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kitten4sannie · 6 months ago

Text

for love of the game

pairing: pitcher! wooyoung x batter! reader (fem) x teammate! yunho

genres: college baseball au, enemies to fuckbuddies, best friends to fuckbuddies, smut

summary: jung wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, is beyond determined to show you that he is in fact, on top. Yunho, your close friend and reliable teammate, will do everything in his power to watch it all go down.

w.c: 5k (2k words of plot bc i can ✨ the rest is filth tho i promise <3)

warnings: tobacco/vape usage, nasty mean dom! wooyo, perverted subby puppyboy! yuyu, bratty bitch in the streets, subby slut in the sheets! reader, yuyu has a horsecock, implied brat taming, brief choking, mxm, one single slap and spank, cuckholding, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, humiliation kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism/voyeurism, brief breath play, oral (giving/receiving), masturbation, yuyu sucks cock, thigh fucking, cum eating, deep-throating, spit kink, hair tugging, breeding kink (would it be a kitten4sannie fic without it? idt so 💅🏼), unprotected sex, creampies, dumbification

a/n: hey batter, batter~~ ughhh i’ve been itching to write this ever since they went to their first dodger game 🥺 i had an unusual amount of fun writing this as you’ll be able to tell eeheheheh (≧∀≦) anygaysss i hope you enjoy this hater x hater x nasty bsf fantasy ✨

song recs: siren by ateez - new girl by finneas - knock me out by miyavi - heaven and back by chase atlantic

“You ready for today’s game, Y/N?” Yunho, your teammate and closest personal friend outside of baseball, asked you inquisitively, one of his large hands rubbing into the tense muscle of your shoulder, using the other to send a tactical text message to someone.

When you weren’t training, working out, or competing in your college team’s playoff games, you were hanging out in Yunho’s frat house, watching him get his ass handed to him in League. You both had a simple, easy going relationship, one that consisted of chill kickbacks and drunken shenanigans, with the occasional exchange of longing glances, lingering touches, and perhaps an adrenaline induced fuck or two, or three before and after one of your games — but who were you to decipher what your relationship status was? You had your future career to focus on.

“Am I ready? Yun, I came out the pussy ready for this fucking game,” you replied vulgarly, bringing your water bottle up to your lips to take a few sips, smiling crookedly up at your tall friend over the shoulder he was keenly massaging.

“That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Yunho chimed proudly, shoving his phone into his back pocket so that he could use both of his hands on your shoulders, doing his best to loosen up your muscles with his long, slender fingers.

“I’m not your baby, but maybe I would be if you stopped solo-queuing as Braum every time you hop on League.” You couldn’t help but let out a few groans from the pressure he was using on you, hoping that his massage would aid you in the powerful swings you would have to make during the next seven innings. “I’m tired of watching you get ass fucked every round.”

“You wanna go for a few rounds next time then? I wouldn’t mind watching you get wrecked,” Yunho mumbled into your ear, glancing across the dugout at the other team, before he let go of you and sat down next to his rowdy teammates, joining in on the competition to see whose thighs could take up the most space on the crowded bench.

“Yeah, I bet, you degenerate. Oh, you know what else you can watch?” you retorted, pretending to reach into one of your pockets and pulling out nothing, simply holding your middle finger up to Yunho. Your best friend quickly mirrored your unique display of affection, leading the both of you to giggle and smile at each other for a little too long, before you decided to sit down as well and conserve your energy.

During the typical pre-game announcements, you found yourself not being able to get comfortable like you usually could. It was off-putting, to say the least. There was nothing unusual going on. The sky was nice and clear, the wind blew a cool breeze across the exposed skin of your neck, right in between your pulled-up hair and the collar of your softball uniform. Your teammates were all stretching their limbs, shooting the shit, eagerly chewing nicotine gum, or spitting out tobacco juice into empty water bottles. All was right in the world, yet you couldn’t seem to stop bouncing your thigh, your cleats repeatedly digging deeper marks into the dirt below. That was when you felt the intensity of someone’s eyes boring into you.

“Yo, baby, you got some chew on you?” someone with an irritatingly smug, yet distinctly familiar voice asked you from the other side of the snug dugout.

You immediately stood up from your seat, turning your head in the direction of the voice, just in time for you to come face to face with the Devil himself.

Jung Wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, was casually leaning down against the small metal fence that separated your teams, looking up at you through the yellow lenses of his sunglasses.

“Do I look like the type to put that nasty shit in my mouth?” you immediately snapped, taking a few steps in his direction, not realizing how hard you were squeezing your plastic water bottle until it began to audibly crunch inside your tight grasp. “Huh?”

Wooyoung licked at the mole on his chapped bottom lip, his canines becoming visible when he smiled cockily at you. He missed his favorite plaything. You were so easy to rile up. It made his already tight pinstripe pants even tighter. “Mm, but you’ve put nastier things in your mouth, haven’t you, baby?”

Scoffing, you placed your hands on your soft hips, shaking your head, pretending his perverse words didn’t make your cheeks feel like they were already sunburnt, wanting to put up more of a front, now that your entire team was possibly listening in. “You would know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you, Wooyoung? The handjobs you give your team aren’t doing enough for you these days, huh?”

Wooyoung did his best to ignore the snickers and whispers of your team, taking his cap off to run his fingers through his silky raven hair, biting the corner of his lip all the while. “People talk in the locker rooms, you know. They say you really know your way around a cock. Probably from all that practice you get with your teammates, yeah?” He looked over to Yunho, who sheepishly smiled at him. “You can vouch for me, can’t you, Yun?” The batter remained quiet out of fear of your wrath.

Wooyoung was about to say more, when his vision was suddenly blurred by something cold. You had offered him mercy, dumping the rest of your water on the pitcher’s head, rather than shoving the entire bottle up his ass like you desperately wanted to. Instead of blowing up on you and embarrassing himself like you had hoped he would, Wooyoung simply flipped his hair back and put his cap back on, resulting in a few squeals from some nearby fangirls that were sitting in the stands. “If getting me hard was the goal, you succeeded, Y/N.”

You grimaced. “You’re fucking disgusting, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung reached over the fence to push a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “But, you love it, don’t you? That’s why you’re so obsessed with me.”

“You should be obsessed with me. Maybe if you paid attention, you could figure out how to pitch a ball that I won’t knock out of the goddamn stadium.”

You irked Wooyoung to no end, your equally quick-witted jabs getting underneath the pitcher’s tan skin. However, he wouldn’t let you have the satisfaction of seeing that, unless hell itself froze over. “And if you paid attention, maybe your team would actually make it past the playoffs.”

That was when a vein visibly began to bulge out of your temple, your jaw tensing. Wooyoung had struck a nerve. You knew it, he knew it, and your team definitely knew it. You’d give anything to make it to the championship game, but it was always just barely out of reach. The fact that Wooyoung would stoop so incredibly low had your blood boiling. You wanted nothing more than to grab the smug pitcher by his collar and spit directly in his face, but you were afraid that he would enjoy that more than you would have. So, instead you simply accepted defeat in that moment and sat back down on the bench, staring ahead at the expansive baseball field.

You were too caught up in your own furious thoughts to notice that Yunho had left the spot he had taken up on the bench, instead leaning on the same fence Wooyoung had been chilling on just moments ago.

“Your girl’s feisty, Yun. I fucking love it. She seems like she bites. Does she bite?” Wooyoung prodded the taller man, just as he pulled a vape out of his pocket and took a long hit, causally blowing out the smoke into Yunho’s face.

Yunho waved the vapor away, shaking his head slightly. “She’s not mine, but yeah, she bites. She…does a lot of things.”

Wooyoung hummed in response, smiling like he knew something no one else did, his eyes shifting from the crowd, to his teammates who smiled back at him, then back up at Yunho. “She’s not yours, but she lets you hit, doesn’t she?”

“She does…She’s just very...rough.” Yunho bit his lip, thinking about how ferociously you would ride his cock in the empty locker rooms after the games you would ultimately lose, remembering all the love bites and scratches you littered his broad body in, knowing you wouldn’t let him go until you left his cock raw and so sensitive he was ready to cry. He was more of a softie himself, a good boy, if you will, not exactly cut out for the animalistic sex you required after such a brutal loss. Wooyoung, however, seemed more fit for that. In fact, Yunho felt his throat go dry just imagining the two of you going at it in such a way, especially in front of him. That was allowed, right?

“Yunho.” Wooyoung took another long puff from his vape, using his free hand to take his glasses off and placing them over the brim of his baseball cap.

“Yeah?”

Wooyoung reached up to place his hand on Yunho’s tense shoulder, massaging his digits into it to loosen up the muscle. “I got a proposition for you. If your team wins today, you get to fuck a happy, calm Y/N. She’ll probably even blow you without expecting anything back. Who knows, she might even swallow.”

Yunho unconsciously licked his lips, glancing back over the shoulder Wooyoung was massaging into to admire your pretty face, even if it was contorted with rage-filled determination. He slowly looked back down at the pitcher. “And, if your team wins?”

Wooyoung grinned deviously, licking at one of his sharp canines. “I get to put that pretty slut in her place.”

The first locker in your sight was the main recipient of your bubbling anger, the side of your bat making contact with the metal, incidentally leaving an indent. “Motherfucker!” you shouted to no one inside the empty women’s locker room, tossing the bat down the long hallway, not bothering to watch it roll along the ground until it was stopped by someone’s dusty cleat.

You threw your baseball cap into your crowded locker along with your balled up, button-up shirt once you pulled it off of your torso. You then pressed your hands into the cool metal, staring at your angry, sweaty reflection in the locker door mirror, huffing and puffing. “How could you strike out to a bitch like him? Do better,” you told yourself, your hands forming fists.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, making his presence known, taking slow steps down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, happily chewing on a piece of gum. “I knew you were a sore loser, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Are you lost, Wooyoung? This is the women’s locker room, and last time I checked you don’t have a pussy,” you spat in his direction, reaching down to unbutton your pants.

“You wanna check for me, baby? I might not be hung like Yunho, but I’ll still be able to pump you full of cum. A slutty little cleat chaser like you would love that, huh?” Wooyoung mused vulgarly, leaning against the lockers, lowering his tinted glasses to leer at your half-naked body.

You didn’t look at Wooyoung for too long, knowing you might kill him, or fuck him raw, if you did, now that jealousy-fueled rage was flowing through your veins.

A shower would probably help cool you down. Help you think straight. On the other hand, a nice, thick cock drilling into you wouldn’t solve all your problems, but it sure would help, even if it was your sworn enemy who was servicing you. Instead of replying, you simply shimmied out of your tight, dust-covered pants and stepped out of them, bringing a foot up onto the bench to stretch out your sore, bruise-ridden legs, deeply annoyed that you slid to so many bases just to lose anyway.

Wooyoung’s throat ran dry, his gaze suddenly fixated on the g-string that formed to the curves of your hips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down upon the sight of the thin string tightly cupping your cunt as you bent down to massage your fingers into your thighs and calves. “Fuck, is that a thong? You usually don’t wear anything…”

“What does it look like, dumbass?” you snapped, before turning on your heels in the opposite direction, looking back at him over your shoulder. Chuckling softly at the tent that formed inside his pants, you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it drop to the floor, prior to heading into the open shower room, very aware of the fact that Wooyoung was following close behind you like a eager, drooling puppy, smirking at the sounds of shuffling and grunting, the pitcher’s clothes hitting the tile floor on the way. Wooyoung talked a big game, but at the end of the day, he was just a man, and you took pride in knowing you had that power over him, even if you didn’t have it on the field.

“Hey, does having something rubbing against your pussy help you play better, Y/N? Or do you just like getting wet in front of all those men like the whore you are?” Wooyoung asked near your ear, watching you turn the shower handle to the right until a steady stream of warm water began to pour onto the both of you, waiting for you to turn around so that he could slip his twitching fingers under the thong straps that clung to your hips and pulled them up just to watch your pussy lips slip out past the thin material, making the pitcher groan.

“Did you come here just to slut shame me, Wooyoung?” You pressed your back into the cold tile wall behind you, goosebumps forming on your bare, heated skin, looking up at him past your wispy lashes, an amalgamation of intense hatred and lust sitting just beneath the surface of your piercing gaze. “Or did you come here to fuck me?”

Wooyoung groaned at your bold words, pressing one of his hands onto the wall near your head, the other cupping your slick cunt, his lips just barely ghosting yours. “I didn’t just come here to fuck you, princess. I came here to ruin you.”

“Then, ruin me,” you reiterated, grabbing Wooyoung by a tuft of his wet hair, your teeth and tongues clashing together in an instant.

Once Wooyoung was satisfied with the amount of spit he had swallowed, he pulled back, simply placing one hand on the top of your head and forcefully pushing you down until you got the hint.

You were mad at yourself for being unable to resist getting on your knees for a cocky prick like Wooyoung, so you simply glared up at him, trying to pretend you didn’t notice his stiff, thick cock standing at attention in front of your face. “When I said ruin me, I meant my cunt. You think I’m just gonna suck you off because you pushed my head down? It’s bold of you to assume I won’t bite.”

“Don’t be a brat, Y/N. I won today, so I deserve special treatment, don’t I?” Wooyoung argued, squinting his eyes at you once you began grimacing up at his erection, his fingers wrapping around your hair to create a makeshift ponytail. “Maybe if you didn’t strike out so many times, I would be the one on my knees, devouring that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Shut the fuck up…” you murmured, squeezing your thighs together, not understanding why someone like Wooyoung had so much power over you.

“That’s not very nice of you to say, princess.” Wooyoung reached down with his free hand to hold the base of his cock, tapping the leaking tip against your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them in the process. “How about we put that dirty mouth of yours to better use, yeah?”

Afraid he was late to the show after being forced to do an interview with the local college, Yunho quickly made his way into the women’s locker room, almost slipping on the bat you left on the floor as he followed the sounds of breathy groans, gurgled moans, and running water that were echoing from the showers. He almost fell to his knees at the sight of his best friend taking cock down her throat. You were a complete mess, streaks of mascara running down your flushed cheeks, strands of milky saliva dribbling down past your swollen lips, along your bulging throat, and onto your tits, your nose routinely making contact with Wooyoung’s pelvis. Yunho didn’t even know you could deep-throat cock with so much ease.

Leaning against the opposite side of the shower room, Yunho desperately began to palm at his stiff, leaking length through the baggy gray sweatpants that hung loosely from his hips, his cheeks and ears growing red once he caught your teary gaze.

You reached in between your trembling thighs, trying to relieve the deep ache inside your dripping cunt by filling it with two of your fingers, letting out a choked moan when Wooyoung roughly smacked the side of your cheek.

“Did I say you could touch yourself? You’re my cocksleeve right now. You don’t get to play with your cunt, dumb whore,” Wooyoung grunted, letting go of your hair to pinch your nose when you wouldn’t stop finger-fucking yourself, keeping his cock lodged deep inside your throat, cutting off your only source to oxygen.

“M-mmnfff…!” you whimpered, your brain starting to feel delightfully fuzzy around the edges, getting an instant head high from not being able to breathe. You waited until the very last second to stop playing with yourself, suddenly grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips and squeezing them tightly, begging him for mercy with your watery eyes.

Wooyoung immediately pulled his cock out of your mouth and slapped it down onto your face as a further attempt to humiliate you in front of your friend. “What a dirty slut…” He began to jerk himself off, rubbing his reddened cockhead against your parted lips. “I want you to listen to me. Once I cum inside your mouth, you’re not going to swallow, got it?”

Wiping the excess saliva from your face, you nodded your head obediently, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes, knowing Yunho was just a few feet away from you, but too distracted by the thick, leaking cock right in front of your face. “Cum, please…”

Yunho didn’t realize how much he was getting off on being ignored by the two of you until he finally freed his cock from his stained sweatpants and jerked himself off directly, thick globs of pre-cum pouring down the side of his heavy length, breathy, whiny moans escaping from his drooling mouth, his glasses starting to fog up.

“Brainless for me already, hm? What a good girl. Now, show me your tongue,” Wooyoung whispered, taking advantage of the situation and sending a few strings of spit down onto it as soon as you held out your tongue. When he watched you swallow it immediately, your thighs squeezing together right after, Wooyoung tossed his head back and let out a long guttural groan, pressing his cockhead against your tongue just in time for spurts of hot cum to shoot out of it.

Ready to cum untouched from being used solely for Wooyoung’s pleasure, you carefully closed your mouth, not letting any of his hot load spill out, but not swallowing it down either, as much as you wanted to.

Wooyoung reached down to run his fingers through your wet hair, admiring the mess of pre-cum and spit you had on your face, smiling at you with his canines on display. “Spit out my cum onto your fingers and fuck it into that whore-hole of yours. You wanted to play with yourself, didn’t you? Now’s your chance, princess.”

Shocked by Wooyoung’s perverted request, you simply looked up at him with wide eyes, looking like a hamster with the way your cheeks were currently puffed out and filled with his cum.

“Go on, baby. Don’t be shy. Show Yunho why you have a reputation of being such a shameless cumslut with the guys on my team,” Wooyoung encouraged breathily, gently patting one of your filled cheeks, a few dribbles of milkiness leaking out past your lips.

Yunho’s eyes left the soaking mess in between your thighs for a second to meet your embarrassed gaze, coming to terms with this new information. Not only did you fuck him after your losses, but you took the time to fuck the winning team, even after Yunho had filled your womb with countless loads. You really were a slut. Yunho became so hard, he grew a bit dizzy.

“F-fine, but don’t stare…” you murmured sheepishly, as if you hadn’t been ran through by both of their teams before. The men in question watched with bated breath as you let the milky load drip onto your fingers, letting out little gasps when they quickly disappeared all the way inside you, your cunt making obscene squelching sounds each time you pushed them in and out.

“You’re so filthy…I think I’m in love,” Wooyoung sighed dreamily, reaching down to clutch your jaw with his slender fingers. He smiled keenly at your contorted expression, enjoying the sound of your whiny moans. “What’s wrong, princess? Are you going to cum just from being a filthy whore? Does it feel that good knowing you're breeding yourself with my load? Mm, and it feels even better knowing that Yunho is watching you be my pretty little cum dump, huh?”

“S-so good, I might…ffffuck…” Once your heated gaze returned to your best friend, Yunho began to seize up at the same time as you, painting his plain black t-shirt with ropes of cum just as your milky release poured onto the tile floor below.

Wooyoung simply chuckled in amusement, before turning his head to face his longtime friend just in time to see him wiping thick streaks of cum off of his long, softened length. “Did you just bust a nut from watching Y/N try to impregnate herself?”

