguel this’ and ‘Miguel that,’ she won’t stop talking about him and-”

“You like him, don’t you?” Miles asked and you practically choked on the sudden gasp of oxygen you took in, coughing a bit. “Sorry, sorry! Just… sounds like you have something else going on when it comes to him. Is this the guy you used to talk about liking in your chem classes?”

You didn’t answer, you didn’t need to. Tears broke through your ducts and dribbled down your cheeks as you realized how you felt.

“Miles, it fucking sucks so badly.” You whispered, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “It’s my sister’s boyfriend, ya know? How am I supposed to act?” You asked desperately, needing him input.

“You don’t. You gotta forget it, he’s off limits now. Plus, if he’s as terrible as he seems, you don’t want him in your life anyway.” Miles went on and you knew it was true, but a knock at your door made you almost nervous. “Miles, I gotta go. I’ll text you later.”

“Yeah, come over later and we can go in the pool. You can clean up all the throw up you left outside.” He laughed as you practically shrank into your blankets, embarrassment turning your cheeks pink. Hanging up, you got up and went to your door to see Miguel standing too tall in the doorframe.

“Why don’t you know how to act in front of me?” Miguel asked, and your heart stopped. He heard you.

“That was a private conversation. Now, you can tell my sister I’m fine and get the fuck out of my house.” You slammed the door in his face once you were done speaking to him, waiting to make sure he left. After a long few seconds, you heard his hefty footsteps retreat and the front door close. Today was too much.

You left for Miles’s house later that afternoon, getting there to see your sister’s car outside. Great. You slightly dreaded how intertwined your friend group was getting, all because of Miguel. Another reason to absolutely despise him. You wished you could.

You had on your purple swimsuit, something unique and new that you were excited to wear. Miles had said that he was inviting a few extra friends, and you were hoping one of them was cute, so you had pulled this one out to don in case your hopes came true. Now you had even more reason to push out your chest and be cute, to prove to Miguel that the conversation he heard was actually nothing. He was your sister’s boyfriend, just your sister’s boyfriend. Not the man you pine for in the dark of your room at night, not the name you have to bite your lip not to moan while your fingers circled your clit.

Walking through his gate to his backyard, you waved at Gwen and MIles, then Hobie and Pav, and Peter. There were a few other faces you didn’t recognize and then there was Miguel and your sister, making out in the pool and looking like the beginning of an amateur porn video. You cringed as you turned away from them, trying not to gawk at their gross display of affection, but you couldn’t blame her. If you were in Gianna’s position, you’d fuck him everywhere you went just to show other women that he was yours and yours alone.

You shook that thought from your head and tried to listen to what Gwen was saying.

An hour later, Gwen introduced you to someone named Ben. he was tall, built nice, and seemed to be quite cocky, but you just needed a distraction. The two of you flirted back and forth on the pool ledge as you moved a hand to your waist, pulling you into the water and playfully splashing you. Continuing to soak each other, you felt a presence behind you and suddenly, you were thrown across the pool. Sputtering up to the surface, you looked around and found Miguel smirking, arms folded with a confident roll of his shoulders.

“What the fuck, Miguel?” You yelled and he just laughed.

“I wanted to play.”

“You weren’t invited!” You barked and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic, I just wanted that constant screaming to end. It was annoying.”

“Then maybe use your words, you barbarian.”

“Oh, ouch! So hurtful, did you learn that word in the library you lock yourself inside of every night?”

“Are you really making fun of me for being smart?” You didn't realize you were walking closer to him until you were a foot away, and he finally stepped closer to look down at you, making you crane your neck up as he spoke.

“No, I’m saying you’re a loser.” He narrowed his eyes and you couldn’t find the words to answer, hurt pooling in your stomach. You didn’t even realize everyone had started to watch you two arguing until you both stood in silence and felt everyone else’s eyes on you.

“I’d rather be a loser than a whorish prick.” You spoke with sharp words and checked his shoulder as you walked past him, flipping your now soaking wet and messy hair out of your face and stomping to your towel. Your sister moved to grab your arm, but you jerked away from her.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You screamed and saw hurt flash across her face, but you couldn’t see through the seething rage that MIguel had begun to boil inside of you. “You did this, you brought him into my life. As long as you two are together, stay away from me!” You hurried inside of the house and into the bathroom, hearing someone follow you and slamming the door in their face. You sat on the edge of the bathtub and cried. All of the frustration and upset from the past few weeks poured out as you shivered from the AC blowing directly on your wet form, overwhelmed and afraid.

Meanwhile, the pool area was quiet as Gianna was frozen in place, then looking at Miguel. She got an angry look on her face as he got out of the pool, starting to feel bad. Had he caused a rift between you two? He held his hands up, “Baby, I’m sorry-”

“Fix this! Now!” Gianna pointed inside and he nodded, just following orders.

The truth was he didn’t know why you bothered him so much, you just did. Everything about you caused him to be annoyed, and caused a stir in his pants.

He liked your sister, she was pretty and funny and nice. She was easy. He didn’t mind, he wasn’t used to having a girlfriend either. He didn’t like the feeling that much, it seemed too much of a hassle.

A few months ago, he’d seen you in his class wearing just a t-shirt and jean shorts, but your soft thighs made his mind go to new places. He’d always chased his own pleasure, not caring much for making the girl’s he bedded orgasm. They always did, but that wasn’t his goal. He just needed to ‘get his and get gone,’ as Ben once said to him.

Then he saw you, and his first thought was how those thighs would feel on his shoulders, how you’d taste on his tongue with your hands in his hair as you screamed his name. He kept oral sex for relationships, but god he wanted to eat you out so badly, it was driving him mad.

And then he saw your tits in that low cut top you wore when it started to get warm out, and he lost it.

He always thought about you as he fucked other girls, railing them from behind and tilting his head back to pretend he was inside of you. He didn’t even know your first name, which was fine by him, and he had planned to keep this going until he met your sister, Gianna. She looked similar to you and that made him satisfied.

And then he found out she was your sister, and he became hungrier. Being in your house, seeing your family, knew he’d fucked up when he saw you at the club. You were dancing with Hobie and he was feeling up Gianna, but he couldn’t stop sneaking looks at you. The way you swayed your hips, how you held Hobie, how the dress was tight around your chest. He was ging insane and that’s when your sister brought him over to introduce you two. He heard your name and it was like butter on his tongue, smooth and rich. He was hungry for you and the small tastes weren’t enough anymore.

Dinner at your house was practically painful. He was trying so hard to drown you out of his mind with your sister, wanting nothing more than to have her be what flooded his brain instead. Her hand on his thigh was the only reason he even remembered she was in the room while he watched you eat.

Arguing with you about Miles fucking Morales got him almost rock hard in his pants, watching you bitch at him, showing him something he’d never seen from you: anger. He saw you shy and awkward, saw you focused in class, but now he saw you spitting words of upset at him and the passion that filled your eyes as you sneered. God, you were like a drug.

You laid passed out on the grass of Miles’s backyard and he just watched your form for a minute, the rise and fall of your busty chest in that tight top you had on, you were mesmerizing. He made his way to you and bent down.

“Get up.”

“Lay down with me.” Those words went straight to his cock, wanting to hear them come out of your mouth in a much different scenario. “Look at the sky.”

“Your eyes are closed.” He answered, and you hypnotized him with that sweet little laugh.

“The stars are beautiful.” He couldn't help it, his body moved on its own. He nuzzled your face in his hand, your soft skin feeling like heaven against the callus of his fingers.

“So are you.” He whispered and sadness filled his chest. He’d made the mistake of entertaining your sister, and now he could never have you. You began tossing up your dinner and your sister came just in time as he waited until you were done, then moving your passed out form into his arms and carrying you out of the house. As he stepped to his car, your sister got into the backseat to hold onto you, but he heard someone shouting.

