#the beekeeper

[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.

[chappellsroans]

JOSH HUTCHERSON as DEREK DANFORTH

The Beekeeper (2024) dir. David Ayer

[wakeupthewublins]

saw A Working Man. fun Jason Statham action film. not nearly as good as The Beekeeper, but still fun per usual. I love these “protecting and cherishing kindness” Statham films.

I think it would have benefitted to have WAY more bonding/connecting scenes and stuff with the family like beekeeper did

[snowbairdd]

Josh Hutcherson as Derek Danforth in THE BEEKEEPER (2024) dir. David Ayer

[hunnam]

Jason Statham The Beekeeper (2024) dir. David Ayer

[thekat-alystreview]

Movie Review - The Beekeeper

If you’ve ever thought to yourself, “What if John Wick had even less subtle symbolism, more bee puns, and a protagonist whose defining trait is being an unstoppable force of nature with no real struggle?”—then, boy, do I have the movie for you.

The Beekeeper doesn’t just take inspiration from John Wick; it lifts entire structural elements from it but without the same care in execution. On the surface, the setup seems familiar: a quiet but deadly man living in isolation is pulled back into a world of violence when someone he cares about is harmed. Except where John Wick used this premise to create an emotionally charged, tightly paced revenge thriller, The Beekeeper turns it into a clumsy, over-the-top action flick that mistakes exposition dumps and bee-related metaphors for depth.

A Familiar Premise, Done Worse

In John Wick, the death of the dog wasn’t just a cheap emotional trigger; it was a symbol of Wick’s last tie to his late wife and a representation of his attempt at a normal life. When it was taken from him, it justified his descent back into violence, making every action scene feel like an extension of his grief and rage. The Beekeeper, on the other hand, replaces this with an elderly woman who lets the protagonist, Adam Clay (Jason Statham), live in her shed. She gets scammed, loses everything, and kills herself. The emotional weight of this is almost entirely absent because the film barely establishes their relationship before using her death as nothing more than an excuse for Clay to start killing people. There’s no real exploration of grief, no sense that this loss is deeply personal to him—it just happens to set off the plot.

The Hollow Imitation of a Secret Society

One of John Wick’s greatest strengths is the Continental, a meticulously crafted criminal underworld with its own rules, codes, and consequences. It’s a world that feels lived-in, with a history that extends beyond the main character. The Beekeeper desperately wants to have something similar, introducing a vague, secret organization of former operatives called Beekeepers (because symbolism), but it never does anything interesting with the concept. The movie constantly reminds you that being a Beekeeper is a big deal, but never actually defines what that means outside of “super soldier who is really good at killing people.” The title is treated like an all-powerful badge of intimidation, to the point that a high-ranking government official has an "oh shit" moment just from hearing it—again, mirroring the John Wick scene where Viggo Tarasov realizes his son messed with the Baba Yaga. Except here, there’s no real sense of world-building or weight behind it; it’s just a cheap attempt to make Clay seem more intimidating without actually developing his character.

Action Without Stakes

Where John Wick built tension by making its protagonist struggle, get hurt, and earn his victories, The Beekeeper takes the opposite approach: Clay is never in any real danger. He moves through every fight like an unkillable machine, mowing down enemies without so much as a scratch. There’s no desperation, no sense that he has to push himself beyond his limits—he’s just an unstoppable killing force from start to finish. This removes any sense of stakes or investment in the action sequences. The few times the film tries to throw in a unique kill, like using a rope trap to crush people or stapling a guy in the face for information, it’s more laughable than impressive.

Even the film’s attempts at big, explosive action set pieces feel lazy. At one point, Clay blows up an entire building using nothing but two cans of gasoline. Not only is this wildly unrealistic (gasoline burns, it doesn’t explode), but it’s emblematic of how the movie approaches spectacle: loud, nonsensical, and completely unearned. The same goes for a later scene where he blows up a gas station with nothing but gunfire—because apparently, every action movie still thinks shooting a gas pump is a guaranteed explosion.