“Y-yes.” Blushing, Yunho adjusted his glasses out of habit, now that he wasn’t wearing his contacts, pulling at the sleeve of his hoodie now that his two favorite people were looking at him like they wanted to devour him.

“You’re just as dirty as she is.” Wooyoung smiled idly, positioning himself behind you so that your back pressed into his chest, slowly spreading you wide open for all three of you to see just how pink your soaked slit was. “Hey, Yun. You hungry?”

“Very,” your teammate replied quickly, licking at his lips, already finding himself on his knees before you, ready to start panting in true golden retriever fashion.

“You don’t mind if Yun eats out your pretty, cum-stuffed cunt, do you, baby?” Wooyoung asked you, leaning over to nip at your jaw, pinching your swollen clit just to hear the cute sound you made for him.

Just as you gave them the go-ahead, your teammate buried his face in between your thighs, appreciating how Wooyoung spread you open further with his thumbs, eagerly lapping at the milky liquid that slowly began to drip out of you.

“What a good puppy,” Wooyoung praised, growing hard and harder the longer he watched Yunho desperately slurp up the tangy mixture into his drooling mouth, slipping his cock in between your soft, sweaty thighs, appreciating the warmth they provided. “Do you like the way my cum tastes, Yun?”

“Tasches scho good, Woo,” Yunho replied with his mouth full, dragging his dripping tongue up and over your puffy cunt over and over, idly kneading his fingers into the sides of your thighs.

Groaning, Wooyoung began to fuck the tight space in between your thighs, the underside of his cock rubbing deliciously against your pussy, making you moan even louder than you were before. “You wanna taste it from the source, Yun? Huh? You want a taste of my cock?”

Yunho nodded quickly, having to push down his own stiff length from the way it was poking into his abdomen. Drooling, he watched how Wooyoung pulled you just a little farther back against his body, until Yunho had access to his friend’s leaking cock, immediately wrapping his lips around the reddened tip and noisily slurping on it.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Wooyoung moaned out, clutching one of your hips tightly, snaking the other one around your waist to begin flicking and rubbing your clit, looking down over your shoulder to watch his friend fervently suck and lick at his cock each time he thrusted himself between your closed, trembling thighs, a combination of his pre-cum and your wetness dirtying Yunho’s foggy glasses. “I’m gonna fucking cum all over your face, Yun. Gonna make Y/N squirt all over it too.”

“Give it to me, please…” he panted, dragging his tongue up from Wooyoung’s twitching tip, along your pulsing cunt, and up over your clit, licking fervently at it when Wooyoung lifted your hood up to expose it completely. Yunho was so desperate to chase his high, he almost didn’t register that he had begun to hump against your leg like a dog in heat, leaving streaks of sticky pre-cum on your skin.

“Good puppy, fuck, you’re such a good boy, Yuyu,” you praised your teammate whinily, desperately rubbing your cunt all over his tongue until your knees felt like they were about to buckle, Wooyoung’s veiny cock running along your slit from below sending you over the edge.

“Wet this puppy’s face with your squirt, baby. Now,” Wooyoung growled into your ear, biting on the side of it just as he roughly pinched your clit, thrusting forward in between your thighs one more time, only for his sensitive tip to be met with Yunho’s agile tongue, his eyes rolling back when his friend lapped over and into the slit.

Right as your arousal began to squirt onto Yunho’s flushed face, Wooyoung’s cock twitched up into your cunt, his hot load shooting out onto your teammate’s tongue, a few spurts landing onto his glasses.

When Yunho was about to cum from rubbing himself all over your leg, he suddenly didn’t have access to it, causing him to look up and whimper. Licking at the cum and squirt on his lips, his honey brown eyes widened at the both of you, his pupils blown wide.

Wooyoung had lifted up your trembling thighs so that they were pressed into either side of you, your body folded up like a paper doll, his hardened cock already slipping in and out of your soaking cunt. Chuckling at your breathless moans and whines, he dragged his tongue up and over your jaw, humming at the taste of your salty skin. “You’ve been waiting to get pounded like this, yeah? Because no one uses this pretty body like I do…huh? You’re so spoiled now.”

“It’s all your fault,” you gasped out in between moans, reaching your arm back to hold onto Wooyoung’s neck, turning your head so that your lips ghosted along the side of his panting mouth. “Please cum inside, Woo, please, I need it.”

Wooyoung squeezed his fingers into the underside of your thighs, bucking his hips roughly up into you. “God, I love when I turn you into my little breeding bitch.” He turned his head so that he could bite at your bottom lip, groaning, “Get ready to retire, baby. I’m gonna knock you up.”

Yunho thought he was going to lose his goddamn mind from witnessing the display of dominance and submission that was taking place directly above him. Wooyoung was completely controlling your body, ruthlessly fucking up into you, one hand tugging at your hair, the other wrapped around your neck, a small bulge routinely becoming visible within your lower abdomen with each thrust and every he made into your stretched cunt. It seemed like neither of you could even remember that Yunho was there, right below you, until he began to eagerly lick at the slick, milky space where your heated, sticky bodies routinely made contact.

You both moaned at the pleasurable sensation, your pulsing lower halves beginning to grow extremely heavy. “Yuyuuu, that feels so good,” you whimpered, angling your head down to gaze lovingly at Yunho, reaching your hand down to ruffle his sweaty hair.

Growling, Wooyoung grabbed you by the chin and shoved his tongue down your throat, forcibly bouncing you up and down on his cock. Your teary eyes never closed, and never left Yunho’s, even when you began to cum for Wooyoung, your release spilling out into your dear teammate’s open mouth and onto his lolled-out tongue. Just when Yunho thought he couldn’t get any harder, you began to cry out a cuter version of Wooyoung’s name once he really started to drill his pulsing cock into your sensitive cunt, the twinges of jealousy Yunho felt only contributing to his need to witness his friend unload himself into you.

Wooyoung pressed his forehead against yours, his sharp eyes boring into yours. “You look at me when you take my load, baby. I don’t care if your little boyfriend is watching me fuck you stupid,” he demanded, smacking his palm roughly into the side of your ass, making you squeak out in pleasurable pain.

“Yes, Youngie,” you breathed out, your eyebrows drawing closer once your bottom half began to grow heavier and heavier, not knowing if you were truly capable of cumming for the nth time.

“What a good girl…Open your mouth for me…” Sighing softly, he caught his dripping saliva on your tongue with his own and slid it into your open mouth, the both of you letting out muffled moans as he spilled inside you once again. He broke the sloppy kiss to look down over your shoulder, admiring how his load began to slip out past his softening cock, dripped down past his balls, and landed onto Yunho’s fucked-out face. He smiled darkly at the dried spurts of cum Yunho left on his t-shirt and stained sweatpants. “Baby, look at the mess puppy made…”

You licked at your lips, both you and Wooyoung just about devouring your teammate with your lustful gazes alone. “Oh, Yuyu. Look what you’ve done to yourself. Poor, sweet puppy just wants to feel good, doesn’t he?”

Yunho bit his bottom lip, looking up at the both of you with half-closed, watery eyes, completely at your combined mercy. “Y-yeah. More, please.”

You and Wooyoung exchanged lecherous glances, knowing neither of you would be able to stop, especially not when you had such a perfect new companion to play with. Despite all the odds, you and your rival had finally come to a truce, and, of course, came to the conclusion that you’d be tag teaming Yunho until you would have to get ready for softball practice the next morning.

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samkerrworshipper · 8 months ago

Text

have no fear

jordan nobbs x reader, leah williamson x reader, arsenal x reader

part 2 of beautiful girl series -> pt. 1 -> pt.3

warnings: drug addiction, drug use, angst, pain, mentions of sexual assault, little bit of fluff if you look really close

So with every last piece of strength that you had in your body, you pulled the door open.

“Hey chicky.”

You tried to smile at your ma, you did, but it was hard.

“Hey ma.”

You knew you had to look like a wreck, you hadn’t had time to look in a mirror on your way down, but you knew that you must look like a complete mess.

Jordan brought you into a hug before you could do anything about it her little arms squeezing your body as tightly as you thought she could manage.

She forced her way into the house before you could say anything about it, walking her way into the kitchen and leaving you close the door behind her.

“Le said you were out last night.”

You followed your ma into the kitchen, walking straight to the coffee pot.

“You want coffe?”

Jordan had always been the stricter of your two parents, probably because she saw you less, Leah was the one who had to do the hard yards, constantly fighting with you over the biggest and smallest things.

“Tea please, how late where you out till, who were you with?”

You turned the machine on, trying to hide your annoyance at the immediate interrogation.

“Did you come here to see me or question my choices?”

You pulled two mugs from the shelf, reaching for the kettle and pouring enough water in before reaching for a tea bag.

“I came here to see you chicky, and catch up with you, I want to hear about what’s been going on.”

You dropped the tea bag into the cup, reaching across the island to hand it to your ma.

“I was out with a few friends.”

You pulled your vape out of your pocket, hoping that it would help to soothe the insistent memory of the events of last night and push it from the forefront of your mind.

“What’s that?”

You looked up at Jordan curiously, one of your own eyebrows raising.

“What’s what?”

You looked back at the coffee machine, watching as your mug slowly began to fill up with the brown mixture.

“Since when do you vape?”

You pulled your mug out from the machine, setting down on the island so you were facing your ma.

“A couple of months, why?”

You reached for the sugar container, taking the spoon out of it and dropping two spoonfuls in.

“Does your mother know?”

The shock in Jordan’s voice was so obvious.

“Yup.”

It was all good and well for Jordan to judge Leah’s decisions with parenting you, but at the end of day she’d been the one to leave, refusing to take you with her, insisting that life in London was better for you and that passing you back and forth between Birmingham and London every week wouldn’t be fair, she left you.

“How’s football been?”

The pivot in conversation should have helped, but you knew that it wouldn’t as soon as the words had left her mouth.

“I stopped playing.”

Jordan frowned at you.

“Since when?”

You brought the coffee up to your lips, finding solace in the warm liquid.

“A while ago.”

You wished she’d drop the topic, she seemed to be becoming more disappointed by the minute.

“Why, you were great, you were one of the best a the academy.”

You were one of the best because Leah spent all of her afternoons coaching you, because she knew the coaches, because she knew what she had to do to make you better, not because you were naturally gifted or because it came easy to you.

“I didn’t want to.”

You ried to answer her with some finality, to make her drop it and move on.

“How about school, how are your gcse’s going?”

You wanted to lie to her and tell her it was good, that you were on track to get all A stars like you’d planned.

“I don’t think I’m going to do them, my attendance isn’t high enough.”

Jordan’s face plummeted, her jaw going slack as she looked at you.

“What? I thought you wanted to go to college, that you were planning on doing medicine or law or english lit.”

You hated that Jordan had this preconceived version of you in her head, from when she left, from when she used to travel every weekend to see you, when you were doing everything to try and be the perfect kid for the both of them.

“Plans change.”

You kept your eyes downcast, scared to look at her and absorb the disappointment.

“What do you plan to do, without an education and your football? Do you plan to just live with your mother forever? Do you plan to use her until she’s old and retired? You can’t just live your life like that chicky, you need a goal, a aspiration, something you want to do with your life.”

It was the same conversation Leah had tried to have with you, one you’d ignored.

“I know ma.”

Jordan looked at you with disapproval.

“It doesn’t seem like you do, what are your plans, what are you spending all of your time doing?”

Getting high, crying, regretting your existence.

“I don’t know Ma, look, you don’t get to come here for the first time in a month and try to act like you give a shit about what’s going on, Mom’s been through it and I’ve been trying to support her, I’ll figure it all out later.”

Jordan looked dismayed, to say the least, her finger twirling the teabag inside of her cup aimlessly.

“Lovey, your mom is in a lot of pain right now, she doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of, I understand you might be going through your own pain but it’d be nice if you could try and be a bit better for her.”

You wanted to yell at jordan, tell her that you were hardly the fucking problem, but you couldn’t, not when everything that had happened in the last 24 hours was circulating non stop in your mind.

“Look, I understand that I’m not the kid you wanted, that I stopped playing football and I’m not doing what you wanted me to.”

Jordan stopped you before you could say much more.

“No it’s just that months ago you were fit, you were reading and writing and playing football, you were smiling and spending all of your spare time with your mom and now it’s like all of that’s changed and you’ve just become this person I don’t know anymore. Can you blame me for being surprised? This isn’t you, This isn’t my kid, this just isn’t you, chicky.”

You couldn’t look at Jordan, you just couldn’t.

“You have no fucking idea what’s going on, you’re never here, the only time you give a fuck about my life is when it’s convenient for you and when you get to judge it. I’m not your kid anymore, you don’t fucking love me, you haven’t wanted me for a long time.”

Jordan recoiled at your words.

“First of all, don’t swear at me, I hope you don’t talk to your mother that way. Secondly, that’s not true and not fair. I’m here as often as I can be. I love you chick, I just think you could be making better decisions. Where were you last night?”

You rolled your eyes, you felt frantic, you could feel your heart beating in your ear and the blood pumping through your veins.

“That’s such bullshit. Trips to Spain to see Lucy are more important then me, huh? Trips to Ibiza to hang out with Caitlin and Katie are more important than me? You criticise the decisions mom has made but you aren’t here, you don’t understand what it’s like.”

Your hands were shaking so badly you had to put your coffee down, the liquid having spilt slightly down onto the countertop.

“Where were you last night, lovey?”

The question made you feel like you needed to puke, and for a second you thought it was just a feeling, but then you felt the bile rising and you realised it wasn’t just a feeling, you were about to vomit.

You rushed from the kitchen as quickly as your weary body would allow, your legs shaking underneath you, threatening to give out, taunting you from below.

You made it to the toilet bowl just in time for your jaw to go slack and the bile that had been rising in your throat to splat against the porcelain. You didn’t look at it, you couldn’t, knowing that it was probably evidence of what had happened last night, the alcohol, him.

You didn’t need to see Jordan to know she was waiting at the door behind you. It was the last way you wanted to spend your couple of hours with her, but it didn’t really matter now you supposed.

You knew you were done when the pressure in your throat dissipated and you finally felt like you could breathe again. You pushed yourself up, flushing the toilet before turning around to look at Jordan.

Your Ma reached out for you first, her hand coming up to your face, gently pressing onto your cheek.

“It’s alright bubba, I’m here, you’re okay, I’m sorry.”

Jordan’s arms opened up and without hesitation you leaned in, seeking out comfort that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The hug didn’t provide the love you were yearning for, it didn’t soothe the part of you that was hurting, but it did patch a hole inside of you somewhere.

You were far taller than Jordan, but she somehow made you feel like a little kid again, your head coming to rest down on her shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the couch and we’ll talk, huh, one on one, no judgement.”

You felt eight again as Jordan lead you over to the same couch. You felt how you did when you were eight, when your moms sat you down and promised you that they would always be a safe space for you, that you could tell them anything about the past and they wouldn’t judge you and that they’d always be proud of you no matter what, you felt how you did at 12 when your moms sat you down to let you know that the academy had asked them if you wanted to play with them, you felt how you did at 14 when your moms sat you down to let you know that your teacher wanted to put you up a form at school. Except everything was different, it wasn’t your moms, there was nothing to be proud of, nothing for them to tell you you were doing good at.

Jordan sat you down, your head pressed to her shoulder.

“I’m sorry that I was rough on you, okay? I don’t know what’s going on, I’m not here as much as I should be. Can you tell me about last night, bubba, please?”

You didn’t get why she cared so much, your mom hardly cared what you did on your nights out as long as you were home by your curfew and stayed safe.

“I went to a party, okay? It’s no big deal.”

You heard Jordan exhale next to you.

“You didn’t do anything stupid?”

You wondered what Jordan would define as stupid.

“I drank a little, smoked a bit of pot, normal teenage shit.”

You wanted it to be the truth, desperately, but it wasn’t.

“That’s it?”

Jordan knew you were lying, she’d always been better at telling, Leah on the other hand wasn’t as practised in being able to detect when lies were falling freely from your lips.

“Yes, for fucks sakes.”

Jordan only tightened her embrace around you, bringing her as close to you as possible. Leah had stopped hugging you like this when she’d done her knee, it had become harder and she knew you were growing up, she didn’t think you needed her in that way anymore, she was so incredibly wrong.

“Okay, I’m sorry chicky, I’ll stop with the questions. Let’s just have a you and me day, huh? Like we used to. We can go to the cafe that you like and down to the beach, whatever you want, just a you and me day.”

You didn’t want any of that.

“Can’t we just stay on the couch.”

You heard jordan chuckle a little bit.

“How about we go and get breakfast and then we can have a movie day, or we can catch up on the episodes of Love Island, I haven’t gotten to watching the new season yet.”

You didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted to stay in your safe space, up in your room on your windowsill.

“Do we have to.”

Jordan nodded from above you.

“Fresh air will be good for you. Plus, you want to get a mean hangover then that’s your own fault chicky, it’s best to learn the hard way. Head upstairs and get changed, I need to talk to your mom real quick.”

You wanted to stick around to hear what Jordan planned to tell your mom, but you didn’t want to wreck whatever you had going with her, so you just nodded your head and stood up, beginning the walk back up to your room.

You hated looking at yourself in the mirror.

Because you could act like you were fine, you could pretend you were put together and had your life together and fool yourself but as soon as you were forced to look at yourself it all was clear. There was truth in your eyes and the way they made your body look so vacant, so eerie, it was as if they were the sign that there was no life left inside of you.

You’d always felt out of place no matter where you were, like you never truly belonged. You’d always felt like you were one of those tragic people with no storyline, so you lived watching other people, living through them. To start with it had been your moms, watching how much they loved each other, how they looked at each other, how they spoe about each other, like you were a background character in their story. It worked for a long time, until it didn’t. Until they split up, until you were forced to heal all over again from the home that was breaking around you. All the things you’d been running from before them were back, and instead of feeling like you were safe you knew you weren’t, you knew that no matter how loved you’d felt for the longest time, you weren’;t anymore, you didn’t get to live vicariously through their love.

You scrubbed your face without any real care, scrubbing the makeup, mascara and tears from last night off of your face.

Once you were content that the were physically gone, even if it mentally didn’t feel that way, you stood up from the basin and dried your face, hoping the patting would somehow strip the pain that was painted across your skin, it didn’t.

You moved to your wardrobe next, picking out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, as well as your thickest winter jacket. It was the same thing you wore every time your mom forced you out of the house to go on some stupid errand with her or some random appointment. You picked out a comfy enough pair of trainers before pushing your hair into a bun and walking back down the stairs.