“Hey!” It was that Miles kid he couldn’t stand.

“What?” He asked, moving his arms to tilt your head upward instead of leaned over his arm.

“She’s not ok, you can’t take her-”

Miguel was about to bark back, to protect you with every fiber of your being against this stupid law-breaking twerp, but your sister jumped in and started talking to Miles, in which he calmed down. A frown just sat on Miguel’s face, bending to lay you in the car and not saying another word.

The next day, your sister had left Miguel at the house with you to make sure you were ok while she was gone. Well, he actually volunteered. Which wasn’t weird at all.

And then there was the phone call her overheard.

“Miles, it fucking sucks so badly.” You whispered, making Miguel’s heart want to do jumping jacks. “It’s my sister’s boyfriend, ya know? How am I supposed to act?”

This made him almost happy, but conflict began in his head. This was so wrong, so so wrong.

But then there was the pool, and that gorgeous little bikini you had on, and how you acted with Ben. Fucking Ben. First Miles, then Ben? Were you trying to pick the worst possible choices in men?

He meant to be playful, just to see that angry spark in your eyes again, but then you both started saying things that couldn’t be taken back.

“No, I’m saying you’re a loser.” The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them and suddenly, the world was quiet. Everyone stared at you two and you frantically glanced around with humiliation, but he only watched you.

“I’d rather be a loser than a whorish prick.” You spat back at him and he stood still, unsure of how to go about everything that had just happened, unsure of how to fix things.

You and Gianna had harsh words as you ran into Miles’s house crying, and Miguel felt everyone glaring at him, but he couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else. Gianna yelled at Miguel and that’s when he followed you, seeing you run into the bathroom and shut the door. He heard a small thud and knew you were leaning against it, knocking gently.

“Leave me alone, Gianna.” You sniffled and Miguel sighed.

“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry-” He started to apologize and the door flew open, your crying face scrunched up at him with a fury he honestly hadn’t seen in anyone but himself.

“You’re sorry?” Your tone mocked him and he clenched his jaw, nodding. “What are you sorry for? Calling me a loser? Embarrassing me in front of my friends and family? Driving me insane in my own home? Which one?”

“I didn’t-” He huffed. Miguel wasn’t good with talking about his emotions, and as he heard the laughter from the backyard, he pushed you forward into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“I’m sorry for it all, but it’s your fault too!”

“What?!” You whisper-yelled and he rolled his eyes, leaning on his shoulder against the wall.

“Oh, c'mon. You know you’ve been driving me crazy.” He sneered and you glared up at him.

“I have not-” You stopped short and thought about his words. “How?” You tilted your head to the side.

“You’re just- you’re so fucking- perfect!” He shouted and put a hand on the wall above your head, bending down to get closer to your face. His eyes burned into yours as he studied your expression. “You’re all I think about.”

“This is wrong…” You breathed out and felt his breath tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering a bit and nose almost touching his.

“Stop me then.” He whispered and you bit your lip, a constricting feeling in your chest tying itself around your lungs and making you shiver. “Tell me you don’t want this.” He moved his hands to knead the squish of your hips, water dripping down your legs from the still wet bathing suit on your body.

“Miguel…” Your voice was shaky as he inhaled your scent, moved the tangled mess of damp hair from your shoulder. Loud knocking made you both jump a bit, his hands pulling you closer as his head snapped to the door. He grabbed the doorknob to make sure whoever it was didn’t try to open it, or succeed. Your name rang out in your sister’s voice and your legs wobbled.

You were in here, being felt up by her boyfriend right after you’d screamed in her face, and she was looking to comfort you still.

Tears filled your eyes again and the door knob jiggled, Miguel’s hand making sure it didn’t open. Your heart thudded in your chest when she repeated your name, and you tried to clear your throat.

“G-Go away!” You shouted, trying to still sound upset. Miguel’s other hand stayed on your hip, as if he couldn’t take it off of his own free will.

“Please, can we just talk? Let me in.” She begged and you broke into tears finally.

“I said go the hell away!” You screamed, leaning your head into Miguel’s chest and trembling against his large body as he finally let go of your hip and pet your head.

“I love you, I’m gonna go look for Miguel, ok?” She spoke softly and that made your body heat rise once more.

“Miguel? You’re going to look for Miguel? Yeah, go fucking chase your boyfriend, go find him, Gianna!” You shouted, Miguel now holding you back with his one arm, pulling you closer to his body to try and calm you down, but you pushed him away and fully faced the door now. “Go fucking find him and tell him that you forgive him and then fuck him and text me about it after! Go, Gianna!” You hit the door with a fist, angry sobs on your lips as everything was quiet. After a second or two, you heard her footsteps walking away from the door. You panted and hung your head.

“Are you ok?” Miguel’s low voice rubbed your ears in a way that you couldn’t explain. You just shook your head and he released the knob, then cradling you in his arms and holding you tight. “I’ll fix this, I promise.” He whispered, then opened the door and walked out.

Tags: @ihateuguys @spontaneousleo @ginger23 @y2cade @alex110370000 @winteringfalls @neverlandlostchild @haileycannotcometothephonern @loser-alert @idk-sam @bunnyrose01 @minalovesyoubabes @thedevax @arquiiva @freehentai @vonev @rue-ting @darkfairy102190 @iamv1n @teresalesbian @killykstudio @topreice @artyanimi @hrlzy @mikotoguilty @ceoofmiguel @amylasagna

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #angst #atsv miguel #slowburn romance #slow burn #mutual pining #smut

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jackbeloved · 1 year

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Actual food and it’s even on a PLATE wow!

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stop-talking · 25 days

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So I'm stuck on this shithole Island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 7)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.6k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, HEAVY angst, fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, masturbating!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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Derek wakes up long before you do the next morning.

Except, not really. Is it really "waking up" if he never fell asleep in the first place?

He'd insisted on going to bed early, skipping dinner. For once, you hadn't pushed him to reconsider, and he wasn't sure whether to be angry about that or not.

He has plenty of other things to be angry about, anyway.

Derek flings himself onto the couch in a huff, fumbling for the T.V remote. Maybe he could drown out his thoughts with some bullshit movie.

It doesn't really work. His mind keeps wandering back to you. How could you dismiss his feelings so easily? Sure, maybe it's too early to drop to his knees and make a declaration of love... but he's sure there's something between the two of you.

Seriously. You'd given him not one, but TWO kisses yesterday. If you don't like him, you're just being cruel.

Around midmorning, you stumble downstairs, and Derek purposefully ignores your greeting. He doesn't have any especially nice words for you at the moment.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?" You call out, heading through a doorway and into the adjacent kitchen.

"M'not hungry." He grumbles back, determined to show his displeasure.

There's no response, so he just sighs and curls up on the couch, tucking his face into the cushions and hiding away. He can still feel a bit of lingering embarrassment from yesterday's rejection.

Well, sort-of rejection. Secretly, he was still holding onto some level of hope that you like him. Technically you never told him how YOU feel. You just brushed him off and ran away.

Coward.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Sit up. I'm not letting you skip two meals in a row." You gently shake Derek's shoulder and place a plate of food on the coffee table. A simple breakfast, toast and some fruit. Hardly a good offering considering he made you pancakes yesterday, but damnit, you weren't sure he was going to eat at all.

Derek rolls over and stares blankly at the meager breakfast, mumbling some kind of thanks. He doesn't make any effort to sit up and offer you room on the couch... so you make due and perch on the armrest, near his head.

"So... what do you wanna do today?" You ask, trying to remain casual after yesterday's uncomfortable conversation.