The FBI Subplot (AKA Runtime Padding 101)

To further stretch things out, the movie introduces an FBI subplot that exists solely to pad the runtime. One of the agents is played by Emmy Raver-Lampman (Umbrella Academy’s Alison), and much like in that show, her character is written in a way that makes her more annoying than compelling. The FBI’s involvement never feels essential to the story; they’re just there to chase after Clay in an attempt to inject some conflict, even though we all know they won’t actually stop him.

The Final Insult: The Villain Reveal

The film’s “big twist” is that the man Clay has been hunting—the one responsible for his inciting incident—is the son of the President of the United States.

Not only is this hilariously over-the-top, but the movie fumbles it in the worst way possible: by casting an actor with a British accent and making no effort to explain why the American president (played by the ever-talented Jemma Redgrave, whom, as a Doctor Who fan, I absolutely love) sounds like she just walked out of London. Either the actor couldn't do an American accent, or we're supposed to believe the U.S. elected a British president. Either way, it’s a missed opportunity for Redgrave, who is an incredibly talented actor and truly deserves to be in a better movie than this. I can’t help but think how much more she could have done with a better script, as her performance here is wasted on a film that never lets her shine.

Final Verdict

Ultimately, The Beekeeper is a perfect example of what happens when a movie copies another film’s structure without understanding why it worked. It mimics John Wick’s setup, its secret society element, its “unstoppable assassin” protagonist, and even its world reacting in fear to his reputation. But where John Wick had emotional depth, intricate world-building, and carefully crafted action, The Beekeeper just throws together disconnected set pieces, overuses bee metaphors, and expects the audience to be impressed by how invincible its protagonist is.

Would I recommend it? Only if you want to watch John Wick’s discount cousin who spends half the movie making bee puns. Otherwise, just rewatch John Wick—or even one of its many imitators that at least put in a little more effort.

[jhutchsversion]

and if he only has 10 minutes of screen time? i’ll be seated for it.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

mama's boy

pairing: derek danforth x gn!reader

summary: derek always answers when his mom calls, no matter what or who he's doing

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fwb!reader, smut, exhibitionism, sneaky sex during a phone call, unprotected/unspecified penetration, creampie, spanking, dirty talk, mommy issues

words: 1.5k

a/n: this is my first gn!reader smut so please please lmk if any descriptions don't work <3

Derek's phone barely rings twice before he picks up.

You're not sure why he answered at all when he's already busy fucking you, but he doesn't stop, even after he murmurs a greeting into the mic and tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder. He just continues to bounce you on his lap while he talks to whoever's on the line, managing to keep his voice steady save for a few hitched breaths.

"I was just thinking about you," he says casually as if his fingers aren't digging into your ass right now, dragging you up and down his cock, your walls gripping him like a vice.

You're already a mess after an hour of edging and teasing, and you're surprised the mic hasn't picked up the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours. To your ears, it's obvious what's happening on Derek's side of the call, but the lack of response from the other end leads you to believe they still haven't caught on.

He speaks again, a little breathier this time. "I miss you. I was hoping to maybe see you this weekend."

His eyes don't leave yours as he purrs sweetly into the phone, attention divided between holding up his end of the conversation and continuing to withhold the orgasm you rightfully deserve. There's an unspoken warning in his gaze telling you to stay quiet, but the harder he fucks you, the more difficult it gets.

His hand slides up to tweak a nipple, and you realize he's testing you. Playing with you, daring you to make a sound. Part of you wants to, especially if he's going to say shit like that to someone else while he's buried balls deep.

You clench around him in retaliation, but aside from his fingers tensing on your hip, he seems totally unaffected. The asshole actually has the audacity to look amused like he's enjoying his little game.

"I'll behave," he tells the mysterious caller with surprising ease. But then, he cups your cheek and drags his thumb along your bottom lip, and you know his next words aren't meant for them. He's speaking directly to you. "I promise. I'll be good, just for you."

He slips his thumb into your mouth, and you have to resist the urge to bite him. He's a goddamn liar. If he's not going to behave, then why should you? Giving into the impulse, you nip at his finger, taking him by surprise. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, and finally, it's audible enough for them to question it.

