#derek danforth x male!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lefteagleblizzard · 1 year ago

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ℭ𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: Life as a college student was hectic. You had always noticed Mike Schmidt, the quiet, brooding neighbor who lived just a few houses down. Though he was about five years older than you, that gap only fueled the intrigue and admiration you felt toward him. You admired the way he balanced his responsibilities, especially his care for his younger sister, Abby. Over the years, this admiration blossomed into a deep-seated crush that you couldn't quite shake off. Today, you finally got the chance to talk to him again after so much time due to you going to college.

Warnings: Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Strangers/Friends to lovers. Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Handjob (M receiving). Anal sex.

Words count: 5000

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

This is different from the usual gender-neutral stuff I write, and I’m sorry to those who are used to them. I’m just so sad about never being able to find a male reader story, something that I can relate to. Your support and understanding mean a lot to me!

You had always noticed Mike Schmidt, the quiet, brooding neighbor who lived just a few houses down. Though he was about five years older than you, that gap only fueled the intrigue and admiration you felt toward him.

Over the years, you often saw him in the mornings when he returned from work, his expression weary but softened when he exchanged a word or two with your father.

Those fleeting moments were enough to plant a growing crush in your heart, a mix of admiration and something deeper you couldn't quite name.

One crisp morning, as you grabbed your backpack, ready to head out to college, you ran into him.

Literally.

You were in such a rush that you barely noticed him until you bumped into his solid frame on the sidewalk.

"Whoa, sorry about that," he chuckled, a warm sound that made your heart race. His hazel eyes, always a bit shadowed with fatigue, brightening just a little at the sight of you.

His hair was slightly tousled, and there was a shadow of stubble on his chin, which somehow made him even more attractive.

The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, a reaction you were becoming increasingly familiar with but were still not quite used to.

You felt your cheeks heat up, embarrassed by your clumsiness but secretly thrilled to be talking to him. "You're in a hurry, aren't you?"

His voice was deep and warm, like a comforting blanket after a long day.

You laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, running late as usual. What about you? Just getting back from work?"

"Yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his neck in a way you found endearing. His movements were tired yet graceful, revealing the strain of long nights but also a quiet resilience you admired. "Long night, But hey, it's good to finally bump into you —literally."

"You're looking... good." You regretted your choice of words almost immediately, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.

Mike chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting, as if he was genuinely pleased by your compliment. "Thanks. You look great too. College must be treating you well."

"Thanks," you murmured, trying to hide your blush and not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

"The usual chaos. It's busy, but I'm hanging in there. I guess I'm learning a lot, though some days it feels more like I'm just trying to survive."

He chuckled, nodding knowingly. "Sounds about right. I remember those days, even if they were a bit short-lived for me. Dropping out to take care of Abby was the right choice, but sometimes I wonder what it would've been like to finish."

The way he spoke, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and acceptance, made your heart ache. You admired him for the sacrifices he made. "You did what you had to do. Abby's lucky to have you looking out for her."

You stood there, both hesitant yet unwilling to end the conversation. It had been a while since you'd last talked. Life, college, and his busy schedule made these interactions rare. But when they happened, they were the highlight of your week. There was a warmth to his presence, a comforting steadiness that contrasted with the chaos of your daily life.

"So, how's Abby doing?" you asked, shifting the weight of your backpack on your shoulder. You knew how much she meant to him and how hard he fought to keep her happy and safe.

"She's great," Mike said, a genuine smile breaking through his usual guarded demeanor. His eyes softened, a hint of pride and affection in them. "Growing up way too fast, though. She actually asked about you the other day.

The idea that Abby remembered you, even though you'd only met a few times, warmed your heart. You tried to picture her as you remembered-a bright, inquisitive little girl who could light up a room with her laughter. "That's sweet. I should stop by more often."

"Yeah, you should," he replied, a glint in his beautiful hazel eyes that made your heart skip a beat. There was something earnest in his tone, something that suggested he wouldn't mind having you around more often. "She misses having someone around who doesn't mind her endless questions."

"I don't mind at all," you said quickly, realizing how eager you sounded. "In fact, I like talking to her. She's a really smart kid."

"She is," Mike agreed, his expression softening further.

"And you?" The question slipped out before you could stop it. "How are things going with... you know, the custody stuff?"

A shadow crossed his face, and you regretted bringing it up. You watched as his shoulders tensed slightly, and the easy smile slipped a notch.

"It's... it's been tough. My aunt's not making it any easier," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. There was a pause, a moment of shared understanding of the challenges he faced. You admired his strength, how he continued to push forward despite everything.

Your temper flared at the thought of the obstacles thrown his way. "That woman is just—" You caught yourself, but not before an unsavory word slipped out.

You covered your mouth, horrified, but Mike just laughed, a sound that was more soothing than you'd anticipated.

"You're not wrong," he said, his laughter fading into a soft smile. "But it's nice to know someone's on my side. You're cute when you're mad, you know that?"

The compliment caught you off guard, heat rushing to your cheeks. You tried to brush it off with a smile, but inside, you were glowing. He noticed, of course, but chose to let it slide.

"Well, I just... I hope things work out for you, Mike. You deserve that."

His gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in his eyes. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you and if he could sense the emotions you tried so hard to keep under wraps.

"Thanks. It means a lot coming from you" Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he added, "I need to find a new babysitter for Abby. The last one quit because, well, I can't really afford much right now."

Without thinking, you blurted out, "I could do it!" you offered eagerly, almost too quickly, the words spilling out before you had a chance to reconsider.

The offer hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you worried you'd overstepped.

But you couldn't help it. The thought of spending more time with him, getting to know him and Abby better, was too enticing to pass up.

Mike studied you, his expression softening. His eyes held a mix of surprise and gratitude, and you noticed how his lips curved up slightly at the edges, almost as if he was trying not to show too much emotion. "You'd really do that?"

"Of course," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the hammering of your heart. "I mean, I have some free time, and honestly, my college roommate is loud and annoying. Plus, I'd love to help."

He smiled, and it reached his eyes this time. There was a warmth there that seemed to envelop you, drawing you in. "That'd be great. I can't promise much in terms of payment, though."

"Don't worry about it," you said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'd be happy to help. It's not about the money. I'd love to help out, really. I've missed seeing you guys around."

Your heart pounded in your chest, both from the rush of making the offer and from the hope that he would accept.

The way he looked at you then, with a mixture of gratitude and something else— something hopeful—made you believe this was the start of something more.

You felt your heart flutter, a thrilling sensation that made you wonder if maybe he felt something too. "You're really something," he said softly, almost to himself.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even as your heart soared. "Just trying to do what I can."

"Well, thanks. Really," he said, his voice earnest. "It's nice to see you again after so long.

You nodded, feeling warmth spread through you at his words. "Yeah, it's good to see you to, Mike."

As you both parted ways, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder Mike was doing the same, and when your eyes met, he waved. You waved back, feeling a flutter of excitement.

This new arrangement was more than just a job; it was a chance to see him, to learn more about the man who had quietly captured your heart. And maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something that could change both your lives for the better.

As you walked away, your mind replayed the conversation. You noticed how Mike seemed to pay close attention to your words, how he listened intently as if every word mattered. It was a rare quality, one that made you feel truly seen and heard. You couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface of his smiles and laughter, if perhaps he harbored feelings that mirrored your own

Mike's presence lingered with you throughout the day, the memory of his rare smile and warm gaze etched into your thoughts. You found yourself imagining the moments you would share while babysitting Abby, the possibility of spending more time with Mike, getting to know him on a deeper level.

As you reached campus with a heart full of excitement and a mind brimming with thoughts of Mike, you headed into the day, eager for what the future might hold.

The first day of babysitting Abby was a mix of nerves and excitement. As you approached Mike's modest home, a cozy littie house with a well-kept garden, you couldn't help but feel a rush of anticipation and a bit of anxiety. You wanted to make a good impression and hoped that Abby would like you as much as you liked her brother.

Abby greeted you at the door, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of shyness. She was a bright, energetic girl with dark hair and a mischievous grin that reminded you so much of Mike. Her presence was immediately infectious, and you felt any lingering anxiety melt away.

"Hi, Abby! I'm here to hang out with you while your brother's at work. How does that sound?" you asked, bending down to her level, hoping to convey friendliness and approachability.

She nodded, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm as if she had been eagerly anticipating your arrival. "Okay! Can we play with my toys?" Her excitement was palpable, and it was impossible not to be drawn into her world.

"Of course," you replied, smiling as she grabbed your hand and pulled you inside with a surprising amount of strength for such a small person. You were grateful for her enthusiasm, feeling your own spirits lift at the prospect of spending the day with her.

The hours flew by as you played games, read stories, and even painted together. Abby had a vivid imagination, and you found it easy to connect with her. She was talkative, often sharing stories about her day and asking about yours.

Her innocence and curiosity were refreshing, a welcome escape from the complexities of adult life.

"Do you like my brother?" Abby asked innocently, her eyes wide with curiosity as you helped her with her coloring book. Her question caught you off guard, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck.

"I think your brother is a really great person," you said carefully, hoping to dodge the deeper implications of her question. You didn't want to make things awkward or too serious.

She giggled, a knowing look in her eyes that made you wonder just how much she picked up on. "He likes you too. He talks about you sometimes" Her words sent a jolt through you, a mix of excitement and hope that you struggled to keep under control.

Your heart skipped a beat at her words.

Unbeknownst to you, Mike had returned home earlier than expected. He needed to grab some pills he'd forgotten and thought he'd quickly check in on how things were going. As he stepped inside, he heard the sound of Abby's laughter echoing through the house, drawing him toward the living room.

Peeking inside, Mike found you and Abby sprawled on the floor, surrounded by crayons and papers.

Abby was in the middle of telling a story, using her drawings as illustrations, her eyes alight with creativity. You listened intently, encouraging her with nods and comments, clearly engrossed in her imaginative tale.

For a moment, Mike simply stood there, watching the scene unfold before him. His heart swelled with warmth and admiration as he saw the joy on Abby's face, the ease with which you interacted with her. It was a sight he hadn't realized he longed to see, and it stirred something deep within him.

Seeing you there, so effortlessly connecting with Abby, made him fall even more in love with you. It wasn't just your kindness or the way you made Abby laugh, it was the way you seemed to understand her, to know exactly how to make her feel valued and cherished.

Mike cleared his throat, stepping into the room. "Looks like you two are having fun."

You looked up, surprised but pleased to see him. "Hey, Mike. We're just finishing up Abby's latest masterpiece."

Abby beamed at her brother, waving her drawing triumphantly. "Look what we made!”

He approached, crouching beside you to examine the masterpiece. "I love it.”

Abby beamed, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at her joy. "We make a good duo," you agreed, catching Mike's eye. There was something in his gaze, a warmth and appreciation that made your heart flutter.

"Thanks for today," Mike said, his voice low enough for only you to hear. "It means a lot to see her so happy"

"It was my pleasure," you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up under his scrutiny. "She's a wonderful kid."

As the days turned into weeks, your bond with both Abby and Mike deepened. You found yourself looking forward to each visit, eager to spend time with Abby and, more secretly, to see Mike. He was kind, patient, and had a dry sense of humor that often caught you off guard and made you laugh until your sides hurt.

Abby quickly became a friend, often sharing her thoughts and ideas with you. "Do you want to see my drawing?" she'd ask, holding up a colorful sketch that she'd made with all the innocence and creativity of a child.

"Wow, Abby, that's amazing!" you'd respond, genuinely impressed by her creativity. "You've got a real talent." Her pride in her work was infectious, and you felt a deep sense of fulfillment knowing you were making a positive impact in her life, fostering her confidence and creativity.

Meanwhile, your interactions with Mike grew more frequent and meaningful. Sometimes, after Abby had gone to bed, you and Mike would sit in the living room, sharing a beer or a cup of tea, discussing everything from music to movies to life's challenges. These moments became the highlight of your day, a chance to unwind and connect on a deeper level.

One evening, as you settled onto the couch after a long day, Mike handed you a steaming mug of tea, his fingers brushing yours briefly. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you wondered if he felt it too. Your heart skipped a beat at the possibility, and you felt a warmth spreading through your chest.

"You're really easy to talk to," Mike said, his voice sincere, cutting through the quiet hum of the room. "I don't get that a lot." His admission made your heart swell, knowing that you were someone he felt comfortable with, someone he valued.

"I feel the same way, Mike," you admitted, feeling a warmth in your chest that was becoming all too familiar. "It's nice having someone who gets me and doesn't think I'm weird for my horror movie obsession."

You wanted him to know that you felt a connection, a shared understanding that was rare and precious.

He chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I think it's cool. Most people just give me funny looks when I tell them I enjoy those films." His smile was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of camaraderie and mutual understanding.

"Then they're missing out," you said, a smile playing on your lips, enjoying the banter and the ease with which you could share these moments with him.

You found yourself opening up to Mike in ways you hadn't with anyone else, revealing dreams and fears that you usually kept hidden.

There was a trust between you, a sense of safety that encouraged honesty and vulnerability.

"I always wanted to be a writer," you confessed one night, surprised by your own admission. The words felt heavy and significant, a part of yourself that you hadn't shared with many people. "But I don't know if I'm good enough."

Mike looked at you thoughtfully, his gaze steady and encouraging, as if he could see the potential within you. "I think you'd be great. You have a way with words, and you see things differently. That's a gift." His words filled you with a warmth that lingered long after the evening had ended, a validation that resonated deeply with you.

You often caught yourself daydreaming about him, replaying conversations and imagining what it might be like to tell him how you really felt.

The movie you've found online and that you were currently watching, an old, obscure horror film, played on his TV. The film was terrible, with laughable special effects and wooden acting, but it provided ample opportunity for humor.

You tried to focus on the movie, but you found yourself constantly distracted by Mike. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the sound of his chuckle, and the way he seemed genuinely relaxed in your presence made you feel special and welcomed.

"There's something about these films that just never gets old," Mike said, his eyes still glued to the screen as a particularly ridiculous scene unfolded. "I mean, look at that monster. It looks like it was made from papier-mâché. Did they really think that scene would be scary?" Mike chuckled, shaking his head. His laughter was contagious, a sound that filled the room with warmth and lightened the weight of the day.

"Right?" you replied, though your focus was more on him than the film. You watched the way his smile lingered, the subtle way his body leaned toward you as if drawn by an invisible force.

You were lost in thought, contemplating the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks. Watching him enjoy himself, knowing that you were part of the reason he could unwind, filled you with a sense of pride and affection that was hard to ignore.

"There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice steady but your heart racing. The words were heavy on your tongue, but you knew it was time to speak your truth.

His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He sensed the seriousness of your tone and straightened, giving you his full attention.

"What's on your mind?" His voice was calm and steady, a reassurance that made the confession feel a little less daunting.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage and pushing past the fear of rejection. "I really like spending time with you, Mike. And not just as a friend. I've felt this way for a while now." The admission hung in the air between you, a truth that couldn't be taken back.

For a moment, Mike looked at you with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard by your confession, His initial surprise was evident, and you could see the conflict playing out in his mind. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to struggle to find the right words.

His thoughts were a jumble of emotions and concerns. The age difference between you, Abby, and his financial struggles weighed heavily on him. He didn't want you to feel tied to him, not because he didn't feel anything for you, but because he knew he couldn't give you everything you deserved.

"... I didn't expect this," he finally said, his voice laced with uncertainty. "I care about you a lot, but... it's complicated. You're younger than me. I have a lot of responsibilities with Abby and work. There's a lot I can't give you, and I don't want you to feel stuck because of me. You deserve better" His words were hesitant, filled with an internal struggle that made your heart ache for him.

You understood his hesitation, could see the conflict in his eyes, but you also saw the way he looked at you, the warmth and affection that couldn't be hidden. It was enough to give you hope, to make you want to show him that you didn't care about the obstacles, only about him.

Gently, you moved closer to him, closing the space between you. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he seemed frozen, waiting to see what you would do next.

Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. "I just want to be here with you." Your voice was soft but firm, a quiet promise of your intentions.

Then, slowly, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. It was a gentle, tentative kiss, one that held all the feelings you hadn't been able to put into words. For a moment, Mike seemed surprised, his body tensing at the unexpectedness of it all. But then, he melted into the kiss, his hesitation giving way to something deeper.

His hand found your waist, his fingers tightening slightly as he pulled you closer, closing any remaining distance between you.

The kiss was slow and tender, a shared moment that spoke volumes about what words couldn't convey.

You felt him relax against you, his internal conflicts momentarily forgotten as you both gave in to the feelings you had been harboring for so long.

His other hand reached up to gently cradle your head, deepening the kiss as he finally allowed himself to accept what was between you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and heart racing, you looked into his eyes and saw the worry and doubt had been replaced by something softer and more hopeful.

"Well, that was unexpected," Mike said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was a gentle rumble, carrying a hint of wonder and disbelief.

"In a good way, I hope?" you replied, your own voice barely above a whisper.

"In a very good way," he assured you, his lips curving into a smile that sent a flutter of joy through you.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips as you stayed close, unwilling to let the moment end.

"Me too," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "l'm still scared about what this means, but I know I don't want to lose what we have."

You leaned in closer, feeling his breath mingle with yours, and captured his lips in another kiss. This one was softer, more lingering, a gentle exploration of the connection between you. It was a silent affirmation of the feelings you both shared, a testament to the bond that had grown between you over time.

You felt his hands slide up your back, pulling you even closer, while you wrapped your arms around his neck, reveling in the warmth and security of his embrace. The kiss deepened, and you lost yourself in the sensation of being so close to him, of sharing in this moment of intimacy and understanding.

A soft sound escaped your lips, a quiet sigh of contentment, and you felt him smile against your mouth. There was a playfulness to his touch now, a sense of joy that mirrored your own.

"Shh," he whispered teasingly, pulling back slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Mike's lips moved against yours with a growing urgency, his own quiet moans mingling with yours. He tried to keep quiet, pressing soft kisses against your lips to muffle your own sounds, though the effort only served to heighten the sensation, a delicious tension that wound tighter with each passing moment.

His efforts to remain quiet were punctuated by low, throaty grunts, each one a reminder of the passion that simmered between you.

The quiet of the room was punctuated by soft gasps and whispered names, a symphony of affection that crescendoed in perfect harmony.

With a gentle tug, he guided you onto his lap, his touch firm yet careful, as if handling something both precious and fragile. The movement was fluid, instinctive, a seamless continuation of the magnetic pull that had drawn you together on the porch. Your knees settled on either side of him, bringing you chest to chest, your faces inches apart. The heat of his body seeped through your clothes, a tangible reminder of the passion simmering just beneath the surface.

His hands found their place on your legs, fingers splayed to support and explore, tracing slow, deliberate paths along the fabric that covered your skin. It was as though he sought to memorize every contour, every curve, feeding the curiosity that had lingered in the recesses of his mind for years wondering how it would feel to finally hold you close.

You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss that was both tender and insistent, a mingling of breath and heartbeat that spoke of shared longing and mutual surrender. The world outside faded further into oblivion, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of exploration and affection.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring with a curiosity that had been held in check for too long. The sensation was intoxicating, a dance of intimacy that spoke of all the moments he had wondered, all the times he had imagined what it would be like to taste you.

Mike's quiet grunts of pleasure were a symphony to your ears. You could sense the tension in him, the effort it took to maintain control even as his own desires threatened to overwhelm him.

His fingers brushed over your back, tracing the line of your spine, before moving to explore the curve of your waist and the strength of your thighs.

You mirrored his exploration, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, feeling the tension and release of muscle beneath your touch. Your fingers traveled to his neck, threading through his hair, drawing him even closer as the kiss became more fervent. It was a symphony of sensation-a blending of warmth, breath, and the gentle hum of shared affection that enveloped you both.

It was as if time itself had slowed, allowing you to savor each second, each heartbeat, as you became one in a language unspoken yet deeply understood.

His hands were slowly gliding all over your hips and lower back now, and they eventually made their way down to rest on your ass.

He squeezed, causing you to grind down against him and you moaned. You started prepping with kisses on his face, his stumble scratching your lips occasionally. Mike groaned in response, his eyes fluttering shut for a minute. You began a slow rhythm of rocking your hips against him, his head falling back to rest on the back of the couch.

"Good boy," Mike murmured against your lips, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrated through you. It sent a shiver down your spine, your heart swelling in response to the intimacy of the moment.

Mike's hands, confident yet gentle, found their way beneath the hem of your shirt, a silent question hanging in the air as his fingers brushed against bare skin. You nodded, granting permission. The fabric lifted, sliding over your skin with a whisper, leaving you vulnerable and exposed, yet utterly safe in his embrace.

His touch was electrifying, a gentle exploration of the expanse of your chest, the warmth of his hands grounding and exhilarating all at once.

You leaned up and captured Mike’s lips again in a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth. His hips bucking up into yours as you quickened the movement of your hips against his.

He was trying to pull you even closer against his body to increase the friction between the two of you as much as possible.

He began peppering open-mouthed kisses all over your chest and collarbones. You sighed, and laced your fingers in his hair, relishing in the feeling of his lips all over you.

He began sucking on one of your nipples, moving one of his hands to play with your other, which earned him a suppressed moan from you and caused you to throw your head back. You tugged on his hair, and it only seemed to make him even more enthusiastic with his movements.

He suddenly stood up, moving his arms to hold onto you tightly as you gasped, but landed back onto the couch almost instantly. You were now laying on your back and still looking up at him as Mike reached to pull his gray shirt off.

He was so handsome.

He began undoing his belt and the button to his jeans, pushing them down his legs. He kicked the jeans off and kneeled down, placing a hand on your thigh and looking at you.

“Can I?” he asked. You didn’t waste a second nodding your head, and you watched as he took his time to pull off your jeans and underwear, throwing them onto the floor beside his own discarded clothes.

Mike didn’t take his eyes off of you for a single second, wanting to admire the sight of you and he moved so that he was now on top of you. He now had you pinned down against the couch cushion, and you felt your own heartbeat inside your eardrums.

He leaned down to kiss you again, his enthusiasm from earlier returning as he deepened the kiss instantly.

He shifted slightly, reaching over to a small drawer built into the side table next to the couch. You watched curiously as he pulled out a small bottle of lube. The position was a bit awkward, and you couldn't help but give him a puzzled look, wondering why it was there instead of in his room.

Mike caught your expression and stuttered slightly, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "Uh, well, I keep it here because of Abby. She tends to rummage around my room looking for toys or paper to draw on."

You giggled at the thought, imagining Abby innocently sifting through Mike's things, completely unaware of what she might find. "That makes sense," you said with a smile, amused by his predicament.

He chuckled along with you, the tension in the air dissolving into something more playful and intimate. With a deft motion, he flicked open the cap of the bottle and poured a small amount onto his fingers, his movements careful and deliberate.

You watched, fascinated, as he spread the substance between his fingers, his focus returning to you with a renewed intensity. There was something thrilling about the trust and care in his actions, a silent promise that you were in good hands.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly, his gaze steady and reassuring.

You nodded, feeling your heart race with anticipation and excitement. "Absolutely" you replied, meeting his eyes with unwavering confidence.

His hand slowly trailed from its place at your side, down your hip before moving it to the space between your thighs. You gasped slightly when you felt his touch on your dick, causing fireworks to set off all throughout your body.

You moaned into his mouth now that Mike was touching you exactly where you needed him and he picked up the pace, pumping you as you began to let out soft moans at his touch. He flicks his finger over your tip, which was now leaking profusely.

Your hand returned itself to tangle in his hair while your other made its way to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He questioned, and you could’ve swore he was smirking against your lips.

You whined and nodded slightly. You had very little control over your reactions at this point, and Mike was well aware of this. He quickened his pace once again, and you were beginning to squirm underneath him.

It seemed like he was having a lot of fun at this point, amused by all of the reactions he was dragging out of you. You weren’t sure how this could get any better when he had maneuvered his hand lower, beginning to thrust his middle finger deep into your hole.

Another loud moan, muffled by your own hand, escaped your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut at the sensation, clenching your thighs together around his hand.

He pulled his head away and began biting your jaw, sucking hard enough that it will definitely leave a mark tomorrow, but you were too focused on his finger moving inside of you to care.

Mike then added his ring finger and you whined loudly, tugging on his hair. He let out a groan, and began fucking you faster, causing you to come into his hand, and onto your stomach.

Your back arching off of the couch and your fingers digging into his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

He was only focused on you, and he would do anything to indulge you at the moment. He pulled his fingers out of you after riding out your climax and shifted above you a bit. Your entire body flooded with warmth and you were panting.

Your recovery was cut short by Mike grinding into you, the length of his cock rubbing against you.

A soft, involuntary groan escaped his lips, signaling his turn.

He pulled back to look at you and his expression was questioning, waiting for an answer before going further with anything.

You whimpered out a small please and that was all it took before he was slowly sinking his cock inside of you.

He threw his head back and groaned, his cock twitching inside of you. You whined at the feeling and bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He slowly bottomed out inside of you and kept still, Pausing to admire you, lost in your serene, blissed-out state, like a masterpiece in a moment of pure tranquility before he began thrusting into you.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?” He groaned out, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear.

Your eyes shot open when you heard him, whimpering and quickly nodding your head, you were unable to speak, all you that was coming out of your mouth were the most pathetic whines, whimpers, and pants. Hearing him talk like this made you clench around him, which in turn caused him to slam into you faster.

“All mine, every bit of you,” he declared, his words sending shivers down your spine. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, trying to stifle any more sounds that might escape

You wrapped your legs around his hips, your body bouncing each time he thrusted into you, each time even harder than the last.

You and Mike were drenched in sweat, looking like you just conquered an epic adventure.

Your back was continuously arched off of the couch as he kept railing into you.

Your entire body was tingling with pleasure, and you knew you could get addicted to this feeling.

Mike slamming into you at just the right angle, the feeling of his body moving against yours, and before you knew it, Mike had reached his hand down between your bodies to begin stroking faster and faster, and each time a new sound came from your mouth, devoured from his own mouth.

You were officially done for after that. It was all too much, but it was so, so good.

“Please cum for me, my sweet boy. C’mon.” Mike gritted out, and that was all you had needed to hear.

You clenched around Mike’s cock and you came, your eyes rolling on the back of your head. All you could do while riding out your orgasam was squirm from the overstimulation, Mike still pounding into you as he was chasing his own orgasm.

Feeling the tightness of your body, he couldn't hold back any longer, his own release spurting deep within you.

Mike, who had been resting on top of you, shifted to lie beside you, the couch barely wide enough to accommodate both of you. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, a mirror to your own breaths as you both began to calm in the quiet aftermath

Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, the reality of what had just transpired between you and Mike barely beginning to settle in. It felt surreal, like a dream spun from the depths of your imagination, and yet the solid warmth of Mike beside you was a comforting reminder that it had indeed happened.

As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, you felt a gentle nudge against your cheek. Mike was nuzzling you, his stubble a rough but comforting texture against your skin. The affectionate gesture pulled you back to the present, grounding you in the moment and dispelling any lingering disbelief.

He turned his head slightly, capturing your lips in a quick, tender kiss that spoke of both contentment and lingering desire. When he pulled back, a hint of shyness flickered in his eyes, an endearing contrast to the confidence he had shown just moments before.

"Hey," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper in the quiet room. "Do you want to sleep in the bed with me? The couch isn't exactly comfortable for the night."

His invitation caught you off guard, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lingering heat from earlier. A smile broke across your face, broad and genuine, as you nodded, the simple gesture carrying a weight of unspoken emotion.

"I'd like that," you replied, your voice infused with a joy that you couldn't hide even if you wanted to.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

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freak-accident419 · 3 months ago

Text

playing cards

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: As Derek gets drunk, he spots a rather attractive person he feels desperate to spend the night with. Consequently, you were tasked with helping him sober up so he wouldn't be so foolish when approaching her.

Word Count: 4.4k

Content: gender-neutral reader, angst, Mickey angst, fluff, drinking, throwing up (brief mention of the texture), Derek's mommy issues continues, reader and Derek get closer

Ao3 Link

"Huh?" You nearly scoff at Derek's abrupt proposal.

"It's five o'clock somewhere," he reasons, beginning to sit up on the bed with an eager smirk.

"Uh, yeah, actually, it is," you huff, looking down at your wristwatch, "it's literally five here."

"Okay, great, even better," he says, immediately getting up from the mattress, "let's go."

"Wait, hold on," you interject, stopping in front of him. "There's no way you're getting blackout drunk at a time where you're supposed to be keeping up a good reputation! And, what, especially in front of those investors, who, conveniently, are also on this boat! Derek, you're going to blow your own cover!"

Derek gave your words the smallest amount of thought until he shook his head dismissively. "That's why... You can keep an eye on me."

What the hell.

"Seriously? You drinking your ass off is one thing, but leaving me out of it? That is so unfair!" You exclaim angrily. "This was your plan, and the only person being tortured in this deal so far is me! I always get the short end of the stick! Jesus Christ, Derek, have some, what, consideration? I'm bending over backwards for this bullshit, and you don't have any decency to advocate for me!"

Derek was always frustrating. Hell, you never really knew how you were still friends with him because somehow, you two just made it work. He was a shameless product of nepotism; he went from eating baby carrots to caviar off of the same silver platter ever since he was born. He was arrogant, selfish, inconsiderate, and an overall pain in the ass. He would boss everyone around him, regardless of age or role, unless, of course, they were his mother.

But he was barely his mother's son. As respectable and graceful as Jessica Danforth was, he was the complete opposite. Unlike her, he couldn't last a meeting without rudely interrupting somebody, so who's to say he could lead an entire nation? Derek was difficult, and that was that. It was like walking on eggshells trying to deal or negotiate with him, even if it was the most mundane, simple thing. Yet you were still best friends with him, yet you agreed to this overcomplicated deal to help him. Really, it was tricky to pinpoint why exactly you still dealt with his bullshit. Hell, the only thing you could seem to truthfully admit was that he wasn't so much of a bad person.

Sure, he had his whole phishing scam business. That wasn't excusable. But Derek always had his ways of showing his care for others, even if a few are unethical. He wasn't 100% malicious, nor a sociopath. The point is, even after all this, he cares about you and the people he loves. It's not an amazing quality, as it should be an inherent trait in a human being. But for Derek, it's a start.

Still, you were pissed as hell.

"Fine, fine!" He huffs, taking in your words. He should've felt bad for you, he should've felt guilty, but when it came to situations like that, he couldn't exactly read the severity or the implications of his own actions. "You can drink with me."

You sigh as Derek was still not understanding it, mostly because he had always been very dense. "No, I don't w—"

"Then what the fuck do you want?" He interjects, eyebrows furrowing. "You want to drink, you don't want to drink—"

"I want you to be responsible," you say harshly, watching his lips form quickly into a frown. "The whole reason, the whole fucking reason why we're here, why I'm here, in the first place, is because you wanted to prove to your mom that you're 'good now' and that you deserve every penny she gives you. And if you can't even follow your own plan, then this is all pointless. It's bullshit."

Finally, Derek consciously absorbs your reasoning. He was still stubborn about it, but he, for once, wasn't going to be a big asshole while knowing he was in the wrong. He hated how you were always right, and he especially hated whenever it felt impossible to argue with your logic.

"I won't drink too hard," he says in defeat, his volume lowering, "you can drink with me, no babysitting. We're on vacation, we can play it off that way. No hard drinking, no hard drugs in front of anyone, and I won't seem like that guy who took a belly shot off a stripper from weeks ago. Does that sound good?"

You didn't exactly want to scold him either. You weren't his parent, but he could be so childish at times that it's impossible to treat him like an adult. So now, with him making that compromise to accommodate to your wishes, it felt so artificial; unsatisfying when he gave in. Because all you felt like at this moment was, well... his parent.

"I'm just advising you," you exhale, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I'm not your mother. I'm just... I'm just saying, it's probably not good to go crazy tonight if you don't want to get caught by Wallace or your mother. But you know what?... Do whatever you want. I'm kind of exhausted, so I'll probably just shower and hit the sack."

Derek pursed his lips, observing your current beaten state before shrugging slightly with a sigh. "Alright. Uhh, I'll be at one of the bars, probably meet up with the rest of the guys." You simply just nodded at his words. "And Y/n... You know you're always welcome to join us. I'll pay for your tab, it's whatever."

You nod again, watching him get ready to leave the room.

Of course, there's been a lot of tension that the two of you never got to release on each other. Just always brushing it off with humor and playing it off as "playful banter." It was frustrating, though; you having to deal with Derek's recklessness, him having to deal with your responsible rationality. You were each other's anchors, which was what made your friendship worked—or at least you thought.

The problem was having to be in this role where you had to pretend to be his romantic partner. You hated the lack of authenticity. Even knowing you had to fake it, even knowing it was fake, you hated how this was a lie. But you didn't know what made you feel worse; having the public think you were dating your best friend or the fact that this kind of relationship would always be impossible that it can only ever exist as a lie.

No, that's ridiculous. You didn't see him that way, of course, you would never date him. It was just insulting to you, that's all. Dating you shouldn't be so painful to lie about. Dating you shouldn't feel so condescending. You would be a great partner, you thought. And that was definitely your problem with this entire plan. Nothing else.

***

As Derek left the cabin, leaving you to take a shower, you decided to explore the ship afterwards, just for the time being. As your footsteps would gently meet the lavish planks of the deck, you spotted a familiar figure looking out at the ocean in a reflective fashion.

"Mickey?" You ask, standing beside him after realizing who it was.

"Oh. Hey, Y/n," he smiled weakly at you, looking back at the faint horizon line where the sky met the sea.

"How are you feeling?" You inquire, considering what happened in the past between him and Derek.

"I'm fine," he shrugs, shaking his head dismissively. "Seriously, it's not a big deal."

"I know," you remark, placing your hands on the railing as you stood on the edge of the ship with him, "but... I don't know, you've been so quiet. It's just... The friend group's never been the same ever since."

Mickey ponders at your words, feeling a wave of guilt, and then exhaustion. "It's not like I, um, like him anymore," he mutters, barely looking at you. "It's just, uh... I guess I'm just... offended? Like... Would it have been that embarrassing to be seen with me, y'know? I mean, I know I'm not perfect and, hell, invest too much in crypto, but... it's not like he's any better than me. But he constantly acts like it, which is fucking frustrating."

You frown as you listen to his perspective, sighing to yourself. You couldn't disagree, he was a hundred percent right. "Derek's a dick," you huff, "honestly, it's surprising how all of us, at one point, are able to stand it. But... You know him. He's afraid of intimacy. Real intimacy. He's too afraid of getting too close to someone, too afraid of disappointing anyone. He thinks it's better to leave first so that he doesn't get hurt."

"So then I should get hurt?" Mickey scoffs, looking at you now.

"No, it's just... I'm not excusing his actions. What he did was completely idiotic. All I'm saying is... he's a moron. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Derek's just... not exactly the standard for dating or the arbiter of who's a good partner, so... you're not as unworthy as he might've made you feel."

He pursed his lips, face contorting in contemplation. "It's just... I feel so used. I know, I knew it was a fling and there was nothing else to it, but... One of the things he told me was that we couldn't... be anything more because he didn't want to be seen dating a friend of his, or someone who doesn't come from a rich family, and..."

That was your exact concern.

"He's only doing this because his money's at risk. That's all," you reply softly, "there is no other motivation bigger than losing his money for him to fake date one of his friends, let alone me. It has nothing to do with you. I promise you that."

Mickey shrugs, disregarding your words. Not maliciously, just... unconsciously. Then you realized it was much more of an internal struggle. He needed direct closure from Derek himself. "I'm gonna go get a drink," he nods at you kindly before walking away, "thanks for this..."

As you watched him leave, you frowned to yourself, feeling the exhaustion of today's events finally catch up with you. Hell, you needed a drink too.

Motivated to search for one, you turned your body around, facing away from the view of the ocean. Suddenly, your eyes trailed to the empty lounge chairs on the deck with their corresponding tables. A box of Capri-Sun was just sitting there, unattended.

Huh. Change of plans.

***

The alcohol burned his throat as Derek took a swift, smooth swig, hearing the laughter and shouts of his friends around him. This was probably his fifth damn shot ever since the group occupied a colorful bar in the cruise ship. Soft music played in the background as they all sat in a cushioned booth.

"I can't believe Y/n isn't here," Rachel huffed in disappointment, looking around the space as if you would pop out of thin air.

"Yeah, well they're a fuckin' lame-o," Derek slurs, swishing his empty shot glass around, "why are they so serious? They've never been so uptight before. It's so annoying."

"Maybe because you put them in a position where they have to be your partner?" Trevor raises an eyebrow, sneering playfully. "No offense, dude, but I feel like anyone would feel humiliated if they had to date you. Again, no offense."

Derek shot him a menacing glare while everyone else laughed at him.

"I stand by that," Connor cackles, elbowing his friend, "being romantically involved with the country's nepo-brat himself? Says a lot about your self-respect."

"Shut the fuck up." The said nepo-brat retorts as he feels his head throbbing. He wasn't actually upset, however, despite his enormous ego. Even as his friends weren't so far from the truth, he could easily handle their targeted jokes. Unlike a large sum of people, they surprisingly didn't befriend him for his money. After all, they had several things in common: being rich, being educated, and being grade-A assholes.

"Hey, Danforth," Trevor pipes, shoving him obnoxiously, "hot chick, three o'clock."

Derek looks in the direction he was told, only to see a tall, gorgeous woman around his age, sitting on a barstool while mingling with her friends. Of course he was never new to her level of beauty, as he's hooked up with all types of people in the past. So no, her looks weren't the reason why he felt so desperate now. Truthfully, it's been a long time since he's gotten some. Ever since this whole fake dating arrangement, Derek had never gotten the time or chance to get into bed with someone enticing, or just anyone at all. He was always a fan of pleasure, a big fan of one-night stands. And right now, he was craving one.

"Fuck," he groans, strongly motivated to push through the drunken migraine he was experiencing. "I gotta... go talk to her..."

"No, dude," Trevor huffs in amusement, trying not to burst out into laughter, "you're way too drunk, you'll scare her away."

Derek frowns, unappreciative of his friend's deliberation. "I swear to fuckin' god, Trev, if I don't bang at least one goddamn person on this boat—"

"Relax," he chuckles, massaging Derek's left shoulder, "I'm just saying, you should sober up first. Not too sober, obviously, but you need to be well aware enough to make smart choices. Like, I know you'd fuck up the whole you and Y/n thing and someone's gonna find out." Derek nods as he listens to half of the things he heard, eyelids growing heavy. "Go back to your room, Y/n can sober you up, and when you're ready, you can come back and screw this girl."

Derek's thoughts were hazy and ran slowly in his brain like traffic. He couldn't focus on any of the steps instructed to him, nor did he feel inclined to comply.

"Hey, you know something?" Rachel chimes in, "there's this one thing you always do whenever you're way too drunk to function. It's almost, like, a signal for when you should stop drinking for the night."

"Oh, yeah!" The rest of the group exclaimed in a discordant manner, all laughing at the inside joke Derek wasn't yet aware of.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows curiously. "What do you mean, what do I do?"

"Basically," Connor chuckles, "we always know you're far too gone whenever you propose doing a flip. You say that every fucking time you're too drunk. Not when you're buzzed, not when you're tipsy, but every single time you're absolutely hammered. I swear, every time you're, like, 'watch me do a flip' or some stupid shit like that."

"No way," Derek grumbles in refusal, not recalling any memory of him saying those things, "I don't do that." To be fair, however, he wouldn't even remember anything from the times he was too drunk. Therefore, he couldn't even be a credible source for his own experiences.

"Uh, yeah, you do! Every time!" Rachel cackles with a wide grin. "One time, we didn't stop you because you wanted to do a skateboard trick, and you absolutely ate cement, man. We even got that on video!"

Derek groans in embarrassment, feeling his migraine grow. "Whatever. One more drink," he grumbles before a knowing smirk appears on his lips. Everyone around him scowled, watching him down more liquor, even if he was far too deep in intoxication.

"Hold on, one more," he giggles shamelessly, as he quickly finished the previous drink.

***

"Derek?" You huff in surprise as you hear the door swing open, seeing your friend stumble back into the suite.

"H—" before he could even say one word, he rushed to the bathroom to throw up in the toilet. As he fell on his knees, his hands gripped the poor, porcelain seat of the toilet. You followed him immediately, placing your hand on his back in deep concern.

"What the hell?" You gasp, "dude, how much did you drink?"

Derek coughed out the last bits of vomit, staring straight at the toilet bowl and the floating chunks that left his stomach, furrowing his eyebrows. "Where does flushed shit go on a boat?" He mumbles distractedly, failing to answer you. "Does this go straight into the ocean? That's so messed up..."

You roll your eyes anyway, having been accustomed to his drunken mannerisms. This actually wasn't the first time you dealt with him like this, which probably made you harsher than anyone would've been in this scenario. "Why would you care about what's messed up or not? You literally run one of the most immoral businesses in the world."

"Yeah, well, doesn't look like you're doing anything to stop me," he scoffs bitterly, looking up at you in the eyes, "having said that, you're just as bad as me."

You hated whenever he brought this up to refute you. How you never bothered turning him in, never bothered telling anybody. But was that not your moral obligation as his best friend? Were you supposed to get him caught or keep his criminal life private? Why did you seem to prioritize him over the thousands of vulnerable people in this world?

"I'm fucking with you," he smirks humorously, while you knew damn well he wasn't kidding. "I need to... sober up. There's this... chick at the bar I wanna hook up with and I can't risk anything, so... just need to be more conscious or whatever bullshit Trevor said. Can you help me?"

Immediately, you disapproved of it. "That's a terrible idea," you retort. "If anyone finds out about this, you'd be deemed a cheater. I don't care who you sleep with, but the purpose of this trip—"

"I'll make sure she keeps it a secret. Pay her, even," he says, his squinted eyes pathetically trying to meet yours, "Come on. Help me."

Why did you even bother?

"Fine," you sigh, standing up from your knees to flush the toilet.

The two of you sat quietly on the edge of the bed as you handed Derek some water. He gulped a substantial amount after muttering a thank you.

"You know you can't truly 'sober up' that fast, right?" You scoff. "You'd have better luck sleeping it off."

"But I have her right where I want her. It's a filthy one-night stand, not a perfect meet cute," he grumbles before taking a second glance at you. A foil juice pouch was in your hands as you ripped off the attached straw. "What is that? Holy shit, is that a Capri-Sun?"

You nod, poking the pouch's hole with the thin yellow straw. "Yeah."

"Where did you get it?" He asked with a sudden deep interest.

"I just... found some lying on a table on the decks, it probably belonged to some kid," you shrug casually.

"You stole it?" He huffs in shock, not expecting you, of all people, to do such a thing.

"Derek, think about the kinds of people who can afford this cruise, okay? Upper class families. I'm sure whoever it is, they'd be okay with a few missing Capri-Suns," you scoff. "I can promise you this, dude, it's not as bad as stealing money from old people." Clearly, you couldn't help but constantly bring it up. You had always felt bitter about it the moment he told you of it.

Derek pouts before groaning, sinking down towards you to lay his head on your lap. You were only slightly taken aback, as this was a common habit of a drunk Derek. But it was always surprising to you nonetheless, since you never really knew when he was going to do that. "It's not like... I'm evil, you know?" He mumbles bashfully.

You raise an eyebrow at his quiet words, letting him continue.

"Of course it's fucking unconventional and immoral and whatever. But the thing is... I'll never make the amount of money my dad did when he was still alive. And you're telling me I have to follow in his footsteps? That's ridiculous, for me, at least," he huffs. "Especially for me, actually."

You didn't know what compelled you to do so, but your hand landed on his head, feeling his soft curls between your fingers until you could feel his scalp. You were nearly petting him. And you hated it because ultimately, it confirmed your sympathy for him. You genuinely almost felt sorry for him. So what else were you supposed to do anyways?

Derek felt his heart tighten at your touch. It was all too familiar. Too much like his mother's. But he didn't want to think about it like that, not when it was you. "Everyone used to expect so much of me, even before Dad died. Until they learned that all I could do is disappoint. Now everyone expects the very least of me, which, fair enough.

"Danforth Enterprises has been slow, especially ever since I took the position. And I'm supposed... I owe something to my mother. I owe everything to her. And if all that money could... get her to be president, get her to think I'm a successful CEO, then... that's just... That's why I do it. I just... was far too gone. I'm in too deep now."

Derek felt a sting every time you stroked his head. It was horrible, it was as if he was back in his mother's grasp, when everything was much simpler, when he wasn't seen as such a failure. When a damn drawing of the private helicopter in crayon was the best thing he ever did in her eyes. When did he become such a disappointment now?

"It's shitty," you sigh, your own voice grounding him. It was you. This was your hands, your touch, not his mother's. The same voice that belonged to the smile that greeted him in his freshman year at MIT. You. "That doesn't excuse it, and I'm sure you know that. But... You're being too hard on yourself, Derek. I'm sure your mom would've appreciated it if you genuinely worked hard and show that you earned that position. The extra flashy money obviously never worked."

He hated being scolded. Being told what to do. But somehow, your words were a comfort to him instead. Maybe he was this vulnerable because he was intoxicated, but that was rarely ever the case.

The one thing he knew right now, though, was that it was your hands, your fingers, your touch, your voice that embraced. Not his mother's. And for that reason, he loved it.

"Can I have some of your Capri-Sun?" He asks coyly.

"You shouldn't have any sugary drinks when you just threw up," you advise.

"You're just gatekeeping it," he grumbles, shutting his eyes.

A soft chuckle leaves your lips as you continue to scratch his scalp. Derek felt his heart rush at the sound.

"You have a nice laugh," he mutters.

You paused your hand movements on his head, stunned by his words. "What?"

"I like your laugh," he confesses quietly, opening his eyes and fidgeting with his fingers. "It's nice." Then, he nudged your body with his head as a plea to resume your touches.

You continued playing with his hair curiously. He's never acted like this around you. Ever. What changed?

"Th—"

"And I mean it," he adds, closing his eyes once again in contentment, "you're great. I'm sorry for getting you caught up in all of this. It was never fair to you."

You sigh softly at Derek's admission, feeling the curly strands of hair beneath your fingertips. "Thank you," you mutter appreciatively.

"I know I said I'd make it up to you with Fiji and money, but... that's probably not enough. Maybe I'll be a 'yes-man' for a week. I dunno. Something like that," he reckons.

You felt so warm right now. You weren't sure what it was. Either a metaphorical would-be-disaster of a feeling or the fact that Derek's head was resting on your lap, giving off heat. And while you could admit that you enjoyed the feeling, you realized you might've distracted him from his initial goal.

"Come on, buddy," you sigh, trying to prop him back up, removing his head from your lap, "I think by the time you walk back to the bar, you'd be all ready for her."

"Oh, right. Oh yeah," Derek huffs as he also remembers the whole point of coming back to the room so early, "yeah. She's, uh, she's so not ready for this." He chuckles weakly, gesturing towards himself.

You pat his shoulder in a friendly manner, establishing the extent of your relationship. Friendship, rather. "Give 'em hell," you smile softly, helping him get up before he walked by himself towards the door.

Once the door closed behind him, Derek stood in the hallway, feeling unsure of himself. He felt lost, and it wasn't just because of the alcohol. He began to retrace his steps, vaguely remembering the face of the woman at the bar. Yes, she was pretty, but... for some reason, he just didn't want to go through with it. Which was insanity, because Derek never passed the chance to screw an attractive person. It all just felt so different, all of a sudden. Like there was a consequence and that it mattered. Like it just wasn't right to do.

He wanted to go back into the room with you.

He didn't care about the woman at the bar.

He really didn't want to admit it, really, but all he wanted was to be held by you once more. Just for a little longer.

And there was only one excuse that could help him get away with it.

Your eyes shot up as you hear the door burst open once again, seeing Derek stumble more messily than before.

"Hey, wait. Before I go... watch me do a flip!" He smiles widely, purposefully slurring his words.

In your perspective, Derek definitely wasn't sobered up enough to meet with that girl he was talking about. Surely, the flip nonsense would signify he was way too drunk to function. It was something he's always done that you and your friends noticed. Finally, you concluded that he could barely sober up in time before the night ended, having to stay with him like this, which was exactly what he wanted you to think.

Rolling your eyes with a slight grin, you scoff. "Come here," you groan, watching him come back to you. You handed him a Capri-Sun, finally, as you two sipped the juice in contented silence. And soon enough, his head was back in your lap as your hands were back in his hair.

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sameschmidtdiffname · 1 year ago

Note

Can I get a Derek Danforth x shorter Male Reader where reader is like the only person Derek cares about. Reader is very cuddly but Derek isn’t big on PDA but when they are alone Derek loves holding the reader in his arms.

If not it’s ok!

OFC YOU CAN!!!

I had like fifteen different drafts for how this story could go and I couldn't make up my mind until literally last night, thus why it took so long. I hope this is okay!!!

Tangled

Derek Danforth x Male! Reader

Summery: The holidays are a miserable time of year, especially when ones mother won't even talk to them to let them know she's not coming, sending Derek into a breakdown and wrapping you up in the process.

Tags: No use of Y/N, short! Reader, hurt/comfort, mommy issues, drug use (marijuana), arguing, breakdown, banter, comedy, injury, eventual fluff, holiday fic. (I don't give a fuck that it's Febuary, shut it.)

Notes: honestly I was HYPED when I saw this request. I fucken GOT YOU babe and I am so sorry it took this long. I hope this was worth the wait <3

•°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest; who likes the holidays?

The decorations are nice. The food's better. But in the matter of family and visitation, could anyone honestly say they liked the whole routine? Picking who to see, booking flights, trying not to lose yourself in a bottle of liquor that you bought on the way to their house.

Maybe not every detail is the same, but you get the general idea.

"Please sit down," I begged Derek, watching him pace the floor. All week Derek had been in a mood, which isn't totally uncommon I will admit. But usually he could be coaxed out of it, sweet words whispered in his ear finally bringing him off whatever edge he was ready to fling off of and convince him death was for another day. This week however was different, Derek always tapping his foot, glaring at something. And pacing. Neverending, always thinking, lasts through the night pacing. I was beginning to feel sick from the anxiety, and my mood was making Derek even shorter in his.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"You're clearly not," I said. In his hand he gripped his pen, clicking it to life with five rapid clicks before taking a long pull like he couldn't breathe without it. "Derek."

"I said I'm fucking fine."

"I have never seen you as more of a mess, will you please just sit down for one moment?" I pleaded, shifting closer to the edge of the plush loveseat kept in front of our bed. "I'm worried about you."

He wants to snap. His jaw is tight, teeth gritted as he spins on the heel of his black, pointed boot, mouth opening as he begins to point one finger at me. But the minute he actually makes eye contact the edge drains, his shoulders sagging slightly as he exhales his smoke, bags appearing under his eyes. Derek had a reputation for being a hard-ass, but when we were alone and I grabbed his attention, his demeanor would shift into one more gentle, more honest. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he finally crossed over to me, sitting beside me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, tucking my head under his chin. His hand strokes up and down my back, his heart still pounding but beginning to calm as the smoke begins to work into his bloodstream, allowing him to focus on me more than his thoughts. His cologne compliments mine, smelling mostly of cinnamon to match the winter season. The silk material of his red shirt is soothing against my skin, little silver snowflakes decorating it. Always a pattern with him.

"Is it your mother?" I asked quietly. He stiffened, his heart rate picking back up against my ear.

"I don't want to talk about this," he said quickly, beginning to pull away. I gently grab his arms, making him look down at me before he can close off once more.

"We've been together for almost a year and you won't say anything about your-"

"I said I don't want to talk about this."

"We have to talk about this at some point or you're going to have a giant fit and I won't be able to help you."

It isn't meant as an insult, but I hear it as soon as the words come out. Derek's eyes narrow into slits, bitterness seeping through.

"Fuck you. I don't throw fucking fits." He pulled away quickly, the battery of his pen glowing as he took another hit, long and deep, blinking rapidly to show he's hit his limit.

"You are on the cusp of one right now. You're in denial," I said concerningly.

This time he really is about to snap when someone knocks on the door, popping her head in to announce dinner will be ready shortly.

"Is she on her way?" Derek asked the redheaded assistant, blowing his smoke out through his nose, hands on his cocked hips. The woman presses her lips together tightly, glancing between the two of us before speaking.

"I haven't heard anything from President Danforth for a few hours, sir," she finally said. Derek sighed deeply, looking down and pinching the bridge of his straight nose as he taps his foot at impressive speed.

"Thank you," he said quickly, not meeting anyone's eyes. She takes the opportunity, quickly nodding at me and ducking out of the room with the quick click of the door, leaving us alone again.

I simply stare at him, hands folded on top of my lap as I wait for him to say something, do something. When he goes to take a third blinker, I finally stand.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," Derek warns me, holding out his palm.

"You are going to get stoned to the point that you'll fuck up this dinner the you have been worried over for the past week. What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hiss, stepping closer.

"There's no fuckin' point, she's not coming," he said, shrugging harshly and scoffing.

"And that bothers you. Will you just admit that?" I said. I step closer, close enough to reach for the pen, but I wait, letting him narrow his glazing eyes at me first.

"What is your obsession? You want me to break down? Cry? You wanna fix me, huh?" His tone is harsh, paranoia settling in as he takes a step towards me. "Whatever savior shit this is, I'm not taking."

I snatch the pen quickly from his grasp, only to have his hand grab my wrist without any real thought. Derek towers over me, gripping me tightly enough it hurts.

"Drop it," he growled.

"No," I growled back.

"I'm not asking."

"Tough shit."

"What is your-"

"Derek." The snap does something, my voice bouncing around in his ears as he glares at me, but releases my wrist nonetheless. I step away quickly, tucking the pen into the inside pocket of my evergreen blazer. "You'll get this back tonight," I tell him, not looking back. Derek mutters under his breath, brushing past me to exit the suite. Fine. Let him hate me. See if I care.

Derek never liked public affection in the first place. Growing up in a house with a politician for a mother he was hyperaware of all the right and wrongs to a public reputation. I think he also just had no desire to be seen as any kind of vulnerable in a crowd. But tonight it's different. Tonight there is a tinge of hate with the distance he creates, and my side feels cold without him. With each step forward he takes five back. People filter in and out of each room, some I'm sure just here with a friend of a friend for the free food. But if there's anyone I never see through the passing hours, it's Derek's mother. I can see him checking his phone every five, three, then every other minute.

It was a touchy subject. Derek loved his mother, adored the ground she walked on. And when she would visit him or welcome us over to wherever it was she was staying it was obvious she loved him too, allowing him to get away with things most mothers wouldn't. But her head was always in work, her eyes always scanning a document with a pen in her hand to sign off on anything at any given moment. There were times we'd spend the visit gathered in silence lest she retreat to an actual study, claiming she could not focus with our chatter. Derek loved his mother, but it was obvious he was neglected by her too.

He'd been planning the party meticulously. Ordering dozens of sample just for garland, asking my input on plates. Yes, Derek was known for throwing elaborate and wonderfully tasteful parties, but if he thought his mother would be in attendance he would go the extra mile, not sparing an inch of detail and making sure that it was so perfect she'd have no choice but to attend.

Problem is, Madame President has many choices for her perfect Christmas party.

It isn't until the clock strikes ten and security begins to push people out that he finally locks eyes with me, the hate draining and giving way to the exhaustion underneath. He disappears through a doorway, and I follow after him, watching his snow white suit that matches my shirt perfectly work its way quickly through the endless halls as I chase him down the rabbit hole. Oh yes, don't think I escaped his scrutiny just because I'm a living being. I didn't even know we'd have complimenting outfits until I stepped out of the shower that morning while he worked on a cigarette, waving it around between his fingers on one hand with the hangers in the other and a phone pressed between his shoulder as he shouted something in Spanish at the poor assistant on the other line.

He doesn't bother shutting the bedroom door behind him whether he knows I'm following him or not. But when I gently push the door shut behind me, finally turning away from him, I feel his warm body press against mine from behind. His arms wrap around me, one around my waist and the other around my shoulders, alcohol thick on his breath as he buries his head into the crook of my neck. His hand finds my hair, burying his long fingers in it as he takes a deep inhale of the pine scented cologne dabbled on my neck. His body is heavy against mine, swaying slightly from exhaustion.

"Hi," he says softly.

"Hi," I say just as soft, reaching up to find his curls. I smile slightly at the feeling of his fried ends, tainted from overprocessing. "You wanna talk?"

"No," he maintained. But his voice cracks, and the collar my shirt is starting to feel wet. Not to mention his arms are shaking.

"You wanna not talk on the bed?" I ask him.

"I'm fine right here," he says in a broken voice. But when he softly sniffles and takes a tiny gasp for air, he's finally done in and dragging me towards the oversized bed, not bothering to actually open the canopy as he flops himself down onto the lush, green and gold duvet.

"It's fine, I'm fine," he insists even though he's dragged half of a gold chiffon curtain down and around him and he's too high to figure out how to get it off. "She has meetings, this happens."

"Yeah, well. It happens a little too often," I say gently, trying to help him before he gets this thing wrapped around his neck. In his vulnerable and understandable fit he's making this curtain situation much worse, actively reweaving whatever I untangle from him in his blind confusion.

"I mean, I get it. Running the country, having a conversation with your own son, it's fine," Derek hiccuped as he gestures his hands like scales weighing the options, one drastically higher than the other. His face is as red as his shirt, large tears streaming down his face as he paws uselessly at the fabric. He swipes frantically at them, clearly becoming frustrated at being unable to control his raw emotions. "I mean, priorities shift so what the fuck am I complaining about?"

"Honey, I think you're sitting on it."

"What?"

"The curtain."

Derek moans inconsolably as he throws himself against the bed, taking down the rest of the gold chiffon and covering us both in the material.

"What does it matter?" Derek cries pathetically. "I could hang myself with this and she'd have a fucking meeting in Germany!"

"Your mother would come to your funeral," I say softly, stroking his hair as I press my lips together, letting him heave out his sobs. He brings a bundle of the fabric to his face, bunching it up and sobbing into it before raising his head once more for another comment.

"Probably have a flood in Uganda day of. I'd fuck up my own suicide day," he snaps to no one in particular.

"No you wouldn't," I say, continuing to run my hand through his hair. Derek sinks into the golden bundle once more, curling in on himself like a child. Then suddenly his eyes grow cold again.

"And the fucking appetizers were cold!"

The comment is so out of left field that a short laugh escapes me, my hand immediately covering my mouth. I instantly feel awful, looking away as I try to compose myself from the dramatic change in complaint.

"Don't laugh at me," Derek snaps. "I paid good money for those."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, that was just a bit random. Would you like to get off of the curtains you also paid for?" I ask him softly, fighting the fit of giggles his hateful eyes inspire to continue. I try to wrap my arms around him in comfort but he moves away in irritation. Or tries. This curtain is keeping us pretty close, which only adds to the whole thing.

"No," he says as he finally gives up. He crosses his arms in irritation and huffs, but after a long moment and a glance at my bemused face he moves to get the curtain off of his own. "Yes. Get this off of me!"

"Okay, I'm coming."

"Where the fuck is the end?"

"I told you, I think you're sitting on it."

"Your mother is sitting on it!"

"Let's not bring anymore mothers into this-"

We struggle in the cocoon of chiffon, twisting and turning in the same and opposite directions, both of us bickering over who has what and who's preventing our freedom.

"This shouldn't be fucking hard!"

"Quit moving, you're making it worse."

"Fuck you!"

"Hang on, I think I-"

With a forceful tug I pull the end out from underneath of Derek. Unfortunately, Derek had shifted himself to move off of the end at the same time, leaving me to fling off the side of the tall bed and hit the lush rug underneath that hardly cushions the oak floor with a loud 'thud' that makes the artifical blond gasp.

"Fuck! Are you okay-?"

Derek scrambles to the edge to look down at me, but he's too high to realize he's overshot his position and sends his larger body crashing on top of mine, making me cry out as I break his fall.

"Eat a salad," I groan, curling in on myself as I try to catch my breath.

"I did, that's why I'm the tall one." Derek and I are once again tangled in the curtain, laying on the floor in a pile of limbs and half of Derek's face is burned from the rug. "Are you okay?" He asks worriedly, looking over my body for obvious injury.

"Have roses at my funeral," I cough, clutching my stomach.

"Rose's are cliché."

"Rose's are fucking iconic."

"If you have basic taste, then yes."

"I don't mix snake and cheeta."

"It's French."

"Then get fucking cheeta print rose's."

"Don't be hysterical."

I shoot him a look and finally he manages a laugh, wiping at his nose with the cuff of his blazer and smiling.

"Maybe I'm a little hysterical," he offers.

"I think I have a concussion."

"Oh, you don't have a concussion," Derek says dismissively. He cups my cheeks gently, his soft hands forcing my eyelids open wide as he checks my eyes. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, you have a concussion."

I laugh, pulling him close and keeping my eyes closed to keep from getting sick.

"Mister 'I Don't Throw Fits,'" I tease.

"I can just not take you to the hospital."

"Bitch."

"Cunt."

"Dickhead."

"Fuckface."

"Fashionably handicapped."

"Poor."

Derek finally figures out how to free us from our prison, pulling away the fabric and looking down at me from above with a gentle smile on his tear stained face. "You've got good bone structure, though," he says.

"It's my daddy's," I tell him.

"I don't remember buying you that."

I smack Derek's chest playfully, groaning as I try (and fail) to sit up. "You're awful."

"You love me," Derek says softly, sitting beside me. The statement is true and meant as a playful reminder, but it's the way his bloodshot eyes still glisten with leftover moisture that makes me cup his face. Or try. I can't see.

"I love you," I say softly.

"That's my chest."

My hand moves.

"Knee."

My hand moves again.

"That's my dick."

"Jolly good friend," I say with a squeeze and overexaggerated British accent. This knocks the last bit of sorrow out of Derek, making him laugh loudly as he finally lays down beside me. He wraps his arms around my smaller frame, pulling me close to him as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

"I'm sorry,' he says softly.

"We really do need to talk about your mother at some point," I tell him, stroking his arm that lays across my chest.

"I know." Derek's voice is soft, his fingers playing with one of the buttons on my blazer.

The silence is sweet, the sound of Derek and I's breathing the only sound in the room. And the slight ringing in my head.

"I think you need to call someone," I tell him.

"My problems aren't that bad," Derek says in a hurt voice, moving to look down at me.

"For me."

"Oh!"

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

I'm going to be so fr, I haven't watched 'The Beekeeper' since it was in theaters so if the mommy issues are inaccurate that's on me. But y'know what it works better for his character so it's °~*accurate to meee*~°

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson the beekeeper #the beekeeper #the beekeeper fanfic #derek danforth beekeeper #derek danforth x you #derek danforth #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x reader #derek the beekeeper #derek danforth imagine #derek danforth x male reader #derek danforth fanfiction #jhutch #josh hutcherson fluff

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futturmanspookie · 1 year ago

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Paparazzi

Summary – You're a paparazzi who Derek fought with, and now he owes you something Pairing – Derek Danforth X Male!Reader Tags – +18 Smut, MLM, Oneshot, Penetration, Unprotected sex, No genitalia specified, Doggy style, Missionary, Dirty talk, pet names (Babe, honey and darling)

You were one of the greatest paparazzis of the whole country. Always with the best angles, and always finding A LOT about famous people's life.

But it obviously had it's downsides, like now.

You were sitting on a chair on Boston's general police department, besides with Derek Danforth; son of the newly elected president of United States of America.

What happened for you two to end in this situation? Basically, you were taking some pictures of him as he walked out of a club and you both had a fight.

He punched you and you retorted, you only defended yourself tho, so you could easily file a complaint about him.

The fact is; punching you would give him a really bad reputation, what wouldn't be any good for his mother's campaign on next elections.

He couldn't risk you suing him and the media discovering he started fights with innocent paparazzis.

So he would do what he always did with everyone he assaulted, damaged or bruised. He would bribe you.

"What do you want to not fill a complaint, huh?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the chair. "Money? Fame? Success? I can give you whatever you want."

Money didn't interested you, and you also didn't wanted to end like the people you photographed... But there was certainly one thing you wanted.

"I want a interview." You said, smirking and crossing your legs, turning your head to look at Derek.

"What?" Derek asked, a confused frown appearing on the Danforth's face. "I just said i could give you whatever you wanted, and you want a interview?" He asked, clearly not understanding what you mean.

"Yeah, but you have to be sincere, and let me ask whatever i want to." You answered, smirking and crossing your arms.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking down as if he was thinking about that. It would probably just end up in a random gossip page, and it's not like he had something to hide.

"Alright." He answered shrugging.

You smiled at that, your smile seeing just as devious as your ideas were. Of course you wouldn't throw a chance like that away.

"When and where you want to do this "interview"?" Derek asked, leaning back against his chair and looking back at you.

"Now, at my hotel room." You said confidently, looking at Derek straight in the eyes.

"Seriously?" He asked groaning in annoyance.

"Yeah." You answered, smiling and shrugging.

You get up and looks around, tilting your head towards the exit and shoving your hands on your pockets.

Derek got up and followed you, taking in your looks. He never thought he would met such a good looking paparazzi. In his head, people with this kind of job were all ugly.

You lead Derek to your hotel, it was one of those fancy 6 stars hotels. Derek was happy he wouldn't need to go to a cheap place, he hated cheap places.

As soon as you two got into the elevator, Derek looked at you, up and down.

"How old are you?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the elevator's mirror.

"Twenty-four." You answered, smirking.

"Hm." He mumbled, looking away. Okay, so you were old enough for him.

The elevator rings signaling you arrived your floor. You both walk out of the elevator and you lead him towards your room.

237

Derek would remember that number, certainly would.

When you two enter, it looked just like you left this morning; messy sheets, your laptop and an notebook on the coffee table, your bag open in the corner of the room.

You leave your camera case on the floor and walk towards one of the armchairs, sitting on it and grabbing your notebook from the coffee table.

"Feel free to sit down." You said, smirking at Derek.

Derek furrows his brows, but smirks a bit too. He walks towards the other armchair and sits on it, he looks around taking his surroundings.

"So..?" He asked as his gaze moved back to yours, he tried to sound impatient, but he clearly was in no hurry.

You didn't had any questions to ask. You wasn't an interviewer and certainly wouldn't expect having the chance to interview someone like Derek. You desperately needed to think on something.

"You, hm... Like what you do?" You asked, looking down at the notebook and then up at Derek.

"You mean, being the CEO of my family's business?" He asked, leaning back against the armchair.

"Yeah..." You answered, biting your lip and hitting your feet against the floor anxiously.

"Yeah... I think." He answered, shrugging and taking a deep breath.

You sigh and write it down, your look shifting between the paper and Derek, he seemed totally uninterested. You needed something better than usual questions.

"Have you, ever thought of dating a fan?" You asked, trying to make more interesting questions.

It drew Derek's attention, making him look down at you and smirk a bit.

"No, maybe one hookup... But not dating." He said, chuckling a bit.

You took a deep breath, thinking twice about your next question as wrote Derek's last answer down on the paper.

"Have you ever fantasized about other guys?" You asked, gulping dryly and staring at Derek.

His eyes widen and his brows furrow.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking away and then back at you.

"Fucking other guy, you know." You said shrugging, your grip on the pencil getting tighter.

He stayed quiet for some seconds and then looked down at your notebook.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked, smirking a bit and sitting up straight.

"Huh... Is just a question, you know, it interests the public." You answered, stumbling in your own words as your gaze wandered to the ground.

Derek's smile turned into a grin and he got up, walking closer and holding your chin, making you look up at him.

"I don't think the public is the one interested on it." He hissed, leaning in a bit in a way you could feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin.

Your gaze didn't left his as you got up. His hand moved to the side of your face, his thumb softly rubbing against your cheek.

"You know, you're not that bad for a motherfucker that photographs people without their consent." He whispered moving in and kissing your lips.

You quickly kissed him back, moving your hands up to the back of Derek's head and letting his tongue enter your mouth.

Derek's free hand quickly move down your butt without much ceremony, he's quite touchy.

He lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his torso, and now he could carry you to the bed

Derek dropped you on the big, fancy bed. Leaning over you and kissing your neck, starting to unbutton your shirt with one of his hands.

His left arm was wrapped around you as he shoved his hand under your shirt, touching your chest briefly and gripping on your neck.

"Fuck, you're hot." He mumbled against your skin, he enjoyed the soft gasps you let scape.

"What the fuck are we doing?" You ask, groaning a bit. You couldn't tell if it was a pleasure or annoyance groan.

"We are having fun, babe-" He whispered, licking and biting on your neck. You tilted your head back, sighing softly.

His hand quickly sneaked to your belt, undoing it as his wet kisses moved down to your collarbone.

You didn't knew why you were doing it, but you wasn't against having sex with Derek, either. So you just decided to let i happen.

His hands slip into your pants, and he slowly starts masturbating you, making you moan and squirm.

You move your hands to Derek's shirt, unbuttoning it and struggling to slip it down his arms.

He helps you, taking it off and throwing it on the corner of the room before getting back to masturbate you.

"You're so sensitive~" He whispered against your ear, biting your earlobe and pulling his hand away.

You groan in frustration, wanting to feel Derek's touch again. He chuckled and starts pulling your pants off.

You lift your hips for him, making it easier for your pants and underwear to slip off. Derek takes some seconds admiring you before pulling away.

"Get on all fours for me." He said, smirking and looking at you up and down. He liked how you looked like a mess already, your unbuttoned shirt slipping down your shoulders.

You obey him eagerly, what you never thought on doing. You wasn't the obedient type, submissive... But damn, it was Derek Danforth... That man could boss you as much as he wanted too.

Derek smiled and moved his hands from your thighs to your buttcheeks. He held them, squeezing and feeling the soft flesh.

"You have such a pretty ass, baby." He said as moved his hands down your thighs again and leaning in to kiss your rear.

You blushed, your hands tugging on the sheets as your cheek was pressed against the mattress.

You watched him positioning behind you and opening his belt. He bent over you, whispering on your ear.

"All i thought since we got out that police department was how i was going to fuck you when we got here." He whispered, kissing your earlobe and pulling his dick out of his pants.

You could feel his throbbing length against your entrance. Fuck, you never felt so eager in your whole life.

He spit in his hand and slathered it all over his cock. He slid his dick between your buttcheeks a few times, groaning lowly.

"You like that?" He asked, tugging on your hair as the other hand held on your ass. You nodded quickly, moaning a bit. You nodded eagerly, your hair falling over your face.

He then pulled away a bit and teased the head of his cock against your tight hole, spitting on it again.

Your breath hitched, feeling him pulling into you slowly.

"Fuck~" You moaned as gripped tighter on the sheets and buried your face further on the mattress.

"No- No... Look at me babe." He said, tugging your hair and making you look up at him. "I want to see you falling apart, honey..." He whispered, leaning in and kissing your lips softly.

Once he was full inside of you, making you pant and moan lowly, he started moving. His thrusts were already fast, making your moans get eventually louder.

It hurts a bit, but the faint pain is subsided by the overwhelming pleasure of feeling him inside of you.

"Damn, you're so fucking hot-" He growled as pumped into you like it was his last day of life. "I want to cum all over this tight, perfect little ass of yours-" He whispered, bitting on your neck and then pulling away, straightening his posture.

You kept moaning and whined softly when Derek pulled at your hair. "So good-" You groan lowly, Derek's other hand finding support on your lower back.

The sticky and wet slapping filled the room, together with the hitting of the bed against the wall and the moans from both of you.

He then turned you around, making you lie on your back as kept his cock inside of you. You looked beautiful; teary eyes, messy hair, rosy cheeks. Derek felt like he could keep fucking you for two weeks straight.

He leaned in kissing on your chest and sucking on your nipples, his thrusts turning steady and deeper.

"God- So tight~" He groaned, moving his kisses up your neck.

You clenched around him a bit, making him go crazy. He thrusted deeper and bit on your earlobe.

"Fuck, baby- Don't do this... I may cum too early-" He whispered on your ear, biting your earlobe again.

He slowly pulled away and got on his knees, holding your inner thighs and thrusting faster and deeper inside of him.

You moaned and squirmed underneath him, your hands running up his abdomen looking for more physical contact.

"Tell me what do you want, tell me, darling... Come on." He said, panting and growling lowly.

"I- I want you to keep fucking me like this, Derek-" You whimpered, your hands clenching and scratching him a bit.

"Oh... I know you want it babe~" He whispered, thrusting even deeper and gripping tighter on your thighs.

You moan louder, feeling his dick reaching a really sensitive point. He bents over you again, one of his hands sneaking up to stroke you.

"Cum for me, babe... Come on-" He whispered, kissing you softly. You moaned against his lips, arching your back as he touched you.

Soon you came, with a loud and high pitched moan. He kept pumping into you after your orgasm, what felt like heaven.

After a few seconds he came too, letting out a guttural moan and falling over you.

"You're incredible..." He whispered, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips softly.

He pulled out of you and looked down at your hole, dripping with his cum.

"Damn... Look who's now my little cumslut." He said, chuckling and pulling his thumb inside of you, making you shiver.

"Don't do it!" You said, blushing.

"What?" He asked, chuckling and pulling his thumb away.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, and then Derek slowly crawled over you.

"I'm going to take a bath, wanna join me, Mr. Paparazzi?" He asked, his breath hot against your face.

#derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #male!reader #jhutch #josh hutcherson #smut #fanfic #mlm #jhutch1992

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deniable-masterpiece · 22 days ago

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why does no one talk about josh hutcherson as derek danforth, it’s such a hot role

#i think rich boys with fat asses are just so hot #just watched the beekeeper #x reader #x male reader #josh hutcherson #jhutch #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x male reader #derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x male reader

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stop-talking · 1 year ago

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Cure for writers block??!

If you're like me and can only write under the crushing psychological pressure of an impending deadline, the game "frantic fanfic" might be helpful.

Maybe not as a way to write all your fanfics, but It's a good warm-up. I spit out these two rough-drafts in 15 minutes (each).

This was my first time writing for a male reader, so be nice I beg 🙏 (also it is not proof-red.)

Mike x Male reader & Derek Danforth x Male reader smut below the cut (18+)

I might turn one or both of these into actual full-length fanfics if y'all like them... so let me know. A male reader fanfic is LONG overdue, sorry babes <3

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #derek danforth #mike schmidt #jhutch1992 #josh hutcherson x reader #the beekeeper #fnaf movie #derek danforth x reader #josh hutcherson x you #mike schmidt x male reader #derek danforth x male reader #x male reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n

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joshfutturman · 1 year ago

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like, if yes, it would be him thinking of reader and maybe a phone call at the end but it wouldn't be big if that makes sense? let me know what you guys think!

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r04dk1llx2 · 1 year ago

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hello gamers, posted on r34 on the derek danforth tag (twice now, im going insane), go eat up !!

#there is something wrong with me #josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #josh hutcherson fanart #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson smut #derek danforth #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x male reader #derek danforth x gn!reader

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litteralyjustawriter · 1 year ago

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Masterlist :p

TV shows:

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

Criminal minds:

Spencer Reid:

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

Stranger Things:

Eddie Munson:

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012):

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Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles:

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</Scorpion>:

Walter O'Brien:

Sylvester Dodd:

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Movies:

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The Beekeeper:

Derek Danforth:

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Mutant Mayhem:

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

#masterlist #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg x reader #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #headcanon #stranger things #x gn reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #mutant mayhem tmnt #tmnt headcanons #scorpion tv show #walter O'Brien scorpion #Sylvester dodd scorpion

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lefteagleblizzard · 6 months ago

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𝔈𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: A request that I received from a friend of mine. “Abby's first time going to a sleepover and Mike is stressed, you try to distract him which inturn evolves into him basically using you to forget about his anxiety.”

Tags: Part 12 of this series of Mike Schmidt x male reader but can be read as a standalone as usual. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is a perfect older brother. Sometimes too much. Lots of teasing and intimacy. Smut. Fluffy smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex. Riding.

Words count: 3000

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

The clock on the wall ticked past 11 P.M., but Mike's restlessness filled the room like a storm cloud. He sat slouched on the couch, one leg bouncing furiously while his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His gaze flicked back and forth between the phone on the wall and the door, almost willing it to vibrate or swing open. Abby was out for her first sleepover and the unknowns of her new friends, their parents, their house, were eating him alive.

You knew how he got when his nerves took over, which was exactly why you were in his lap, determined to pull him out of his spiral of worries.

"You're gonna give yourself a heart attack," you muttered, your lips brushing against the stubble of his jaw as you peppered him with kisses, each one loud and insistent. His skin was warm under your touch, his body taut like a coiled spring.

He let out a low groan, somewhere between irritation and something far more carnal.

"It's not funny," he said gruffly, though his hands had drifted to your thighs, gripping them through the fabric of your pants as if grounding himself. "You don't get it. She—“

"She's fine," you interrupted, your voice soft but firm. You nipped at his jawline, smiling when he flinched and tightened his grip on you. "She's probably drawing some creepy animatronic with her new besties right now, not plotting her escape to Vegas."

"That's not—"

"When's the last time we had the house to ourselves?" you cut him off again, your lips finding the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Your tone turned teasing as you let your hips roll ever so slightly against his lap, feeling the hardness that was starting to press against you despite his sour mood. "I mean, no Abby, no interruptions…"

Mike's hands flexed on your thighs, his jaw clenching tight enough that you could see the muscle jump beneath his stubble. "You're unbelievable," he muttered, his voice rough, though the way his hands slid higher up your legs betrayed his growing interest.

"And you're stressed," you countered, leaning back to meet his eyes. "Seriously, Mike, she's fine. You need to chill."

His brow furrowed, his lips parting as if to argue, but you silenced him with a kiss all teeth and tongue, a deliberate effort to pull him out of his head and into the moment. He groaned against your mouth, his frustration tangling with desire as his hands found your hips, holding you in place even as you continued to grind against him.

"You're the worst," he grumbled, though his voice was muffled against your lips.

"I know," you whispered back, your breath hot against his skin as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, sliding your hands beneath the fabric to trace the lean muscles of his stomach.

He didn't stop you. Instead, he pulled you closer, his hands slipping under the waistband of your pants to grab your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

You ground down harder, feeling the full extent of his arousal pressing against you.

Mike cursed under his breath, his resolve cracking as he shifted beneath you, his hands deftly tugging your pants down your hips. The cool air against your skin made you shiver, but his touch was warm, almost searing, as his fingers slid between your legs.

"Shit," he muttered, his voice low and rough as he dipped his head to kiss along your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "You're so—"

"Yeah," you cut him off, your voice breathy as you fumbled with his belt, your fingers trembling slightly as you worked to free him.

The moment his cock was in your hand, heavy and hot and already leaking, he let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the couch as his hips jerked involuntarily.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you stroked him, your movements slow and deliberate. "You're so fucking eager."

"Can you blame me?" you teased, your voice laced with heat as you leaned in to kiss him again, swallowing the guttural sounds he made as your hand worked him with a steady rhythm.

The first press of his finger was slow, the stretch intoxicating. His fingers moving faster, lips capturing yours again as he prepped you thoroughly, slicking you up and preparing you for what’s next to come.

When you were finally ready, your skin slick with sweat and your body trembling with anticipation, he guided you into position, his cock pressing against your entrance as you braced yourself against his shoulders.

"Take your time," he murmured, his voice softer now, though there was a tension in his tone that betrayed how badly he wanted you.

You nodded, biting your lip as you began to sink down onto him, the stretch both overwhelming and addictive. He groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he watched you.

His head tipped back against the couch as you slowly sank down onto him, and for a brief moment, he couldn't breathe. The heat, the tightness, the sheer, overwhelming sensation of you wrapping around him had him teetering on the edge already, his fingers biting into your hips as he forced himself to stay still, to let you adjust.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His chest heaved with shallow breaths as he closed his eyes, every nerve in his body alight. He felt you trembling against him, the way your body pulsed and clenched around him, like it was trying to pull him even deeper. His hands smoothed over your thighs, gripping tightly, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a soothing rhythm to keep himself grounded.

But then his eyes opened, and when he looked at you and saw the flushed heat on your face, the way your lips were parted as you panted, the slight furrow in your brow as you worked to take all of him with that unfiltered want mixed with the faintest hint of pain as you adjusted was enough to drive him out of his mind.

He tilted his head forward, resting his forehead against yours. "You okay?" he murmured, his voice softer now, a quiet rasp that didn't match the burning desire coiling low in his belly.

You nodded, biting your lip as you wiggled slightly, sending a shudder through both of you. "Just…big," you muttered, your voice shaky, your breath warm against his face.

He chuckled softly, though the sound came out more like a groan. "Take your time." He said, his tone laced with something teasing, though his chest tightened at how fragile you sounded.

His gaze flicked past you for a moment, catching on a piece of paper half-finished made by Abby, the bright colors smudged slightly where she'd pressed the crayons too hard. The sight sparked a sudden, stupid thought, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out.

"Do you think her friend's mom has enough papers for her?"

You froze, your forehead still pressed to his as you blinked at him, your expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.

"Mike," you said, your tone incredulous but low, strained from the stretch of him inside you. "Are you serious—" You trailed off, biting back a laugh as you rested your head against his cheek, his stubble scratching against your skin. "Can we maybe not talk about your little sister while I’ve got your dick in my ass?"

It took a second for your words to register, but when they did, his eyes widened, and he groaned, his head falling to your shoulder. "Shit. Sorry. Fuck, I—"

"It's fine," you interrupted, snickering softly as you nuzzled into him. "Just…focus, yeah?"

"Yeah. Focus," he muttered, more to himself than to you. He tilted his head, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I'm an idiot."

You were about to say something but he cut you off with a sudden upward thrust, his cock burying itself completely inside you. You gasped sharply, your words dissolving into a hiss as you clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

"Is this what you wanted?" he murmured, his voice hit your ears like a low hum, rough and frayed at the edges, his lips brushing just beneath your ear as he spoke, the huskiness of his tone vibrating straight through you.

It wasn't the overconfident dominance of someone trying to prove a point. His words carried the weight of his exhaustion, the kind of bone-deep weariness that clung to him. That rasp in his voice, that almost lazy confidence was enough to leave you breathless.

You swallowed hard, unable to stop yourself from clenching tightly around him in response, which drew a low, throaty groan from him that only made the moment more intense.

You started to move then, rocking your hips against him, finding a rhythm that made both of you moan. His hands dropped back to your waist, guiding your movements, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrust upward to meet you.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he watched you. His hand slipped between your bodies, wrapping around your cock, stroking you in time with his thrusts.

Mike's grip on your hips was almost punishing, his fingers digging into your skin as you rode him, the couch creaking beneath the weight of your movements. His head was tipped back, lips parted, breaths ragged as his dark eyes stayed fixed on you.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse and strained as if speaking took all the energy he could spare.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, his body taut and flushed, his length throbbing inside of you as you clenched tightly around him.

His hands tightened their hold on you, pulling you down harder onto him as his hips snapped upward to meet yours, the wet slap of your bodies filling the room. You could feel how close he was, the way his rhythm was faltering, his movements growing more frantic as he chased his release alongside you.

And then the phone rang.

The sharp, jarring sound cut through the haze of pleasure like a slap to the face, breaking the intimate barrier you'd both built so painstakingly. Mike froze beneath you, his gaze snapping toward the phone on the wall.

You let out a frustrated whine, your hips still grinding against him in a desperate attempt to regain his attention.

He didn't respond, the sound of the ringing filled the room, relentless and intrusive and you felt his body tense beneath you, his grip on your hips loosening slightly.

"Mike," your voice insistent as you leaned forward, your hands framing his face. You forced him to look at you, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, "Stay with me."

The plea seemed to snap him out of his daze, eyes refocusing on you as his hands tightened on your hips again. "Shit—sorry," he muttered, his voice low and rough, but before he could fully immerse himself back in you, the ringing stopped.

For a moment, there was silence, then, the voice of Abby's friend's mother crackled through the answering machine, her tone calm and measured as she left a message.

You couldn't make out her words—didn't want to, frankly—but Mike stilled again, his gaze flicking toward the machine as his jaw tightened. He made a muffled sound against your lips, a low groan that was equal parts annoyance and worry, and you could feel him pulling away mentally even as his body remained pressed against yours.

Your hands clutched his shoulders as you moved against him again, desperate to keep him with you. The friction was almost too much, the intensity of your own need clawing at you, and when he groaned again, this time louder, deeper, you thought you'd won.

But then he was pulling back, his movements abrupt and clumsy as he shifted you off him. "I'll be right back," he muttered, his voice laced with apology as he grunted softly, pulling out of you.

The sudden emptiness was unpleasant, your body protesting the loss as you stared at him, wide-eyed and breathless. "Are you serious?" you managed to whisper, your voice raw and incredulous.

He winced, his hand braced against the couch as he stood, his other hand adjusting himself awkwardly. "I just need to make sure everything's okay," he said, his tone almost pleading as he glanced toward the phone.

You shifted on the couch, wincing at the dull ache in your lower half from how deep Mike had been before the damn phone decided to ruin everything. With a sigh, you brought your knees up to your chest, your arms crossing defensively over them as you watched him pace to the phone on the wall.

His posture was stiff. Partially from the erection he was still sporting and partly from the mix of irritation and worry etched into his expression. You caught the faint tremor in his voice as he answered the call. "Yeah? This is Mike."

You leaned back against the couch with a huff, your head falling against the cushions as you glared up at the ceiling.

The conversation blurred into a series of muffled words as you tuned him out, your frustration and wounded pride making it hard to care.

When he finally hung up and turned back to you, his expression softened. His lips curved into a small, sheepish smile as he walked back over to the couch. "So, uh," he started, his voice low and tentative. "Abby's fine. She passed out with a crayon still in her hand together with her friend."

You hummed in acknowledgment, refusing to meet his gaze. Your arms remained crossed over your chest, your eyes fixed stubbornly on the ceiling.

"I think that woman caught up on what I was doing." He groaned in defeat as his voice dropped into that awkward, self-conscious tone you loved while he ran a hand through his hair.

You finally turned your head to look at him fully, raising an eyebrow.

"I sounded like I'd just run a marathon," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face as if he could erase the memory. "She was definitely trying not to snicker." He trailed off, his eyes flicking to you briefly before looking away again.

You kept your gaze stubbornly fixed on the ceiling, your arms still crossed as Mike kissed your shoulder, the stubble of his jaw scraping softly against your skin while one of his hands rested on your knees. "Hey," he murmured, tilting his head to catch your gaze. "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad? No," you replied, your tone clipped as you shifted your legs to make it harder for him to hold them. "I'm just thinking about how I'm going to sleep on the bed tonight. Alone."

He blinked at you, his lips parting slightly in disbelief before he let out a soft laugh. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that."

"Like what?" you shot back, your voice unintentionally sharp as you finally met his gaze. "Like someone who was left high and dry because you had to go full 'big brother mode' right in the middle of—“

"Okay, okay," he cut in, holding his hands up in mock surrender. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he chuckled, the sound warm and rough. "I get it. I suck."

"You said it," you muttered, your arms tightening around your chest.

Mike let out an exaggerated groan, leaning forward to press his forehead against your knees. "You're killing me here," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk with this?" He gestured vaguely at his still prominent erection.

You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips despite your best efforts. "I noticed," you quipped. "Pretty hard to miss when you're waddling around like a penguin."

He laughed, the sound genuine and unguarded, and the tension in the room eased slightly. His hands slid up your thighs, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your skin as he looked up at you with those dark, tired eyes that always made your heart skip a beat. "Let me make it up to you," he murmured.

You pretended to consider it, tilting your head as if weighing your options. "I don't know," you said, your tone light but teasing. "I'm pretty comfortable here, actually. Might just call it a night."

Mike's lips twitched into a grin, and he leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. "Come on," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't do me like this. I'll be good. Promise."

You hummed, your arms still crossed as you feigned indifference, though the heat pooling in your stomach betrayed you. "You're gonna have to try harder than that," you muttered, your voice trembling slightly as his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

"I plan to," he replied, his voice thick with promise as he leaned in to kiss you, slow and deep.

Mike's thumb brushed over your thigh as his other hand wrapped around your still throbbing erection, his fingers stroking the length with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch. His hand was warm, his grip firm as he tugged, squeezing you just enough to make you groan softly despite your earlier resolve to play stubborn.

Your resolve cracked under the weight of his touch and you finally uncrossed your arms, threading your fingers through his hair as you pulled him closer. "You're lucky you're cute," you muttered against his lips, your voice breathless.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling against your chest as he pressed you back against the couch, his hands gripping your waist as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss while slowly easing you down onto the couch. His fingers curled around your thigh, pulling your leg up and wrapping it around his waist as he settled between your legs. The weight of him was grounding, his toned stomach pressing against your aching length, the happy trail there tickling you while his own erection nudged insistently at your entrance.

His hand drifted down, positioning himself with careful precision, and the heat of him pressing against you made your breath catch.

"Mike—" you started, your voice breaking on a gasp as he pushed forward, his cock breaching you with a slow, deliberate stretch that had your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He groaned low in his throat, his forehead dropping to yours as he slid deeper.

Your head fell back against the couch, your lips parted as you sucked in shallow breaths, your body trembling beneath him. "Move," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

Mike didn't need to be told twice. He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in another searing kiss as he began to move, his hips rolling with a steady, unrelenting rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. His cock filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was almost overwhelming, and the friction with each thrust had you gasping against his mouth.

"Fuck—" you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his with every desperate breath.

He groaned in response, his movements growing more frantic as he buried himself deeper, each thrust harder and more insistent than the last.

The weight of his body, the heat of his skin, the relentless rhythm of his hips was too much, and yet not enough. You clung to him, your nails scraping down his back as you arched into him, your own arousal trapped between your bodies and smearing against his stomach with every thrust.

Mike's hand slipped between you, his fingers wrapping around your cock once more as he stroked you in time with his movements. The combination was devastating, the pleasure building so intensely it left you gasping, your body trembling beneath him as you teetered on the edge.

"Close," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling as your walls clenched around him, pulling him even deeper.

"Me too," he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours as his pace faltered, his hips stuttering as he chased his release.

Your body tensed, your release spilling between you as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him.

Mike wasn't far behind. The way you tightened around him and the look of pure ecstasy on your face drove him to his peak. He thrust into you one last time, his body going rigid as he came, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he filled you completely.

Mike collapsed against you, his weight comforting as he pressed lazy kisses to your neck, his lips warm and soft against your flushed skin.

"Still mad at me?" he murmured, his voice teasing but tired, the exhaustion finally catching up to him.

You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing through his hair as you shook your head. "Not anymore," you admitted, your voice warm with affection.

"Good," he muttered, his lips curling into a small smile against your neck. "Because I don't think I could survive round three."

You laughed, your chest heaving with the effort, and pulled him closer, your bodies tangling together as the heat between you slowly gave way to a comfortable, drowsy warmth.

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freak-accident419 · 3 months ago

Text

"playing cards" Masterlist

A Derek Danforth x GN!Reader Mini-series

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.

Content: fake dating trope, gender-neutral reader, use of Y/n, comedy/attempt at humor, friends to lovers, (Derek's) mommy issues, drinking, angst, fluff, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

More chapters coming soon!

Please support the version on AO3 as well! You don't need an account to leave kudos <3 Each chapter has a unique title as well :) -> Playing Cards on AO3

Hello friends! To those who are new, welcome! To everyone who has been keeping up with the series, I've finally created a masterlist so that it's easier to access each chapter in one spot :)

Thank you guys so much for your endless support <3 I am so excited to continue this series with you all!

<3 Special thanks to Skye, Two, Hayley, and Moni for inspiring and supporting me always.

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sameschmidtdiffname · 2 years ago

Text

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

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

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billys-slutcherson · 1 year ago

Text

'I'd Rather Stay Here' 18+ MDNI

Derek Danforth x F!Reader

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Oneshot:

Insatiable for you, Derek convinces you to ditch the party. Eager to have his way dominating you, away from prying eyes. Desperately, you wouldn't dream of passing up the chance…

Tags:

Dom/Sub, Light Dom/Sub, Dom/Sub Play, Grinding, Dry Humping, Wet & Messy, Naked Female X Clothed Male, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Neck Kissing, Choking, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Doggy Style, Creampie, Overstimulation

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Derek's palm slinked against the satin of your evening dress as he pushed you into his exquisite bedroom. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening, flirting mercilessly. Not caring who was within earshot.

Shameless in how he spoke, how he bordered on vulgar. Yet, it worked.

Every. Time.

Derek was not your type. Not in the slightest. Cold in attitude, unexpectedly callous and fuck, a cocky little shit at times.

Yet, you still came crawling back for more. Like a sickness. An inexplainable fervour.

It was unhealthy, an infatuation.

With your mind already filtering to perverse fascinations, his hand shifted to yours, fingers intertwining. Tugging you roughly into the room, he slammed the door shut, using your body, as your back pushed against it. Sinking his forehead into yours, as his eyes flicked over your low-cut dress. Then darting them back to meet your gaze. The way he licked at his lips was very indicative of his intentions.

You felt a familiar gratifying rush of lust simmer in the pit of your stomach. Silence hanging in the air. As you shared that intense look. Heavy breaths hang against your lips.

"God look at you...” He broke the silence, fixating on your body. His palm weaved against your hair, loosening the clip that pinned it in place. As it fell downward. Reaching his palm to brush the strands from your cheek. You swallowed harshly as he did. His touch felt like fire dotting across your flesh.

Fingertips looped under the thin straps of your dress, as his nails dragged against your collarbone. Dipping your eyes downward to watch his touches, as your heart raced. Skin prickled with goosebumps.

"Look at me..." He seized under your chin as he said it. Cringing as you felt your bottom lip flutter. Face all flustered, as the colour of your cheeks warmed.

"Fuck, you are already so needy, huh? Look at you, all pretty and pink...” He hummed melodically as he toyed with your ego.

“I want to break you..." He sneered.

"I bet your panties are already dripping...aren't they?" He ridiculed, pulling your face forward in his hand, he kissed you with a thirst you'd never quite experienced. Pinning your hips back against the door frame. Using his weight to hold you there.

"D-derek..." You barely manage to whimper. It was like he was choking you. Smothering you with his fierce kiss.

Pressing his lips deeper, he demanded attention.

Palms pawed at your waist as his fingertips burrowed into you, marking your skin beneath the dress. One hand firmly groped up your waist, as it slithered across your chest again. Smoothing over your right breast. Feeling your nipple perk upward under the silken fabric. He pinched it, as he rolled it between his thumb and index finger. Looking down at you as he dragged his tongue against your lips. Watching for your reaction.

Hyperventilating as you yearned for him. To feel him throw your body against the bed. To be used. He wore you down, you could feel yourself tremble against him.

"That's a good girl.." He taunted. As you turned a deeper shade of pink.

"D-don't... don't call me that." You hissed, as he raked his teeth against your neck almost a little too roughly, pleas escaped your mouth for him.

He scoffed lightly.

"Don't be such a little prude. I know what you are, how undeniably desperate you are. You fucking crave me." His words were like torture. However, the best kind.

You clenched your hands into fists against the arms of his suit jacket. Fingers tightened, threatening the stitching, as you steadied yourself. Feeling him roll his sleeves over his flexed forearms. Thinking of his hazy stare

Pulling his lips from yours slowly, as he broke the kiss. Hearing your frantic little breaths escape. Strings of spit pulled between your mouths. His hand grips under your chin once more, pushing your head back with a gentle thud against the door. Forcing you to look at the ceiling. As you let out those little whimpers he hoped for. Feeling as his hand wandered, stroking his hot palm at your exposed thigh in the slit of your dress.

"Hush, all those little noises and I am barely touching you... Tell me where you want my hand." He urges. You were all flustered and frustrated as you shook your head, his palm slid along your jaw, and he moved it to your neck. Fingers wrapping around it. Squeezing lightly.

"Go on, use your words for me." He taunted.

Stuttering as you try to speak, you whisper in a stifled squeak.

“Please...T-touch me, please... I need you Derek” Stammering as you watched him lick your spit from his mouth that curled into a devious smile. Wasting no time.

His palm curved over your delicate lace underwear. Fingers threatening as they arched upward. Stretching the thin material of them. Pushing the panties into your sloppy wet hole that begged. Begged to be caressed. Puckering your lips as he did. Trying to grip his tense forearm. For a moment feeling his veins peek and tighten against the muscle. Your fingers grazing against. However, his other hand stopped you promptly. Without a word. You knew better.

Your legs started to shake, as your balance waivered in the high heels. Heaving breaths escaped you, as he coaxed more noises from your despairing sweet body. Satiating his need. His hunger.

“That’s it..you're needy, aren't you baby girl? My little slut.” He groaned. Fingering the lace in and out of your pleading cunt. Watching your lips shake as you moaned into the air from him. Feeling the sweat build on your neck, he pressed his palm more forcefully against it. Fingers coiled around it tighter. But it only heightens your high-pitched cries. Tears threatened as you felt a flutter of shame. As he only further pinned you into the hardwood of the door.

A ringtone buzzed in his pocket. Though, without a shred of reluctance, he ignored it. Focused solely on you. As his fingers fought. Pushing your panties aside vigorously. Curling his middle finger in first, you banged your head back against the door. It creaked loudly against your shivering body. You heard as people passed by the room. The party continued without you both.

Derek was deliberate.

Knowing you’d be heard.

Finding it gratifying, how soft and broken you were for his caress. Taking his hand from your neck. Pushing it through your hair, tangling his fingers within. Showering wet breathy kisses along your jaw. Exhaling in short bursts of breath.

You let your eyes flick between your bodies. Peeking at how the suit pants jutted upwards. His crotch pressing into your other thigh. Rocking. Grinding at you. You couldn't help but smirk slightly through your fluster.

Derek's mouth sucked and marked your neck with deep pink love bites. They nipped and it only caused you to wriggle further. Biting against your shoulder for a second, sinking a second finger inside your pleading pussy. Then almost instantly a third finger nestled inside your folds. Drenching his palm in your pleading arousal, so much so your hips were shaking. Rocking against his palm. You pressed your head forward into the edge of his neck. On the edge of climax already.

“Don’t. Don't you dare." He growled.

"Listen to me.. hey.. look at me." Leaning closely to your ear. "Not yet..”. He was gripping your throat pushing your head back to look at him.

Your eyes shut as you couldn’t get your words out from the overpowering pleasure.

“Fucking look at me while I am talking..” Slipping his fingers out as he spanked at your drooling cunt. Making you whine as your clit ached under the firm slap. Feeling suddenly hollow. Your hair gripped in his palm as he yanked you slightly towards his bed.

Finally, you saw more of the room. Disorientated, your eyes scanned the over-the-top design. Obscenely extravagant. Much like him.

Teal lace and black bedsheets spread across the four-poster bed. Draped with sheer hangings surrounding the top beams. Woodwork carved and all. Art was framed over the walls as he took you and pushed you back into the bed. You eyed the swirling carvings across his ceiling, till your eyes diverted back to him. Eyes beckoning you, darkly.

He crawled slightly, against you. Reaching to grip the split fabric in your dress. The slit that exposed your leg was so captivating, tempting him. His fingers gripped either side of the split, tugging at it further. The noise of the fabric splitting, tearing against your skin. Until your body was exposed.

“See, much better..” He grinned. Sneering as the phone only continued to buzz.

“Open your fucking legs..” He demanded. And you obliged. It was torture. He wiped his thumb over his lip watching you. Cradling his hard-on through his pants as you did. Exposing your fingered pussy, dripping for him. Trickling against his sheets.

“God look at that mess.. all for me? Such a good girl aren’t you?..” He smirked as he saw that stubborn resistance to his persistent use of the pet name. Tugging his suit jacket off he tossed it aside, pulling the remainder of your ripped dress aside. Hands stroking your exposed flesh. Starting to loosen only some of his shirt buttons till his chest was on show. Rolling his sleeves up further.

Leaning over your body now, looking down at you. Basking in your vulnerable state. The scent of your sweet musk invaded his nostrils. Dipping his head down, he speckled your bare tits with kisses. Dragging his tongue over your left breast. The right one cupped in his palm as he massaged. Hungrily, suckling against that left nipple till it swelled in between his lips. Finding yourself grinding upward you failed to control your hopeless little noises.

“Such a slut aren't you... you are mine. Say it.” He said sinfully.

Hesitating at first. Coming completely undone.

“Yours... I am y-yours... Dereks good girl..” You blurt out. A devilish laugh left his lips. Red washed over your skin, so completely lost in him.

“That’s my girl...” He bit at his tongue as he pulled his hand away. Patting at your ass cheek instead. Before he pulled back his palm, swatting to give a proper slap. The skin rippled.

Derek's phone continued to ring, and that is when he lost it snatching it from his pocket. Frustratedly.

“Don’t stop. Okay?” He rasped. Dragging his hand away. As you suddenly longed for its return. Watching as his fingers were dripping with your pleasure still. His hands gripped your waist. Yanking your body down the bed, so your ass was perched against the edge. Pushing your thighs open some, as he began resting his knee between your legs. Shoving firmly against your pussy as it spread against his knee. He felt the slick pleasure stain through the material of his trousers. Using his soaked hand he forced his first two fingers into your mouth. Your cheeks burned as he did. Tasting your excitement on his skin.

“Now suck." He insisted. Grinning wildly as you obeyed so willfully.

"That's it, suck for me... I need you to try and be quiet, can you do that?..” He was not asking, this was his demand. Nonetheless, you nodded so eagerly. Rocking his knee back and forth, your hips jolt like there was electricity sparking through your veins. Stopping his movement he gestured.

“Show me what you need, grind for me.." Reaching for your hips, helping at first. "That’s it..harder. I know you ..” He smiled deviously. Dragging the phone to his ear.

“What the fuck do you want?.. Whatever it is, it can fucking wait. Do you think I just have time to wait around, fucking answering your calls?” he snarls. Hearing his rage you quicken your deprived humping. Obeying him. Whimpering as you suckled his fingers wetly. As he fucks at your mouth with them. Allowing you to suck their length. Staring, as if entranced for a moment.

“I don’t give a shit." He hissed. His eyes never shifted from yours as you followed his instructions. Twitching within his pants.

"It is simple. You fucking take the gun, shove it down that motherfuckers throat and you tell him, tell him what he is going to do or blow his fucking brains out.” He was frustrated. But also pent up. His eyes watched how divine you looked under him.

Your eyes fluttered as you followed his instructions. Even as he spoke with such vindictive anger. Soaking against his suit pants. Drool leaving the corners of your lips. Edging at your own pace. Reaching that peak almost. A little faster.

He watched you, barely listening to the panicked stranger on the other side of the phone.

“Don’t fucking phone me till you are done…fuck off..” He stammered, hurling the phone across the room, as you heard it crack against the wall. He couldn’t wait any longer. Refusing to starve himself of his lust for you any longer.

“Are you intentionally teasing me?..." He bit his lower lip. Pressing his palms on either side of your head, leaning down. Inches from you as you sucked further against your fingers. Your eyes glazed with a burning need.

"Making me fucking want you... you are so needy look at you.” Seizing your hips as he tore his nails against your skin. Firmly he flipped you to your tummy with ease. Kicking your heels apart with his foot. Rough in the heat of the moment.

“Hands behind your back.” Rasping as the words spewed from his lips. With no moment of hesitation, you followed his directions. Wanting to feel him. How his girth splits you open. Stretching you.

You started burying your face in the soft sheets as you brace for him. Your cunt yearning to feel him fuck you mercilessly.

Loosening the buckle, he ripped his belt from his pants. Clutching it as he contemplated for a moment. His grin pulled at his lips as he looked down at your delightful body. Tracing his eyes over you. He eased his hand upward. Striking the belt down, the leather snapped against your asscheek. Pain rattled through you. Your head snapped back from the sheets as you screamed out erotically. Delicately, he petted your hair with his free hand as you nestled into his touch.

"D-derek.." You sighed feverishly. "Again... p-please...” You whispered so quietly he barely heard at first. Watching you with such intensity, not entirely surprised, but taunting nonetheless.

“You kinky little whore..” His lips curled again. Spoiling you with this pathetic submission of yours. Raising the belt again. As it struck you hind a second time. Squeals left your quivering lips again. As the markings were raw. Dropping the belt beside you on the bed. Noticing the slick pleasure spilling between your thighs. Tracing your quivering sex with his thumb.

He loosened the button of his pants, then slid the zip downwards. Not quite taking them off, though pushing his boxers out of the way within them. Taking his throbbing cock in his palm. Stroking himself as he gawped at your body below him. 'All mine' Derek thought to himself.

“You are such a good girl, aren't you? I’m so proud of how easy you break for me..” Mocking you affectionately. Bending as he said it. Exhaling atop your rear. Pecking the red marks he’d branded upon your butt. Stroking them under his thumb. As you mewled painfully.

Diverting his touch, he stroked your dripping pussy with his fingertips. Using your excitement to lube over his dick as he jerked. Stepping closer. Pushing his hips forward, as he grinds at your spread folds. Teasing his tip against your now swollen clit. Derek was just glad you could no longer see him as his head was thrown back. Gasping into the air.

Unable to control yourself, your hips back into him. Trying to meet his rhythm. As he angled his body. Pushing you down, as he began sinking into you fiercely. His hips smacked against your ass, as he leaned his head back further, allowing his grunts to flow from him.

“So fucking tight..” He grumbles. Kneading the skin of your waist under his touch. Tearing back from you, and slamming back inside your needy fuckhole, as you call out his name. Clawing at his bedsheets.

Continuing that motion of his hips. Quickening. Grasping the back of your head. Shoving your face into the sheets. Muffling your beautiful sounds, as they only served to excite him too much.

Slipping his hand into the curve of your back. “That’s it..that’s it, baby girl..” He puffed.

You were so close. He could feel it. How your walls clenched, he was pushing you further to your limit.

“Not yet..” He growled. Sliding deeper. As the echo of his slaps against you filled the air. Slithering his hand around your hips. Tucking it under your body, fingers nestled between your thighs. Finding that pressure point. Circling over your clit, the swirling of his touch, drew further intense moans from your lips.

Huffing out. Moaning under him as you lift your head. Catching your breath as your face glowed. That pressure built between your legs as your breaths grew increasingly dazed. Gritting your teeth.

“D-Derek I can’t..please I need to..I need to... Please let me” Your pleading could have melted him right there and then. Tempted to give in, though he kept fucking you with such greed.

“You can do it... keep going. Don’t fucking stop..” He grunted. Getting harsher. Making it all that more difficult. His touches danced delicately down your clit. Kissing between your shoulder blades. Licking your sweat from his lips.

With his free hand pulling your head back softly, he tucked your hair behind your ear. As he pounded at your pussy. His grunts turned to guttural moans. Pinning you in place, as he became ravenous. Too close for you now. Struggling to keep up with his own pace.

“Be a good girl, and cum for me..” He murmured hotly against your ear. Tensing against you, the throb of his dick pulsating in your tender walls as you lost all control. Rolling your eyes back as you called out for him. Your orgasm squirted from you in waves. Spluttering against him in a wet little mess. Drenching the length of his cock fucking you, smearing over his naval. You felt as his thrusts grew sporadic.

His fingers dug firmly into your clit as he groped your body. Sliding every inch inside, he grunted out a deep melodic whine. Reaching his breaking point, spraying his cum deep inside of you. Unable to fathom pulling out, not now. Never. He twitched and struggled to compose himself. Shuddering against your body as he pulled back one last time and fucked the rest of his cum deep inside of you.

“Fuckkk you are such..a good girl. Holy shit”.Watching as you puddled under him. Dripping with his cream. He pulled his hips back to see the mess that trailed from you. Grinning. as he smeared it up and down your pink folds. Hearing your sensitive whimpers, as you struggle. Your clit was so tender as he only further teased.

You peeked back over your shoulder. It was rare he looked so playful. Narrowing your eyes some. He caught your gaze. Raising his eyebrow, winking. Spanking that pretty ass of yours, as his sweat dripped from his chin to his chest.

“Did you enjoy that?..” He hissed gripping you as you giggled, pushing you onto your back. To see your flustered cheeks as you covered them shamefully hiding your smile.

As you toyed with him. He shook his head.

“No way come on.. let me see how much of a pathetic mess I made you...” He rasps mischievously, climbing over you. Pulling at your palms. Pushing them on either side of your head.

“Stop..” You complained. As he finally cupped your cheeks. Seeing how your mascara had smeared. And your lipstick was smudged. Deliberately you stare into his eyes, moaning for him. Under his mercy.

“Such a mess. And yet I didn’t even force you on your knees..” He mocked.

“There’s still time...” You pouted through a sly grin.

Rolling off of you laughing. He laid on his back. The suit pants practically around his ankles now. Brushing back his curly highlights.

“I don’t think we can go back downstairs if you don’t have a dress anymore..” He reminded you of the ongoing party below. Hearing the music rumble loudly. Likely due to the noise of the pair of you. Fucking like animals.

He reached into the bedside drawer, clasping a pack of smokes.

Parting his lips he rests a cigarette between them. The spark of the lighter sparked as it burned alight. Though you snatched it from between his lips before he got the chance to take a draw.

You inhale softly. Leaning over him as you blow the smoke over his lips. Derek parted them. Inhaling the smoke from your breath.

“I’d rather stay here anyway..” You smirked.

“Oh, I bet you would..” Rolling against you pinning your hands above your head as scoffed. Nibbling against your neck as you writhed.

#Beekeeper (2024)#Derek Danforth (Beekeeper 2024)#Derek Danforth #Derek Danforth x You #Derek Danforth x Reader #Derek Danforth x F!Reader #Derek Danforth Smut #Josh Hutcherson #JHutch #Fanfic #Smut #My Writing #I have no excuses anymore #I have seized to care

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bugsmunched · 1 year ago

Text

" Toy and Owner " - Derek Danforth X Male! Reader

Summary: Derek gets off the phone with a particularly annoying employee and his pretty little toy knows just how to ease the pain.

Contents: AMAB! Reader, he/him pronouns used for reader, Oral sex (M receiving), drug usage mention, vaping, degradation, hair pulling, consensual hitting, choking, Derek is mean,spoiled brat Derek, Reader is just seen as an object, Dick piercings, spitting, face fucking,

SMUT UNDER THE CUT! MINORS DNI!!!!!

ASKS ARE OPEN! IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS PLEASE ASK!!

You weren't exactly sure what to call the relationship between you and Derek Danforth. You certainly weren't boyfriends by any means, as he simply saw you as a toy that should do nothing except sit still, look pretty, and pleasure him whenever he sees fit, which is quite frequent. But you weren't friends either, so you couldn't be friends with benefits, or even really fuck buddies. What the two of you were was simply Toy and Owner.

You tapped your fingers against the window of the limousine that the two of you were in together, trying your best to block out his angry words towards one of his many scum-bag employees.

"- maybe you should try and do your fucking job, and then it wouldn't be on the fucking line! If I don't see improvements in a week, you're done. " Derek threatened before he hung up the phone, letting it fall into his lap as he pulled out a vape. Typically the vapes were laced with some sort of drug that would send the sociopathic con artist to another dimension, but since you came along, he found the drug of you far more addicting.

You knew better than to say anything, knowing that the CEO couldn't give less of a shit about your opinion or advice. So instead of saying anything, you simply slipped out of your seat and crawled in front of him, sitting on your knees and looking up at him, placing your head in his lap. His free hand found its way into your hair, tangling itself in the strands.

"slut. " he spat, venom dripping from his words, making it seem like he truly hated you. You didn't really care if he hated you or not, after all, it wasn't your job to be liked by him, it was your job to please him, to make him forget about everything else.

He let go of your hair and shoved your head off of his lap, leaning back against the seat of the limo. He held the vape up to his lips and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling, blowing the cloud directly into your face. " Well? Get to work. I can't wait all night. " He demanded, arrogance filling the air.

Your hands quickly fumbled with his belt, struggling with the stupidly expensive and quite honestly useless accessory. He always wore his pants too tight and never needed a belt, but to him, that stupid belt looked cool since it was expensive, so he wore it. Finally, you got the belt undone, moving onto the button and zipper of his pants.

He sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes at how long it was taking for you to just get his cock out. " You're a pretty useless sex toy, you know that? Can't even get me out of my pants in a timely manner, hurry the fuck up, bitch. " He huffed, smacking your cheek lightly, as a warning. You knew that if you didn't hurry up, he'd get far more impatient.

You rolled your eyes in response, going to pull his dick out when a hand went around your throat. " What the fuck was that? " He growled a little bit, squeezing the sides of your neck. As much of an asshole as he was, he would never hurt you past what you had agreed on. Would he purposely hurt others? Absolutely. But you? You were special. You were his property, and what was the point in damaging your own property?

"Sorry, sir. " You mumbled out an apology that both of you knew you didn't mean. He let go of your throat and huffed, taking another hit of his vape and blowing the cloud into the air.

"Good boy. Now, get to work, I expect to cum before we get to the event. " He demanded, a smug look on his face as you nodded in compliance.

You reached into his pants and pulled out his hard on, subconsciously licking your lips at the sight. No matter how many times you did this, it still mildly surprised you every time just how big he was. Jacobs ladder piercings ran up his length, each piercing designating an inch of length. Without hesitation, you leant forward, wrapping your lips around his tip. He gave a little whimper in response, his hand finding itself tangled messily in your hair once again.

Slowly, you began to push your head down, the ball ends of the piercings hitting the sides of your mouth. You were always careful to take him slowly, as to avoid any discomfort for the both of you. If you went too fast, you could accidentally tug at a piercing, which you learned he did not like. And although he didn't mind seeing you gag and choke on his cock, along with the mass amount of saliva, you didn't enjoy the bruises that showed up in your throat the next day.

After relaxing your throat a bit more, you pushed your head down even further and soon had your nose buried in the neatly trimmed pubes that rested at the base of his cock. Spit bubbled out from the sides of your mouth, running down his balls and pooling on the seat beneath him. He groaned and pushed down on your head, holding you there as he ground his hips upwards, the tip of his dick grinding against your throat causing you to gag even more.

" fuck, perfect little hole for me to fuck...shit I'm just gonna fuck your mouth, alright? Cause I know you hate having to do your job. So all you have to do is sit there and fucking take it. " He hummed softly. Guess you were going to get bruises after all.

He pulled your head up slightly, giving himself some room to begin thrusting up into your mouth, his tip slamming against the back of your throat repeatedly, which caused you to choke, drool falling down your face and onto the floor below you.

"God, you're such a messy slut, aren't you? You always make such a pathetic mess! It's hysterical how pathetic you are, dumb bitch. " He spat as he pulled you off his cock. You panted heavily, tears pricking in your eyes. Just as you managed to catch your breath, he shoved you back down onto his cock and began relentlessly thrusting in and out of your mouth once again.

He was using your mouth like a little fleshlight, and you both loved it. To him, you were nothing but an object for him to use for his pleasure. Once again, simply put, you were a toy and he was your owner.

Tears spilled out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and mixing with your drool on your chin and his cock. He loved seeing you cry because you couldn't take his cock. "pathetic. " He hissed as he pulled you off his cock again, just to spit in your face and force you back down.

After a little while of choking on his cock and nearly drowning in your own spit, the bleach blonde above you started to whimper and his breath began to get shaky, tell tale signs that he was close to cumming.

"fuck, little slut, if you get even a drop of cum on the leather interior of this limo, you'll have it coming. " Derek warned you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and less rhythmic.

As he got closer, he got louder and louder, not caring if the limo driver could hear him. That driver has heard everything that had ever happened in that limo, including the time Derek fucked you till you passed out on his cock.

He whimpered loudly, taking another long hit of his vape, exhaling with a loud moan as cum began to spill down your throat. You gagged a little bit at the suddenness, but managed to swallow each and every drop, not getting a single one on the leather interior.

He pulled you off his dick, whining a little bit at the loss of warmth. " At least someone knows how to do their job around here. " He cupped your face with his hand and pat it gently. " Good job, slut. " He hummed a bit. It was rare that he praised you, and often times when he did, it was because he was so sex drunk that he didn't realize what he was doing.

He stuffed himself back into his pants, rubbing the stubble on his chin, patting his lap. " Get off the floor and get back up here. " He commanded, watching as you scrambled to your feet and then placed yourself back in his lip, leaning against his chest. He held the vape up to your lips, offering it to you. Just as you took a bit, his phone began to ring. Once he picked up, he soon enough began yelling again. Looks like your job wasn't quite done yet.

#smut #Derek Danforth #derek danforth x reader #josh hutcherson #the beekeeper #josh hutcherson smut

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