Actually, "uncomfortable" might be an understatement. Damn him. Couldn't he see that anything romantic between the two of you is ABSOLUTELY out of the question?

Even ignoring the whole son-of-your-boss thing, (which is disgustingly cliché), he's still a fucking Danforth. Son of the goddamn president. And a billionaire, to boot.

Okay, those qualities were probably attractive to some people. Or most people. But not you.

You look down at the man who is pointedly ignoring your question and poking at his food. No, his wealth and influence were not his best qualities. You much preferred his dorky charm. Hell, even his bratty side could be cute. Sometimes.

"It's toast, Derek. Not poison." You scoff and take a bite of your own food just to prove a point.

He glares at you for a moment, and you finally get a good look at him. Are those... eye bags? Suddenly, you feel guilty for not offering to let him sleep in your bed again. Maybe he really does need it.

Eventually, he grumbles something under his breath and grabs for his plate, beginning to nibble a piece of fruit.

Damn. He's so cold this morning. Usually you'd be sitting properly on the couch with him, his head in your lap, and your hand in his hair... not just precariously balanced on the stupid armrest.

Is he really that upset about last night? You'd tried to let him down as gently as possible. And there was no way he was serious about you, anyway. He's the kind of rich asshole who could snap a finger and have the perfect trophy wife delivered to his door in a heartbeat.

You have to be honest with yourself here, and the truth is that Derek Danforth would drop you as soon as you two got back home. Better to save yourself the heartbreak.

"If I have to watch T.V all day I think I'll die of boredom." Derek breaks your contemplative silence after a few minutes, whining and dramatically draping an arm over his eyes.

Ah, right. Gotta keep the brat entertained so he stays out of trouble.

"I'll see what I have for us to do." You respond calmly, hopping down from the armrest and heading upstairs.

Damnit. You need to diffuse the situation, fast. Everything feels so tense between the two of you, like he's pulling back into his shell. Normally you'd suggest going down to the beach again, but considering he nearly drowned yesterday? That's off the table.

After poking around in your closet for a few minutes, you return with an armload of various boxes. A few board games, a pack of cards, puzzles, books, and even some paper and colored pencils. Hey, with no internet, you'd have to make due.

"Any of this look interesting?" You huff, dumping it all on the coffee table.

Derek sits up and raises an eyebrow at the pile of less-than-adequate activities. "What is this, a summer camp? Do I look five?"

"Hey, you're the one that called me a glorified babysitter."

He just rolls his eyes in return, standing up and muttering something about a headache.

"Where are you going?" You ask, watching him trudge upstairs.

"To rest."

You're left alone on the living room floor, watching him disappear as a couple of the various precariously-stacked boxes tip off the coffee table and spill their contents across the rug.

This is not going well.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek lies back on the mound of pillows piled against his headboard, a sleepy haze clouding his mind as he tries to stay awake.

He rubs his eyes, blinking at the flat screen TV mounted to the wall opposite him. The bright flashing colors are probably the only thing keeping him awake right now.

Just as he's about to drift off, a knock at the door pulls him back into reality.

"Derek? I brought you some Tylenol."

Before he can tell you to go away, you throw the door open and waltz in. Apparently, you've forgotten what happened the first time you did that.

"Here, take this. And something to wash it down with."

He sighs and accepts the medicine swallowing the little pill and downing half the glass of water before setting it aside.

"Oh, so watching TV wasn't the issue, you just didn't want to watch it with me, huh?" You ask, taking a seat at the foot of his bed and turning your attention to the television.

He can tell you're just being playful, but the question still makes him squirm slightly. Damnit. He's torn between wanting to joke back, and wanting to chew you out for acting so normal. You made his whole world fall apart last night, and now you're going to sit on his bed and crack jokes?

"You're blocking the screen." Derek grumbles, trying to show his annoyance.

Unfortunately, you take that to mean "crawl further into my bed", and end up taking a seat next to him, with your back to the headboard.

He begrudgingly allows it, silently watching as the stupid movie he picked out plays. At least you're not touching him.

...

Fuck. Not even a minute passes before you lace your fingers into his hair, a gesture he'd usually appreciate. Now? It just serves as a reminder that you aren't his.

He finally loses it when you tug on his hair in that oh-so-familiar way that makes him whine involuntarily.

"Can you stop?"

"Stop what?" You blink down at him with a blank expression, clearly confused. God, can't you see what you're doing to him? How is he supposed to just sit back and let you touch him like this after being rejected?

"Acting like everything can just go back to normal."

"Can't it?"

"No."

You take in a sharp breath, but before you can respond Derek pushes your hand away and sits up. He isn't done with last night's conversation, and he's not letting you worm your way out of his questions this time around.

"If you don't like me, that's fine. But stop fucking pretending like you do."

That statement seems to hit you hard, because you wince at his words and harsh tone.

Derek doesn't care, continuing his rant. "Always touching me... playing with my hair, hugging me, kissing me, hell... we fucking slept together..."

"Don't say it like that, please." You visibly grimace, slinking back against the bed.

That just agitates him further.

"Yeah, well, even if we didn't fuck it was still EXTREMELY intimate."

"YOU'RE the one who begged to sleep in my bed."

"Yeah, after you KISSED me!"

"On the cheek!"

Derek is just fuming. He wants to argue back, but the truth is, he's not even sure you're wrong.

Yes, the two of you have gotten... closer, over the past week or so. But is he reading too far into things? Are you really just... this nice?

Fuck. He has no idea. Maybe he's not special. Maybe you treat everyone this way. Or everyone you're close with, at least.

He slumps down face first into his pillows, having completely lost the will to argue. Something tugs at his chest, but it's not the same pain he felt last night.

He just feels... defeated.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You stare down at Derek, and you can't help but feel bad for the man, even if he's sort of pissing you off as well.

Yeah, you've been getting closer with him... so what? He's not some innocent bystander in all this. He literally BEGS to be touched, whether he realizes it or not.

Like right now. God, you can't just leave him like that. If he starts crying again, you'll probably cry with him.

"C'mere, love. Can I hold you?"

It's probably best to ask permission before grabbing for him, just in case he tries to use this as further evidence you're leading him on. You don't exactly give him a chance to say no, though, tugging him up towards you.

He resists slightly at first, but gives in completely when he looks up into your eyes.

You pull him tightly against your chest, his cheek pressed just above your heart. If you weren't wearing the simple cotton t-shirt, you could probably feel his stubble.

One of your hands finds its way into his hair, lacing your fingers in his soft curls. The other rubs soothing circles into his back, pulling him as close as possible.

His arms wrap around your waist in return, and he shifts to lie between your legs, melting into your embrace.

You lean back against the headboard and just hold him for a while, doing your best to comfort him. He can act angry and standoffish all he wants, but you know deep down he still craves your touch.

"This sucks."

"I'm trying my best here, Derek. I'd like to think I'm a pretty good hugger..."

"Not you. Well... not ALL you. This whole things sucks. Being stuck here, I mean."

Derek sighs and tilts his head up to look at you, his chin resting right between your breasts as he slumps lower.

"Well, you only have..." You pause briefly to do the math. "...11 days left?"

"I was only SUPPOSED to be here for two," he grumbles.

"I know... just, your mother thought-"

"My MOTHER is part of the fucking problem." His face turns sour and he squeezes you a little tighter as he rants.

"I thought- FINALLY - she was going to make time for me. Of fucking course not. She just wanted to get rid of me for three weeks."

Ah, great. So drug issues AND mommy issues. This man really has it all, huh?

"It's not exactly a good look for president to have a druggie as a son." You say the words in a lightly teasing tone, but he seems to take them as accusing.

"I didn't ASK her to be the fucking president, okay? And regardless, she never would have made it this far in her political career if it weren't for me. Before I stepped in, she was behind in 15 of 20 counties she needed to win."