He tries to brush off their suspicion, but it's obvious he's busy. He sounds less believable with every word, and more like he's doing something he really shouldn't be on a business call.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's nothing, just some of the guys fucking around," he bites out. But then, he unexpectedly mutes the call. If the searing look on his face is any indication, you're in trouble now.

"C'mon baby, I know you can do better than that—unless you want me to take this call somewhere else and let you take care of yourself."

You shake your head frantically, hating how quickly you fold at his dominance, even though he's still acting like an arrogant prick.

"You gonna be good for me?"

You nod. If you hadn't already experienced how hard he can make you cum, you'd probably put up more of a fight. But you have—and you know it's more than worth your silence.

Satisfied, he cradles the back of your head and pulls you down for a bruising kiss before unmuting the call.

"Yo, shut the fuck up," he says a little louder like he's actually telling off his boys instead of you. Then, his expression turns downright sinister. "My mom's on the phone. Have some fucking respect."

You gasp before you can stop yourself. There's no way in hell the fucking President of the United States is listening to you fuck her son—and yet, it suddenly makes perfect sense why he picked up the phone in the first place. Derek and his mommy issues.

He slaps your ass in response, another warning, but his subtle smirk betrays him. Sick fuck. He likes this. He thinks he's so smooth, so above consequences. It's why he didn't bother to lock the door when he dragged you into his late father's office and pulled you onto his lap, uncaring of who might walk in and see him fucking you dumb.

And he's right. Consequences don't exist for someone like Derek Danforth. Not even from mommy, who would never let anything happen to her handsome baby boy. Even if she did notice, she'd probably just scoff and tell him not to get caught by anyone that matters.

That's power. God, you wish that didn't turn you on so much.

He plants his feet firmly on the ground and forces your upper half to the side so he can see around you, watching how tightly you grip him as he plunges in and out of you. His pace is brutal now, and you can feel that telltale heat building low in your stomach.

Through all of it, he still somehow manages to ping-pong back and forth between replying to his mom and urging you to cum for him. His voice is strained, and even though you can't see his face anymore, you can tell how flushed he must be, his eyes likely rolled back at how slick and warm you feel around him.

"C'mon, give it to me. So fucking tight, I know you're close," he mutters just loud enough for you to hear before he switches back to being her doting son.

"Don't worry about the donors, I'll handle it. Just—," you accidentally cut him off with an involuntary clench, and he bites back a groan, "—the party's for you, just enjoy yourself. Y-you...you've earned it."

You're about to earn it, too, though you probably don't deserve it. Not when you're whimpering pathetically into the aged leather of his father's armchair, overwhelmed by how much his thick cock stretches you out.

By now, Derek's either too far gone to hear it or doesn't care enough to scold you. His thighs tremble violently beneath you, and his thrusts are getting sloppy and uncoordinated like he's just as close as you are.

"Fuuuuck," he lets out a pained growl when he finally hones in on your sweet spot. He doesn't hold back, abusing it until you're spasming dangerously around him and on the verge of tears.

There's no way she can't hear him now, but that doesn't stop him from babbling incoherently as his pleasure peaks. "Oh my fucking god, baby, you're gonna make me—fuck, I'm...m'gonna—"

But you tumble over the edge first, cumming so hard, your vision whites out.

"I—shit, something just came up. I-I gotta go," he croaks hurriedly into the mic, your convulsing walls and muffled moans seconds away from making him blow his load. "Some emergency, I don't know. I just—sorry, I really gotta go," he grits through his teeth, desperately trying to hold on, to be respectful and let his mom finish talking, but it's way too late. "Yeah, love you, too—"

He abruptly sits up and wraps his arms around you, his phone toppling to the floor as he holds you in place and roughly empties his balls into you. Warm spurts coat your walls and dribble onto his thighs as he ruts into you, loud enough to rival the squeaking chair being pushed to its limit below you.

Yet, nothing in that room is louder than Derek. He hauls you up and crashes his lips into yours, whining pathetically into your mouth as he rides out both of your highs. His hands are everywhere—grabbing your ass and waist, wrapped loosely around your throat—while you milk every last drop from his body.

When the aftershocks subside and sensitivity sets in, he finally pulls away but doesn't pull out. Whether it's to avoid staining the furniture or keep you plugged up so his release doesn't leak out, you're not totally sure. But his body language, satisfied and boneless and so pleased with himself, leads you to believe it's the latter.