Your Ma was talking hushedly into her phone, and put it down as soon as she spotted you descending the stairs.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, one of your eyebrows up in questioning as you stared at your Ma’s phone.

“I was just checking in with your mom, she says they should be back around lunch time.”

Then Jordan would leave, like she always did.

“I’m not a chore, if you don’t want to hangout with me then you don’t have to be here, I can be left alone for a couple of hours.”

Jordan exhaled, deep enough for a few seconds to linger.

“That’s not fair, I’m here kiddo, I want to spend some time with you.”

You pulled your vape out of your pocket, Jordan could tell when you were lying and you could tell when she was.

“No, you have to spend time with me until mom is back, there is a difference.”

In the beginning, Jordan would come down every weekend, no matter where her game was, just to spend time with her little chicky, as the months and year had passed though, her time with you had become shorter and shorter until you’d only see her if she had a game in London.

“I don’t care, I get it, you’re busy with your new life, it’s whatever. Let’s just get this over and done with.”

Jordan looked like she wanted to say something, but the frown you sent her must have been enough of a silencer.

The two of you walked out the front door silent, down the street silent, all the way to the cafe, completely silent, the only sound to be heard was the cars going by, the sounds of your breathing and the repetitive puff of your lips as you pressed the vape to your lips. If you couldn’t have drugs then it was going to have to do.

When you got to the cafe you had enough courtesy to shove it in your pocket, focusing your attention on your Ma as much as you hated it.

She ordered you your normal, you were surprised she remembered.

“How’d the game go last night?”

You hadn’t tuned into either games, you’d had other things on your mind.

“We drew, it was a good game though.”

You nodded, it didn’t matter much in the scheme of things, Aston Villa weren’t in a title race, weren’t in contention for a trophy of any kind but also weren’t at any real risk of relegation, they were just mid.

“How about mom?”

Leah wasn’t playing, but a part of you still cared about how her team had gone.

“They won, 1-2 to man city.”

You nodded, that was something.

Your food arrived which was a good enough distraction, both you and Jordan focusing your attention on the meals in front of you. A couple of years ago, all of your sunday mornings had been spent here with your two moms, nowadays if you went, which was rare, it was by yourself.

The meal went on in awkward silence, the both of you clearly unsure how to deal with the pent up awkwardness that had been developing since you’d left the house.

The meal dragged on until the two of you couldn’t pretend any longer and called it done, the two of you standing up and leaving in the same silence you’d entered.

You didn’t mind the silence, it hurt, but not in the same way that it normally did, you were less alone than normal, you felt less out of place then normal.

You were silently praying that your mom got home earlier than expected, to give you the same normal, painful consistency that you were used to instead of this, instead of whatever it is that Jordan was pulling out of you.

The two of you walked back to the house in silence, once upon a time Blu would have been walking in front of you, her little legs patting across the concrete, nowadays though Blu stayed in Birmingham, with Jordan. Leah claimed she didn’t have time for a dog, it had always been Jordan’s thing though.

When you got back to the house, you collapsed down onto the sofa, flicking on a episode of love island before opening up your phone and starting to answer the multiple texts which you’d been leaving on delivered.

First, you replied to your friends, letting them know you were fine and just needed to be home before your curfew, then your mom, letting her know you were fine. Once you were finished updating all of your people, you moved onto aimlessly scrolling, flicking through different social media posts.

Jordan eventually joined you on the couch, her attention on the episode.

You didn’t miss the way her eyes would stray towards you every few seconds, darting away from the tv screen to look at you. It seemed like she was hesitating to say something, like there words on the tip of tongue that she was too scared to say. Jordan was always the silent one, even as you watched your moms relationship die out, she was always the quiet one, Leah on the other hand was always the loud one, always trying to fix problems that were unfixable.

You wanted to prompt her, ask her what her apparent problem was, but you stayed silent, muzzling yourself for the good of keeping whatever peace there was between the two of you.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME YOUR PART THREE IDEAS, KEEPING IN MIND THAT LEAH POTENTIALLY FINDS OUT ABOUT RS WEED USAGE AND CONFRONTS HER ABOUT IT BUT DOESN'T KNOW ABOUT THE DRUGS

#woso #woso community #sammykworshipper thoughts #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #jordan nobbs x reader #jordan and leah #jordan nobbs #wobbs breakup #it’s painful #i’m crying so are u #trauma dumping #pain sweet pain #woso imagine

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odiesdayoff · 2 months ago

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Kinktober: Tommy Shelby

Pair: Modern!Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: Your roommate's father doesn't approve of your vape.

Warning: Age Gap/Best friend's father/Dubious Consent/Tom makes reader get high

“I found it!” You yelled from across the dorm, your head poking out from behind the bed. Still partially stuck between the bed and the wall, you held up your strawberry-flavored weed pen to show Charlie. The amount of anxiety that losing it gave you was enough to realize that you and your roommate may have gotten a bit too reliant on the drug.

You brought the pen to your mouth, but Charlie slapped it from your hand. “Dude, my family will be here in minutes! It can’t smell like Ganja Gooch in here.”

“What? You don’t have weed up in Birmingham?” You laughed. From what you knew about his family, they weren’t the most…clean cut people in the world. Why would they be upset over something so trivial as a weed pen? In your two years of being best friends with Charlie, you’d never met his parents. Only his Aunt Ada, who was sweet.

He placed the pen on your dresser. “Shut up. When are you parents coming?”

Most of the already small dorm room was covered in boxes, trash bags, and miscellaneous crap. “At 5. You’ll probably be moved out by then.” You pocketed the pen and began folding your bedding to shove it into the box it originally came in.

His phone started to ring. “That’s my mum. Are you sure you can’t go to Mary’s dorm?” You still weren’t sure of the reason that he was so cagey about his family. He had been to your house over Spring break this year and you were still in the dark.

“I have to finish packing.” It wasn’t a lie, you had put off packing until the final day. Studying for exams and final papers took up all of your free time. That and Mario Kart.

You knew that Charlie came from a rich family, but this was a new level that you haven't seen before. His father dressed like he was from the 1920’s or something, with a full suit and peaky cap. You could smell the cigarette smoke infused into his clothes before you could see him.

His mother (or maybe step-mother, you weren’t sure) wore an elegant dress that was both fashionable and functional. Her deep brown hair was curled and pinned back. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you. “You must be the infamous Y/n!” She pulled you into a hug and you could smell her perfume mixed with a bit of her husband’s smoke. “You’re even prettier in person than in those silly Instagram photos Charlie posts.”

“It’s really lovely to meet you, Mrs. Shelby. I can’t believe we’ve been friends for so long and have never met before.” Charlie was still holding the door open for his little sister, Ruby, and didn’t hear your diss.

She waved you off. “Call me Lizzie, dear. This is Thomas.” She pulled the sleeve of her husband and made him face you. He barely looked at you, though you did notice the way his eyes lowered down your body.

“I still don’t see why we had to be the ones to move Charles out, Lizzie. We can pay people for that.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he understand sentimentality and actually being present in the pivotal moments of his only son’s life? He only had one more year of university left. It was strange to hear him be called Charles. It felt all too fancy for someone so…normal. I suppose his father wouldn’t say the same.

Lizzie scoffed. “Just start moving boxes, Tom.” She turned back to you. “So, where are you from?”

You decided to ignore Thomas. “Norwich.”

Charlie handed a smaller bag to Ruby while Thomas took a storage container. He pulled out his ID and opened the front door for the three of them. “The elevator’s already broken, so it’s lucky we’re on the first floor.”

Having Charlie’s side of the room empty was a surreal sight. So many memories that were made in the room were basically erased at this point.

You took the pen and opened a window, taking it in and blowing it out the window. “And here I thought you were little miss sunshine.” You began to cough and gasp for fresh air at the sudden voice. Turning around, you locked eyes not with Charlie, but with his father.

Smoke billowed from your mouth. “Mr. Shelby- I…thought you all had left.” You rasped out the words, reaching for a water bottle to try and soothe your throat. He smirked at your attempt to hide your distress.

“My wife left her purse. I see you didn’t waste a second with your…” He snatched the pen from your hand. “What is this? Can’t you get real weed here?”

“It’s easier to manage. And rechargeable.” He examined the pen, shaking his head. He brought the pen to his lips and took a hit. The smoke left his mouth in a way you’d never seen before. It was skilled, he didn’t even cough. It formed into rings that blew in your direction.

“Can barely taste it. How much weed is actually in this?” He examines the pen, and then his glance shifts towards you. "I bet you can barely take it, yeah?"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not that intolerant. I've been high before."

He tosses it to you. "Suck in until it blinks."

It was a bit of a surprise that he knew what a blinker even was. He seemed like the type to exclusively use one brand of cigarettes since he was a teenager. As if he'd step foot in one of the fancy dispensaries you and Charlie were used to.

You maintained eye contact as you put the tip of the pen in your mouth and began to suck the flavored smoke from it. It took only a few seconds for it to blink and you could finally exhale. It was as if your lungs had never touched oxygen before. They screamed at you to cough, but you didn't want to prove him right.

"Another." He ordered, taking a small step closer. You weren't sure if he was getting taller or if it was just a mix of weed and perspective.

The vape was already hot as you rested it on your bottom lip. You breathed in again, holding it until it blinked. The taste was much worse and the sting against your throat felt like fresh salt in an open wound.

You coughed, only once. Typically, it took you much longer to feel the instant effects of the drug, but you could feel your hands already trembling under the eye of Thomas.

He nodded, finally close enough to put his calloused hands on the soft skin of your waist. "Again."

Something about his gaze and the absolution in his voice made it impossible for you to deny what he wanted. Your shaky hand held the vape up and you sucked.

His slightly chapped lips pressed against yours once you took the pen from your mouth. All of the smoke leaving your system funneled into his. You couldn't deny the way his contact made your knees weak and thighs squeeze together.

The weed was taking effect rapidly. Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on him. His lips traveled from your lips to your cheek to your ear. "Tell me, have you and Charles ever had sex?"

The words briefly brought you out of the weed and lust-driven stupor. You shook your head. "No...we're just friends."

He laughed. "Are you gay?" You denied. "Is he gay?" Again, you denied. "How has he not ever taken the chance to bed you?"

You could barely answer. His hand trailed up your leg and under your thin dress. Nothing could hide the heat that emanated from between your legs.

His free hand took the vape from yours and pressed it against your lips. Instinctively, you took a deep breath in, letting the smoke fill your aching lungs once again. "Is it because you're a virgin? Or maybe...you have an affinity for older men?"

You nearly stopped feeling the warmth of his hand on your leg until he pressed his fingers against the now-damp fabric of your panties. It was humiliating how much he turned you on...and how much the feeling of being humiliated by him turned you on even more.

"Mr. Shelby.." You coughed out, your throat sore and stinging with each syllable. As much as you wanted to scream at him to actually touch you, it would be too much to say at once.

Thomas Shelby wasn't a mind-reader, but he could read when a woman wanted him. He slipped his fingers underneath your panties and pushed into you. Your slick cunt welcomed him in without resistance at all. "Want me to stop? Leaving you high and horny while I go back to my wife and children?"

You shook your head no, silently pleading for him to do something over then idly have his fingers knuckle-deep within you. He curled his fingers, hitting the spots that your own hand couldn't reach if you tried, and moaned into his shoulder.

"Take another and I'll keep giving you what you want." Dazed, you sucked more from the pen. It was far more than you were used to, especially in such a short amount of time. Your legs threatened to give out, for multiple reasons.

"Please..." Your fingers lightly caressed his pants. It had been a while since you had anyone touch you, let alone someone like him.

He got the idea, pulled his hand away, and quickly freed himself from the confines of his trousers. There were condoms somewhere in this room, hidden in one of the boxes so your family wouldn't see that you even thought about something as evil as sex.

There wasn't time to look. You needed him now and it was only a matter of time before Charlie and the rest of them got suspicious. You pulled your panties down to your ankles and allowed his knee to settle between your trembling legs.

His lips trailed against your ear. "I'm going to show you a real high."

#thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #kinktober #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #odiesdayoff

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fratttymatty · 10 days ago

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You're Smoked

(All characters are 18+)

It was just another quiet Tuesday evening when everything changed for Quinn, Eric, and Alex. The three 29-year-old nerdy best friends had always been inseparable. They spent their nights playing video games, debating superheroes, and diving into comic book lore. Life was predictable, comfortable, and easy.

That was, of course, until Quinn discovered a peculiar game at the local thrift store. "The Alteration," the box proclaimed, adorned with strange glowing symbols that beckoned them like some irresistible mystery. The trio wasn't into supernatural gimmicks or odd fads, but it was a game, and that was all the convincing they needed.

They gathered at Quinn's apartment, excitement buzzing in the air as they set up the game on his coffee table. It was more complex than they expected—dice with too many sides to count, cards, and tokens scattered across the table. But there was something captivating about it. The kind of feeling that made you ignore any misgivings and dive in.

Each took a turn, rolling the dice, drawing cards, and following instructions. The game progressed—strange, but harmless enough. That is, until they each drew the same card: "Transformation."

In an instant, the room seemed to warp, and a tingling sensation spread through their bodies. It wasn’t painful, just dizzying, like waking from a dream where everything felt off. And then—poof—it was done.

The trio looked at each other in confusion, but the first thing they noticed was how completely different they looked.

Zane—formerly Quinn—was the first to speak, his voice a low, cool drawl that didn’t even sound like him anymore. His once-thin frame had morphed into a broad, muscular build, and his hair was now a wild, tousled mess of brown waves that looked like they hadn’t been touched by a comb in years. His sharp jawline was prominent, and his once-framed glasses had disappeared, replaced by a pair of dark sunglasses that now sat comfortably on his nose.

He was wearing a white t-shirt, but it was simple—just a plain, snug fit that clung to his chest and shoulders. His jeans, baggy and worn-in, hung loosely from his hips as if they were the most natural thing in the world. Everything about his new body felt strong, confident, and unmistakably cocky.

Zane didn’t even think twice before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a vape. Without hesitation, he took a deep drag, the cool mint flavor swirling in his lungs before he blew out a thick cloud. He smirked at the feeling of the nicotine buzz. It felt right. Too right.

Brad—formerly Eric—looked down at his body, which had transformed in ways he could barely comprehend. His hair, once neatly styled and short, was now a tousled brown mess, still kind of messy but somehow perfectly styled in that carefree, too-cool-for-school way. His chest was now broad, and the sleeveless hoodie he wore was so tight on his biceps, it looked like it might rip at any moment. The rest of his body was covered by black sweatpants that hung low on his waist, his legs thick and athletic. His confident grin was now permanent, like he was daring someone to challenge him.

Brad's hands automatically went to his pocket and pulled out a vape of his own, the smooth, sleek device fitting perfectly in his grip. He took a puff, exhaling the smoke slowly, and felt a rush of satisfaction flood through his body. He looked at Zane, nodding in approval. "This is living, man."

Jared—formerly Alex—felt the change as well, looking at his reflection with a stunned grin. His hair had transformed into a messy, tousled dirty blonde wave, perfect for someone who spent their days outside and had no care for combing it. His physique was now long, lean, and athletic, with strong shoulders and toned legs. He wore a white t-shirt, but this one had a yellow and purple design on the front—loud and attention-grabbing, exactly the opposite of his old style.

His jeans were baggy, the kind that hung low on his hips, and they felt more comfortable than anything he’d ever worn. He wasn’t used to the carefree, devil-may-care attitude, but right now, he didn’t care. It was like he had been reborn, and he liked it. A lot.

He pulled out his vape, taking a smooth drag as the buzz filled him. "Dude, this is awesome," he said, watching as the vapor swirled in the air before dissipating. "We’re unstoppable."

The three of them looked at each other for a long moment. The lives they had known—playing board games, chatting about nerdy topics, debating superheroes—felt so distant now, like they were from someone else. Instead, their new reality—their new selves—felt exciting and irresistible. They felt alive, like the world was theirs for the taking.

"Let’s hit the gym, grab some food, and maybe hit up the beach later," Zane said, already starting to walk toward the door, his voice confident and smooth.

Brad nodded. "Hell yeah. I feel like I could bench press a car right now."

Jared laughed, taking another long drag of his vape. "Yeah, let’s go mess around. I’m down for anything."

And just like that, the three of them—Zane, Brad, and Jared—walked out into the night, completely unconcerned with who they used to be. Their new lives were everything they had dreamed of, and they were ready to embrace it all.

But as they made their way toward the local gym, they didn’t expect what happened next: the moment they stepped onto the sidewalk, a group of girls appeared out of nowhere.

They were tall, blonde, and bubbly, their smiles wide and bright. They giggled as they approached, their eyes locking onto the trio with obvious interest.

The first girl, a bubbly blonde with a ponytail, nudged her friend and giggled. "Hey, guys! You’re looking cute tonight," she said to Zane, her voice sweet and airy.

Zane grinned, the cocky smirk never leaving his face. "Thanks, babe," he said, flipping his sunglasses down and taking another puff from his vape.

Brad raised an eyebrow at the girls and winked, adjusting his sweatpants. "What’s up, ladies? You want to hang out?" His voice oozed confidence as he looked them over.

Jared chuckled, his hand moving to the back of his head as he rocked on his heels. "Yeah, you girls look fun. Wanna come grab some smoothies or something?" he offered with a mischievous grin, his tone laid-back.

The girls giggled in response, looking like they’d hit the jackpot. "Totally," the blonde with the ponytail agreed. "You guys are so cute. We should hang out!"

It was a perfect moment—everything was exactly how they’d imagined their new lives would be. And as they all walked off together, Zane, Brad, and Jared realized that the changes weren’t just physical. They were free—free to be the people they had always wanted to be, no regrets, no looking back.

There was no turning back now. The past was nothing but a distant memory. And with their new, ditzy valley girlfriends in tow, life had never felt so thrilling.

(from left to right: Brad, Jared, Zane)

#male tf #male tf story #gay to straight #nerd to jock #smart to dumb #gym bro tf #scally tf

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dollieseo · 1 month ago

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SHE’S MY COLLAR ╱ YU JIMIN.

05. outside the bar (written chapter)

there’s something about the way lucky 8 enter a room that catches everyone’s attention; whether it’s yunjin loudly announcing their entrance to everyone in the building, or jooyeon making conversation with everyone in his vicinity, or just the group’s visual presence; black eyeliner, leather jackets and dyed hair.

the group makes their way to a booth in the back, which feels routinely, even at a new bar. it’s only minutes before drinks are flowing and conversations between the group are brewing.

yuqi, sitting in the middle, had the best view of the entrance. she watches as a group of girls walk in, she instantly recognizes one of the girls. “hey, isn’t that karina?” she sudden asks, raising her eyebrows towards the entrance.