You just watch helplessly as he rants, biting your lip as to not say anything that could provoke him further.

"15 of 20!" He repeats, scoffing. "I fund her entire fucking campaign... and how does she repay me? By shipping me off to some shithole island."

It's wrong, but... you can't help but wistfully smile at his little comments.

"You know, Danforth... most people don't have the luxury of an all-expenses-paid vacation on a private island while they're getting through an addiction... they just continue working their shitty dead-end jobs."

"Spare me, please. When has the 'It could be worse' sentiment ever helped anyone, EVER?" He responds sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Honestly? He has a point. Even if he's still relatively spoiled when compared to the general public... well, this is probably the toughest thing he's ever gone through in his sheltered life. And it IS your job to help him though it.

You tug at his hair a little more in an attempt to soothe him, which just makes him wine. He tries to cover it up by burying his face into you, but accidentally ends up with a faceful of titty.

He seems to immediately realize his mistake, because he mumbles a lame-ass apology and starts to pull away from you.

You pull him right back against you, probably a little too eagerly.

"I don't mind."

It's a struggle to get the words out without sounding giddy. You absolutely love having him there, so close to your heart.

Your chest swells with warmth as he looks up at you through his eyelashes, the lower half of his face sinking between your breasts.

“This is cruel.” He grumbles and looks down, burying his face in your chest.

“What? Letting you shove your face in my tits is cruel?”

“When I know you're just going to write it off as platonic behavior later, yes.”

Ouch. Okay, he had a point with that one, too. Damnit. Can he really blame you, though? Getting involved with Derek Danforth of all people… can’t he see just how MESSY that could be for you?

But looking down at him, it’s really hard to see him as your boss’s son, or the president's son, or a billionaire, or whatever-the-fuck else. He just looks… needy.

You continue to stroke his hair and rub his back simultaneously, and a few whimpers escape him as he nestles his face between your breasts.

It’s honestly shocking just how natural the whole thing feels. God, if only you were bare-chested…

"Okay, maybe this isn't a purely platonic relationship." You slump back against the headboard as you admit this, groaning internally.

This piques his interest, but you don't give him the chance to look up at you, shoving his face back down into your chest. Looking him in the eyes is just too much right now.

Hell, all of this is too much. Derek seems to share the sentiment, because he lets out a low groan. Or was that a moan?

"You're killing me." He whines, shifting his hips almost imperceptibly and slowly grinding them against the mattress.

"Oh? What's wrong, love?" You hum in response, tugging at his hair with one hand and tracing your nails across his back with the other. Like you even need to ask. It's obvious how he's feeling. Horny bastard.

He groans in response, tipping his head back to stare up at you. Fuck. Those eyes. He looks completely lovesick. Or lust-sick, maybe? He's still not-so-subtly grinding against the bed.

"You're so fucking pretty. It's not fair." You cup his face in your hands, lifting him from your chest slightly to better examine his face. His dark eyelashes flutter as he blinks up at you, a look of pure disbelief on his face.

Yeah. Pretty. You can't think of any other word to describe him in this moment. His cheeks, lightly dusted with freckles, turn pinker by the second as you lean in for a kiss. Then another kiss. And another.

He squirms in your grasp as you pepper soft kisses from one side of his face to the other, following the pattern of his freckles. His eyes flutter shut and he squeezes you tighter, eager to feel your touch.

You pull back to look at him again, still cradling his face in your hands. This is so wrong. You shouldn't be kissing him like this. You shouldn't be kissing him at all, actually. What happened to stomping out your feelings and hoping for the best? Protecting yourself from the man who would just inevitably break your heart?

"You're prettier." He mumbles, eyes half-lidded and hazy as he stares up at you with blissful admiration.

Those words penetrate straight to your core. Damnit... as much as you hate to admit it, this man is no heartbreaker.

"Oh, love..." You pull him back against your chest as you trail off, the words getting lost on their way from your heart to your lips.

He whines again as you absentmindedly tug at his curls, something that's become nearly as comforting for you as it is for him.

"Please... I'm... mnnghh..." He mumbles, the words coming out muffled as he nuzzles further into your chest.

You're not even completely sure what he's asking for, but damn, hearing him beg is addictive.

"What do you want, love?" You coo at him, voice soft and low as you hold him tightly against your chest.

He just pants in response, occasionally letting a whimper slip free as you continue to play with his hair. His breathing gets more and more shallow as he continues to shamelessly jut his hips into the mattress.

For the hundredth time, you remind yourself just how wrong this is. Those thoughts are immediately drowned out by his soft noises of pleasure, and you can't help but wonder just how much he can even feel through those sweatpants, anyways. Maybe if you took them off for him...?

No. Fuck. That's too far. Right now, you're not doing anything wrong. How could you be? You aren't even touching him. Well... not touching him there.

"Please." He repeats, crying the word out a little louder this time.

Guilt and lust battle in your stomach, and you can tell which has won when you clench around nothing. God, something about him begging is just so... ugh.

"What? You wanna cum?"

Derek lets out a high pitched whine, nodding into your chest.

"Can you wait for me?" You whisper the words, barely audible as one of your hands makes it's way down to the waistband of your shorts.

Another nod. More panting. The bed starts to shake slightly with the intensity of his grinding, and your brain goes fuzzy as thoughts of him overwhelm your senses.

Your had dips into your shorts, and you begin to play with yourself as Derek does the same. Well, something similar enough.

"Faster." The word comes out as a moan, and you aren't sure if you're talking to Derek or yourself.

He takes the order seriously, jutting his hips into the bed more rapidly.

Fuck. The noises he's making are almost pathetic, and somehow it's the hottest thing you've ever heard. Soon your own moans join his, creating a lustful symphony as you both lose yourselves in the other's touch.

All thoughts of this being inappropriate are long gone. All thoughts in general are long gone. You see, taste, smell, hear, feel, and breathe Derek Danforth.

He must feel the same way, because he starts to mumble your name over and over, his hips stuttering as he grips you tighter, like he's afraid you'll slip away.

"I'm here, love." You coo at him, planting a quick kiss on the top of his head.

"Cum for me. Can you do that for me, pretty boy? Hm?"

Apparently he can, because he gasps, and with a few more thrusts... he's reduced to a sweaty, writhing mess in your lap.

You aren't much better off, finishing immediately after him. Shit... are your legs trembling? Is that normal? Fucking Danforth.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek finally pries himself from your chest, staring up into your eyes and breathing heavily from the exertion.

Two days in a row... that's got to be a personal record. He shudders at the uncomfortable, yet familiar, feeling of hot cum in his sweatpants.

"S-sorry... Did you...?" He stumbles over his own words, face flushing as you stare down at him. This is so fucking embarrassing. He shouldn't let himself get so damn desperate.

"Yeah... I did." You respond, blinking at him with a dazed expression.

Derek knows that feeling. He's half convinced this is all some kind of sick hallucination induced by his severe sleep depravity.

His worries are washed away as you lean down and plant another kiss on his forehead. He wants nothing more than to stay here with you, but fuck... the mess.

"I'm gonna go clean up." He mumbles, pulling away from you and discreetly covering the wet spot on his sweats... like you don't already know what happened.

"Please, just... stay." Derek looks back at you one last time before disappearing into his bathroom, and all he can do is pray you'll still be there when he returns.

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Author's note: Okay this took WAY too long and I have no excuse I'm sorry. I hope it was worth the wait! It's currently 3am, stayed up all night writing this because I'll be out of town then next few days. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out in a reasonable amount of time... but I do plan to write a one-off smut piece first, so... who knows. I'll try.