Of course, Derek doesn't give a shit about the furniture. He probably just likes the idea of you walking around the rest of the day with his cum soaking your underwear.

"See what happens when you do what I tell you?" he smirks, lazily stroking your hip with his thumb.

You roll your eyes. "Oh, fuck you. I hope your mom's party is awkward as fuck now that she knows the weird, kinky shit you're into."

"I wouldn't wish that on yourself, baby. You'll be there, too."

"Excuse me?" you blurt out incredulously.

He just laughs, keeping his arm tucked around you while he bends down to snatch his phone off the floor. The screen lights up with a new text message—from Mom.

"Try not to be so loud at the fundraiser. Press will be there, and the last thing I need is another reporter to pay off."

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

[kimgmac63]

[freak-accident419]

High On You

Derek Danforth x GN!AFAB!Reader

Summary: You read over the statistics and analytics for Derek’s company, as he requested. Except, while you do this, you’re on his bed, lower half of your body exposed as he does lines of cocaine on your thigh—then he eats you out.

WC: 1.2k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, derek danforth x reader (gn!afab!reader), oral (v!receiving), no spoilers for The Beekeeper, brief (yet detailed) cocaine/drug use, graphic depictions of sex and drugs (this is probably the filthiest thing i ever wrote on here), cursing

(A/n: I couldn’t wait to write it, so here !! Haven’t watched the movie yet, but if I notice that there’s anything incorrect here once I do, I’ll go back and change it ! I’m so sorry to my AMAB readers and/or the AFAB readers who get dysphoria from this type of writing !! You can check out my other smuts that aren’t genital-specific !! Love you all!! And thanks to everyone for your support !! Anyways, I think that Derek doing coke on the reader is such a Derek thing to do.)

Tags: @thehermitsaltar @coriolanussnowswife @moonlight-rosevine @harrysflorist @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @joshhutchersons-slut

-

Your rich boyfriend, Derek Danforth, asked you to read over the statistics and analytics of his phishing center, informing him how much money he’s earned in the past week.

Except it wasn’t a very professional or orderly way.

You laid on his bed, looking at the information on your phone, reading how much millions were gained on Thursday, while your entire lower body was naked. You two were always a very intimate couple, so this wasn’t new or had invoked any feelings of diffidence, as your legs were spread out across the mattress.

He snorted a line of cocaine, pressing down on one of his nostrils to inhale the drug after spilling the white powder onto your thigh and scraping it into several thin lines using one of his credit cards. It felt tingly, to have him do this on your thigh, his head ever so close to your cunt. While this occurred, his free hand was resting on your other bare thigh.

He let out an ecstatic groan afterward, and then looked at you as his high rushed in. “What—What’d you say again, baby?”

You chuckle softly at his mannerisms. “I said that in total, for Thursday at least, UDG obtained, like, over six fucking million,” you reply, looking over the statistics on your phone again. “Business is booming.”

Derek smirked as he was satisfied to hear the news. “Damn fuckin’ right it is.”

His body slightly tensed up as he quickly inhaled another white line on your thigh through his nostril, briefly rubbing his nose afterwards. The sharp inhale caused him to feel a surge of euphoria throughout his body as the drugs entered his system. His eyes closed in pleasure, then opened, pupils slightly dilated.

You watched him do this, taking a short drag of your cigarette. “Last week’s average was five point two million dollars,” you add, observing him as he corrected the final line with the card, straightening it out onto your thigh.

“So what was the total earned in that week?” He inquired as your cigarette remained hanging from your mouth.

“Thirty-six million dollars, baby,” you answer proudly while he inhales the last line quite harshly, and heard him whoop as he gained exhilaration from both the drug and the statistics.

You finally place your phone down on the night stand to give full attention to your boyfriend. You bring your hand to his hair, tangling his soft, light curls in your fingers. “Congratulations,” you praise gently, watching Derek close his eyes in pleasure, leaving a small kiss on your thigh.

He placed the package of coke on the night stand and adjusted himself on the bed between your legs. He continued to leave soft kisses on your thigh, gradually trailing towards your untouched pussy.

