#Jason statham

[reachedheavens]

rosie huntington-whiteley & jason statham

[dilfgifs]

JASON STATHAM as JONAS TAYLOR The Meg (2018) dir. Jon Turteltaub

[mavichivas]

[creme-delacrem]

Rose HW & Jason Statham

[1liv]

JASON STATHAM in THE MEG (2018)

[cinemabuffoon]

If I'm not supposed to have crushes on middle aged men then why are they so hot? Explain that political party of your choosing

[hunnam]

Jason Statham The Beekeeper (2024) dir. David Ayer

[mancandykings]

Jason Statham in the music video Comin’ On (1993) by The Shamen

[in-love-with-movies]

Snatch. (2000)

[theactioneer]

The Meg 2: The Trench (Ben Wheatley, 2023)

[stathampolishfan]

Jason Statham and motorbike .

[helloliriels]

PROTECT THE HIVE - The Beekeeper fan edit by helloliriels

Have this [🐝🐝🐝 yes, I finally watched it 🐝🐝🐝] What can I say? I'm here for Jason Statham and any kind of disaster ... 😏😎🤘

@johnlocky @fluffbyday-smutbynight @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @anyway-kindness @jawnn-watson @gaylilsherlock @topsyturvy-turtely @gregorovitch-adler @sarahthecoat @bluebellofbakerstreet @chriscalledmesweetie @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @wizama @john-smiths-jawline @kittenmadnessandtea @kitten-kin @jobooksncoffee @a-victorian-girl @ninasnakie @dragonnan @sgam76 @janetm74 @thetimemoves @thegildedbee @friday411 @ghostofnuggetspast @kettykika78 @calaisreno @discordantwords @raina-at @meetinginsamarra @arwamachine @loki-lock @theofficialinternetloner @actually-a-girls-name @maiaemerald @wssh13 @jolieblack @missdeliadili @masterofhounds @peanitbear @peageetibbs @zira-and-crowley @justanobsessedpan @7-percent @inatshej @iwlyanmw @forfucksakejohn

[felinecyan]

Brat Tamer

[Derek Danforth x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: With every brat in the universe, there is always one who can put them in their place. In the case of the president’s spoiled son, this case is no different.

WC: 1555

Category: Fluff, Comfort

I need some fluff for this man, so I made some fluff for this man 😤

『••✎••』

The second you heard the frustrated yell through the walls of the house, you knew it was going to be a rough day, not for the Danforth's, but for you.

Derek was always an interesting one, though his parents tried to make him blend in with the crowd. He was the epitome of a rich kid. And like many rich kids, he was a brat. However, the brattiness didn't come from his parents spoiling him. He had a natural sense of entitlement, but his parents never fueled the fire. If anything, they tried to keep him in line, but their methods were... well...ineffective.

They had money, which meant they could do anything to keep their son out of trouble. They paid off teachers, bribed the local law enforcement, and made sure everyone looked the other way when it came to Derek's behavior. But when his father unfortunately passed, and his mother became preoccupied with her own work, you were like an angel sent down from heaven in Wallace's eyes when Derek introduced you.

You didn't put up with his shit, and you weren't afraid to tell him off. It's why, out of all the girls fawning over him, he chose you. He picked you. The most headstrong, assertive girl he could find because you were exactly what he needed. And it wasn't like you were uninterested. You were always a sucker for a good romance, and Derek was the textbook definition of a tall (he's not, but he promises he's at least 5'7), dashingly handsome, brooding young man.

But as much as you cared about him, there were moments when you just wanted to throttle him, like now.

"I thought you said you could handle it!" Derek's voice boomed when you opened the office door. You found him in his usual spot, in front of the window, the phone pressed to his ear, his eyes trained on the pool where a few maids were doing laundry. "And here you are... doing everything BUT handling it."

He listened to whoever was on the other line for a few moments, then scoffed, "It's one fucking guy! How can he be giving you so much trouble?"

When his eyes locked onto yours, you raised your eyebrows expectantly. He motioned for you to come inside, then rolled his eyes, "No, no... just shut the fuck up for a minute. Let me think."

You took a seat in one of the plush armchairs and watched him pace around the room, still on the phone. It was a sight that should've been amusing, but instead, it was exhausting. It was too early to deal with Derek's temper.

He did look particularly stressed today, though. You knew something was off the moment you woke up to an empty bed. Very uncommon. Usually, Derek liked to sleep in. He was a late sleeper, and if he was forced out of bed before noon, he was a grouch.

But that morning, the bed was empty, pajamas were on the floor, and there was a half-empty mug of coffee on the bedside table. It was a rare occurrence, and it made you uneasy.