“where?” everyone full stops and looks where yuqi is pointing. yunjin looks a bit frantic before catching them. she give the girl who’s locking arms with karina a smile and a wave.

y/n intriguingly watches the whole encounter. the girl nudges karina and points towards their table. karina looks stunned seeing the band, but another girl with orange hair notices and instantly directs the group to a table on the opposite side of the bar.

“what was that about?” beomgyu questions.

y/n shrugs and takes a sip of strawberry jinro. “do you know those other girls?” she asks yunjin. she only recognized karina, obviously, shuhua, who talked about y/n and karina on her livestream, and yeji, the orange haired girl.

“the girl standing next to karina is giselle,” yunjin answers.

“is she the one you have a crush on?” beomgyu teases, causing y/n to snort. yunjin, sitting next to him, sways him on the shoulder, “i do NOT have a crush on her.”

“sure,” jooyeon draws out, refilling everyone’s glasses with more alcohol.

“shuhua, the girl who does the livestreams, is with them too,” yuqi adds.

“the girl with the bob looks like she was forced to be here,” beomgyu laughs.

y/n knew from the first time she got drunk, when she was sixteen, that she’s two types of drunk: flirty and sleepy. she only had three cups of soju but she began to feel the weight of it, eyes heavy and feeling the need to rest her head on her palm.

y/n sighs before abrupt standing up, gaining the attention of everyone else at the table, “‘m gonna step outside for a minute, need a cigarette,” she announce, a small slur in her words.

“i thought you quit,” jooyeon jokes. the members, mainly yuqi, having been pestering y/n to quit “killing herself with a cancer stick”. she did agree at some point, but everyone knew it was bullshit when they saw her open a pack the next day.

y/n rolls her eyes, “forgot my vape at home,” she retorts, which jooyeon cackles at. sensing no other protest, y/n leaves and makes her way outside, stepping off to the side of the building. the cool breeze brushes against her face, waking her up a bit.

she takes a box of cigarettes out of her leather jacket pocket and carefully pulls one out. she’s cautious about it now because of the one time aggressively tried to pull one and pulled every stick out of the pack and onto the floor. she brings the cigarette to her lips before switching the pack for her lighter. her body eases at the slight warmth coming from the fire and she lights her cigarette.

the nicotine filling her system doesn’t give her the euphoric feeling it used to, but smoking felt too routinely for her to stop. she revels in the city lights decorating the streets and lets the sound city life consume her ears.

she doesn’t really pay attention the sound of the bar door open, not until whoever walks out stands near her. noticing someone in the corner of her eye, y/n glances to the side to see no one other than karina timidly standing next to her.

“tired of your friends?” y/n asks amusingly, turning towards her. she leaning her left shoulder against the wall and lazily holds the cigarette in her right hand.

“yeah─ no, i mean,” y/n’s smug face doesn’t ease her nerves but she takes a deep breathe before correcting herself, “it’s not like that, i’m just tired.”

“you’re driving home?” y/n questions, and karina shakes her head, “no, i just called an uber.”

y/n hums and the both of them turn back towards the streets, taking another drag of her cigarette. the two fall silent for a moment and the sound of the busy street replaces it.

“hey um,” karina starts, turning towards you again, “i’m sorry about the whole twitter thing.”

y/n glances at her, “what’s there to be sorry for?”

“i just, didn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable,” karina says sheepishly, looking down at her feet.

“m’ not,” y/n shrugs before fully turning her head towards her, “are you uncomfortable?”

karina looks a bit stunned as y/n’s gaze pierces into her eyes. there’s a hint of mischief that karina can sense from her.

“i’m a little embarrassed,” she admits.

y/n takes one last drag of her cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stepping on it. she takes a few steps closer towards the other girl before gently wrapping her arms around her. karina’s eyes widen at the sudden interaction but finds no reason to pull away, letting her head ease into y/n’a chest.

“no need to be embarrassed, rina,” y/n says softly, and karina swears her heart drops hearing the nickname, “i’m flattered.”

a million things run through karina’s mind, the main one being ‘i can’t believe this is happening right now’. her celebrity crush is hugging her right now, all because shuhua wanted to embarrass her online. maybe she’ll thank shuhua for that later.

the moment is ruined by a vehicle pulling up in front of the building. the girls pull away from each other and karina frowns realizing that it’s her uber.

y/n’s face falters as well, though it’s not as noticeable, rolling her eyes and sending a quick glare towards the car. she huffs and suddenly sticks her hand out towards karina.

“give me your phone.”

karina tilts her head and her lips slightly part. she blinks twice, clearly confused.

“give me you phone,” y/n repeats, a hint of irritation in her tone. this time, karina obliges, pulling the device out of her pocket and handing it to her. she watches as the light from the screen glows in her crush’s face, silently admiring her features.

when y/n hands her her phone back, she’s shocked to her y/n’s phone number saved in her contacts.

“text me when you get home okay?” y/n sends her another small smile.

karina, still starstruck, doesn’t question why. she can only mindlessly nod and watch y/n walk back into the building before getting in the backseat of the uber.

PREVIOUS ╱ MASTERLIST ╱ NEXT

TAGLIST

@saysirhc @yoontoonwhs @xinyusgf @r4cjh @aliceiwk @yeetaberry127 @hwm1hyun @drvirgus @winieter @wonybaee @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @gtfoiydlyj

a/n: this is so rushed i kinda hate it but wtv 😪

#𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 ╱ 𝐘𝐔 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍.#aespa karina #aespa x reader #aespa smau #karina #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin #kpop smau #gxg #kpop #kpop fic #wlw #aespa #aespa fic

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freak-accident419 · 5 months ago

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playing cards

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

(gif by @joshfutturman) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | More parts coming soon

Summary: When his mother hosts a party and expects him to bring a proper date, Derek is obligated to comply. Not wanting to disappoint her any further (mainly driven by the rumor of her cutting him off), Derek recruits his best friend to pose as his fake partner. However, the two have to keep up this lie when a series of constant, luxurious events are held, causing several shenanigans to ensue.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content: gender-neutral reader, swearing, reader is his best friend, Derek’s mommy issues, fake dating

Ao3 Link

(A/n: this is my first miniseries!! I will also be posting this on Ao3, so please show your support there as well. Thank you to everybody who showed me love and support. Special thanks to Skye especially :) enjoy!!)

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have a flat white with oat milk. You know, the usual.”

For the most part, Derek would go about his usual schedule, which deprived of responsibility and stress. In fact, his recent routine invariably consisted of privileged luxuries, little to no work tasks, and drunken parties every night.

Phone in hand, Derek skated through the office on his skateboard as he waited for the drink that he ordered at the coffee bar. He checked for any texts until he swiped out of the Messages app to surf through his social media. And as he tapped through his friends’ stories on Instagram, video footage that caused Derek to reminisce the events of last night’s party took over his screen.

It was a typical night out for him, actually. He would invite his group of friends to clubs or venues and indulge in the colorful strobe lights, bass-boosted music, and alcoholic drinks. You had always tagged along with him, as you were his best friend, getting drunk and partying together. Every night, he would get abysmally wasted and driven home by his employees. Ultimately, “reckless” was nearly an understatement to describe Derek Danforth—alongside irresponsible and hedonistic.

He smirked at the Instagram stories that his friends had posted of him taking a body shot off of a skimpy stripper. Ultimately, you took the best video of the scene because unlike the other posted videos, the camera was much clearer and barely shaking. Chuckling to himself as he hears your voice chanting for him in the video, he tucked his phone back in his pocket and skated back to the counter to retrieve his coffee.

“Flat white with oa—”

“Beautiful, thank you,” he replies dismissively, grabbing the cup that the worker handed him and continued to skate along the hallway, past several other employees.

Expecting the next hour to be full of pampering and Tibetan singing bowls, a stern, yet familiarly lavish voice suddenly stops him in his tracks.

“Derek.” The young billionaire stiffens at the sound of his name being called. “May I have a word?”

An irritated sigh left Derek’s lips as he stood still on his skateboard, neglecting to turn his head around to face the older man. He then rolls his eyes and finally got off of his skateboard, kicking it up in his hand.

***

“You have to clean up your act, young man,” Westwyld states as Derek slouches pettishly in his chair.

Great. It was just another one of his needless lectures again. Why did he even bother? From the moment Derek walked into Westwyld’s dreadful office, he already sensed that he would be given another ‘serious talk’ from the man who tries to act like his father after having a romantic past with his mom.

In response to his useless demand, Derek scoffs with a smug curl on his lips, taking a short drag from his vape pen. It was almost amusing to him that Wallace believed his lectures would give him the slightest motivation to “do better.”

“Isn’t your job covering up my ‘fuckups’? Keeping me out of the tabloids and the headlines, keeping my reputation clean?” He sneered, impatient with the predictable redundancy that Westwyld brought onto him. “Isn’t that all you’re good for?”

Westwyld sighs, not very keen on having to explain himself for the thousandth time. “Derek, my job is to keep Danforth Enterprises safe, to keep your mother safe. Her reputation, her name. For thirty-five years, I worked as the director of the world’s intelligence agency, but I chose this job as a favor to your mother.”

Derek rolled his eyes carelessly. It was the same, bothersome routine when Wallace would scold him and then run his mouth about how he could have had any other job, but chose security for Danforth Enterprises for the sake of President Jessica Danforth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you tell me this for, like, a billion fucking times,” Derek retorts with a harsh scoff, “You know what, I don’t have the fucking time for this.”

He stood up instantly, storming off until Wallace’s next words made him freeze, bringing a chill up his spine.

“Your mother’s thinking of cutting you off, you know that?”

Derek processed Westwyld’s words for a second, sensing the threat behind it. His own mother wouldn’t do that to him. She completely adores him. Right? It was just another empty threat—everything had always worked out for Derek in the long run. So he kept his cool as always, scoffing in disbelief with a breathy chuckle. “Um, no. No, she’s not. She wouldn’t.” He turned around to face Wallace, walking back up to him.

“Everybody’s talking about it, Derek. A rumor, you would call it, but she spoke to her advisers. Money may play a big role in the grand scheme of things, but public image as well. I cannot keep covering for you, Derek. The endless social media posts of your immature, juvenile actions, the soirées, the strippers, it’s getting out of control,” Wallace spat sourly, evidently sick of Derek’s shenanigans and recklessness. “Even the tiniest information can spill, and your reputation will grow rotten. And your reputation is your mother’s. I won’t let you take this risk, Derek, you need to clean up your act now.”

***

Derek left Westwyld’s office slightly pissed, sipping his coffee as he rode through the hallway once again in his skateboard. Suddenly he felt his phone buzzing, so he grabbed it out of his pocket to look who was calling him.

Well, shit. Speak of the fucking devil.

It was his mother.

Taking a deep breath, Derek stared at the contact name and gulped nervously before finally clicking ‘accept’.

“Hi, Mom… What’s, um… What’s up?”

For the first time ever in Derek’s life, one of Westwyld’s lectures actually intimidated him.

Jessica Danforth was an incredibly busy woman. Hell, she was the President of the United States for fuck’s sake, there was no way she would call up her son for something casual. It had to be for something urgent, which inevitably provoked fear in him—all he could think about was getting disinherited. “Hi, Derek,” she says into the phone, sort of in a disappointed sigh. “I was just checking in, making sure you are able to attend the party on Saturday evening. You are able to come, yes?”

Derek let out a soft, gratified breath, relieved that his mother wasn’t calling him to discuss his reputation and financial situation. But either way, it seemed that he was still in deep shit; Derek forgot all about that party.

His mother spoke about it several times in the past, inviting him almost an entire month ago. She made it very clear about how important it was to her, but Derek was completey oblivious to it. It was either some kind of gala or charity event, but he’d been too baked recently to even remember.

“O-oh, um, party, right, that party…” he replies dubiously, the information barely coming back to his mind. “Yeah, um, yeah, of course.” He blinks for a moment, trying to remember the information about the party. Right. It was some kind of charity auction. Raising money for a good cause. Extremely tasteful and elegant, the kind of boring parties that Derek was never a fan of.

“Alright. Good,” she says briefly. Jessica bit her bottom lip hesitantly. “Derek, there’s something I also need to mention.”

Oh shit, here it is. The slight panic returned to him once again. He wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.

“Oh, and, um, what’s—what’s that, Mom?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and trying to sound calm.

“Your… your public image has been in a very rough state lately, especially with all of the partying posts that your friends shared online. The hard drinking and the strippers, Derek, it’s just… It’s affecting how your investors and all these businessmen perceive you. They won’t take you seriously with all of your recklessness. Just… Settle down or something. Find a really nice girl, or boy, or whoever, and take them out to dinner,” she urges. “I want you to stop partying and… hooking up with strangers so much. Please be presentable at the party, Derek. I’d—I’d even be pleased if you were able to bring a date.”

Derek didn’t process the words the moment they left his mouth abruptly, blurting out a blatant lie. “Actually, that’s what I was going to bring up. I actually have a date to the party.” Shit. No. No, you don’t, you fucking idiot.

“What?” She asks curiously, completely taken aback. “Are you serious, Derek?”

“Yeah! And, um, we’ve been serious for a long time, but uh… yeah, they are helping me become a better, uh, man, and I will no longer be reckless. My reputation will be restored, so no drastic measures have to be done,” he says, digging himself in a deeper hole as he tries to indirectly convince his mother that she shouldn’t cut him off. If those rumors were to be true, at least.

“Well… Derek, if you’ve been seeing them for a long time already, then what was that scandalous video clip of you and that… that stripper, posted everywhere online?” She questions, thinking to herself about the logistics of Derek’s situation.

“Oh yeah, that was—see, that was an old video. People have just been reposting it recently, you know the algorithm. I—Actually, I, uh, I met my partner on the day after that video was taken, and they, uh, yeah, they convinced me to be a better man, donate to charity, all that… philanthropy shit—uh, stuff.” Derek had attempted to simultaneously make his mother believe he had a respectable date to the party, as well as being a much better person than he was before.

“Which was when?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, like.. gotta be a few months ago, give or take,” he answers briefly.

“Alright, and who is this date of yours?” She finally asks.

“Oh, right, that would, um, that would be my partner,” he answers in a mumble, nodding to himself with clarity.

“Derek,” she sighs exasperatedly.

“Oh. Their name? Their name, you mean? Their name is, uhh, umm… Actually, I would love to surprise you, Mom!” He answers immediately.

“Seriously?” She scoffs with a disappointed sigh. Jessica knew her son like the back of her hand. Hell, she birthed the kid, having to push out his dumb, big head out of her snatch. The point was, she could always sense when he was lying, or at least when there was something fishy. Sadly, she frequently expected very less of him, unbeknownst to Derek.

“Yeah, Mom! Trust me, they’re really kind and they’re a good person, and I am—I am just thrilled to introduce the two of you,” he exaggerates pridefully, hoping to eventually sell it.

“I worry about you, Derek,” she sighs softly. “Fine… Fine, whatever, Derek, I’ll see them at the party. Please promise me that. Just… Just be good, okay?”

Derek smiled to himself. “I will. And I promise. I won’t disappoint you. I love you, Ma.”

“I love you too.”

***

“I am so royally fucked,” Derek states bluntly.

Later on in the evening, Derek was hanging out with you as always, at the club you two would habitually meet up at. You were his best friend for many years already and earned the position of being his right-hand man ever since you first met in college.

“Why? What did you do this time?” You reply lazily, sipping your drink. You always expected bullshit from Derek. He always got himself into trouble that he would make other people fix. It wasn’t very bothersome to you, personally. You enjoyed hanging out with him and his privilege was just a big bonus.

“Well… So, I was speaking with Wallace—”

“Ew—”

“Yeah, I know,” he scoffs. “As I was saying… The guy pulled me into his office and, get this? There’s a whole fuckin’ rumor that my mom is going to cut me off.”

“What?” You perked up, sitting up from your previous slouching position and looked at Derek seriously. “No way. That—No, that’s not true. You’re—You’re a full-time Mama’s Boy, the fucking suck-up of the century, there’s no way she would do that to you!”

Derek shrugged as he sipped his bourbon, the blue lights in the bar beginning to give him a headache. “Yeah, well… Remember that… that super dope video of me drinking a shot from that one stripper’s belly button? What was her name?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in deep thought. “Vixen?”

“No, she was last week’s. Was it Trixie?”

“No, that was way back during the New Year’s Eve party,” you recalled.

“Candy? No…”

Enthusiastically, you slapped the wooden surface of the counter with your palm. “Tiffany!”

“Yes, fuck, it was Tiffany!” Derek exclaimed. “Okay, well, you recall all those videos of her and me posted everywhere, right?”

“Hell, yeah! I had the best fucking recording, man,” you chuckle softly, thinking about the wild night before.

“Yeah, you did,” he slightly smiled, “but, uh… It’s getting viral and well… I don’t fuckin’ know why Wallace can’t do more cover-up shit for me, but because I’m ‘ruining my reputation’ with this, it’s gonna give my mom a bad reputation too? So, like… Wallace said there was talk about her… cutting me off the inheritance or whatever.”

“Shit…” you blew a low whistle, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… That’s really tough, man. Look, I’m sure that there’s a reason why it was solely a rumor and she’s not actually thinking of that. She loves you, you’re the last physical form of proof of your dad, and ultimately, you’re a manipulative suck-up. You’re not getting cut off anytime soon, dude.”

Derek scoffs, pinching his eyebrows together. “Well, its too late because I sorta fucked up a bit more.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? How?”

“My mom was so insistent about me getting a date to the party this weekend and I think she believes that me being in an exclusive, healthy relationship or whatever would improve my reputation,” he explains, humming a small mutter of gratitude as a bartender walked over to refill his drink. “So… I lied and told her that I had a date already. And that I’ve been dating them for a few months already and they’re helping me improve so that she would have no reason to cut me off.”

“But like… the video of you and Tiff—”

“I know the video of me and Tiff!” He exclaims in frustration. “I told her that video was filmed a long time ago and people are just reposting it, or something.”

“Okay, right,” you nod, trying to get a sense of his train of lies. “So, what, did she believe you?”

“I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know,” he mumbles, “I can’t tell. But I told her I would bring them to the party as a surprise and I couldn’t even come up with a name or anything.”

You groan, putting your head in your hands before taking another sip of your alcohol. “Derek, you are a total idiot. What are… So—so, who are you gonna pull up to the party with? A fuckin’ cardboard cutout of fuckin’… Margot Robbie and call it a night?”

“No, I’m not a dumbass, Y/n. I’ll just tell her that they couldn’t make it because they were sick or something. Better yet—they were doing some kind of modeling job in Europe,” he replies, wanting to give the impression that if he would have a romantic partner, they would be incredibly successful and beautiful. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

“That’s rich,” you scoff, wiping an eye with your finger. You were absolutely done with him. “You really think she’s going to believe that? Seriously? She’s your mom, Derek, I’m sure she can tell when you’re lying. And—and at one point, she’s going to ask for proof of photos and to actually meet them in person, and I’m sure that when she gets the news that you lied to her, she’d want to cut you off even more! Derek, you’re just digging yourself in an even deeper hole than before. You’re practically digging your own grave,” you argue.

“Fine, fine, then if she asks again, I’ll just say that they broke up with me,” he shrugged dismissively, leaning back and drinking from his glass.

“I thought the whole point was to improve your reputation, make you seem like a goddamn saint?” You retort, wiping your hand over your face in exhaustion.

He frowns. “Okay, you do have a point. Fuck. Then what do you suggest I do?”

“Why’re you asking me?” You whine with a frown.

“Because you keep correcting me on shit, clearly you must have better ideas than me,” he shrugs, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, I don’t. If I were you, I’d just cut your losses and accept that your fucking consequences have actions!” You reason fairly. “Might as well just get kicked out to the streets, having to con people for their money—oh wait, that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for the past few years! That’s all you do, man, I’m sorry, I can’t back you up! All you do is trick and deceive with all your lies, using people as pawns, it’s ridiculous!”

And after all that calling out, there was only one thing that the arrogant bastard got out from your outburst. His eyes lit up and you could tell that he had another stupid idea.

“Wait, Y/n, that’s it!” He exclaims brightly. “Using people!”

“Dude, I really fucking can’t with you—”

“I can get someone to pose as my fake partner for the night!” He grins.

“Yeah, I am really not liking the sound of this—”

“And get this,” he began eagerly. “You can do it.”

You feel your eyes widen as you hear Derek’s proposal. “Oh, no. No. Hell no. No, no, no, not in a million fucking years.”

“Y/n, come on,” he whines childishly. “It’ll only be for a day. You can pose as my partner at the party, impress my mom, deceive the press for a bit, and boom, I won’t even be considered getting cut off.”

You let out a prolonged groan, rolling your eyes and gulped much more of your drink than a regular sip. “Derek, she knows me. She knows I’m your best friend, she’s met me, there is no way—”

“That’s the point! I can pull some strings and shit, saying that we were friends until we, like, fell for each other or some other cheesy fuckass story. And if we want this entire charade to end after the party, a few days later I could just say that we broke up because we were more compatible as friends! No bitterness so that neither of us seem like the bad guy in the breakup. It’s the perfect fucking plan,” he explains, somehow more intricately than you would expect from him.

You pause, pondering deeply about his plan.

“Hell no.” You finally say, drinking more of your beer.

“Aw—come on, Y/n. Please. It’s only for a day. Look, my life is at fucking stake! I could lose all my fucking money, and—look—you won’t get to take advantage of my rich, privileged ass anymore. No more luxuries, no more rich parties. Come on, Y/n. Please.” His voice was pleading and you could tell he was heavily desperate. He wasn’t wrong. If the rumors were true and his mother was going to cut him off due to his recklessness and immaturity, he would lose so much money that you can’t leech off on. And of course you cared about him more than the money, he’s been your friend for years. But this whole thing seemed so complicated.

However, you were his right-hand man. His best friend since college. He relied on you. But hell, if you had to humiliate yourself for one night as Derek’s romantic partner, you should at least get something out of it.

“I wanna get paid,” you blurted.

He looked at you with an almost offended expression. “What?”

“Look, if I have to spend a night at a boring ass party, shaking the wrinkly, sweaty hands of old, ancient fucks, and having to pretend I’m your partner, I expect to be paid,” you reason, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding,” he scoffs distastefully, rolling his eyes. God, you wanted to stab a fork in them.

“No! This whole plan is so complicated and I hate you for involving me in it!” You growl, pointing at him accusingly. “What am I getting out of this? Nothing! So you might as well just pay me to do this stupid acting job.”

“You’re—You’re not serious—” he glances at your obstinate expression. “You’re fucking serious. Well, okay! Fuck, fine. How much are we talking?”

“How long is the event?” You ask, grabbing your glass up to your lips to indulge in another sip.

“Probably a few hours, I don’t know, it’s a whole fancy live charity auction event,” he shrugs carelessly, grabbing his vape from his pocket and taking a quick drag.

“Okay, then. I won’t burden you too much. Two hundred dollars,” you answer confidently.

“That’s it? Oka—”

“However,” you began with a small smirk. “If we have to be all couple-y and gross and romantic with each other, I may consider raising the price. Like, if we have to hold hands or I have to look into your eyes for more than five seconds.”

“Fine, that seems fair,” he sighs softly. “Do we have a deal?” Derek, like he always would when he’d negotiate, took out his hand in front of you.

You grimaced at it. “I really don’t wanna shake to that,” you whine, groaning to yourself. “Just one night, right?”

“One night,” he confirms.

“Staging a break up right after?”

“Yup.”

“Little to no PDA?”

“Hopefully.”

“And you’re gonna pay me five hundred bucks?”

“Yes. Wait, wh—”

Before he could protest, you shook his hand immediately, completely sealing the deal.

Having to pretend to be Derek Danforth’s romantic partner for a whole night?

Yeah, there was no way in hell that this was going to end well.

#derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x you #mike schmidt x reader #clapton davis x reader #josh futturman x reader #peeta mellark x reader

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christinarowie332 · 1 year ago

Text

passenger princess

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings : mentions of droogs . swearing (there’s (allways gonna be lots of swearing cuz i love “like an old married couple” trope)

reader and chris go for a late night drive .

(green text is txt messages)

——————

as wonderful as my boyfriend chris is , with his many talents and hobbies , he cannot drive for the life of him .

___

“chris for FUCKS SAKE LOOK AT THE FUCKING ROAD”

“I AM LITERALLY LOOKING AT THE ROAD, WHATDOYOUMEANBRO,THEROAD-“

“CHRIS YOUR LOOKING TO THE SIDE OF YOU ,LOOK AT THE FUCKING ROAD INFRONT”

——

“wait so clutch down , engine on do the gears and shit ….”

“ hand break up , take your foot off the clutch till it gets to the bite then-“

“what the fuck is the bite?”

“it’s right before u feel the car move”

“how do i feel the bite if the car don’t move”

“you just do chris”

“okay then what?”

“you take ur foot off the clutch , and press on the gas and go forward”

“sounds easy as fuck i’ve got this shit”

chris does as i say perfectly until he gets to the part when finding the “bite”

the car jumps forward throwing us both to the dash board , and spilling the two sweet teas next to us all over the front of the car.

“WHAT THE FUCK CHRIS”

“IDIDNTMEANTOIMSORRYAREYOUOKAY”

i unbuckeled his seat belt with a huff and looked up at him through my eyebrows . annoyance painted on my face. before unbuckling mine and exiting the car .

chris’s cheeks flushed with scarlett before getting the hint and getting out of the car to switch seats .

____

so here i am now , sat in my car outside of his house at , 3:24 am , waiting for chris to get out of his house .

i had gotten a text about half an hour ago from him :

“i love u so much btw (can u please pick me up so we can smoke and chill i’m bored and i’m craving some fritos) your the best woman ever and u are so sexy (i’m literally begging you bro) you are allways right and u are the funniest person in the world(PLEASE y/n IM BEGGING YOU BE AWAKE”

“i’m awake christopher”

“soooooo???”

“i’m omw”

“did i mention i love you”

“i’ll be half an hour so don’t make me wait”

“😁”

———

after about two minutes of waiting , i hear a door slam loudly. my head shoots up towards the noise only to see my gorgeous boyfriend grimacing at the loud sound .

he allmost ran to the car , the pockets of his grey sweatpants bulging with objects i couldn’t decifer , along with a orange hoodie and neon green Birkenstocks.

“what the fuck are you wearing” i say through giggles as he plops down hastily in the passenger seat .

“it’s fucking half 3 what did u expect?” he says in a strangely high pitched voice in defense while adjusting himself in the seat and riffling through his pocket .

he pulls out the following items and throwing it in his lap :

a lighter , two pink roll ups in a plastic tub , his wallet, his phone , his charger , a pepsi , chewing gum , three vapes and a pair of fluffy socks .

“what the fuck chris.” i say in disbelief at the amount of utter shit he pulled out before meeting his eyes and tight lipped goofy smile

“what? the essentials” he exclaims shyly shrugging his shoulders

i shake my head in disbelief again before starting the car and pulling out the driveway. chris plugs his phone in and opens the can of pepsi putting it in the cup holder next to mine . he eyes said cup holder , which has my keys , a lighter , two pink pre rolls and a cherry lip balm and smiles .

“great minds” he hums lowly looking away and opening spotify on his phone. i notice this and speak up .

“can i put a request in babe?” i say eyes on the road but angling my head towards him .

“depends , if u try and put some emo shit on i will literally grab the wheel and swerve us into oncoming traffic” he says in full seriousness looking at me with raised eyebrows .

“can u queue up lust by skies and i know by travis please and thank you” i say looking at him for a second a giving him a teeth smile . that doesn’t reach my eyes , in an attempt to ask nicely for a change .

he just stays silent staring at me mouth agape .

“what?” i say smirking and glancing at him for a second

“ i just realized i am actually in love with you”

“JUST?” i shout widening my eyes and aggressively side eyeing him before looking back at the road .

he just laughs and puts his hand on my thigh , before playing lust as i asked .

his grip on my thigh stays as we listen to the music , drawing circles with his thumb . i inhale deeply and try to hide the smile forming on my face . he notices and smirks before looking away out the window . i look at him now as we are at a red light and take the sight in .

his sharp jawline being accentuated by the poor lighting from the red leds . his hair messily falling over his forehead and ears . his eyes being lit up by the streetlight , making them glisten slightly with his lack of sleep . i put a finger on his chin and move his face towards mine resulting in him looking at me in shock slightly. i put my hand on his cheek and rub my thumb along his jaw before leaning in and kissing him .

the kiss doesn’t last long as a car honks loudly behind us . opening my eyes and seeing his face now being green i stay there looking at him smiling , eyes flickering over his face .

“y/n”

i hum in response still in a trance

“y/n the lights green baby”

“oh”

——————-

(guys please dm me if u want me to stop tagging you)

@mangosrar @urmyslxt @soursturniolo @sssturniolofart @jcwrites-blog @lividnity @sturnphilia @daddyslilchickenfingers @biimpanicking

lmk if y’all wanna be tagged plz i forget !!!

i love u all !!! (like acc i wanna eat you)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo

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moonlightndaydreams · 8 months ago

Text

Second Chances

Jisung is determined to lose his virginity at tonight’s house party. He never expected you, his former best friend, to be there.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

Pairing: Jisung x female reader

Word Count: 6,989

Trope: Friends to enemies to lovers. High School house party. Loss of virginity. Forced proximity.

Author’s Note: I have decided to write this story in an Australian setting (I was feeling nostalgic) where the drinking age is 18, the final year of high school is year 12, and a lot of students turn 18 during that final year. The characters in this story are 18 because I don’t want underage drinking in my story.

Now, as much as it is set in Australia, I was actually inspired by a 90’s American High School movie called “Can’t Hardly Wait” that popped into my head while I was driving the other day. Particularly Seth Green’s character’s storyline, that I thought “That’s so Hannie coded.” Side note: Seth Green was in the Buffy series and I may have had a crush on him. Shh, don’t tell anyone.

Warnings: anxiety, anxiety attacks, alcohol, past relationship trauma (Han was really mean), mention of pot and vaping, swearing.

NSFW content warning below the cut.

CW: protected sex, mention of sex toys, orgasms. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

“It’s happening boys!” Exclaimed Jisung standing in the middle of the local bottle shop. “Tonight is the night.”

“The night for what?” Jinnie turned his head from the row of bourbon bottles he was perusing.

“Tonight I’m going to have SEX!” He announced proudly.

“Wait! What?” Jinnie said, visibly surprised by his friend’s declaration.

“But you don’t have a girlfriend!” Seungmin piped up after choosing a pack of premixed Smirnoff from the shelf.

“I don’t need a girlfri-”

“And,” Seungmin Raised his hand to hush his friend mid-sentence. “You have no clue how to talk to girls.”

“Yeah dude, you kinda gotta know how to talk to girls before it moves to sex.” Jinnie implored. “Well, usually anyway.” he added.

Jisung scratched his head. “I know how to talk to girls.” he huffed. The other two chuckled and gave each other an amused look. Jisung furrowed his brow. “I do know how to talk to girls.” He whined defensively.

“Yeah yeah. Come on, let’s just buy this alcohol and head over to the party.” Jinnie smirked. “The lucky lady awaits.” he winked, slapping his friend on the ass.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

Standing in the front yard belonging to the most popular kid in the school, Jisung looked up at the double-story dwelling. It was already thrumming with drunk year 12 students, and music was blaring from the living room. Lights were on all throughout the house, except for a few rooms upstairs, which Jisung decided was where people were having sex. Where he’d be having sex in the very near future. If all went to plan.

He swallowed nervously and slipped his hand inside the pocket of his baggy jeans, feeling for the condom packet he’d placed in there safely.

“Man, you're gonna rub a hole in it at this rate. Then what are you gonna do? Convince her that your pull out game is strong?” Jinnie teased.

“You’ve been checking it’s still in there for the last half an hour.” added Seungmin, and gently put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Seungmin, wanna bet it’s still in his pocket tomorrow?” snickered Jinnie.

Suddenly a roar erupted from somewhere inside, along with the sound of bottles smashing, followed by loud cheers.

“Oh fuck.” Jisung mumbled, suddenly overcome with anxiety. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could do this. “Alright, what are we waiting for?” Jisung tried to sound cool and suave, but his voice cracked with nerves. He took a deep breath, and with a self-determination not dissimilar to the Little Engine That Could, Jisung, with his two best friends in tow, entered the party.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

You sat there on the couch in the middle of the crowded living room, questioning your existence. This wasn’t even a party from your school. Well technically it used to be your school, but not for the past two years. Some students still recognised you though, and you felt like crawling into a hole every time someone pointed a drunken finger at you and yelling “Oh my god y/n! I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth!”, or worse, hug you and say the exact same thing.

As the couple to your right’s makeout session started to heat up and the girl climbed onto the boy's lap, her flailing limbs almost knocked your drink out of your hand. You reminded yourself that you’d come to this party as wingman to your one and only friend, Felix. Felix, who begged you to support him as he came to confess his love to some guy named Chris. You had questioned why he needed to announce his feelings at a fucking party and not online like a regular person, but he’d insisted that this was the only way.

Now Felix had disappeared, and you swore the couple next to you had escalated things to the guy rubbing the girl’s pussy under her skirt.

“I know what you’re thinking.” a voice to your left interrupted your thoughts. You snapped your head up to meet a rather attractive boy with almond shaped eyes and light brown hair.

“What? Like how to dissociate when people are feeling each other up next to you? Or how the fuck did I end up here in the first place?” You said sarcastically.

The boy smirked. Like a devil. “Well, no. I guess I don’t know what you’re thinking afterall.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why? What did you think I was thinking, hmm?” You challenged him.

“That that looks like fun,’ he pointed to the horny lovers next to you. “and where can I hook up with a guy who knows what he’s doing?” He leaned in “and just so you know, that guy there has no clue what he’s doing.”

You were shocked by this boy’s self assuredness. “And you’re the expert, I suppose?” You raised one eyebrow.

“Well if you come upstairs with me, I can show you that I am very much an expert.”

You laughed dryly. “As much as I am really not enjoying it here,” you gestured around the room. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to respectfully decline your offer.”

Minho leaned back and examined your face as though he was weighing up if you were worth pursuing. He clicked his tongue. “Suit yourself then.” He said indifferently. “But if you change your mind, you can find me upstairs. But be warned, you might have to wait your turn.”

With that the boy stood up and left you sitting there stunned. God what a dick, you shuddered and pulled your phone out of your handbag. No messages from Felix. You quickly texted him asking him where he’s at with “Operation Bang Chan”. He hated that that’s what you called tonight’s efforts. He thought it was more a “Sincere Confession of Love”.

Love. You snorted to yourself on the couch. Fuck love. You loved a boy once. Once upon a time. Fuck, that was part of your hesitation in even coming here tonight in the first place. Your former best friend whom you secretly loved. What if he was here? What if you ran into him? You couldn’t think of anything worse. Just the mere thought of him conjured a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. You tried to shake the feeling, but shame crept into your chest. The humiliation and rejection from that day seeping back into your body. The feeling as real, as visceral, as the day it happened. The heartbreak, and heartache, suddenly felt like a fresh wound, even though you’d had two years to heal. His words, his voice, cold and cruel in your head, like he’d only just spoken them.

“Fuck off slag. I’m sick of having you hang around me anyway. Actually, I never even liked you. I just put up with you because I was bored.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You needed some space. No. You needed to leave. You slipped your phone away and headed upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your plan was to pee, call Felix to tell him you had to go, then catch an Uber home. Easy. Only three steps. You’ve got this. You continued to mumble positive affirmations to yourself as you trudged up the stairs, avoiding the loitering drunk students along the way.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

From the outset, Jisung knew he didn’t fit in. He recognised the majority of the kids from the smalltown school, but he hadn’t the faintest idea what most of their names were. Apart from spending time with Jinnie and Seungmin, Jisung kept to himself. He immersed himself in his music. Listening to, and making, music. It was actually how he met his two best mates - in the arts department. Jinnie was a dancer, and Seunmgin loved to sing.

“Are you doing okay, Ji?” Seungmin checked in. Jisung nodded but didn’t speak. The three oddball boys had positioned themselves in the corner of the living room with their bourbon and cokes, and a bottle of premixed Smirnoff for Seungmin.

To their right, was a group of rowdy athletic types. If this were an American teen movie they’d be called the jocks. But these guys weren’t bullies like a lot of the jocks were in the movies. These guys were just good at sport, and were actually the type to get along with absolutely everyone. How people could actually make small talk to teachers and adults of the community, Jisung didn’t know. But Changbin, the kid whose party this was, and his best mate Chris, were able to do it with ease. The pair were also the most decent humans of the lot. It was the reason Jisung even considered coming to the party in the first place. He knew they wouldn’t kick him out on the front lawn for being unpopular.

As Jisung continued to take in the scene around him, he realised that there were in fact a lot of different friend groups there. From the unpopular bookworms who studied hard, to extremely popular bookworms that studied hard. To the potheads (which Jisung recognised more than he wanted to), and the kids that wagged school and vaped. There were the Surfies, the Gamers, and a few guys that were obviously in their twenties that hadn’t seemed to move on from high school. Losers. Jisung thought to himself, despite very much feeling like a loser himself.

“What about her?” Seungmin pointed to a group of three girls who looked around wide eyed as though they’d never seen a party in their lives.

‘Or her there?” Jinnie pointed to a pair of girls Jisung recognised from his music class.

As the pair continued to target potential candidates to “pop Jisung’s cherry” as Jinnie so eloquently put it, Jisung continued to scan the room. He was taken aback when his gaze landed on a boy whose body language oozed fuckboi confidence. Minho. Jisung was pretty sure that was his name. Fuck why couldn’t he feel that confident? Jisung studied “this Minho” for a long moment. He was seated obnoxiously comfortably, manspread on a couch, a beer in one hand, his other arm spread out across the back of the seat. He was talking, no, hitting on, a girl sitting beside him. Jisung couldn’t quite see her face because some guy was standing obstructing his view. Then all of a sudden Minho stood up, winked at two other girls, and headed upstairs. The two girls followed him. Damn. Thought Jisung. Two girls?

Jisung’s gaze reverted back to where Minho had been flirting with the girl on the couch, wondering what her reaction was to him just getting up and summoning two chicks to follow him upstairs. To those dark rooms.

The guy who had been standing in Jisung’s line of vision stepped to the side momentarily and he got a clear view of who Minho had been talking to.

His heart stopped beating, and he felt a surge of heat wash over his face before his blood drained away entirely, leaving him feeling like he’d seen a ghost. You. Then you stood up and headed upstairs too.To where Minho was.

The room felt like it was spinning, and the voices around him became muffled like he was underwater. Oh god he was going to be sick.

“Ji? Ji are you okay buddy?” A voice, Seungmin? asked. But Jisung couldn’t answer. “You’re all sweaty, man.”

“I think he’s having a panic attack. We should probably get him some fresh air. Hey, Ji. Mate? Let’s go somewhe-“

“I gotta get out here!” Jisung cried. He yanked Seungmin’s hand off his arm and rushed away as fast as possible.

Upstairs.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

There were several doors on the landing and you had no idea which one was the bathroom. You cracked open a door revealing what seemed to be a bedroom with some dark shapes moving about on the bed and making some grunting sounds. You quickly closed that door, thankful they didn’t seem to notice your intrusion.

You tried another door. But this time the occupants did notice you. “Well, it looks like the kitten has changed her mind.” Minho said with an air of triumph. The two girls that were clinging onto him turned to you with a look of disgust. You rolled your eyes, closed the door and quickly moved on.

Finally, you found the bathroom. You closed your eyes and leaned against the door, relieved you were finally alone. You let out a long exhale, then opened your eyes to take in your surroundings. The bathroom was spectacular, although rather garish with the decor. Everything in the room was huge. The room itself was twice the size of your bedroom, with a large bathtub along the far wall, and a giant window above it. The vanity was long with an expensive looking custom sink with gold tap fittings, and the mirror above was trimmed with a gold frame to match. This Changbin fellow was rather well off, wasn’t he?

You relieved your bladder on what you were certain was the most expensive toilet you’d ever sat on, and watched your reflection as you washed your hands at the sink. You barely recognised yourself tonight. This setting, a school party setting, was not where you fit in, and you could tell just by looking at yourself. You looked so lost and out of place. You wondered for a moment what life might have looked like if you hadn’t moved and changed schools? You wondered if you would have been able to face the boy that broke your heart. Would you have gotten over him? Could you have faced him everyday? If you were honest with yourself you hadn’t gotten over him even now, even when you hadn’t seen him since that day. Even when he hurt you so fucking badly.

You shook the thought away and picked up your phone to see if Felix had returned your message. Flat. The battery was fucking flat. Well that was just fucking great. You groaned in frustration just as the bathroom door opened and slammed closed, causing you to snap your head over to the door to find yourself looking at the back of a boy wearing baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt and leaning his face against the door.

“What the fuck, dude! Don’t you know how to kno-”

The words died on your tongue when the boy turned around and you were standing face to face with the last person you ever wanted to see again.

He stared back at you. Pure horror on his face.

“Jisung?” you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

“Fuck.” Jisung mumbled and quickly turned back around to open the door. He turned the handle, but nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing. He was becoming more and more frantic as he gripped the handle, rattling it and pulling at the door, like he was trying to run for his life. “No. No. No. I have to get out of here. I can’t breathe. I have to get out.” Then the door handle fell off entirely, silencing him momentarily. Jisung bashed his head on the door, then turned and sank to the floor defeated. He scrunched his eyes tight, brought his knees up to his chest and covered his face in his hands. “I have to leave. I can’t be here. You can’t be here.”

You watched your former best friend falling apart on the bathroom floor. So he still had anxiety attacks then? Something pulled at your heart.

Putting everything you felt about Jisung aside, the anger, the heartache, the humiliation, you moved closer to him, as if on autopilot, sliding down next to him on the floor. “It’s okay Ji.” you soothed. “You’re having a panic attack. We’ve been through these before, remember? And we’ve gotten through it every time.”

Jisung shook his head. “No. I have to get out of here. Trapped. I’m trapped. Why am I hallucinating? You’re not real. I never hallucinate. Oh god the attacks must be getting worse. I fucked up so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I need to get out of here.” He rambled, rocking his body back and forth. You gently placed a hand on his knee. “Ji. I need you to focus on your breathing okay? Focus on the exhale. That’s it, long exhales. Focus on my hand. Can you feel that?”

You sat with Jisung through his attack, gently bringing him back to the present moment and walking him through the steps you knew worked for him. Eventually, he removed his hands from his face and peered at you through teary eyes. “I thought I’d never see you again.” he whispered. “Why are you here? Why are you helping me after…after I did what I did?” he averted his eyes.

You sat up straight feeling uncomfortable at the mention of that day. “Well, you needed help.” you sucked in your lip. “And we need to call someone to open the door. Where’s your phone?”

“Phone?” Jisung echoed vaguely. He patted his pants. “Shit.” he reached inside his pockets. “Fuck!” he groaned and you could visibly see his anxiety bubbling up again. He pulled out his empty hand, not noticing he’d dropped something out of his pocket. You picked up the little square wrapper, only releasing what it was upon closer inspection. A condom.

So he goes to parties and sleeps with girls then?

“Um…here. You dropped this.” you said awkwardly, handing the condom back to Jisung who glared at you as he snatched it back, shoving it deep inside his pocket again.

“Well?” you said. Jisung didn’t respond. “Your phone?” you added expectantly. The sooner you got out of there the better.

“I-I don’t have it.” He said quietly. I must have dropped it. Out there.” he gulped. You banged your head against the door in frustration and closed your eyes.

“Wait. Where’s your phone?” he quizzed defiantly.

“Fucking flat.” you replied not opening your eyes. “Eventually someone will need to use the bathroom, right? Right?” you peered over to Jisung who looked exhausted.

“I think this house has at least four bathrooms. So our chances of escaping might not be as good as you think.” he replied.

“Fuck.” you sighed.

“Yep. Fuck alright.”

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

You spent the best part of the next hour trying to figure out a way to escape. Starting with screaming for help, and bashing on the door, to eventually finding the clean towels and pulling them out of the vanity cupboard with a great escape plan of tying them all together and using it as rope to climb out the window.

“I don’t think it’s going to work.” Jisung said watching you sit in the middle of the bathroom floor attempting to tie two towels together. You scowled at him.

“There aren’t enough towels, and they're too chunky to tie.” he said plainly.

“Well it works in the movies.” you huffed.

“Pretty sure they use bedsheets not towels. Anyway, I need to pee so…” he gestured for you to turn around.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, focusing on your plan.

Jisung flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

“Fine. I give up.” you conceded and tossed the two towels back into the pile and threw yourself on top of it dramatically.

“Look,” he said, pulling the towels out from underneath you. “We might not be able to gallantly climb out the window, but we can make the floor more comfortable.” he started laying the towels out on the floor in front of the bathtub and then sat himself down. “Yep. Much better. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t feel my arse before.”

Sighing, you crawled over and sat beside Jisung and leaned on the side of the bathtub. He was right, this was a little more comfortable.

“So now what?” you said looking at the ceiling.

“I guess we really will have to wait.” he shrugged.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

Time passed slowly, and Jisung didn’t know whether he should attempt to make conversation or stay quiet. You probably hated him after the things he said to you. Should he bring it up? See if you were open to talk about what had happened? Should he just make small talk and pretend nothing had ever happened at all? In the end he said nothing. At least that way he couldn’t make things any worse.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t use your-” you nodded towards Jisung’s pocket where the condom packet was safely tucked away. “I mean, I’m sure you can go one weekend without sex.” You nudged him in the leg teasingly.

“Well, about that.” Jisung cleared his throat. “Well..I’ve never…well.. you know?” He hesitated and looked away. “Slept with anyone.” he said shyly.

“Oh.” You said, sounding surprised by his admission. “Ooh! Right! So let me get this straight, you came to this party tonight planning to lose your virginity?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Hey!” He whined defensively, making you laugh. He hadn’t heard you laugh in such a long time. Jisung never thought he’d get the chance to hear it again after you were gone.

“Well, if we do get out of here, there’s a guy across the hall who’d probably be happy to help you out. Apparently he’s an expert.” You said sarcastically. “I’m sure he’d love to give us both our first times.”

Jisung met your gaze. “Wait, you’re a virgin too?” he asked wide eyed.

“Why? Does that surprise you, Jisung?”

“Well, yeah. I was certain a girl like you would-” Jisung’s eyes widened even more. “No! That came out so wrong.” He clapped his hand over his mouth.

“What? A slag like me?” you said coldly.

Jisung grabbed your hands, panicstricken. “No, baby!” he cried. “Oh, god! No. I never thought that! I fucked up so bad that day. I…I was a fucking dickhead. I was mean. Oh fuck, I was so cruel to you.” tears filled his eyes and began to spill down his cheeks.

You looked down at the floor.

“Baby, baby…please look at me. Say something.” He squeezed your hands in his. You didn’t pull away.

“What did I even do to you to make you say those things? Why do you hate me so much?” you asked quietly, turning to him.

“I…don’t hate you baby! It… I… well I was told you’d been sleeping with some guy. I mean, I know we weren’t actually going out, but when I’d heard you had… slept with someone…and that you were moving schools too… and hadn’t told me that either… I just freaked out. I was hurt. I wanted you to be with me. But you didn’t want me. I thought you weren’t going to tell me anything and you’d be gone. Gone with another guy, and leaving. Behind my back. I was so pathetic.”

You sat in silence taking in what Jisung had just shared.

“You really thought I’d do that to you?” you said eventually. “Jisung! Why didn’t you just talk to me? Why believe what some bitch told you?” You started to cry too.

“I know I shouldn’t have believed her. She showed me text messages and everything. Texts you’d allegedly sent.” He shook his head. “And then I found out it was all a lie. They’d fucking made that shit up. And you’d gone. Then I was angry that you didn’t confront me, pull me up on it. That you just let me say all those horrible things to you and you said nothing. You didn’t even try to defend yourself. That’s when I had the biggest panic attack of my life. When I realised how bad I fucked things up.”

Jisung sobbed as he thought back to when he told you he hated you. That you were a nuisance to him. He hadn’t even meant any of it. Not really. He didn’t think anyone would ever really know how much it was killing him to speak those words. How it felt like he was being stabbed in the heart when your face fell. He even knew the exact moment the words hit you the hardest. The way your eyes blinked back tears. Jisung winced at the memory. He’d tried to tell himself that it was for the best. That it was the easiest way to break the friendship off. That you deserved it, even. But you didn’t deserve it. Any of it. You hadn’t done anything at all. It was his fault.

“Why didn’t you come find me? Apologise? Make things right?” You croaked.

“I was sure you’d have moved on, and I believed you were better off without me.” He hung his head.

“Ji. You hurt me so much. You know that right?”

He looked at you and nodded solemnly. “I know.”

“Like, no one has ever hurt me like you did. You made me feel worthless.”

“I’d do anything to take it back. To make it right.” Jisung whispered. He looked at you with regret in his eyes.

“But,” you looked directly at him. “At least I now know the reason you behaved the way you did. But fucking hell man, you went about it in the worst way possible. Look, I’m not forgiving you for behaving like that. Not by a long shot. But,” you sobbed loudly. “But I missed my best friend.” You began to cry harder, losing all self control and letting the tears stream down your cheeks. “I missed you, and I didn’t want you to hate me like you did. You hated me and I didn’t know why?”

Jisung pulled you close to his chest and rested his chin on the top of your head as you cried against his chest. He hated himself for how he’d made you feel. He was responsible for this. He was responsible for fucking up your friendship. He was in love with you and he’d pushed you away. He wanted to look after you and take care of you, but he’d told you he didn’t want you around. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, not make you cry.

His life hadn’t been the same after you’d left. No one was there to share his thoughts with, or stay up late talking about random shit, or share his music with. There was no one there who could help him through his anxiety the way you could. No one laughed at his silly jokes the way you did. No one made him feel like he could be his awkward, quirky self except you.

But somehow fate had brought you back together and he was determined to fix this.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

You let yourself relax into Jisung’s embrace and cried your eyes out. You felt safe in his arms despite him being the reason you were hurting. But he was hurting too. Both when he thought you’d betrayed him, and even now. He was hurting now and you couldn’t hate him. You kind of understood his perspective. You could definitely see that he knew how he’d fucked up.

You don’t know how long you sat there like that, but eventually you lifted your head and looked at Jisung. “Am I all red and puffy?” You smiled despite the heaviness in your chest.

Jisung half smiled. “Yeah.” He said softly. “What about me?”

You reached up to wipe Jisung’s tear streaked cheek and took in his features. You really looked at him. He was still your Jisung. His cheeks weren’t as chubby, his jaw a little more coarse where he shaved. “You’ve grown up.” You whispered and your eyes locked. Your heart sped up. The way he was looking at you, it was different to the way he’d looked at you previously. The tension was palpable.

Jisung cleared his throat and broke eye contact. “Well I’m an adult now.” He joked like he was trying to change the energy of the moment. “I can vote now.” He added proudly.

“Hmm lucky us, huh? Allowed to vote.” You followed his lead. “And we can drink? And get into nightclubs and pubs.”

“I’d rather just have a quiet movie night than do all that going out.” He said thoughtfully. “I’d prefer the quiet life I think.”

You leaned away from him and looked at him quizzically. “But what about your music? Aren’t you wanting to play in some of those places?”

“Depends. Will you come watch me if I do?” He asked.

You nodded. “I miss your music.”

“Well I’ve written a lot of songs in the last couple of years. Mostly angsty stuff.” He blushed.

“I’d love to hear everything if you ever wanna show me.” You leaned back against the tub. “Well here’s to adult life, hey.” you sighed.

“That’s if we ever actually get out of here. We might survive a couple of days in here, but the outlook doesn’t look good.” Jisung laughed dryly. “But at least we have a toilet.”

“And water to drink and wash ourselves with. I like the look of this bath.” You glanced over your shoulder.

“We might starve to death, but we can enjoy bubble baths in the meantime.” He joked.

“I’m pretty sure I saw some organic, all natural sugar scrub when I was searching the cupboards. Maybe it’s edible?” you suggested.

You both laughed, finally feeling more at ease with each other. It felt familiar. It felt nice.

“I can see the news headline: Two virgin teenagers starve to death in a luxurious bathroom after being trapped for three weeks.” You announced in your best newsreader’s voice.

“God, that’s sad.” Jisung shook his head. “Hey? Do you remember that pact we made?” he turned to you.

Your laugh faded. “Oh.” You cast your mind back. “Oh my goodness. Yes! I remember.” You covered your mouth to hide your smile. “If either of us hadn’t had sex by sex by eighteen-“

“We’d have sex with each other.” He gave a shit eating grin. You smirked at him and shook your head in disbelief. “Jisung!” You punched him playfully in the arm and leaned into his body. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed your arm affectionately. This felt so natural, so easy. You laid your hand across his waist, still so tiny, and played with the fabric of his shirt. “Ji? Did you mean what you said earlier? That you wanted to be with me. Like more than just best friends?” You waited silently for him to answer.

“Yeah. I always wanted to be more than just your best friend.” He said in a quiet voice.

You slowly lifted your chin up to look at him. He gazed down at you with the softest eyes. Slowly, he tilted his face down towards yours and brushed your lips with his. It was electric despite it being the briefest of contact. He pulled away just an inch, hesitating to continue. Waiting for you to give him a signal to either keep going or to stop. Your eyes flicked up from his lips to meet his eyes momentarily before wrapping his shirt in your fist and pulling him back into another kiss. An unexpected whimper got caught in your throat as Jisung’s lips moved against your own. Slow but firm. His kiss felt hopeful, like a promise.

“I should have come and found you, begged for your forgiveness.” he said breathily between kisses. “I’m sorry baby, I really am.”

“Shh. Kiss me more.. It feels so right.” you sighed and pulled him back in.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

It did feel right. Kissing you. Jisung wanted to show you how much you meant to him. How sorry he was. How much he wanted to make it up to you. Your lips tasted like heaven, and your body so soft and warm in his arms. You were real and this was really happening.

He cupped your jaw, initiating a deeper kiss and you opened your mouth in response. The moan that slipped from you as he dipped his tongue in to find yours went straight to his cock. You pressed your body against his, panting as your tongues danced, like you were trying to crawl inside him. He could hardly control himself when he felt your hand slip under his shirt and caress his bare skin.

Jisung pulled away abruptly, eliciting a wine from you in protest. You looked drunk and delirious with flushed cheeks and soft, unfocused eyes. You looked like perfection.

“Ji, I want you to be my first.” you declared with a hopeful expression.

Jisung blinked thinking he misheard.

“W-what?” he stuttered.

“I want you to be my first.” you repeated, not breaking eye contact.

Jisung swallowed and studied your face trying to make sure you knew the weight of what you were saying. “Do you want me to be your first too?” you asked in a small voice.

“I want you to be my first and my forever.” he whispered before he could stop himself. Shit.

“There’s my songwriter.” you smiled, stroking his cheek. Then your hand went to rest on his pocket where the condom resided.

“What? Here? Now? On the bathroom floor at a party?”

You nodded.

“Baby, this isn’t how I envisioned it. I mean, not that I have ever imagined it. Okay, I have imagined it. But…it’s not very romantic.” he looked at you desperately, hoping you’d come to your senses, because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.

“Jisung, please.” you purred. Fuck, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

“How can you want me when I hurt you like I did?” he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Let’s forget that right now. I know you’re sorry. I really do. And I know that it wasn’t really you. Let’s focus on moving forward.” You slid both hands up underneath his shirt making him shiver. His mind automatically imagined what it’d feel like if you wrapped a hand around his dick.

“Okay.” he said finally. “But you have to tell me to stop if you change your mind at any time.”

“Okay.” you whispered.

If this was going to happen, on the floor of a bathroom at a damn house party, then Jisung wanted to at least make it as comfortable for you as possible. He rearranged the towels to provide as much cushioning as possible, and he opened the blinds and turned off the light to allow natural moonlight to fill the room.

Then he was laying you down gently on the floor. “Are you going to undress me now?” you asked boldly.

Jisung felt so nervous as he fumbled at your clothes, peeling off your shirt and jeans, leaving you just in your underwear. In turn, you pulled his shirt off and ran your hands up his back while you pulled him down into a kiss. He let his hands explore your bare skin, his desire, his need, to be closer to you growing stronger by the moment. He was certain you could feel his erection against your leg. You pulled him further on top of you, opening your legs and inviting him to nestle his hips between them. You’d definitely be able to feel his erection now. You ground your core up against him, making him moan and grind back in response.

“Fuck, baby.” he mumbled into your neck. “Feels s’good.” he peeled himself off you to kneel between your legs, taking in the sight of you while he rubbed circles on your hips. Then bravely he brought his thumb to graze over your centre over the top of your panties. You pulled in a sharp breath and Jisung couldn’t help but smirk.

“Ji, please! Take off your pants…I want you now!” you plead. Jisung closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to control his nerves. This was actually happening. He was about to have sex, and with the girl he’d dreamed of sharing this moment with.

“Please.” you practically begged and your hand slipped down beneath the front of your panties and rubbed at your clit.

Jisung sprung into action. He removed his jeans and boxers, and then peeled your panties off, revealing how your fingers expertly slid through your wetness. “Fuck!” he groaned, and quickly rolled the condom on.

“Jisung!” you gasped. “You have such a pretty penis.”

“Yeah?” he teased as he positioned himself above you again. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked gently.

“I’m sure, Jisung.” you locked eyes with his.

Jisung lined his cock up with your entrance and gently pushed inside an inch, feeling your pussy stretch around his tip. He carefully pushed in a little further, your warmth inviting him in and enveloping him. “Is this okay? Am I going too fast?” he inquired.

“Jisung. I may be a virgin but I own a dildo. Please, please I need you in me.” you whimpered.

Jisung’s cock pulsated at the image of you fucking yourself with a dildo, imagining what you’d look like showing him exactly how you did it.

“Oh so you’ve been stretched out before huh? Well then.” he pushed himself in all the way and paused.

“Mmm hmm. But it’s not as thick as you. You…you’re making me feel so…so full…so stretched. Fuck, you feel so good. So perfect for me…please…can you move now?”

Jisung reached down and gripped onto your thigh, lifting it and pushing it a little more to the side. He rested himself on his forearm and took you in a deep kiss. At the same time he pulled his cock out halfway and sank back in. You both breathed out shakily. This felt too good. He started with a slow rhythm, gradually building up the pace, careful not to thrust too hard. You were so wet, and so fucking tight, It took all his self control not to start fucking you with abandon. But he didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to give you whatever you needed right now and let you set the pace. It was his absolute downfall when you spoke next.

“Fuck me harder, Ji.” you whimpered.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

Jisung felt heavenly inside you, but you needed more. You needed to really feel him, to feel how much he needed you, to make you his.

Jisung hesitated. “You sure, baby? I might hurt you?”

“Come on pleeeasse… I wanna be yours.”

Jisung suddenly snapped his hips making you cry out in pure pleasure. “Yes, like that. Don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to last, baby. You feel too…too…fuck.” he panted.

Jisung began to perspire, beads of sweat on his brow, his hair damp. Sound of your skin slapping together filled the room and you were grateful for the loud music downstairs.

“I’m so close.” he whispered.

‘It’s okay, Ji. I’m close too. Rub my clit while you fuck me. I promise you’ll like what happens when you do.”

Jisung slipped his thumb in between your bodies. “Right here, baby.” you slipped your hand over his, adjusting the position of his thumb so that he could feel your clitoris. “Rub it in circles. Like this.” you guided him for a few moments before letting him take over.

It was enough to take you to the precipice. “I gonna cum, Ji, fuck me through it.” you cried as your back arched off the floor. His thrusts were deep, hard and controlled and that’s when you felt it. The coil in your abdomen snapping and you were being flung off the cliff.

“Oh god…fuuuuckk! You’re squeezing me so tight… you’re…” he grunted.

“Yes, I'm cumming. Cum with me Ji!” you cried out.

You felt Jisung’s hips falter, and an expression of pained pleasure washed over his features as he filled the condom.

He collapsed on top of you and you held him tight, while you both came down from your highs.

“Oh my god. That was incredible. I could feel you cum.” he lifted his head and looked at you in disbelief.

“It was pretty perfect.” you agreed.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

After you had both cleaned up, which was easy considering you were in a bathroom, you found yourselves fully dressed and sitting back on the floor in front of the bath.

"You know, we could have run a bath and had sex in that.” you suggested as an afterthought.

“Baby,” Jisung said in a serious tone. “Do you really want to put the past behind us? Start fresh? You’ll really have me after…?”

You took his hand in yours. “Yes, yes I do. But you have to promise to talk to me before ever accusing me of anything. Okay?”

He nodded. ‘Yes of course.”

He leaned in and kissed you, before a banging at the door startled you both and broke Jisung from the bubble you were in. “Ji? Ji? Are you in there, mate?” Seungmin called from the otherside of the door.

“So, should we let them save us, or stay like this just a little bit longer?” he whispered, secretly hoping you actually wanted to stay like this forever.

The end.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

Thank you for reading my story. I love sharing my ideas with you. If you know any Han Jisung fanfic fans please feel free to reblog and tag them 🥰🥰🥰

@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @weareapackofstrays

#skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #stray kids smut #sorshas fic

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thearizerway · 1 year ago

Text

The ArGo (or Arizer Go) is a pocket vaporizer. ArGo is a great option for both new and seasoned vaporizer users. It provides a practical vaporizing experience and you can even fine-tune its device settings.

Today, we will compare the Arizer Go to the Arizer Solo II (“big brother” to the ArGo from Arizer). Let’s find out how they compare!

Rising Popularity of ArGo as a Pocket Vaporizer

With Arizer’s Custom Session Settings and convection heating systems, portable vaporizers are getting more advanced. Pocket vaporizers are discreet, practical, and PORTABLE! If you are an on-the-go user, having a vape that is truly portable is a huge selling feature.

This pocket vaporizer is exceedingly portable because it prepares you for a whole day out. Interchangeable 18650 batteries mean you’ll never be low on power. The ArGo’s size makes it so you can easily palm your vape or put it in your pocket for travel and the innovative design enables the mouthpiece to be entirely masked for on-the-go usage.

Previous Arizer vaping products were somewhat tall and large to fit easily in a pocket, but this challenge has been resolved with the ArGo. With Arizer’s ArGo, you can easily elevate the pocket vape experience by leveraging innovative technology and advanced features.

ArGo vs. Solo II

The ArGo is a small-sized pocket vaporizer, and the Solo II is like a “big brother” to the ArGo, both from Arizer. With its compact size, about the size of a deck of playing cards, and onboard functionalities and features are what set the ArGo apart from Solo II. Let’s compare the two!

Let’s look at the ArGo and Solo II on the basis of device design, battery & charging capacity, different product features, ease of use, portability, and vapor generation.

ArGo vs. Solo II: Design

The precise design of the Arizer ArGo is impressive. Its innovative design finishes are highly functional and sleek. The device top slides up and to protect the glass stem when not in use.All the product components are made of superior quality, carefully sourced, and are heat resistant. The black-on-black matte look gives ArGo a high-end feel.

The ArGo pocket vaporizer product is designed with the mobile connoisseur in mind and fits in a palm-sized package. Through excellent design, Arizer has constantly raised the bar and set new benchmarks in quality through its products.

The Arizer Solo II has borosilicate glass tubes, which is a fantastic product design element. The tubes come in 70, 90 and 110 mm lengths. The longer the tube, the cooler the vapor. The complete vapor path is made of glass on both Argo and Solo II, which ensures superior taste, cool vapor and superior enjoyment. This product is durable and comes with a large OLED screen that enables users to access Arizer’s Custom Session Settings.

ArGo vs. Solo II: Battery and Charging

The ArGo charger leverages a Micro USB and 2-point base as simple as your smartphone charger. The average battery life is around 90 minutes. It takes me approx 15 min per bowl, so this gives 7 – 8 uses until needing to replace the battery or charge. This is sufficient battery life for outside adventures, hanging out with friends, festivals, events, and relaxing around the backyard.

With the ArGo pocket vaporizer, you can enjoy uninterrupted vaping with interchangeable batteries. You can easily swap out your battery for a brand new, fully charged ones. Interchangeable batteries assist in increasing vaping session length and avoid having to find a power outlet. This pocket vaporizer can even be charged through a USB cable and leverages pass-through charging, which means you can use it while it’s charging.

The Arizer Solo II comes with an average 3-hour battery life, which means it backs around 18 sessions of 10 minutes in one go. The long-lasting battery and several accessible charging choices offer a great portable vaping experience to the users.

ArGo vs. Solo II: Functionality and Features

The ArGo gets to 190° C in about 60 seconds from when you turn it on. It reaches the temperature of 220° C in around 90 seconds. This scenario is excellent for having a swift and relaxing session. Not much time to wait for your pocket vape to heat up.

The case is similar with Solo II. The product offers comprehensive control with an utmost temperature of 220° C (428° F). The screen is large and showcases Arizer’s Custom Session Settings. The Solo II displays battery life, current temperature, your desired temperature, and other significant details on the display.

ArGo vs. Solo II: Portability

With the ArGo, Arizer has crafted a design that can fit easily into your pocket. The ArGo has a stem that precisely fits within the body when you are required to carry the product and it does not look like a traditional vaporizer.

Solo II is also very portable but a little less discreet than the ArGo. It’s stem sticks out of the unit and it looks like a vaporizer from afar, so people who are interested in using the vape for festivals or out and about in public sessions may prefer ArGo over Solo II.

ArGo vs. Solo II: Ease of Usage

Both vaporizers are pretty simple to use. Both utilize Arizer’s Custom Session Settings to simplify and customize each user’s experience.

The Solo II is easy to use as it comes with three buttons – the center, up, and down buttons. The center and up buttons will turn on the product, while the up arrow will upsurge the heat settings. Solo II offers a practical usage process with the user easily putting the dry herbs into the glass aroma tube.

For the ArGo the stems are very similar. The loading of your dry herb is the same as with the Solo II tubes. The usage of the unit is nearly identical to the Solo II for setting up your custom session settings.

ArGo vs. Solo II: Vapor Generation and Quality

With an all-glass vapor path and isolated airpath in Solo II, the device generates a smooth and tasty vapor. The product activates natural terpene profiles. Furthermore, the draw resistance of this product is exactly what you’d expect, even draw with a large cloud production.

The ArGo pocket vaporizer has a pleasant, relaxed, and wide-open draw. It has a glass, ceramic, and stainless-steel air path blended with hybrid heating that shields the taste of your herbs, keeps them warm between draws, and heats them when taking hits.

ArGo is absolutely a top-tier pocket vaporizer. It comes with a compelling blend of pure vapor generation and flavor, combined with interchangeable batteries and a highly sleek design.

Arizer hits it out of the park with both Solo II and ArGo, but for a pocket vaporizer ArGo is the vape you’re looking for. It provides exceptional and exclusive portability and discreet use for its users.

Handpicked Related Content Unleash the ultimate power of ArGo, the best pocket vaporizer for dry herbs.

This article was originally published on Arizer's blog.

#dry herb vaporizer #pocket vape #best pocket vape #herb pocket vaporizer #pocket vaporizer

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writersblockedx · 1 year ago

Note

night swims w conrad?

Pairing - Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - Conrad interrupts your night swim, leading to all the words you hadn't said spilling out. Warnings - Jealousy? Mentions of alcohol use Words - 1.3K

Masterlist

Night swims were always enjoyable. To dip your legs in first, for the bitter water to creep up your skin ever so slowly until you submerged your whole body. Goosebumps covered your skin, reminding you that you could feel something. Once your shoulders were in the water, it suddenly wasn't as cold. It was weightless. And it carried you as you floated on your back, staring up at the stars as if they were staring back at you.

Night swims were for the days that were too much. After going to a bonfire with all the boys (plus a surprise visit from Belly), tonight was one of those nights. Maybe it was just the people, or the amount of alcohol you consumed, or perhaps, as you deep down knew, it was about the fact you had to watch Conrad and Nicole the whole night. She was the newest hookup of Conrads. Not quite girlfriend, but she was certainly under the belief it would happen one day.

It was torture. She was nice and kind and she only wanted the best for Conrad exactly as you were. A part of you was seething with guilt in that you still hated her a little bit. She had stolen everything you wanted to be. But, by now, it had become a feeling you were all too familiar with. Every few months, a new girl. Before her, there was Arbury who was lucky to make it to girlfriend status - not many ever had done.

Wrapped up with these thoughts, you just wanted a moment away from the chaos. Like you could pretend that, for a second, it didn't bother you. That what Conrad did - who he did - didn't actually bother you. When your eyelids lifted, you almost thought you were hallucinating. The very person who had captured your thoughts was looking down at you.

At first, you didn't move. Because, at first, you weren't completely sure if he was real. Then you jumped back to reality and that pit in your stomach returned. You adjusted, going to stand rather than float. Still, you turned to find Conrad who had his legs dangled in the water, letting his gaze wander over you, every corner of your skin as if you didn't notice what he was doing.

"It's late." So you assumed anyway. You hadn't even checked the time when you came in, but the bonfire had dragged on for a while - or maybe it only felt that way because you were forced to watch Nicole flirt with Conrad the whole night. "What are you doing out?" You finally added.

Conrad answered by retrieving a cigarette from his jacket pocket; a new hobby he had taken up this Summer. "Been a long night." You were glad he felt the same.

"Susannah's already mad at you, you think that's gonna help?" You had one brow raised at him.

But it didn't seem to do anything, "I don't need a reminder." There was a snap in his tone that you had tried to ignore. "And anyway, she's fast asleep." His eyes dwindled at that, going to focus on the abyss in the distance.

You swam closer to him, forcing the boy to move his gaze back to yourself. "What's with the smoking anyway?" You'd noticed it since you first arrived. He would wander off and come back ten minutes later smelling of either smoke or some illegal substance. "Just last year, you hated it. I remember when you found Jere vaping and you gave him the silent treatment for almost two whole days."

He thought about that memory for a moment before he shrugged it off. "Things change." He excused.

Without being able to stop yourself, words started spilling out, "I thought you wouldn't." He was Conrad. He wasn't meant to change, especially not like this.

Your eyes lingered on his, watching as his pupils dilated and his expression moulded into one you couldn't read. "You're upset with me?" He finally asked as you took a few steps back.

"Like you said, things changed." You reiterated. "You changed. You're more distanced from everything, quiet. You don't have that playfulness you did last year-"

He cut in with a scoff, "Playfulness? Really?" You could feel your heart sinking. "You mean because I don't play your's and Jeremiah's and Belly's childish games?"

You knew there was no point in arguing with him. "It doesn't matter." You shook your head. And this time, you turned your back to him, swimming to the other end of the pool when you weren't forced to stare at Conrad Fisher.

Only a few minutes had passed when you heard the shuffling of movement. At first, you thought Conrad was getting up to leave, but the sounds continued until a soft splash came from the other side of the pool. That noise prompted you to turn. Conrad was already looking at you, shirtless and getting used to the temperature. Then, once he was close enough, he flicked his hand passed the water, letting it splash in your face.

"Conrad, what the hell!" You snapped, squirming at the feeling of bitter water hitting your skin.

"What?" He questioned as if he was innocent. "You told me to be more playful."

He shrugged it off as if it were nothing, gaining closer and closer until you only had to whisper in reply. "I'm not in the mood." Your tone was flat.

But Conrad hadn't let that stop him. He splashed you once more. "Conrad!" You snapped again.

"Oh come on, you not gonna fight back?" Your head shook and he took another step towards you before there was barely any distance left between the two of you. Before you could stop him, his hands took a grip around your waist. Within a moment, you were swirling around at Conrad's will, and as much as you hated it, laughter was trickling from your lips. "That's not the Y/n I know!"

You started hitting his side, letting out a, "Conrad, put me down!" Only just heard through the giggles to two of you shared.

Soon enough, he slowed and your body entered the water again. But Conrad's touch didn't leave you. His hands lingered around your bare waist and you swore you could get drunk just off his touch. He was so close. Yet, there was a distance between the two of you still. There felt more distance now than before you had arrived at Cousins. You just sat wishing the boy would break that distance.

"I'm sorry I've not really been around as much as you had expected. Or that I haven't joined in on any of your games or even watched a movie with you." His eyes clung to your own. "But, trust me, I'm trying."

This time, your hand reached out, brushing his cheek as he fell into it. "That's all we need to know." You assured him. "I'm here for you Conrad, you know that?"

He nodded, "I know." And before you could reply, he closed that distance. His lips leaned into your own and you were caught in his trap.

It was sweet but short-lived as you pulled away, too shocked to deepen the kiss any further. Conrad's eyes were frightened and yours were curious. "Why did you do that?" You asked, without moving away from his touch.

He thought on it for a second before answering, "I think I've been meaning to for a few Summers now." Them words had only made you lean into another kiss. One of which you were sure now wouldn't be your last.

#conrad fisher #tsitp season 2 #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher oneshot #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher angst #tsitp #tsitp x reader #tsitp fanfic #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #imagine #x reader #fanfic

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p34ce0fm1nd · 10 months ago

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modern cattonquick hcs

- felix is obsessed with the looksmaxing, mogging, and mewing trend.

- felix: *just passed someone* i mogged him

oliver: what?

- oliver is chronically offline yet the stalker friend. trying to find a boy but only have his picture? oliver will find his birth certificate

- felix is on that sigma male trend. he sees tyler durden and patrick batemen and goes “he just like me fr”

- felix loves chief keef. play “love sosa” and that man will lose it

- oliver likes to go wondering in the woods at night. it makes him feel like a little spirit

- felix dedicated “trap queen” by fetty wap to oliver. he plays it every time they’re in the car together

- oliver had a huge creepypasta phase when he was 13-15.

- felix is insta famous and his audience loves oliver. felix would post a photo of them together and all the comments would be “ollie 🫶🏽” “OLIVER!!” “omg oliver ❤️❤️” “babygirl ollie 💞” (felix gets jealous)

- felix makes a post saying oliver is HIS best friend and not theirs (everyone starts jumping him in the comments)

- felix is a nic FIEND. bro will tear up a couch looking for his vape (it was in his pocket the whole time)

- oliver sneaks up on people (not on purpose). he walks without making any sound. he can’t tell you how many times he’s accidentally scared felix while the man was playing video games

- oliver is a horror movie buff. he will make felix sit through every movie he watches

- one time oliver took an edible (from felix) and greened out so bad, felix had to take care of him the rest of the night. oliver was so gone he couldn’t undo his pants himself. at one point felix lost oliver and then found him sobbing in a bush outside

- felix constantly brings up oliver greening out just to embarrass him

- one time felix and oliver showed up high to a lecture, giggling in the back of the class while eating snacks

- felix likes to play slenderman while drunk. bro starts tweaking 2 minutes into the game. oliver constantly goes “that isn’t accurate” while felix is playing

#saltburn #oliver quick #felix catton #cattonquick #felix x oliver #jacob elordi #barry keoghan #felix catton x oliver quick #felix #oliver

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dollarstoreartsupplies · 5 months ago

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gifted kid au - @femslashfortnight

because, y'know, alice had a connection with blinky and deb,,,...,., is an artist who smokes weed

more au thoughts below cut:

EXTRA AU THOUGHTS:

work best as a team, but don't often get to fight together

deb is offense, with her weapons, and Alice is defense because she can dodge/call opponents moves

rollerskating dates after :)

deb:

creates huge illusions out of smoke that can disorient or confuse her opponents, but it's a lot more draining/uses more smoke so she usually makes weapons even though she finds them less fun

(the weapons hit once, like a normal weapon, and then dissipate)

unfortunately has to have a vape in her pocket at all times to recharge her powers

uses it outside of the rink just to do really cool smoke tricks and make the other members of the smoke club jealous

mostly doing this to make sure alice stays safe

alice:

has to make eye contact for her powers to work, but the other person doesn't have to be aware of it, which is why she wears huge sunglasses

her powers are way more muted outside of the rink, which just adds to her anxiety because she's gotten used to knowing things ahead of time

likes the sense of control/power fighting (and having the extra income so she can pursue writing later) gives her

her dad does not know and he CANNOT ever know he would lose his shit

#click for quality especially below cut!#hatchetfield femslash fornight #hfff #Alice Woodward #deb tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield femslash fortnight day 9 #hfff9 #starkid #hatchetfield #yellow jacket #nmt2 #my art :)#potseed #image description in alt #image described

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stop-talking · 9 months ago

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I am soooo excited for the rest of your Derek fic your Mike fic was so good!!! It was everything I want from enemies to lovers so I can't wait for more 💕

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 2)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.1k

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

Part 1 Part 3

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Derek is pulled from his deep, trance-like sleep by the sound of someone calling his name.

He sits up in bed, blinking and swaying slightly as he adjusts to the light pouring in through his windows.

"Derek? C'mon, wake up."

Who the hell is knocking on his door? Everyone knows not to wake him unless it's urgent.

He stumbles to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet. Why is his head pounding? Is he hungover?

"Fuck d'ya want?"

Derek opens the door, ready to chew out whoever is on the other side. He stops when he sees you, and suddenly remembers everything that happened last night.

Beach house. Three weeks. With you. Sober.

"I was thinking we could have breakfast?"

Derek blinks at you, unsure what to even say. He wasn't used to being woken up like this, and his head was still pounding. God, he wanted his vape already.

"Umm... sure. Let me..." He looks down at his clothing, a simple t-shirt and some sweats. He feels... naked.

"I'm gonna change." He mumbles, closing the door before you can fully take in his disheveled appearance. He doesn't like letting people see him without his usual clothing. Which, honestly, was anything but usual.

Today, Derek decides on a floral print button-up, and a nice pair of green slacks. He doesn't bother with a jacket or blazer, it's too hot for that. He finishes the look by adding a belt with a chunky gold buckle, and his staple, snakeskin boots.

After getting dressed, he moves on to his hair, putting a small handful of product into his curls. The frosted tips are relatively new, and Derek smiles at his reflection. He looks pretty damn good, all things considered.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Morning." You nod to Derek as he makes his way into the kitchen.

"Morning..." He mumbles back, taking a seat on a stool next to the island.

"How're you feeling?" You turn away from the breakfast you were beginning to prepare, just a gathering of ingredients really, and look him over.

He looks... tired. He's dressed in his regular clothes now... well, regular for Derek. You can't help but notice the way his leg bounces nervously, how he repeatedly reaches into his pocket, only to take his hand back out immediately.

"Fine." He answers flatly, turning and scratching at the back of his neck.

Hm. He sure didn't look fine.

"You know I'm here to help you, right?" You decide to take a risk and verbally prod him a little, just to see if he opens up.

He doesn't.

"Shouldn't you be cooking me breakfast?" He sneers, narrowing his eyes at you as you lean on the counter across from him.

Okay, that's enough sass.

"If you want to eat breakfast, you can help make it."

Derek scoffs at that.

"I don't cook."

"So you've said."

The two of you silently stare at each other for a few moments, Derek's eyes narrow while you remain calm and serious. Finally, he relents.

"Fuck are you even making?" He grumbles, shifting in his seat to peek over your shoulder at the ingredients you've gathered on the counter behind you.

"Pancakes." You step aside so he can see the box of pancake mix, and do your best to muster up a smile. He's grumpy, yeah, but not truly angry yet. Better not push him if an argument can be avoided.

"So... do you want to help me cook breakfast, or do last night's dishes?"

Derek looks back and fourth between you and the sinkful of dishes, frowning.

"...You said pancakes?"

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Derek grimaces as a bit of pancake batter splashes on his silk shirt from his sloppy whisking. How did he get roped into this? Cooking? Seriously?

"Is it supposed to look so... lumpy?" He asks, frowning as he lifts the whisk and watches the weird goop plop down into the bowl.

"Yeah, that's normal. Keep mixing, and scrape the bottom. You're doing great."

He sighs, but continues to whisk, more carefully this time. It's... not that hard, actually. Even if it looks lumpy and weird.

After a minute or so, you apparently decide he's done enough, and take the bowl from him.

"So... am I done?"

"...do you want to eat raw batter?"

"No."

"Then no."

Derek scowls, watching as you spray something on the pan.

"Then what am I-"

"Just wait. I'll explain."

He lets out a rather dramatic sigh, then leans against the counter and eyes you. As annoying as you are... he can't help but admit you're attractive. Just a little.

Soon, you're pouring batter into the pan and walking him through cooking a pancake. He's only half-listening. It should be easy. Let it cook on one side, flip it, let the other side cook. Right? Even he couldn't fuck that up.

"You ready to try?" You ask, giving him an eager smile. Damn. Okay, maybe you're more than just a little attractive.

Derek just nods and takes the bowl from you, pouring some batter into the pan, trying to mimic what you did. Unfortunately, he overshot his pour, and it spread out to fill almost the entire pan.

"It's okay." You assure him. "It'll just be a big one."

He resists the urge to make a stupid joke about his "big one", instead deciding to just shrug it off and move on.

"So.. how do I tell when it's ready to flip again?" He asks, shifting awkwardly as you both silently wait for the pancake to cook.

"When it starts bubbling at the edges. Look, there's already a few."

You point, and he leans down to watch it more carefully.

"...can I flip it now?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Just like I showed you."

Derek accepts the spatula you hand him, gently sliding it under the pancake. Okay... just flip it. No big deal.

He completely fucks it up. The oversized pancake folds in half over the side of the pan, batter splattering all over the stove. He jumps back in shock, then straightens himself and scowls when he hears you laughing.

"It's not funny." He glares at you, then turns his attention back to the sorry excuse for a pancake. It's half-cooked, dripping down the side of the pan and onto the stovetop.

"No, no... It's not. I'm sorry..." You choke out between wheezes.

"Make breakfast yourself." Derek huffs, throwing the spatula onto the counter and storming off.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After taking a minute to calm yourself down from the laughing fit, and several minutes to clean up Derek's failed attempt at a pancake, you finally convince him to come try again.

"Here, I'll guide you through it this time." You place a hand over his as he holds the spatula, standing directly behind him and speaking in a soothing manner.

He glances back at you and shifts slightly, looking... nervous? No, no way. He's probably just still grumpy from earlier.

"C'mon, you only messed up last time because there was too much batter. You'll do fine." You assure him, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"Yeah... alright." He seems to stiffen from your touch instead of relax. Odd.

When it's finally time to flip it, you count down from three, then help guide him through the motion. This time, there's no mess. A perfect flip.

"See? You did great." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, giving him a grin.

"Yeah... I did." He mumbles and turns away, suddenly extremely interested in the bowl of batter.

Is he... blushing? You can't tell for sure, with his head turned, but the tips of his ears look a little... pink.

"Wanna make a few more, master chef Derek?" You tease him, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of his face.

"Calling me master already, sweetheart?" He quips back, turning to face you with a smirk of his own. Whatever blush you thought you saw is gone now, replaced by his usual cocky demeaner.

Of course he'd respond like that. Asshole.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, focusing mainly on stuffing his face.

He chews slowly, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. So many emotions are running through his head right now that he hardly feels his throbbing headache.

The way you smiled at him. How you didn't give up on him when he messed up. Fuck, you even held his hand. Well, you put your hand on top of his while he held a spatula. But still, that counted, right?

"So... what's the plan for today?" He finally asks, looking up at you from across the dining table."

"What do you mean?"

"Like... what are we gonna do? Sit on our asses all day?" He scowls, and stuffs another bite of pancake into his mouth.

"If that's what you want."

"Itths noht." Derek shakes his head, mumbling through a mouthful of food.

"Gross. Chew your fucking food." You give him a pointed look, then take a bite of your own breakfast.

"Whatever. Seriously. If I have to stay cooped up in this house for THREE WEEKS, I'm going to go insane."

"You're already pretty insane."

"I'll get worse."

You laugh at that, and Derek frowns. It's not funny. He's completely serious.

"Well... if you're that eager to get out, how about we walk down to the beach for the afternoon? Spend the day in the sand?"

"Yeah... that sounds nice."

He quickly finishes up the rest of his food, eager to get out. And maybe also excited at the prospect of seeing you in a bikini. Just a bit.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Around half an hour later, you walk downstairs, sporting a new bathing suit.

You study Derek, who's changed into swimming trunks. Cheetah print, obviously. Pfft. With the mullet and the animal print, he reminds you a lot of that one guy. What does he call himself? The... tiger king?

The thought makes you laugh, and Derek frowns.

"What's so funny?" He asks, eying you from the couch as he lounges with his feet up and his hands behind his head.

"Nothing. You look... nice." You nod to him, and give his body a quick once-over with your eyes. Definitely not checking him out. Not staring. At all.

Derek does the same to you, studying your choice of swimwear. You chose a one-piece swim dress, pink with a little pair of shorts built in under the skirt. It would be considered modest, if it weren't for the plunging neckline and the panel cut out of the back. Speaking of which...

"Hey, can you get my back for me?" You ask, holding up a bottle of sunscreen. That seems to break Derek out of his trance, and he sits up and pats the spot next to him on the couch.

"Sure, If you'll do mine."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is a little disappointed about your swimsuit choice at first, but then he takes in the low neckline. And the skirt... damn. He knew there was probably something under it, but he couldn't help but imagine there wasn't, just for a moment.

And now you're asking him to rub sunscreen on your back? Holy shit.

"Like this?" He asks, applying a generous amount of the cream to your back.

"Mhm."

He takes a little bit of liberty and gets your shoulders as well, gently rubbing your skin and tucking his hands under the straps of your swimsuit to make sure every inch is covered. He has to restrain himself from letting his hands roam further.

"Here, do mine for me." He drops the sunscreen bottle into your lap and turns, his back facing you.

Christ. Your hands on his back feel... heavenly. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from letting out a groan.

"There. You're all covered." You finish by giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, then standing up and stretching. Derek can't help but stare as you do, and suddenly, he wishes his shorts weren't so... thin.

He shakes himself and stands as well, heading for the door. As long as he has his back to you, you won't notice just how much he likes that swimsuit of yours.

Unfortunately... you don't fucking leave him alone. Of course.

"Wait, did you get the rest of your body?" You ask, grabbing the little beach bag you packed and scurrying to catch up with him.

"I'll be fine." He answers, shrugging it off and walking a little faster to stay ahead of you.

"That's stupid. You want to burn everywhere but your back?"

"I'm not going to burn, sweetheart. I just tan."

"Derek. At least get the rest of your torso. And face. Please?"

He winces as you finally catch up to him and grab his arm, but he's mostly calmed down now, so he just sighs and nods.

"Fine. But I'll do it myself."

You two walk down a wooden path that eventually gets buried in white sand as you approach the beach. It's beautiful, open and empty, untouched by anyone other than the Danforth family.

Derek sloppily applies sunscreen as he walks, slathering it on his torso, neck, and face. When he's done with his half-ass job, he turns to you and scowls.

"There. Happy now?"

"Hold on, you didn't rub it in all the way..." You gently swipe at his cheek with your hand, smiling.

"Stop that." He mumbles, pressing his hand to his cheek in the spot you just touched.

"Stop what?"

"Treating me like a child."

You seem taken aback by that answer, because you don't respond for a minute, trudging through the sand in silence.

"I'm not trying to treat you like a child. But your mom did task me with taking care of you, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a grown man and I have a goddamn babysitter." He growls, though he can't really find it in himself to feel angry. Being taken care of... doesn't sound too bad right now.

"Oh, boohoo. Come on. Lets go swim."

"Uhh... I think I'll stay here." He mutters, sitting down in the sand and watching you make your way over to the ocean. When you had suggested spending the day in the sand, he'd assumed you meant... well, literally staying in the sand.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You turn and frown as Derek plops down on the ground, refusing to budge.

"What? You scared to get a little wet?" You tease him, shouting to be heard over the waves. The cold water crashing over your ankles makes you shiver.

"No." He pouts, settling back against the beach bag you packed.

"Just... don't wanna."

That makes you even more confused. What's his deal? First he complains about being cooped up, then he refuses to go for a dip?

You trot back over to him, kicking up sand.

"Derek. Come on. I didn't do all this just to get blown off. Come swim with me." You tug on his arm, and he reluctantly gets up.

"I guess I could get my feet wet..." He scowls, looking at the ocean with disdain.

"You'll do more than that." You scold him, linking your arm in his and practically dragging him over to the water.

He makes a scrunched up face when the first wave hits him, washing over his feet and sinking his ankles into the sand.

When you try to tug him along further, he doesn't budge.

"I'm not getting in the water."

"Why not?" You finally ask, exasperated.

"I... I can't swim." He mumbles something, but the wind carries it away.

"What?"

"I can't swim." He groans, pulling away from you and burying his face in his hands.

This makes you pause, but only for a moment.

"Okay, then don't swim. Just come sit in the water." You make another grab for him, and he doesn't resist this time, letting you take him a few steps further. Once the water is about halfway to your knees, you lower yourself, and Derek sits beside you.

"This okay?" You ask, turning to look at him.

"It's cold. And wet."

"Yeah, that's... kinda how the ocean is."

You sit in silence for a few moments, until you finally clear your throat and speak up again.

"How have you gone this long without learning to swim? Don't you, like, host pool parties?"

"I mostly stick to the shallow end." He grumbles, shrugging the question off.

"Why not do the same here? Wade into waist-level with me?" You prod him with a finger, poking his side in a playful manner.

That just earns you a scowl.

"Because. There isn't a fucking shallow end in the ocean. It's... weird." He visibly shudders as he stares out into the endless waves, and shies back a bit.

You can tell this is a touchy subject for him, so you just sigh and let it go. Whatever. You can swim alone, right?

"Well, I'm going to go a little further in, you're welcome to join me."

With that, you stand and wade into the water, your walk turning to a paddle as the ground drops away beneath you. The ocean feels freeing, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a trance-like state.

When you finally glance back at Derek, you see he's already sitting in the sand again, positioned so the waves can just barely reach his feet. Hm. He must really have a thing about the water.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

That night, Derek lies in bed, tossing and turning as he tries to fight away his many thoughts on the day's activities.

He thinks about cooking breakfast with you, how you held his hand and praised him for his efforts.

And oh god, your touch. He can practically feel your hands on his back still.

Then at the beach... you hardly reacted to his lack of swimming prowess. Though, he was still a little bitter you fucked off without him and left him to sit in the sand.

You made up for it tenfold at dinner, letting him help you in the kitchen. He didn't want to admit it, but he genuinely enjoyed learning to cook. Even if it did feel so... domestic.

He can still hear the words you spoke to him ringing in his ears as he shuts his eyes tight and tries to sleep.

"See? You've got it. Just like that."

"You're a natural."

"Keep going. Almost there."

Fuck. He couldn't squander his thoughts of you, no matter how hard he tried.

And that wasn't even his worst problem. You'd managed to distract him pretty damn well throughout the day, always keeping him busy with something.

But now, alone in his room, his head was pounding again, and all he wanted was a hit of his vape. Or maybe a shot. Or some blow. Just anything to get rid of the goddamn headache.

He groans and sits up in bed, and moves to do the only thing he can think to do. Go see you.

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Author's note: Oh man. I dunno if I'm gonna be able to keep doing this whole "posting one chapter a day" thing for much longer. I originally intended this chapter to be 2k words, maybe 2.5k at most, but sheesh. It grew into this... and I wanted to write more, but stopped myself. It's currently 3am and I've worked on this for around 6 hours today.

Also... why did I make Derek unable to swim? Idk. Tertiary plot? The man doesn't have many personality traits in the cannon other than "douchebag rich brat with mommy issues". I'm trying to keep him in character, but it's hard when the character isn't all that fleshed out to begin with, so bear with me here.

ANYWAYS, hope y'all enjoy! Now is your time to send in Derek Danforth requests... cuz I'm writing this as I go along. Who knows? Maybe your suggestion will make it into the next chapter. & thank you to the anon who sent the kind words <3

Part 3

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #the beekeeper #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #slowburn fic #slowburn romance

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