“Mm, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He observed, demonstrating a hint of pity. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he huffs, pulling your hips closer to his face as he finally licked up your cunt in an animalistic fashion.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers still in his hair, and you grab the cigarette out of your mouth, immediately putting it out on the ashtray.

Derek’s warm tongue caressed along your folds exuberantly, moving up and down as your breath hitched. He gripped your thighs tightly, pushing his face even further in your cunt. You let out a gasp—almost a moan—as he flicked your clit with his tongue, stimulating the sensitive nub which elicited even more intense sounds from your mouth.

“O-oh, fuck, Derek!” You moaned as you felt him suck at your clit, closing his lips around it while lightly moving his hands up and down from your thighs to your sensitive hips, thumb pushing down on your pelvic bone for a brief moment, causing more pleasure within you. “S-so good, love… Fuck, yes.”

He lapped at your dripping pussy once more, threatening to poke inside each time his tongue ran over your entrance. He incessantly licked at you, so desperately and lustfully, occasionally tugging at your flesh between his soft lips.

“Taste s’fucking good,” he mutters between his rapid licks, “S’fucking good for me Y/n…” He rubbed off some leftover powder on your thigh, messily inhaling it through his nose for enhanced stimulus.

Your thighs jolting as you let out a high-pitched whine once you felt his tongue finally push inside your wet, aching cunt. He was eating you out as if you were forbidden fruit, because he would rather die than never be able to taste you. Pleasing to the eye, he really couldn’t help it. He was practically making out with your pussy, exploring your walls with his generous tongue.

Your legs closed around his head and you brought both of your hands to his hair, tugging his curls, which gets a muffled groan out of him, the vibration causing you to feel even more pleasure. Your breath hitched and you choked out a moan as you felt his nose bumping against your clit as he ate you out. Derek felt so hazy and foggy from his high, and because everything was so sensitive for him, he could practically cum untouched from how much arousal he gained from pleasing you. Not only was he high on cocaine, but he was also high on your taste, and hearing you moan was his ultimate addiction.

“Sh-shit, Derek…” Your head turned to the side tiredly, eyes threatening to close as you felt overwhelmed with all the stimulation. Derek hooked one of his arms around your thigh so he could place his hand warmly on your stomach, below your belly button yet over your cunt, now focusing more on his precision.

You felt yourself closer to your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing onto you each second. Derek slipped his tongue out, just to spread your pussy lips apart with his fingers, and then lap his tongue against your cunt again sloppily, making your thighs twitch, incoherent whimpers escaping your mouth. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot…” he mumbles.

You let out a high-pitched moan as his long, slender middle finger inserted into you effortlessly, quick, deep thrusts provoking wet, vulgar squelches while he simultaneously sucked your clit again. He pulled out his finger smoothly, abrasively running it between your soaked folds, then pushed it back in deeply.

“G-God! Fuck!” You whined, back arching as you succumbed to his touch. Abruptly, he spit on your cunt, lapped his tongue on you, switching constantly between your folds and your clit. You felt a knot in your stomach, in which Derek’s free hand had still remained resting on it. His licks were fast and rough, and you felt yourself being driven over the edge. “G—Fuck, Derek, b-baby, I-I’m—”

“That’s it, that’s it, baby,” he encouraged softly in between licks. He looked at you hungrily with his deep brown eyes, “Cum for me.”

The second you heard his command, you came hard around his finger, moaning his name loudly as he slipped it out to desperately taste your juices, him groaning in your cunt. You whimpered and shuddered uncontrollably, his insistent touch bringing you to overstimulation. He kissed it a few times, then brought himself up from the mattress to make you with you, lips moving with yours as it allowed you to taste yourself.

“Fucking love you,” he muttered in the kiss. “So good for me, Y/n, fuck.” He held you in his arms softly, being as gentle as he could, rubbing your arms up and down comfortingly. The room smelled like sex, as the atmosphere consisted of only your deep breaths and the soft, wet smacking of your kisses.

“Fuck,” you panted, and the corner of your lips curled into a relieved smile until you kissed him again. “I love you too.”