And now that you found him like this, you knew something was up.

"Are you going to hang up or what?" you finally asked after a few more minutes of watching him pace around the room. "Or am I just supposed to sit here and watch you stomp a hole into the floor?"

He ignored your comment and continued his conversation, though it was clear he wasn't paying attention. "Yeah...no, it's fine. Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like this is important or anything." He pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He tossed it onto the desk and dropped into the seat across from you.

"I pity you." You said. "That must've been a very stressful phone call."

"Oh, fuck you too."

You had to give it to him. He could always pick up on your sarcasm. "Alright, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He crossed his arms and turned his head to look out the window.

"Bullshit." You rolled your eyes, "I know when something's up. Now spill. What's wrong?"

He groaned, "Nothing, it's just this random guy keeps fucking with me and the business. He's a fucking nuisance, and now I'm forced to deal with him. It's ridiculous."

"Oh, really?" you leaned forward, "So it's nothing, then? Just a little setback of you being forced to do your actual job?"

He looked at you like you were the devil. He could tell you weren't going to stop, and he didn't have the energy to fight. So he gave in, "Look, it's this guy, okay? I don't know who he is or what his deal is, but he's a fucking thorn in my side. Mickey says he's like... a bee lover or some shit. I don't know what the fuck he's talking about, but it's annoying."

"Bee lover?" You asked, "As in, a beekeeper? or a Vanessa Bloome fanatic?"

If looks could kill, the glare he gave you would've left you in a puddle of blood, but there was also a little twinkle of amusement in his eye, "Can you not reference that fucking animated movie for a single fucking second?"

"Not likely," You said with a smile, "Now, can we please move on from the random bee thing and get back to you and I?"

"There is no 'you and I," he said, "I have a problem. I was handling it. You have no place in this."

"Well, I do now," you said. You got up from your seat and made your way over to his chair. "You woke me up this morning. You have a problem, and I'm the only one who can help."

He shook his head, "Fuck off. I can handle this."

"Really?" you challenged him, "Because I'm pretty sure I can handle it better than you."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me yourself, coward," you joked and ran your hands over his shoulders. It is quite hilarious how quickly his attitude changed. A few gentle touches and he was like a putty, caving beneath your fingertips.

Even his mother was shocked. You were the first person to ever have a positive effect on Derek's behavior. Usually, he would push anyone who touched him away, and if he liked them, he was even rougher.

But with you, it was a different story. He loved it when you touched him. He melted in your hands, groaned when they massaged the knots out of his neck and purred when they brushed his hair back. He loved it, and it was the ultimate power play.

"We're not talking about this." he sighed, "It's a stupid idea. Besides, I need you to—"

"What do you need me to do?" You asked. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, then his jaw.

He hummed and reached a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you down to meet him for a proper kiss. When you parted, he was looking at you with dark eyes, "You have no idea how much I fucking love you."

"I have an idea," you said, "But it's always nice to hear you say it."

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off," he said. He pulled you in for another kiss, this time letting his tongue trace along your bottom lip. He tasted like coffee, the spoiled brat kind that had an absurd amount of sugar in it and was probably worth more than a kidney. It was a taste that grew on you, just like the man.

You straddled his waist and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close while you deepened the kiss. His hands roamed down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs running over the exposed skin of your midriff.

"How about some pancakes for our Mr. Problem Solver, hm?" you offered when you parted, "You know, a good ol' breakfast to help start your day."

He scoffed and kissed the corner of your lips, "What are you? My maid?"

"With how you act? It would be more appropriate to call me your mom," you teased.

"Okay, that's gross."

You chuckled and kissed his forehead, "So is your obsession with that… well, you know. Still, I endure."

He groaned and pushed you off his lap, "Don't remind me."

"Come on, you have a big day ahead of you." You took his hand and pulled him up, leading him out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen, "Let's go solve some problems, starting with the missing syrup."

He let you pull him along, not even bothering to make a snide remark.

It was one of the many things you loved about him. No matter how much he complained, he would let you have your way. It was an odd feeling, having someone who was so used to getting their way to bend to your will. But he never seemed to mind, especially not when you made it worthwhile.

In fact, you'd argue he enjoyed it. You enjoyed it. The thrill of being able to order him around, to have him follow every one of your commands, was invigorating. And Derek, the stubborn man that he was, found comfort in someone telling him what to do.

It was a match made in heaven.

[mysharona1987]

But you are literally vaporised and disintegrated by the wrath of the ocean in a millisecond.

There isn’t a real way to get out of that.

Unless you star in The Meg 2.

In which case you are apparently fine. Because Jason Statham is around and the ocean won’t mess with him.

[in-love-with-movies]

Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998)