Also I REALLY want to write about Derek teaching the reader to play poker but I do not know how to play poker. Someone help. Can two people play poker together? Or does one have to be the dealer? How does that work? DM me or send an ask or a comment or something I need help!!!

LOVE Y'ALL thanks so much for being patient <3

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #derek danforth #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #the beekeeper #josh hutcherson x you #derek danforth x you #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #derek danforth smut #no use of y/n #x reader fic #x fem reader #angst fic #slowburn fic #slowburn romance

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mybelovedwoo · 1 year

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i'm glad i have you with me

bff!san x f!reader

fluff, comfort, childhood best friends to lovers (slow burn) / wc:1.3k

warnings: cheating, crying, swear words, cuddling

note: so tell me how you liked this one. i am a bit nervous because this is my first non-wooyoung fic, but i really enjoyed writing it. please stay tuned in the future for other members' fics too. if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

san masterlist - main masterlist

Sitting on a couch at a house party all alone with people you don't know, there's literally any other place you would rather be. Originally you came with you're boyfriend Seungjun, but you haven't seen him in hours. You weren't much of a party person, but this time you accompanied him, because he begged you for days for it, but now you are starting to regret it honestly.

You take out your phone from your back pocket, but before you open it, you look around once more to see if your boyfriend pops up somewhere, you are out of luck, so after you unlocked it, the first thing you open is your messages. Your fingers linger over Seungjun's name, but it says he's been unavailable for hours, no shit Sherlock, you think. Instead, you scroll down a bit and open the messages for your best friend, San.

You know well that he probably not gonna answer, because it's Saturday night, and he is most definitely out with his friends too. You don't care, you try it anyway, he is your best chance to rescue you out of this hell. "Hey, San." is the first you send, you're not sure what to write him, you don't want to bother him. "What are you doing?" you wait a few minutes, but he's not responding, his phone is probably on mute. "I'm kinda bored, I don't know where Seungjun went. I need your rescue ㅠㅠ." Nothing, no response. You feel really annoyed at this point, but not because San, poor boy did nothing wrong, it is just a bad moment. "You know what I'm gonna look for Seungjun. Don't worry and have fun." You lock your phone and put it back in your back pocket.

You look around the kitchen, then in the yard, but you don't see him anywhere. You are getting kinda worried that maybe he left you there. At last, you walk up the stairs, the hallway is full of kissing couples, who must have only met tonight. The moment you enter one of the rooms, you regret everything you did until now. Your boyfriend was there with another girl you had never seen before, doing things you never expected him to do with anyone except for you.

You didn't know what to do in the big shock, but you didn't speak up, maybe they didn't even notice you or just didn't care. But you turned around and hurried down the stairs, unable to control your tears. You just needed some fresh air, you had to get out of this place immediately. You crashed out of the entrance of the house and fell down to the stairs. Sitting there you didn't even think, you were already calling San. This is urgent now.

Your phone didn't even ring for two seconds when they already answered it. "Hey Y/N, is everything okay? I'm sorry my phone was on mute I haven't seen your texts. Have you found Seungjun? Wait, are you crying?" You couldn't even speak, though you wanted to tell him everything. "Y/N please say something! What happened? Are you hurt?" You took three big breaths to calm yourself down enough to talk a few words. "He cheated on me. Could you come to pick me up?" You didn't have to say more. "I've already sat in the car the minute I saw your messages, don't worry. I'll be there soon."

He wasn't lying, he got there in record time. You watched as he pulled up with his car to the driveway of the house. When he gets out of the car, is only when you get up from the stairs you've been sitting on. San rushed towards you at a high speed, so you didn't have time to move even an inch in his way.

"Where is that dickhead?" He asked with blunt words when he got to you. He seemed really angry, maybe even angrier than you, you had never in your life seen him like this before. You shrugged, implying that you don't know and don't care either. But that was not enough for him. "Is he still inside there?" You started to get a little worried.

"I think so. But please don't make a scene, let's just go home." You pulled him through his forearm when he already started walking to the entrance. "Wait for me in the car, okay? I'll be quick, I'm not gonna do anything he doesn't deserve, I swear." He said to you, while he stroked your face with his right hand. You hesitated, but who are you to tell him what to do, so you went up to his car and sat on the passenger side for like five minutes.

At this point you didn't care much about waiting a little longer, that's what you did all night long. San slammed the door behind himself, and somehow he looked even angrier than before. He got in the car next to you and when he looked at you his expression softened. "What did you do?" You asked him with a sobby voice. "I just showed him where he belonged. Let's just say he went swimming." You look down at his hands and you see it's all bruised up.

He started the engine. "San, I don't wanna go home. What if he comes there?" You didn't know what to do, since he had a key to your apartment. You couldn't bare to see his face once more.

"We're going to my place." He didn't even hesitate. You slept at his place many times now, but not since you started dating Seungjun. San was worried when you found out you are going to different colleges, he was afraid that you wouldn't spend as much time together as you used to. But you thought that was nonsense since you have been best friends since you were very little, you grew up together.

He never liked Seungjun, he always said he didn't deserve you. But he was your first boyfriend, and you were blinded with love, at least that's what you thought. Looking back, you also know that he didn't treat you well, but you don't know that when you're in it.

Entering San's apartment, all you could think about was that you needed to get some sleep asap. Weariness hit you the moment you got hit by the heat of the comfortable room. You didn't want to bother San with your presence, you don't know what plans he had.

You've been quite comfortable in here, so you decided to lie down on the couch in the living room. "What are you doing?" Asked San, entering the room with a glass of water in his hand.

"Sleeping. I'm really tired." You mumbled, not able to speak properly.

"You can't sleep here. Go to my room, there is my bed. I'll sleep on the couch." You sat up at his statement. "No, you can't. This is your place." There's no way you letting him sleep out here in the cold living room when he has his own warm bed just a room away. "Let's sleep both in the bed. I think it's big enough for the both of us." You said. It's not like this is the first time you sleep in the same bed, you always fell asleep next to each other when you were little.

"Are you sure?" He hesitated. "We are not so small anymore." The joke made you both laugh, it made his heart clench to see you happy again.

After you took a warm shower, he gave you a big shirt of his and a jogger pant that was definitely too big for you. You got under the cover, San was already there, lying down. He turned off the lamp on the bedside table, which illuminated the whole room until now.

As soon as it got dark your eyes started watering again, you remember everything that happened today. All of a sudden, you feel a pair of hands slip on your waist. San hugged you tightly from behind. "I got you." He whispered in your ears. He didn't let go of you all night long, you woke up in the same position the next morning.

#san #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagine #choi san #san x reader #ateez san #ateez san fluff #childhood best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #slowburn romance #san x you #san comfort #bff san #san imagine #ateez fanfic

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kaspavanlortsyal · 1 year

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Art by @quaritchsgirl

I'm sharing this in its own post because it's just that beautiful. Thank you so much V!

Miles Quaritch & Petra Hart from Let It Be Enough on Ao3.

#Commission #Miles Quaritch #Quaritch #Recom Quaritch #Colonel Quaritch #Petra Hart #Avatar OC #Avatar Fanfic #Quaritch Fanfic #Quaritch x OC #Ao3 #Fanfic #Enemies to Lovers #Slowburn Romance #Fanart #Quaritch Art #kaspavanlortsyal #Quaritch Fanfiction

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saenda · 7 months

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It's Monday! Meaning it's update time for my comic :D There's a bit more pages now, and we're almost halfway through the first chapter, if you wanted to wait for a bit more of them~!

On tapas :

On Webtoon :

Don't forget to suscribe if you like it! It would help me out a lot :D

#girl love #GL #lgbtqia #webcomic #comic #original comic #original characters #OCs #fantasy #slowburn romance #my art

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jestercrown · 1 year

Photo

Playing with lighting

Finding reflective light

Even in the darkest rooms

Amara stands in a corridor

Who is taking her out tonight?

#digitalart #digital art noob #headmates #plural #webcomic #slowburn romance #winnowingofamaranth #WOA

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tabbyrocks · 8 months

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fun fact about me is that i love friends to lovers or even rivals / enemies to friends to lovers slowburn. i love slowburn so so so much.

and not that shitty slowburn that's just full of misunderstandings or things that could be easily fixed by communication, i mean ACTUAL GOOD SLOWBURN.

slowburn thats full of doubt like "they probably don't like me back" or "I don't want this to ruin our friendship" or "us being together would look bad on my image".

or oblivious slowburn where one character is oblivious to the others feelings or they are both oblivious to their own feelings but eventually find out. bonus if they find out at different times to make it more confusing.

slowburns with unrequited love that's actually requited or unrequited love that becomes requited with time.

slowburns that last months or even years.

slowburns that are full of glances, small touches like their hands grazing, where the lines of platonic and romantic start to blur or cross with some of the things they do.

slowburns with so much pining and longing it makes your head explode.

slowburns where even other characters are like "okay so when is the wedding"

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bramblesramblesintoshambles · 9 months

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I think one of the things I struggled with most writing my book was the romance. In a lot of stories they can feel tacked on and unnecessary, which isn't always bad. Sometimes, love happens in the background of our lives unrelated the challenges we might be facing. I think Good Omens is a solid example of this. Crowley and Aziraphale love one another, it isn't necessary for the plot though. At least for the book and season one. They only need to love humanity and the world for that.

In the same way, when writing how Ariel and Sam interact it's clear they're interested in one another. Sam perceives them getting coffee as a date and brings tulips, meanwhile Ariel privately writes about how they enjoy being "courted". However, the two only interact initially due to Allison who is Sam's ward and Ariel's patient. Naturally, they agree it wouldn't be right to date while Allison is in therapy.

Still it was a delight to write this steadily built yearning in Ariel. Good Omens was a bit of an inspiration in that. After all it might be one of the slowest burning romances ever. If you want to read more about these older, genderqueer people falling hopelessly in love then look for the pinned post on my blog.

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miruac · 2 years

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002

masterlist

melatonin; meləˈtōnən. a hormone produced by the brain in response to darkness; associated with sleep-wake cycle.

I.H CAMPUS LECTURE HALL E; MONDAY AFTERNOON; 3:09 P.M

"yun. yunmei qi."

"nice to meet you, yunmei."

the two exchanged smiles before turning their attention towards the professor. throughout the lecture, casey felt...awake. all throughout his previous years of schooling, he constantly felt head pain, hypertension and lightheadedness. it wasn't until he was diagnosed with insomnia that he had a clue what was going on.

this lecture was taking longer than he thought it would go. even if it was only ten minutes, it felt like half an hour had already passed. casey always got bored easily, and ended up focusing his attention on something else. he scribbled a few letters on a notepad, before passing it to yun.

you bored?

yun didn't notice as she was busy typing away on her laptop. a little nudge from casey's knee broke her trance and she glanced over to him. the two made eye contact before casey gestured to the notebook. yun's eyes followed his gesture and peeked down at the slab of papers. the girl huffed and pushed it aside. she was focused on passing her classes. casey nudged her knee again, but only got an even harder nudge in return. he winced and scribbled on the notebook again.

can i at least get your number?

with one last final nudge, he successfully captured the attention of yun. she scribbled ten numbers and pushed the notebook back. casey smiled to himself and typed in the ten numbers into his phone.

unknown: hi :)

yunmei qi: stfu im tryna learn here

I.H CAMPUS LECTURE HALL E; MONDAY AFTERNOON; 4:14 P.M

yun and casey's shared lecture had just ended, and everyone was packing up their things and leaving. everyone crowded around the doors, so some pushing was bound to happen.

"hey, there's a freshman get-to-know each other event happening wednesday night, you gonna come?"

casey said, hauling his backpack over his shoulder. yun shrugged as she shoved her laptop and nessecities in her tote bag.

"i'm not a people person, and i may have plans that night."

"suit yourself. i heard they're handing out free stuff there."

yun's eyes widened at the word "free". her head shot up and made eye contact with casey, staring him down.

"they gonna have free food?"

"yes...? stop staring at me, it's like you're digging for my darkest secrets and it's creepy."

the girl giggled and smiled a bit, before waving goodbye to casey. casey smiled back, waving to her. yun walked out of the lecture hall and out onto the campus courtyard. it was sunny and breezy, with a few clouds scattered here and there.

he's kind of cute...

shes so pretty...

I.H CAMPUS DORMITORY; TUESDAY MORNING; 1:20 A.M

another night, another episode of goodnight central. whilst on the topic of life, why not add the future?

"happy 1:20 a.m everybody, welcome back to another episode of goodnight central. for new listeners, i'm q.y and this is goodnight central; a podcast devoted to helping struggling sleepers sleep. tonight, i'll be talking about the future and how many things it has waiting for everyone. now, where was i? ah yes.."

I.H CAMPUS DORMITORY; TUESDAY MORNING; 1:20 A.M

it was already past 1:10 a.m, and casey was having trouble sleeping again. his roommate was again, knocked out. as every second passed, the clock ticks got louder and louder. casey was suddenly hyperaware of everything in the room. the quiet hum of the minifridge amplified the whooshing from the ventilation system. as he stared at the dark ceiling, he couldn't help but think that yun sounded a tad similar to the girl who ran goodnight central.

she looked really pretty and sounded really pretty too...

before casey could think more, he glanced at the clock. a bright shining 1:23 a.m. tonight was the freshman event, and if he didn't sleep now he would definitely feel lightheaded later on in the day. monday morning casey ended up subscribing to goodnight central as a resort to help him sleep when his insomnia got worse occaisionally. he plugged in his headphones and tapped in on the podcast.

"ah yes, i was on the topic of new changes. new changes and the future are somewhat related, actually. again, life is just a big branch with many smaller ones determining our paths. whether we choose the right or wrong branch, our future can end up in many unexpected ways. everyone has their future planned out differently. some want to travel the world, and some want to settle down at an exact age and start a family. the future can be scary when thinking about it, and it's best to focus on the present. the present you can make choices that lead to your future. it's okay to think about your future, but you shouldn't be stressing about it. honestly, the thought of the future has me excited. growing up i've been a hopeless romantic and i've dreamed of meeting my future soulmate so often. there were a few times in high school where i would purposely hunt around the halls looking for people who i could potentially end up with, but none of them did and i'm glad they didn't. it's best to..focus on your..self...."

and that, is how casey ruang fell peacefully asleep once again.

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

HOLY SHIT HI EVERYONE ITS CURRENTLY ALMOST ONE AM AND IM DONE CHAPTER TWO AAAAAA IM SO EXCITED FOR WHAT THIS FIC HAS IN LATER CHAPTERS HEEHEE

#goodnight central #miruac #casey ruang #qi yunmei #yunmei qi #podcast au #oc #original character #slowburn romance #slowburn #fluff #love story #strangers to lovers

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jackbeloved · 5 months

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Huh?

...Nothing. Must've been rats.

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stop-talking · 2 months

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So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 3)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.2k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, masturbating, caught masturbating, overall mature themes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

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Derek hesitates outside your bedroom door, then glances at his phone to check the time.

It's late. Too late, probably. He's sure you're asleep, but, well...

He clutches his head as it throbs again, and he can practically feel his heart beating in his ears. Christ. He didn't remember it being this difficult the last time he tried to go sober.

Just as he's finally about to work up the courage to knock on your bedroom door, it swings open.

Suddenly he's face to face with you. His mouth opens to say something, anything, to explain himself, but then he notices what you're wearing.

More accurately, what you're NOT wearing. He looks down at your exposed legs. That baggy t-shirt is leaving little to the imagination, at least below the waist.

"Jesus, Derek!" You jump back and slam the door on him before he can stare too long.

"Learn to fuckin' knock!"

He groans and buries his face in his hands as you mumble to yourself on the other side of the door. He can hear you shuffling around, probably putting on pants.

"I'm... I-I'm... I just wanted..." He stutters, a mixture of shame and arousal fighting in his stomach. Combined with the awful migraine, he feels truly vulnerable in this moment. And he hates it.

"Walk and talk, Danforth." You sigh as you open the door, now sporting a pair of pajama pants. "I need some water."

Derek stumbles as you tug him along downstairs with you, trying to find the right words to say. What could you even do for him? He knew he wasn't going to be able to convince you to give him the vape back, or any of his other drugs for that matter.

Not that he even wanted to try. Derek Danforth wasn't a beggar.

"My head hurts." He finally mumbles, watching from a corner of the kitchen as you make yourself a glass of water.

"You want a Tylenol?"

"I dunno... It just hurts." He winces at the tone of his own voice. God, was he whining? He sounded whiny.

"C'mere." You sigh, setting down your glass of water and making your way over to him.

Derek stiffens as you press the back of your hand to his forehead, looking into his eyes with... concern?

"I'm not sick." He clarifies, pushing your hand away before you can make him blush further. "Just... already feeling the withdrawals."

"Ah. Got it."

There's an awkward silence for a moment, before you finally speak up again.

"So... Tylenol? Or a Gatorade?" You offer, giving him a tired smile.

"Will that make it go away?" He responds, using that damn whiny voice again as he clutches his head.

"There's nothing I can do to make it go away, love. You're just gonna feel like shit for a while until it eventually passes."

Damnit. That isn't exactly what he wanted to hear, even if it was the truth.

"I'm not gonna be able to sleep like this." He grumbles, leaning back against the counter and letting out a soft groan as his head throbs.

"You want some hot tea? Melatonin? Chloroform?"

"I might have to take you up on that last one." Derek lets out an amused huff and drops his hands from his head.

You look tired. Why are you up this late anyways? Are you... struggling with the same thoughts he is? No, that's stupid.

"Okay, but seriously. What do you want?"

Derek finally decides on a hot cup of tea and some Tylenol. He'd save the stronger stuff for later, when it all inevitably got worse.

You send him off to bed again, and this time it's not as hard to fall asleep. He buries his head in a pillow, your smile burned into his brain.

"God damnit, I'm getting soft."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

The next morning, you decide to let Derek sleep in a little. Out of the kindness of your heart. Not because you slept through all your alarms.

You sit on the couch, watching a movie. Well, staring off into space in the general direction of the TV as a movie plays.

It was hard to sleep last night, considering everything that happened with Derek. You went into this expecting a self-absorbed prick with anger issues, and, well... you got that from him, partially.

But he'd also shown you another side of him, the side that was willing to listen. That part of him... wasn't so bad.

You snap out of your stupor when you hear Derek making his way down the stairs.

"Hey, how'd you sleep?"

"Fine..." He grumbles, stumbling over to join you on the couch. He looks exhausted, his hair disheveled and clothing crinkled. Actually, he's dressed rather... plain. A t-shirt and shorts. Are those the clothes his mom picked out for him?

"Your head feel any better?"

"Not really."

Before you can ask anything else, he lies down on the couch and curls up, closing his eyes. He looks like he wants to go back to sleep already.

"You know, my guys back home are gonna be lost without me. I have a business to run." He mumbles, eyes still closed.

"Yeah... I'm aware. I'm sure they'll be fine on their own for a few weeks, no? We informed a few of your higher-ups that you were taking a vacation."

Derek scoffs. "Yeah. A vacation."

"Oh, come on. You are literally in a vacation house."

That makes him open his eyes, if only to glare at you.

"Not by choice. I'm a prisoner in my own home." He shifts so that he's lying on his back, and dramatically drapes an arm over his eyes as he pouts.

"Alright then, inmate Danforth. What would you like for brunch?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek stares down at the bowl of oatmeal in his lap as he sits up on the couch. Peasant food.

He had insisted he wasn't hungry, but you insisted twice as hard that he still needed to eat. With the pounding in his head, he didn't have it in him to argue.

And so, Derek tried a bite of oatmeal for the first time since he was a child.

"How is it?" You ask, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

"It's okay." Truthfully, it was exactly what he'd expected. Mushy and weird. But the fruit you added wasn't too bad.

"What movie is this?" He asks, turning his attention to the television.

"Honestly, don't even know. Wanna pick something else?"

"I doubt we have the same taste in movies." He scoffs, shoveling in another bite of oatmeal.

"Oh? And what do you think I like to watch?"

"I dunno... chick flicks? Rom coms?"

"Oh, yeah. Because that's all women are allowed to enjoy, huh?"

"That's not what I mean. Just... my tastes are probably more... sophisticated than yours when it comes to cinema."

"Oh? And what's your favorite movie?"

"Fight club." He answers, without hesitation.

You immediately burst into a fit of laughter, for reasons completely unknown to him. The fuck is so funny? It's a good movie.

"What? Have you seen it before?" He asks, eyeing you as you try to compose yourself.

"Yes, Derek. I've seen fight club." You wipe a tear from one eye and give him a bemused smile.

Was it really that funny? Derek shifts on the couch, starting to feel self-conscious.

"What's... what's your favorite movie?" He asks, changing the subject.

"Legally blonde."

Before he can speak up, you cut him off.

"That doesn't mean I only like chick flicks."

He closes his mouth. Damnit.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After a few more minutes of bickering, you and Derek finally settle on a movie.

You lounge back against the couch, one hand on the armrest and one in Derek's hair. You're still not completely sure how he managed to worm his way onto your lap, but whatever.

"Thought you didn't like the idea of just sitting on our asses all day?" You tease, looking down at him as you card your fingers through his soft curls.

"That was before the migraines got this bad." He groans, shifting and rubbing his cheek against your thigh as he lies on your lap. His stubble makes a scratchy sound, but you can't feel it through your pants. Shame.

"It's only day two of sobriety, Derek. Don't be a baby."

He stiffens. Your teasing words seem to cut a little deeper than you intended, and he pushes your hand away from his hair and grumbles.

"You try going sober."

"I already am."

"Then try drugs. And then try going sober."

His grumbling gets a soft laugh out of you. Even though he's irritated with you, he still doesn't make an effort to move from your lap. Poor thing. He probably feels like shit.

"Sorry. I know it's hard." You speak softly, and slide your fingers back into his hair, gently scrunching a handful of his curls.

He doesn't stop you this time, giving in completely and practically melting in your lap as you play with his hair.

If only you knew how "hard" it really was right now.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek spends the afternoon drifting in and out of sleep on your lap, hardly paying attention to the action movie series he convinced you to binge with him.

Your fingers in his hair just feel so right. It takes everything in him not to whimper when you tug on his curls in the perfect spot, or gently drag your nails across his scalp.

Two movies later, you nudge his head off your lap and stand, leaving him to pout on the couch alone.

"Where you going?" He groans, stretching out.

"Come on, love. You can't just sleep all day. Lets get some sunshine."

"You mean go down to the beach again?"

"Mhm. C'mon, go change clothes."

Derek grumbles, but allows you to pull him up off the couch. You were probably right, he needed to get up and do something. That didn't mean he had to admit it, though.

"Fine. But I'm not swimming."

"Of course."

Derek changes into his swimsuit without a fuss, but throws on a shirt this time as well, trying to avoid any... accidents that might occur if you decide to touch all over his back again. Damn woman.

He trudges back downstairs only to see you already waiting for him on the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table as you apply sunscreen to them. It's a nice sight, but fuck, he shouldn't stare.

"Need help?" He asks, taking a seat next to you.

"Just with my back."

Derek nods, squirting a generous amount of sunscreen into his hands. As you lean forward and get your legs, he rubs circles into your back, touching you just a bit too long.

Under the guise of wanting to be thorough, he slides his hands up to your shoulders and tucks them under the straps of your swimsuit. He leaves them there, enjoying the feeling of your warm skin.

"Sure you don't need me to get any other places for you, sweetheart?" He teases, leaning a little closer and speaking right next to your ear.

That earns him an elbow to the rib. He winces and dramatically grabs his side, pretending to be knocked back onto the couch.

"Kick a man while he's down, why don't ya." He groans and writhes on the couch in mock pain, which actually makes you chuckle.

"Don't be crass and I won't have to." You try to scold him, but Derek can see the slight smile on your lips. You find him endearing.

"No promises."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After much coaxing, you finally manage to get Derek to wade waist-deep into the water. He looks extremely unhappy about it, shivering even though it's hardly cold.

He suddenly jumps back, nearly knocking himself over. You reach out and grab his arm to steady him against the crashing waves.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I think I stepped on a fish." He grumbles, face twisted up in disgust as he scans the water in front of his feet.

You can't help but laugh at that.

"Derek..." You choke out, "You did NOT step on a goddamn fish."

He turns away and mumbles something incoherent, his voice drowned out by the waves and wind.

Ah. So it's not just the water he's afraid of, but something about the ocean as well.

"You wanna hold my hand?" You offer, sliding your hand down his arm and lacing your fingers with his before he can even answer.

Derek doesn't say anything, but he gives your hand a tight squeeze and pulls you a little closer.

"I don't get what you see in this. I think I'm getting seasick."

"I think I'm getting Derek-sick."

"That doesn't even make sense."

You use your free hand to splash some water in his face, giggling as he sputters.

"God, that's salty. Fuck you."

He splashes you back, which you of course return, and soon it snowballs into you two nearly drowning each other.

As soon as you let go of Derek's hand to splash him better, he freaks out and scrambles back a few feet until he's only knee deep.

Right. He still isn't used to this. You give him a sheepish smile and join him in the shallower water.

"Wanna just sit for a while?"

"Yeah."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is feeling a lot better come evening. He hates to admit it, but it did feel nice to sit in the water with you. Even if the sand and seaweed felt icky.

After showering off all the salt and sand, he heads back downstairs to meet you. He doesn't bother changing into his usual eccentric clothing, the day is almost over anyways.

When he meets you in the kitchen, his hair is still damp and he's wearing a plain t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Starting dinner without me?" He teases, leaning against the doorframe and watching you chop something. Garlic, maybe?

"Oh? So you want to help me now?"

"Maybe I just want to make sure you don't mess it up."

"Oh? Like how you messed up that pancake?"

Derek grumbles something incoherent under his breath, using more than a few curses.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that. Wash your hands and I'll let you help."

He complies, washing his hands and moving to eagerly peer over your shoulder.

"What are you making?"

"Spaghetti. Just something quick and easy."

Derek didn't think it was quick and easy. But then again, he had virtually no experience cooking, usually relying on personal chefs and such.

"And what do I do?"

"Here, you can stir." You pour the minced onion and garlic mixture into a pan that's been heating on the stove, and pass him a large metal spoon.

He takes his task very seriously, furrowing his brow as he carefully stirs the mixture around in the pan.

"How long do I have to do this?"

"A few minutes. Then we add in more stuff and you stir longer."

Okay, he could do that. Just stir. Easy.

"Alright."

You do exactly as you say, letting him stir for a few minutes, then dump some ground beef into the pan. Derek makes a face at the raw meat, but continues to stir.

After adding a can of tomato sauce and more seasonings than he can count, you insist its done, and that he can stop stirring. He almost doesn't want to. It's so relaxing, standing over the stove while you whir around him and work on other things.

He's come to enjoy the occasional touches as you brush past, the praises you utter when he listens, and the warmth of it all. Both from the stove, and the feeling of having you near.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is surprisingly quiet at dinner, you notice. It's not the angry kind of quiet you've come to expect, but a calm quiet. He seems... peaceful.

"You like it, I'm guessing?" You smile as he shovels a rather large bite of noodles into his mouth.

"Mhm." He just gives you a nod, unable to speak.

"You wanna wind down in front of the TV after dinner?"

"Yeah. Sounds good."

Later, you settle down on the couch and Derek finds his way back into your lap.

"Someone's getting comfortable." You tease, running your fingers through his hair. It's still damp from his shower.

"Shut up." He grumbles. "I'm just tired."

"Mhm." You hum, staring down and paying more attention to him than the third action movie of the day. He actually looks kind of cute when he isn't dressed in garish clothing and acting like a prick.

The movie isn't even halfway over when he starts to nod off into sleep. It must not be as interesting as he insisted. Or maybe he really is tired.

Either way, he should probably go to bed. You gently shake him awake, noting the small wet spot on your jeans as he sits up. Was he drooling?

"Huh?" He gasps and rubs the sleep from his eyes, a little startled to be woken from such a deep sleep.

"I said you should go to bed, love." You give him a soft smile and he just blinks at you in return, still a little out of it.

"Yeah. Okay."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

For the 2nd night in a row, Derek can't sleep. And for the 2nd night in a row, he blames you.

The only difference tonight is that his thoughts aren't as... innocent. Obviously, he enjoys the way you've been treating him lately. Your soft words and even softer touch have him absolutely melting.

Well, that and the hand wrapped around his aching cock. The hand he so desperately wishes could be yours.

He lies back in bed, boxers at his ankles as he strokes himself. He's waited so long for this. Everything you do drives him crazy, even the most innocent of touches make his blood rush south.

As the pacing of his jerking increases, he can no longer stifle his whimpers. Truly pathetic sounds escape his lips between pants and gasps, and he bucks up into his own hand, pretending it's yours.

God, he can imagine it so well. He closes his eyes and lets your voice fill his ears. In his mind, you sing him praises and whisper words of comfort.

He's close now. In his fantasy, you are too, calling out his name again and again as he thrusts into you.

It sounds so... real. Your voice. His name.

"Derek?"

His eyes snap open, and he lifts his head to look at the bedroom door in front of him. The bedroom door that's opening. Fuck.

He knows he should say something, do something, to stop you from seeing him like this. But he can't. Not when he's so close.

When your eyes lock with him, he immediately squirts hot ropes of cum all over his hand, stomach, and... fuck, a few drops land on his face, too.

You freeze and stare at him for barely half a second, but that's all the time he needs.

He sighs and gently milks out the last few drops as you turn away and slam the door, apologizing over and over. Derek isn't listening. He falls back onto his bed and catches his breath, head fuzzy.

Fuck. What did he just do?

The realization hits as he sits up, watching the cum drip down his chest. His stomach twists into a knot at the thought of facing you after what just happened. This is a new low, even for him.

Well... that's going to be an awkward conversation in the morning.

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Author's note: Sorry this chapter took so long!! I'm trying to stick to 2k - 2.5k words each... but that is obviously not happening LMAO. Expect a new chapter in 2-3 days... Posting longer chapters less frequently just works better for me!

This is dedicated to the anon who asked for a "Derek masturbating chapter". You dirty bastard. (I love you)

P.S feel free to send any requests at all. I plan to make at LEAST three more chapters to this story. <3

Part 4

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson smut #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth smut #smut #the beekeeper #slowburn fic #slowburn romance #fanfic

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