[sleepyhutcherson]

because i just watched the beekeeper and im obsessing over josh’s character.

contains: brief nsfw nothing too detailed!!

derek danforth who will lay his head on your lap, shoes on the expensive sofa, whining for you to play with his hair whenever he’s feeling overwhelmed. ofc you comply.

derek danforth who most definitely has a nipple piercing.

derek danforth who loves to pull your hair whenever you guys are fucking. he loves to have his fingers tangled up in your hair, tugging at it to hear you whine.

derek danforth who gets jealous easily. whenever you guys are out at parties he has to have you by his side at all times. he pulls you closer to him, his arm always wrapped around your waist.

derek danforth who will glare at whoever’s looking at you for a little too long. “that guy’s looking at you.” he says, jaw clenched while he glares across the room at the guy. you grab his arm, barely even glancing the man who’s been checking you out. “don’t worry. i only have eyes for you.” you whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. he makes sure the guy is still looking at you when he grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a rough, lustful kiss.

derek danforth who will then pull you into a room to fuck you. he’ll make sure to mark you, leaving hickies all over your neck and collar bones in hopes that that’ll stop anyone else from staring at you.

derek danforth who makes sure that the guy who was checking you out notices all the marks he’s left you, grinning at him before pulling you away from the guy’s view.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Easy Money

Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader

Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?

Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.

Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.

                       •°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.

The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.

I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.

The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.

The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.

All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.

The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.

Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.

A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.

"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."

The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.

My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.

Right now, anyways.

A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.

"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.

"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.

"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.

"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.

"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.

Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.

"You like the party?" He asks.

"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."

"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."

"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.

"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.

... what?

My confusion must be obvious.

"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.

"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.

"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.

"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."

"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Ah," I say. Derek.

Derek!

"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.

"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.

"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.

"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."

"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.

Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.

"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.

"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"

No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.

"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.

"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.

"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."

Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.

His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.

His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.

"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.

Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.

He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.

"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"

"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.

"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."

Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.

Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.

Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.

I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.

Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.

"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.

I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.

"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.

"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.

"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."

"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."

The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.

"You mind if we help you?" She asks.

"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."

The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.

"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"

The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.

The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.

The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.

"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.

"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.

I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.

"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.

"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.

"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.

Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."

The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.

A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.

"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.

I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.

"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.

"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."

"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.

"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.

"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."

Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.

"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"

I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.

"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.

"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.

"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."

I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.

"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.

Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.

"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.

"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.

"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."

Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."

I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.

"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."

"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"

Too long. Much too long.

It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.

"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.

"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.

"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"

I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.

"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."

"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.

"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"

"What toy?" I ask.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."

Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.

"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."

Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.

"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."

I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.

"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.

"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.

"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.

"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.

"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.

The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.

I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.

My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.

"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.

"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.

People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.

"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.

I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.

Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"

I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.

"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.

I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.

"You look big," I mutter.

"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."

I think I will.

It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.

"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.

Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.

"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?

I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.

"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.

"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."

Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.

"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."

True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.

"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.

Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.

"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"

I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.

"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.

"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.

"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"

I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.

"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.

"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.

Cabo??

"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?

"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"

"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"

I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.

"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.

"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.

"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.

"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."

Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.

"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.

"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."

"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."

Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.

"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."

His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.

"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."

My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.

"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."

My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.

"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."

I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.

A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?

"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.

"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.

He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.

"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.

One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.

As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.

"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."

My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.

"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.

"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"

His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.

"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.

"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"

Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.

"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."

"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.

"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."

"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.

His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.

"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."

His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.

This is a hell of a paycheck.

"I like it," I say. He chuckles.

"That's not enough," he says.

"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.

"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.

"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.

"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."

He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.

"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.

"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."

It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?

"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."

"And you want me?"

"Fuck yeah."

He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.

"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.

"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"

"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.

"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.

"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."

I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.

"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.

Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.

"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."

His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."

I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.

"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.

Masterlist

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3

[craynekiller]

Here’s some more of Josh being a cutie patootie because why tf not?

[mockingjaysnakes]

DEREK DANFORTH IN SUITS.

[joshfutturman]

something evil is happening inside of me

i have 2 hands for a reason