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laurrrelise · 2 days

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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

—————————————————————————

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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roarsaurus · 2 days

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his stupid sock has a fucking hole in it

#mike schmidt #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #jhutch

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futureman · 3 days

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but also ??

#he can do it all 🥰#okay but i literally have no idea what movie this is from #is this the pablo escobar one??#josh hutcherson #jhutch #he's just really cute and i am human!

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hearts4-jhutch · 24 hours

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literally derek danforth if he was just a normal fucking guy

and if he wasn’t fucked up and worked as a normal functioning man in society

#josh hutcherson #derek danforth

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joshfutturman · 21 hours

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'they'd find us in a week, ( lay here for years or for hours )'

oneshot - mike struggles to let you get close, but when your hands brush against his hair, he realises that he may not be able to keep you at arms length forever (1.7k words) pairing - mike schmidt (five nights at freddy's) & gn!reader tags - ok basically this whole thing was 'mike gets sleepy when you play with his hair because my headcanon is that his mom used to do it when he was younger', pre-established friendship verging on relationship, lingering feelings, pure fluff

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you knew mike wasn’t really the super affectionate type, or at least. . . not with you, yet. each week you’d come over, he’d inch a little closer towards you on the sofa. every time, you felt your heart rate pick up. he felt so close yet so far.

this night, he was the closest he’d ever been. your eyes drift over to the armchair where he used to sit himself when you first visited, and then to him, inches from you now on the sofa. you often treated the situation like mike was an animal, your hand outstretched waiting patiently for him to sniff, get used to your scent maybe. one wrong move and he’d scamper away. you operated on his time, at his pace.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

his leg touches yours and you feel your face heat up at the innocent touch. you dare not glance towards him, relax, you think to yourself. mike probably thought nothing of it. but when you do glance despite your best efforts, you notice the red on his cheeks too.

you try to suppress a smile.

the room was lit with only small flickers from the television in his living room, some mindless action film playing. it was his suggestion, and you let him, loving the way his face lit up when he tried to explain the plot to you in a sheepish manner. his dad used to watch it with him, he said. it felt special that he wanted to share this with you, even if it wasn’t the best movie in the world, it would turn out to be one of your favourites anyway.

you try to focus, settling back into the sofa as you rest your elbow back onto the base of the sofa behind you, supporting your head as your cheek rests against your palm. your eyes drift to mike, watching him as he eyes the television with deep interest. he’s got that sleepy look he usually has and your eyes begin to study his face a little closer now that you’ve got the opportunity.

the dark bags under his eyes hadn’t gotten any better, in fact, they looked a little worse. but that leads you onto his freckles, one. . . two. . . three. . . four. . . more than you could count, dotted across his nose and cheeks. they were your favourite of his features, little constellations you wanted to connect, his face infinitely more interesting than any of the old stars in the night sky.

his stubble was growing a little long, longer than you’d seen it before - maybe tomorrow was his usual shaving day. you wouldn’t tell him, but you thought he suited it at this length. a part of you wonders what it would feel like against your own cheek, but you quickly swat that thought from your mind.

but god, his eyelashes. they were long, dark and delicate. with each blink, you wonder if mike knew how truly beautiful he actually was. he was handsome sure, but he was also incredibly beautiful. not just in looks either, he was beautiful in the way that he’d save you an extra donut - your favourite kind, he’d swerve in the road to avoid birds, he’d send you pictures of things that reminded him of you with no caption or explanation.

you loosen up, lifting your face from your hand. your fingers twitch, itching to reach out and touch his hair. that would be weird, right? but he’s so close. his head is almost resting on your shoulder. should you?

before you have a chance to stop yourself, your fingers briefly brush through a curl on his head and immediately he flinches back.

fuck. you’ve lost him. he’s scampered away.

mike looks at you with what you think to be an angered expression. his brows knit together, leaning away from you as his eyes glance from your hand to you.

“i’m. . . i’m sorry i-“ you begin to say in defence, feeling embarrassed.

mike continues to eye you cautiously. how could he tell you the kinds of feelings that stirred for him?

suddenly he’s just a boy again. he’s had another nightmare. his mom is beside him in his cramped single bed with patterned dinosaur sheets, her hand on his soft curls at the base of his head. her touch is delicate, like he’s delicate. fingers dancing through curls, mike’s eyelids flutter closed as she hums a familiar, comforting tune.

no one’s touched his hair since then. no one.

well, no one except you. right now.

he’s not sure whether to be angry or to be upset. to snap at you or to apologise for his own reaction. he can feel the sadness bubbling in his stomach, spreading up to his chest. he hadn’t thought about this in so long, convinced he’d never be comforted in that way ever again - or maybe it was that he’d never let himself be comforted like that ever again. yet here he was, craving it.

at this point, you’re convinced it’s over. he’s going to ask you to leave. you crossed a line. there was nothing here between you and him. you wanted to apologise again, but what was the use?

“did you just touch my hair?” he finally spoke up, voice softer than you expected it to be.

you swallow hard, “yeah, sorry, i just- i dunno. . .” your words fall away from you again.

mike visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening up. “it’s okay,” he glances at your hand once more, then back to you as if he’s trying to decide something, “you can. . . if you want to.”

eyes widening, you simply stare back at him, what? you’re stunned into silence for a few moments. you’ve never heard him so soft, almost vulnerable. his gaze continues to flicker to you then away, settling back on the television and returning to the position he was in before with his head close to your shoulder. there’s a hint of red on his cheeks. you can tell he’s. . . scared.

your hand inches closer again, fingertips grazing across his dark, soft curls. immediately you see him take a deep breath through his nose, you can’t figure out what he’s feeling. secretly, he’s feeling relief.

each touch is ghost-like, hardly making contact as you switch between examining his reaction and then back to his hair. once it’s been a minute and you both relax into the interaction, you sink your hands in a little deeper as his hair glides between your fingers with ease. you flinch a little as your fingers reach scalp, splaying your fingers across his skin.

his eyes flutter closed, head slumping forward a little. you smile, drifting your nails across his head gently until you find a curl between your pointer and index finger. you twist it around, letting your fingers comb through it.

mike feels goosebumps pepper up along the back of his neck, soft tingling raining delicately along his scalp. he focuses on the soft, tender sensation of your fingers. suddenly he realises that for once, his mind is quiet. it’s not running ahead, it’s not jumping over hurdles he’d placed for himself, it’s not reliving anything, he’s. . . simply existing here, in this moment, with you.

and he’s letting you. mike isn’t shying away from the touch, instinctively rejecting any form of care. instead, he’s relishing it. his head rests against your shoulder in a final act of defeat, breathing softening to a slow pace.

if it wasn’t so goddamn relaxing, he’d probably allow himself to feel emotional. it had been so long since anyone had cared for him like this, taken the time, or even tried. his walls had grown so high that he was convinced no one would ever dare try to climb them, and if they did he’d snipe them down with a single, devastating shot.

but you? you kept climbing, taking those shots like a champ and continuing to climb anyway. slowly, but surely. and it was almost as though mike never saw you coming. like you were over that wall in a flash - waiting patiently for him to beckon you down to the other side.

and here he was as you approached.

mike’s hand finds your leg in his sleepy haze and gently, sheepishly, lets his fingertips trail across the fabric there. like he’s trying to return the favour.

this simply makes you smile.

your fingers continue to trace small shapes in his hair, a heart, a circle, a square. . . and then all your fingers at once combing through his thick curls. you can’t help but watch the way his head sinks deeper and deeper against your shoulder as he gives in to sensation.

for the first time in forever, he feels sleep beckoning him without the use of pills or any other sleep aids. just you, your simple touch and your body heat accompanying him. it’s incredibly adorable to you, watching him settle underneath your touch. his touch on your leg falters, slowing down to a halt after a short while.

gingerly, your hand snakes to the front of his scalp, running through the curls covering his forehead and exposing the skin there as if to take a peek at his face. your eyes widen and you smile as you see his eyes gently closed, mouth half open. was he. . . sleeping? he’d fallen asleep against you, your fingers still in his hair. and you wouldn’t dare stop. you’d do this forever if time and the world allowed.

it was the most peaceful you’d ever seen him, evoking deep feelings of protectiveness. mike deserved better than what this life gave him, or rather, took from him. you’d do anything to make him feel at peace, even for a little while. what little you could offer to ease the burden, you’d give.

you rest your cheek down against the top of his head, letting your own eyes close - your hands now on the back of his head, playing with the curls that settle there naturally. trying your best, you keep up the soft touches of your fingertips as long as you’re able to before sleep inevitably comes for you too. it comes in waves, your head growing heavier against mike’s as he breathes out light snores.

before long, slumber sweeps you away. both of you laying contently against the other in a sleepy bundle.

tomorrow, you’d both have to face the world, but for now? this moment was yours. and in sleep, mike would pray you’d be there when he awoke.

little did he know, you’d never want to leave his side ever again.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. ‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @laurrrelise @sun-spider13 @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson ‧₊˚ ily!! .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

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bussyholeicedlikeadonut · 2 days

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clapton getting into a fight and he shows up at ur door with a bloody nose with blood all over him but he acts like nothing is wrong to not worry you and he giggles when u clean him up and hes justbsuch a mess omg...

#im so gay for him #clapton davis #clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x male reader #jhutch #josh hutcherson #nosebleed #im attracted to bloody noses im sorry

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thatdelusionalnerd · 2 days

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Sorry but this is like the weirdest combination I’ve ever seen and idk if I wanna know the context?

#starkid #Nerdy prudes must die #npmd #josh hutcherson #joe locke #ryan bergara #cor speaks

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nofuckingcherries · 21 hours

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Wait why he kinda….

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #am i weird gang #be honest

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sleepyhutcherson · 18 hours

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miren a mi novio 🫶

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson fluff #fnaf movie #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst #josh hutcherson smut

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stop-talking · 1 day

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Older; not Wiser (pt. 1)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

2.5k words

Tags: 18+, age gap, reader is 20, no use of y/n, smoking, shotgunning, brat tamer Derek, bratty reader, filthy shit, porn that's mostly plot, grinding, clit stimulation, Derek has dirty thoughts, (duh), idk just read it this is mostly buildup to smut

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Derek stumbles into his private study tired, high, and eager to take a break from the party raging in the rest of his mansion. He often retires to this room, as no one is allowed here but himself. Not even the maids.

So why is there a pretty young woman lounging in his recliner?

No, not lounging... you look far too tense for that. In fact, you don't even seem to notice his presence at all until he's towering over you.

"I believe this is my seat, sweetheart." He says, trying to keep his voice firm and suppress a smirk as he takes a hit of his blunt.

You scramble up from the chair immediately, squeaking out a quiet apology.

Ah, so you know who he is. AND you listen. That's good.

Derek chuckles to himself as he plops down in the plush lounge chair, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips.

You apparently don't know what to do yourself after the little evection, simply staring at your feet and tugging on the hem of your dangerously tiny dress.

Fuck, you look good.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that. We can share." Derek pats the armrest of his chair, giving you what he hopes in an inviting smile.

After a few seconds of simply blinking at him in shock, you shyly make your way over and take a seat on the armrest. Your arm hooks around the top of the chair as you get comfortable, but you're careful not to touch him.

Derek can't help but smirk slightly at your timid nature. Is he really that scary? Whatever. He'll take it as a compliment.

"So, does she speak?" He asks after another slow hit of his joint. You look so pretty through the dim smoky haze.

"Not much." You admit, fixing your gaze on your lap in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

Derek looks at your lap too, but quickly has to turn his attention elsewhere. Fuck. That dress really is too short.

"Something tells me you're sober." He teases, waving his blunt in front of you.

That earns him a nod, so he pushes further.

"Want me to fix that, sweet girl? Looks like you need to relax a little."

You pause for a moment, then reach for his blunt. He pulls it away from you with a sharp tsk.

"Not like that. Open up for me, doll."

Your eyes widen with surprise as he brings a hand up to cup your face. He takes a long pull from his joint, enjoying the pretty little look you give him.

When he gently tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, you obediently open your mouth, leaning down towards him.

His lips meet yours, and he exhales a lungful of hot smoke, depositing it directly into your own mouth. You eagerly take everything he gives you, melting into his touch. He can't help but want to give you more.

"Derek..." You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare down at him with a blissed-out look. Oh, that definitely relaxed you.

"Yes, doll?" He has to fight to suppress a smirk as he slowly tucks an arm around your lower back. In a failing attempt to be respectful, he lets his hand rest on your outer thigh, instead of shoving it right between your legs like he truly wants.

"Can you do that again?" You ask sweetly, leaning in a little closer now.

How could he ever say no to you?

"Only if you answer something for me, sweetheart." He practically purrs, gently caressing your cheek with the hand that's still holding the blunt. He's careful not to burn you, as the last thing he'd want to do is mark up that pretty face of yours.

Your neck, though...? No, he shouldn't go there. Not yet.

You hum a response, leaning into the touch and closing your eyes. One of your legs slips down from the armrest, falling on his lap instead.

Whether it's intentionally seductive or simply a sign you're growing more comfortable with him, Derek can't tell. He welcomes the touch either way, tugging you just a little closer with the arm he has around you.

"How'd a pretty girl like you end up all alone at a party, hm? Surely someone out there is missing you."

There. A not-so-subtle question. Is the little trespasser single? Not that it really matters. He'll have you either way.

"Oh, uh... I dunno... I was just feeling overwhelmed, and... well, I've been to parties before, just..."

After a minute of stumbling over your words, Derek waves a hand, cutting you off and putting you out of your misery.

"Just not a Danforth party?" He finishes for you, chuckling.

You flush a bit and nod, clearly embarrassed. Hm. You hadn't exactly answered his question, but, well... If you are in a relationship, it clearly isn't that serious. Not with how you're halfway to sitting on his lap.

"C'mere, sweetheart. You need to relax. It's overwhelming out there, huh?" He speaks softly, pulling you ever-so-slightly closer and giving your thigh a light pat.

Your arms slips around his shoulders in return, and he takes one final pull from his rapidly shrinking blunt in an attempt to hide his smugness. God, you're so damn eager. It's endearing.

After dropping the remnants of his joint in a nearby ashtray, he pulls you down to meet his lips again. You graciously accept his breath, and Derek swears he hears a moan spill from your pretty mouth.

"Feel better?" He asks, cradling your face in his hand.

You stare down at him with pure admiration, inching even closer as your eyes glaze over. The weed is clearly starting to take effect.

"What? You wanna take a seat, sweet girl?" Derek pats his lap, and apparently, that's all the invitation you need.

Before he knows it, you're situated sideways across his legs, with your arm still hooked around his neck.

He lets out a breathy laugh and tucks both his arms around you in return, one around your lower back and one just behind your knees.

Now that you're all up close and personal, he finally gets a good look at you. Fuck, you look young. His heart starts to race for a moment, irrationally fearing the worst. He knows there's a strict 18+ rule for all of his little parties, but still... couldn't hurt to check.

"Just how old are you, doll?"

"Twenty. Why?" You blink at him curiously, making yourself comfortable against his chest.

Shit. Okay. Twenty. That's not... too bad, right? His brow furrows, and he grips your thigh a little tighter as he pulls you close.

You must pick up on his hesitation, because you cup his cheek with your free hand and gently turn his head to look at you.

"Why? How old are you?"

"Take a guess, sweetheart."

Your faces scrunches adorably as you study him, and Derek has to hold in a laugh.

"Like... twenty-five?"

"Hm. You must be higher than I thought." He finally allows himself a small chuckle, taking your hand from his face and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before lacing your fingers with his.

"That or you're just trying to flatter me."

You flush a bit at the kiss, but don't seem too phased otherwise, giggling softly and avoiding his gaze.

"How old are you, then?"

"I'm twenty-eight, sweetheart. You're practically a baby." Derek lets out an amused huff, squeezing your hand a little tighter as he slumps back in the recliner.

If you're surprised by that realization, you don't let it show. Instead, your free hand finds its way into his hair, lightly tugging at a handful of his curls.

"Yeah? And you practically have one foot in the grave, old man."

Derek should be mad at that. Both at the sudden intimate touch, and your disrespectful words. But looking into your eyes, seeing you smile at him like that? God, it just melts him.

Of course, he isn't quite ready to let you get away with that little quip either, so he gives your exposed thigh a playful smack.

"Play nice, little girl." He growls, returning your sass.

That just gets another giggle out of you. He marvels at how much you've changed from the shy girl he met just minutes ago. Hm. Must be the weed.

"You haven't smoked before, have you?" He muses, voicing his observation. He's sure of it. That light in your eyes. It has to be your first high.

"I mean... not really." You stare down at him with a smile, mindlessly twirling a lock of his hair around your finger.

Alright, that's enough. At this rate, you're gonna make him soft for you.

"Okay, sweetheart. I'm gonna call you a ride home." He huffs in amusement, shifting and reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"What? Why?" You frantically tense your grasp on his hair, giving him a look of genuine hurt.

Ow. Derek grunts, grabbing your hand and gently prying it from his curls.

"I'm not letting you go back out into that party like this, pretty girl. Look at you. Practically naked, and higher than a kite." He playfully tsks at you, running a hand over your exposed thighs for emphasis.

Fuck, you really are one wardrobe malfunction away from exposing yourself. Part of him is tempted to peel back the fabric of your tight little dress and try to catch a glimpse of your panties... if you're even wearing any. He wouldn't be surprised if you'd decided to forgo them.

"Who says I want to go back out into the party?" You start inching up his lap, getting dangerously close to his crotch.

He knows he should probably push you off, call you a ride, and send you home. Maybe give you his phone number, if he's feeling bold. But he doesn't want you to leave. Not when you're so damn fun.

"Woah, woah. Careful, little girl." He gently nudges you back down to his legs, desperately trying to keep you off his awakening dick. It stirs slightly in his pants from the movement, and he tries to discreetly adjust himself with a hand.

"I want to stay here with you." You whisper, giving him a pleading look as you reach to cup his cheek once more.

"No." He says firmly, though his cock is screaming at him to say yes.

"You're too far gone for this, sweetheart. I shouldn't have given you that second puff."

Derek reaches for his phone once more, determined to call you a ride and get you home safely.

Before he can even unlock the damn thing, you snatch it from him, dropping it onto the floor and out of reach. He tries to protest, but his angry growl quickly turns into a moan as you position yourself over his straining cock.

"I. Want. To. Stay."

Derek's nails dig into your thigh in retaliation, and he grits his teeth in a failing attempt to bite back a groan.

"You don't know what you're asking for." He growls, roughly grabbing your jaw and pulling you in closer.

"Then show me."

He does.

Derek kisses you with as much force as he can muster, biting your bottom lip and tugging it down to allow his tongue access to your mouth. He takes over the kiss, trying to swallow you whole.

After a few minutes of oral abuse, you pull away, dazed and panting.

"Too much for you, sweetheart?" He teases, unable to fight back a chuckle.

"No," you pant, "not nearly enough." With that, you reach a hand down and grope at his clothed cock, eyes trained on his own.

Fuck.

Your intentions are now explicitly clear, and Derek can feel his mind and body pulled in two different directions. Logically, he knows this is probably wrong. But his dick doesn't care about logic, and his brain is quick to agree.

He lets out a low growl as you start palming him through his clothes, and finally decides to do something about it. Two can play at that game.

"Oh, you're trouble. Aren't you, little girl?" One hand roughly squeezes your thigh, and the other slips between them, working his way up.

"Hm-hm." You just hum in agreement, melting against his chest and nosing into his hair.

"Yeah? This what you want?" He asks, finally reaching your panties. