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phoward89 · 3 days

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Based on this ask

Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Call Girl!Reader, Dom!Coriolanus

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is in himself his own warning. Dubcon, Noncon, choking, impact play, kissing, degradation, biting, p in v, breeding kink, creampie, talks of sex work, talks of past sex trafficking, talks of poisoning/murder

You stare out the pitch black tinted window as the driver of your black luxury car drives you to your destination, the Presidential Palace. You've been acting as President Coriolanus Snow's personal high class call girl for years. Well, ever since he became Head Gamemaker and saw you in Pluribus Bell’s illicit, but high end sex club.

Pluribus had acquired you when General Byzantine had put you up on the auction block after using you (and literally torturing you) as his personal fuckdoll. Despite looking like a broken piece of shit, hatred and fire burned in your beautiful eyes. According to Pluribus, it was the look in your eyes that made the old man buy you; put you in charge of the girls in his sex club.

So, basically, Pluribus made you a Madame. Not that you minded. Hell, it meant that you didn't have to fuck nutjob, crazy, overly kinky whackjob Capitol men anymore.

But when Coriolanus Snow came into the club, after being invited by Pluribus after breaking off an engagement (why things didn't work with the Cardew banking heir, Livia, you didn't know; didn't care either) and laid his icy blue eyes on you, well, he just knew that he had to have you.

At first you told Pluribus no when he approached you with Snow's request, but then the platinum blonde pretty boy cornered you with an offer you couldn't refuse. A private penthouse, your own car and driver, a black Amex, and never having to work another day if you agree to be at his beck and call as his personal call girl.

His high class girl, as he called you.

That was 5 years ago.

Yea…

At this rate you'll probably be President Snow's high class girl forever.

Hopefully he finds himself a wife so you can move on with your life. Maybe take all that money you have squirreled away and get a nice beach house somewhere in District 4. The weather's lovely there. Maybe you'll even find somebody to settle down with; even have a kid or two.

It'd be nice to be able to retire from whoring. You've been in the game since your family sold you at age 15 to pay off debts. You've been fucking for a living for a decade now; it's getting old.

But at least the President is the kindest out of all the men you've been with, which is saying something because Coriolanus is as cold as his name, Snow.

You're so far inside of your head that you don't even notice the car stop or your driver, Herbie open the door.

Herbie clears his throat, only.to announce, 'Ma’am, we're here.”, causing your self imposed spell over your mind to break.

“Thank you, Herbie.” You simply told him, stretching your hand out for him to help you out of the car.

“I'll be here waiting for you, Ma’am.” Your driver told you, shutting the door once you were out of the car.

“Thank you. I won't be long.” You politely assured Herbie before walking towards the side entrance of the Presidential Mansion, which was marked with a trellis of vining; blooming roses. The side entrance leads straight to Coriolanus' personal living quarters; of course you had the key for it.

Your black designer stilettos loudly echo against the marble as you walk up the white and gold staircase that separates the president's personal living room, sitting room, kitchen, and dining room from the bed chambers, bathrooms, and his private study. You've only ever been in his bedroom and the sitting room. Both were immaculate, so you assume that the rest of his living quarters in the presidential palace must be extravagant too.

One thing you've noted about President Coriolanus Snow over the last few years of knowing him is that he has high class taste. A posca taste, if you'll call it. The more expensive, the better.

And it's that trait of his that has you baffled about why he's kept you around so long to fulfill his needs. Surely he can find himself some young, beautiful, and naive high class twit from a rich family to groom into his perfect classy woman.

His First Lady.

Surely, he must be getting tired of paying for you- putting you up in a high end penthouse that's about a 5 or so minute drive from his palace. Back before he became president your place was literally the next building over from his. Yea, that's how classy and ritzy of a penthouse you're in.

“I'm in my room, darling.” Coriolanus called out to you as soon as your heels clicked against the marble of his second story floor.

No shit, he's in his room. He's always in his room. He's either sitting on the bed end settee or on his ornate sofa, but either way he's donning his waistcoat and smoking while waiting for you. The epitome of regal master.

“I’ll be right there, Coriolanus.” You called back, speeding up your steps slightly to reach the white and gold scrolled double doors of his chambers.

Opening the door and walking inside, you spot him lounging on his cream sofa. His legs are crossed and he has an arm lazily thrown over the back of the sofa’s ornate mahogany frame. Coriolanus’ platinum hair his in its natural curly state, which is a rarity, but also means that he ruined his slicked back look by running his hands thru his hair all day- something he does when frustrated or nervous. And, like always while awaiting your visit, he's smoking.

“Darling, I told you last time you were here to call me Coryo.” The President told you, reaching his arm out to tip his ashes into the crystal ashtray that's on the mahogany coffee table.

“I'm sorry, Coryo. I forgot.” You lied thru a smile, a smile that was so fake it wasn't even funny.

You didn't forget, you just don't want to call him nicknames. Not when you know that your arrangement has an expiration date; one that'll be coming up soon enough.

Sitting up, he pointed to you with his cigarette and said, “Show me what you wore for me tonight.”

He did this every time you came over for his booty call. It was a ritual you're used to. You'd be shocked if he didn't ask you to model the lingerie for him.

With a sultry smile, you untie and unbutton the long red trenchcoat you're wearing. “It's a new set that I bought the other day.” You inform Coriolanus while opening up the coat and letting it fall off your shoulders; onto the floor.

President Snow's mouth watered as he took in your form dressed up in a lacy black bustier and matching cheeky panties along with those black stilettos with the red bottoms- the ones that he loved seeing you in. He thought that those heels did wonders for your legs, legs that he loved to have wrapped around his body- whether he was fucking you or feasting on your cunt.

Snubbing his cigarette in the crystal ashtray and rising from the sofa, the president smirked, “I do enjoy it when you go lingerie shopping, my darling rose.” Striding over to you, only to circle you like a predator circle's it's prey, the regal platinum blonde looked at you hungrily. As if he's starving and you're a filet mignon.

Coriolanus stopped right in front of you, only to give you a smoldering look while unbuttoning his maroon waistcoat, his long fingers moving lithely. Shrugging off the vest and chucking it towards a nearby sitting chair, he closed the distance between you. His tall form towers over you; you know what he wants from you.

It's what he always wants from you.

You ran your hands over his chest, which was quite toned underneath his crisp white dress shirt, and pressed your lips to his Adam's apple. As you kissed a tantalizing trail down his neck and to the collar of his shirt, leaving blood red lips tip stains in your wake, his large hands snaked around you. His breathing was husky and lustful as you lifted your head up, staring straight into his baby blues, while unbuttoning his shirt. Your red nails a stark contrast to his shirt.

“I have a business trip I need to attend in 12.” Coriolanus said while you pushed his shirt off of him after opening it up. You just nodded, raking your red nails up and down his chest before tweaking his nipples. Just the way that he likes.

You thought that all talks of his meeting was over, so you leaned forward to kiss him, but he stopped you by lifting up one of his hands and grabbing your chin. “The mining bosses are having some issues with their workers meeting production goals; I'm leaving in the morning and you're coming with me.”

Your eyes went wide. You can't go to 12. No, you won't go to 12. You refuse to go back to that shit hole you once called home, where your family- that sold you into a life of sexual slavery to a brothel for money to pay off drinking debts- lives.

“I'm not going to 12, Coriolanus. We'll see each other when you get back.” You firmly told him.

Which wasn't what he wanted to hear. In fact, he wanted you to nod your head; maybe make a remark about needing to pack, and then get to fucking him. You refusing him was never in the cards.

You just dealt him a hand he wasn't expecting. But, President Snow's an excellent poker player; he'll make due with the cards you've just given him.

Coriolanus' large hand slipped from your chin only to grab your throat. His face dipped so close to yours that his hot breath, which smelt like smoke, mints, bourbon, and coffee, fanned over your face. “I'm not asking you, Y/N. I'm telling you that you're coming to District 12 with me.” His thumb pressed into your windpipe, not hard enough to cut off your breathing, but hard enough to make you wheeze and pay attention to him as he spoke in a cold, authoritarian tone. “I fucking own you, so when I tell you to do something you do it. You don't get to say no to me.”

President Snow looked like a crazed, disheveled mess as he chastised you. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on. Because it did.

Oh how it did. It might be wrong being turned on by a power hungry zealot who's telling you that you're his property, but the way he looked while doing it. Hot damn, it made your pussy pool; stain your black lacy panties with a wet patch.

Yea…you're pretty fucked up at this point in your life.

The platinum blonde's large hand slid from your hip over your lower belly, only to sneak under the waistband of your panties. He dipped his mouth to your ear, grabbing your pussy in his large calloused hands, while telling you, “I own this pussy, darling, and if I want to fuck it every goddamn day of my business trip then I sure as hell will.” Coriolanus bit your earlobe, hard enough to crack the pearl earring you're wearing.

An earring he bought you in the early days of your arrangement.

He pulled away, only to look at you darkly. Spitting the cracked pearl earring in your face, he pulled his hand out of your underwear. He brought his fingers up to his prominent nose, only to inhale your scent. His eyes fluttered shut and his face contorted into a look of pleasure. He was, for a lack of a better word, getting high off of your musk.

Oh yea, the President sure was something else…but who are you to judge? You're his personal whore, so…

His icy eyes popped open, with a lust filled crazed look, as he sucked his fingers one by one. Savoring the taste of your juices while keeping his tight hold on your neck with his other hand. His tongue swirled around his pinky, the last finger to be licked clean by him. “You taste divine. Too bad you need to be disciplined for your rude behavior and won't be having your cunt eaten by me tonight.”

“Disciplined for my rude behavior? Coryo, the only thing I did was tell you that I'm not going to 12.” You spoke up, standing your ground to your, for a lack of a better word, owner.

Coryo’s fingers pressed hard into your neck, no doubt leaving behind finger shaped bruises that would need covered up by IL MAKIAGE tomorrow. Looks like you'll have to make another trip to Sephora soon if you don't want to have bruises all over your neck shown off to the public. How embarrassing would that be, going to various stores with chokehold bruising all over your neck. You shudder at the thought of it.

“Talking back is rude behavior, baby.” He hissed before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was hard and bruising. Biting your lower lip; drawing blood, he pulled away from the kiss. Giving you a dark, slightly unhinged look, the stoic platinum blonde swore, “Bad girls get spankings and you're going to get so many that you won't be able to sit on your red, hot ass tomorrow during our damn train ride.”

Coriolanus is sitting on the red velveteen settee at the end of his gold and red velvet framed bed. You're bent over his knees, ass up in the air while your head rests on the settee. Your arms are outstretched; your hands arm firmly grabbing the end of the red velvet material for purchase as the President smacks one ass cheek and then the other.

*Smack, smack*

Coriolanus chuckles at how red your ass is. He's been at this for a while now; both of you have lost count of how many times his hand has come down on your cheeks. He rubs the sting out of your red ass cheeks before raising his hand high up in the air and bringing it down on the right cheek, only to repeat the action on the left cheek.

*Smack, smack*

Your designer black heels are still on your feet, so they sway in the air as you kick out of reflex due to the spankings. God, he would make you keep the heels on for this. Hell, this spanking session seems to be the longest in your entire life with him. Usually he indulges in a slap or two to your ass while taking you from behind, but never anything like this.

But it could be worse. He could be a crazy, torture hungry, fucking sadist like that crazy ass General Byzantine was. The man who beat you within an inch to your life and put you up on the auction block once a couple of his Avoxes had nurtured you to suitable health.

You were overjoyed when he died about 4-4 ½ years ago. All the media outlets say that General Byzantine died from tainted tea at one of the popular tea houses in the Capitol. Apparently Coriolanus was there with him, having a meeting for political purposes since he was running for Senate and nearly died. You remember that he had canceled your sessions for a week, but still put a hefty sum in your bank account; even requested that you wear a certain color lingerie (blood red) when you resumed your little booty calls with him once he recovered from nearly dying from tainted tea.

Your black lacy cheeky panties slid up your ass crack from the force of all the spankings. Coriolanus didn't say a word, just silently righted the panties before landing another pair of smacks to your ass cheeks, causing you to let out a loud squeal.

“Did my bad baby girl learn her lesson, or do you need more?” President Snow asked, his ardent tone a bit dark and mocking as he soothed your ass by rubbing it- with both palms this time.

“I've learnt my lesson, Mister President, Sir.” You told him, choking back a moan as you grew wetter and wetter from his hands just rubbing the sting out of your ass. Oh God, how your core aches for his cock.

Coriolanus let out a deep, throaty moan at your answer. He loves it, fucking loves it when you call him Mister President and Sir. Oh, and put them both together- yea he's fucking feral.

The president slightly opened your legs, only to swipe a long finger up your wet, clothed center. “Oh, darling, you're soaked.” He proudly announced. “Is that all for me?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked, already knowing that it was all for him.

You knew that the platinum president didn't need an answer, but decided to indulge him with one anyway. “Yes, Coryo. It's always for you.”

Coryo bent down and peppered your beet red ass with kisses. The plushness of his lips against your hot sensitive skin makes you squirm. Chuckling, Coriolanus sat up and pulled your heels off, one by one, and let them fall to the floor with a loud thud. He helped you stand on your feet, only to pull down your panties and toss you onto the bed.

As you lay on your stomach, head buried in his pillow, which smelled like him- like roses, you heard the sound of Coryo slipping out of his black floor shines while unbuckling his belt. You peeked over your shoulder, only to see him quickly unzipping his maroon pants. You turned back around, resting your head back on his pillow, as he quickly shed his pants and boxer briefs.

“Lift your ass up high for me and spread your legs as wide as they'll go, baby.” The President ordered you, to which you obliged him. Your ass was raw and stung, but your pussy was throbbing with need, as Coryo kneeled right behind you on his king sized bed. “Fuck, you're always such a needy lil slut for me, darling.” He remarked upon seeing your cunt dripping and glistening for him.

Looking over your shoulder, you smirked, “Only for you, Coryo, my Mister President.”

The platinum blonde's icy eyeballs nearly rolled into the back of his head at your words. Words that went straight to his cock, making it harder- if that was even possible.

“Yes, I'm your President and you're my perfect, pretty, lil slut.” Coriolanus groaned, teasing your clit with the angry, red, leaky tip of his cock. “You remember that the next time I tell you to do something, baby girl.” He said, grabbing your hips and snapping forward; sheathing his entire 8 inches into your soaking wet cunt. “Fuck, darling, you're so goddamn tight for me.” Coriolanus groaned, pulling out only to surge forward, causing you to mewl out in pleasure.

President Coriolanus Snow has a big cock and he sure does know how to use it. That's for sure. And you let him know that too.

“Of course I'm tight for you, Coryo. You're the biggest cock I've had, the only man whose tip kisses my cervix; whose girth stretches me out with a delicious sting.” You honestly tell him, stroking his ego and making him start to pound into you relentlessly.

Hearing you say that out of all the men that you've had in your whoring career that he's the biggest and the best makes his heart soar with overwhelming pride. So much so, that he'll just have to keep you around.

Permanently.

Coryo doesn't think that you'll have any protests about it. Maybe he'll bring up the idea while you're away on business in 12. Use the time away as both a vacation and a business trip. There is a vacant cabin in the woods that he knows of by a lake that could be a setting for a romantic night or two.

“Oh…fuck…Coryo…” You moan into the pillow that you're holding onto for dear life as you surge forward with every hard, fast thrust Coryo gives you.

“You like it when I fuck you face first in the mattress like a dirty fucking slut, don't you darling?” He groans, rutting even faster while placing a hand on the middle of your back; pushing you further down into the mattress. “Fuck, you're so sexy like this, baby.” The President huffs. “So fucking sexy.”

You moan into the pillow, but it comes out in a heap of garbled drools, as Coryo's cock hits that special spongy spot deep inside of you while his heavy cum filled balls slap against your swollen, neglected clit.

“That's it, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock, you pathetic slut.” Coriolanus encouraged in a half groan as you began to meet his thrust with ones of your own. You could help it, you needed to cum so badly. Fucking yourself on his cock while he pounded you was the only way to do that.

Turning your head, so that the side of your face rest on his drool soaked pillow, you mewl and whine, “So close, Coryo. I'm so close.” Feeling that coil in your lower belly tighten, you beg, “Please, let me cum, Mister President. Please, make me cum.”

Coryo quickly unhooked the long row of clasps that held your black lacy bodice together while cooing, “Don't worry, my pretty baby, I'll make you cum” The bodice fell off your shoulders, but Coryo slipped his arm around your middle and pulled you up on your knees, only to yank the black bustier off of you; tossing it to the side.

Coryo's hands instantly grabbed hold of your tits as he continued to harshly fuck you. His hands squeezed them roughly and pinched your nipples, all the while your hands clawed his wrists for leverage as he felt your climax coming on. Coriolanus knows you're close by how your cunt's clenching around his cock. “Fucking cum for me, darling.” he ordered, biting the crook of your neck.

The feel of his teeth roughly nipping your skin, only to use his tongue to soothe it, paired with his deep, erratic thrusts, his heavy balls slapping against your clit deliciously, and his large, calloused hands roughly fondling, had you cumming with a loud moan. A moan that was a string of curses mixed with his name: Coryo.

He fucked you thru your orgasm only to shove you back down onto the bed and plunge his cock hard and fast into you. His pounding was so relentless as he chased his own release that you felt another orgasm on the cusp. Oh gods, his cock felt so fucking good hitting you on all the right spots.

Oh fuck…

“I'm gonna fuck you full with my heirs, baby.” Coryo panted, his thrust becoming sloppy. “Can't wait to fucking knock you up; see your belly swell with my growing baby inside.” He babbled as his hands roughly held onto your shoulders for leverage. “You're gonna look so beautiful all round and full of my baby, my darling rose.”

You didn't pay him any mind. Didn't say a word about his string of impossible words. You're on birth control, so his fantasy of knocking you up is just that. A fantasy. A breeding kink, to be politically correct.

Coriolanus’ hips stuttered, once, twice, three times before he was moaning, “Fuck, Y/N, baby. Fuck…”, and filling your pussy with hot ropes of his thick cum.

Feeling his hot cum spurting into your womb sent you over the edge. “Coryo…” You mewled, cumming for a second time.

He didn't stop and pull out like he usually did.

No…

This time, Coriolanus kept fucking you. He fucked his load right into your pussy, causing you to let out a shaky moan from both overstimulation and your third orgasm of the night.

Coryo finally pulled out, but only after filling you up with a second load of his thick, hot cum. Cum that was somehow leftover in his balls from the first time.

The President smugly grinned as he watched his second load of the night slowly drip out of your puffy, abused pussy- looking like beautiful white pearls.

Ah, pearls. That reminds him…

“I bought you a new jewelry set for the trip. Fancier pearls than the ones you had; they're packed in your bag.” Coriolanus told you, sitting by your side and rubbing your back as you lay on the bed like a ragdoll.

Ugh. Of course, he bought you new things, including luggage, and packed them up for the damn trip to District 12- your personal hell- that he's dragging you on.

When you didn't say a word, Coryo pushed the strands of sweat soaked hair away from your face and asked, “Are you alright, baby?”

Pushing his hand away from your face, you simply assured him, “Yea, I'm fine.”

Nodding, he told you, “I'll call your driver, tell him that you're staying the night; then I'll run us a bath.”

You've never stayed the night before, prompting you to ask, “Why're you letting me stay the night with you, Coryo?”, as he stood up.

“We're needed at the train station bright and early, Y/N. It's just easier for you to stay here so we can head out together in the morning.” The President explained before taking off to do the things he told you about.

Of course, he wanted you to stick around tonight so he can make sure that you're on that train with him heading to 12 in the morning. You're his personal high class girl. His glorified whore. If President Coriolanus Snow wants you with him tonight to ensure that you step on that train with him tomorrow, so he can fuck you during his stupid business trip in hell, then that's what he's going to get.

You don't have a say in the matter. You're just around until he gets bored of you; finds something younger and prettier to satisfy his carnal desires with.

Only you thing you don't know is that President Coriolanus Snow’s never going to get bored of you or trade you in for a younger model. In fact he thinks you're the best girl he's ever had.

Hell, the devil himself knows that the President killed for you- even if you don't know it.

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laurrrelise · 3 days

Text

the hutcherson multiverse™ has a horror movie night

WC: 2.1k

Tags: just a fun little blurb (i guess it’s a sort of big blurb) (also would this be considered fluff? i have no clue), slight spoilers for Scream , Toy Story 3, and La La Land (can’t believe i’m actually saying this LMAO), mentions of sexual fantasies, Derek is a freak, alcohol, cursing, horror movie mentions etc.

idk why i wrote this to be honest i guess i just love the hutcherson multiverse / jhutchverse LMAO

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Josh opens his front door, a beaming smile on his face. “Hey! You guys made it!”

Derek leans against the wall outside the door. “Fuck are you surprised for? We told you we were coming.”

Mike’s overwhelming admiration for horror movies is hidden beneath his typically scruffy demeanor. “What movie are we watching?”

“I don’t know, we have to decide. Peeta and Billy are already here, we’re just waiting on Clapton.” Josh steps to the side, allowing them to walk in. Derek pushes past without hesitation, Mike politely following behind.

Derek collapses onto the sofa, flinging his legs onto Peeta’s lap. “Hey, bread boy.” Peeta gives him a half-smile while Mike takes a seat next to Billy on the other side of the couch.

Josh gets the door as Clapton arrives. “Hey, party people! We got beer?”

Mike gives him a look of confusion. “No. And even if we did, you wouldn’t get any.”

“You know what we do have?” Josh excitedly walks in front of the TV, grinning ear to ear. “Tons of food! Wolf hooked us up.”

“Who the hell is Wolf?”

Peeta sits up straight, mouth agape. “You have a pet wolf? Katniss told me she saw one of those before.”

Josh shakes his head at him. “What? No. Wolf is a retired demolitions expert who’s also a genius in the kitchen. He made us a popcorn bar and virgin cocktails, since, y’know.” He looks at Clapton and Peeta.

“Dude, you’re such a buzzkill.”

Derek pulls a bottle of whiskey out of his jacket. “That’s fine. Can’t fucking catch me unprepared.”

Josh ignores him, continuing, “Just… try not to bother Wolf when he’s cooking. He gets really… focused. And violent, if interrupted.”

They all nod, and Josh grabs the TV remote to start deciding on a movie. “Alright, what are we watching?”

Derek smiles. “You guys ever seen The Poughkeepsie Tapes? Or Megan is Missing?”

“Hell no. We are not watching those,” Billy says firmly.

Clapton stirs. “What are they?”

“Too fuckin’ scary for you, that’s what they are.”

Clapton furrows his brows. “I don’t get scared easy, asshole. I’ve watched, like, every horror movie ever. With a straight face… except for those.”

“Hereditary?” Derek grins evilly.

Mike and Josh both look at him. “Absolutely not.”

“I hope you guys realize I’ll watch these as soon as I get home.”

“Whatever, as long as we don’t have to sit through your disgusted reaction.”

Clapton looks at him, slightly offended. “They can’t be that bad! I seriously never get scared. Have you seen Cinderhella? I didn’t bat an eye.”

Josh changes the subject. “Any other ideas? Ooh, what about Toy Story 3!”

Everyone stares at him, bewildered.

“What? That movie’s scary.”

“You mean the one with the big ass purple fucking bear? That one?” Derek asks, a laugh falling out with the question.

Billy and Mike practically fall over cracking up at his genuine fear of the children’s movie.

Josh frowns as he whines, “Yeah… Lotzo.”

“You’re fucking scared of Lotzo?” Billy can barely breathe between his laughing.

“That’s not fair! The scene where they’re falling toward that big fire pit thing is terrifying!”

Clapton snickers at him. “Dude, you’re such a dumbass.” Derek fist-bumps him in agreement.

“And you guys are all bullies. Peeta, can’t you back me up?”

Peeta just stares at him, wide-eyed. “I’ve never seen it. It sounds scary.”

Josh whines at him. “It is!”

Peeta shrugs as everyone else continues to laugh at him.

“Alright, then someone else recommend something.”

Derek smiles. “How about-”

Billy cuts him off. “Derek, shut the fuck up.”

“How about we just watch some stupid 80’s slasher?”

“Like what?”

Clapton drums on his legs, clearly bored with the lengthy decision process. “I don’t know, Child’s Play.”

Peeta looks at him. “What’s that about?”

Clapton turns to him, giving him a puzzled look. “Have you never seen a movie? Like ever?”

Peeta shrugs nonchalantly and Clapton turns back to the TV. “Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Dreams are important. Shouldn’t be mocked.”

Clapton rolls his eyes. “Friday the 13th?”

Derek shakes his head. “That one’s just boring. Absolutely not.”

“… and why is it boring?”

“Because I said so.”

Josh continues to scroll through a page of endless horror movies. “What’s this one?” He clicks on one titled Tragedy Girls and watches the trailer.

“Hey, dude, that guy totally looks like you.” Billy points at a man on the TV screen, then at Josh.

“He does no- actually he kinda does.”

There’s a moment of silence. “He kinda looks like you, too.”

“You think so?”

“Wait, he looks just like Derek, too!”

“Yeah, like a clearance version.”

Josh finds the coincidence too weird and clicks off of the movie. He continues scrolling.

“Is that Vantage Point? Why is that in the horror section?”

Derek’s eyes go wide. “It uh… sounds pretty scary to me.”

“Wait, is that the one where the president gets assassinated?” Josh looks back at Mike curiously.

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure it’s action, not hor-”

Derek cuts him off. “We’re not watching it.”

Mike senses the sudden discomfort and changes the subject. “Blair Witch Project?”

Everyone unanimously groans in agreement.

“I give up. You guys pick.”

“Wait, I got one!”

Everyone looks at Peeta. “It’s called La La Land.”

Josh furrows his brows at him. “That’s not a horror movie, that’s just a sad romcom.”

“But they lose each other in the end. I mean, could you imagine? I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”

Billy and Clapton give him a sad look. “It doesn’t count as a horror movie.”

“Man, you’re so fuckin’ lame.”

“Detention?”

“No.”

“Five Nights at Freddy’s?”

“Nope.”

“For the love of god… Scream?”

Everyone exchanges glances before they all shrug.

“Alright, we’re watching Scream then.”

—————————————————————————

A few minutes into the movie and Mike speaks up. “Hey, that guy kinda looks familiar.”

“Who? Stu Macher?”

“Yeah, I can’t really place why, though.”

“Maybe Matthew Lillard just has one of those faces, y’know?”

“Maybe…”

Josh lights up suddenly. “We knew a guy named Stu a little while back, he was seriously crazy.”

“Who the fuck is we?”

“Oh! Me, Wolf, and Tiger. Tiger actually fell in love with Stu for a little whi-”

“Tiger?”

“Yeah. Tiger.”

Billy looks at Derek, who rolls his eyes before they both decide to drop it.

“Yeah, Stu was crazy though.”

“Well, Stu Macher is pretty crazy too, right?”

“Hey! Don’t spoil it! Peeta’s never seen this movie before.”

“It’s an obvious twist. He’ll be fine.”

“I don’t even know what’s going on so far.” Peeta looks at the TV, clearly confused by the plot.

“I think all guys named Stu must be at least a little insane.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Josh lays back on the floor in front of the TV.

—————————————————————————

A few more minutes pass. Billy stirs, readjusting himself on the couch.

A few more minutes. Billy once again readjusts.

Finally, “Alright, I’m fuckin’ bored. Let’s do shots.”

Derek fist bumps him. “Oh, hell yeah. I’m in.”

“Um, what about the two children?”

“Children?” Peeta furrows his brows at Mike.

Clapton sits up, gaping at Josh with an offended look on his face. “I’m 19!”

“Yeah, so am I.”

“You guys are the youngest. You’re going to be kids to us no matter what.”

“Fireball good with everyone?”

“Works for me.

“I got work tonight… but sure.”

Josh looks up. “Hey, how are you guys all getting home? I don’t want anyone driving under the influence.”

“It’s one shot dude.”

Derek smiles. “It’ll turn into seven. I’ll call my driver.”

“This is so unfair.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “It’s nothing personal, kid. You can drink all you fuckin’ want in a few years. Be patient.”

“Oh, like none of you drank before you turned 21.”

Billy shakes his head, standing up to make his way to the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later with a small tray and 6 shot glasses filled with amber-colored liquid, plus a few beers.

Clapton lights up when he gets handed one. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Peeta cringes but reluctantly takes it.

Derek, Josh, and Mike take theirs before Billy grabs the last one and they all huddle around the coffee table.

“On three, alright?”

Everyone nods. “Three… t-”

“One, bottoms up.” Derek throws his back, not even flinching.

Everyone else takes theirs, and Mike and Josh wince with the strength in the taste of the liquor. “How can you do that without even making a face?”

Derek chuckles. “Are we just fucking meeting for the first time, Mike?”

Billy watches Clapton’s face as he realizes that his shot was actually apple juice. Peeta lights up, smiling with excitement. “Dude!”

“Is that juice? We only got this stuff in the Capitol. Can I have another?”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

Billy ignores Clapton and grabs the bottle of apple juice from the kitchen.

Peet’s takes it, sort of confused. “… where’s the… cup?”

Billy waves him off, twisting the cap off of a beer. “Knock yourself out, kid.”

Peeta smiles and throws the cap off of the bottle, chugging it eagerly. Everyone else takes their reserved spots again and continue watching the movie.

Derek squints at the screen. “’m gonna get one of those masks after this.”

Josh gives him a confused look. “…Why?”

“You planning on going on a murder spree? I can add some names to your list.”

Derek looks at Billy. “No, I’m just imagining, like, bringing someone to my room while I’m wearing all black and one of those and then sneaking up behind them and ripping-”

“Dude!”

Derek pauses. “Don’t fuckin’ interrupt me, that was a good idea.”

“There are two kids sitting next to you.”

“I’m 19! Stop calling me a kid!”

Peeta shrugs. “Y’know what? I actually don’t mind. It would be nice to be a kid again.”

“They’re not kids. They know what sex is.”

Clapton sinks into the ground slightly. “Yeah, obviously I know what it is.”

“Katniss and I are taking it slow.”

Derek looks at Mike. “See?”

“It doesn’t matter. No one wants to hear about your weird sexual fantasies.”

“I didn’t think it was weird. That sounds hot.”

Derek looks at him excitedly. “Right?”

Billy nods, taking a sip of his beer. “For sure.”

“Alright, you two talk about that stuff later. The rest of us don’t want to hear about any of that.”

“I don’t mind. I need all the tips I can get.”

Clapton furrows his eyebrows at Peeta. “I don’t think Katniss would want you to seduce her in a horror movie mask.”

“Why not?”

“Because that isn’t a normal sexual interaction. Derek is just… uh… very experienced.”

“Damn right I am.”

“Well… what is a normal sexual interaction?”

Derek smiles, sitting up and crossing his snakeskin boots in Peeta’s lap. “I’ve got so much to teach you. Alright, first, be aggressive. Girls like that. You want to alway-”

“How about we just watch the movie?”

Derek scoffs, rolling his eyes and melting back down against the couch. “How about we take another shot?”

—————————————————————————

They eventually finish the movie, but Derek and Billy are fairly intoxicated by the end of it. Derek calls a car to drive them all home.

Billy tends to forget about personal space when he’s drunk. “Thanks for having me, buddy,” he practically yells as he leans against Josh, his mouth brushing his ear.

Josh pats him on the back, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah… no problem, man.”

“See- mph. See you tomorrow, Joosh.” Derek stumbles slightly as he walks out of the house.

“What? To- tomorrow?”

Derek nods, not turning back as he walks down the driveway. “Yeah, we’ll be back tomorrow.” He gets into the dark limousine, Billy following behind him.

Peeta and Clapton stand in the doorway, Mike still putting on his boots.

“We get to ride in a limo?” Clapton grins.

“Actually, I’ll uh… I’ll call you guys an uber. There’s no way in hell that they aren’t about to go to a bar.”

“Goddamn it,” Mike appears behind them, watching as Derek’s head hangs out the window like a dog as the car drives off.

“Tomorrow, Futturman!”

Josh signs. “Goddamn it is right.”

—————————————————————————

thanks for reading! this was so stupid but it’s just fun to create the jhutchverse so let me self indulge please :)

(this is a late update but i just remembered @xcherryerim wanted to be tagged in jhutchverse stuff, here you go monica, ly <3)

also i know this is barely about the actual movie and more about the banter but that’s the fun part so i don’t care 💀 sorry if you wanted to hear me talk about scream (i’ve actually never seen it but i know the general plot don’t kill me)

have a good day babes <3

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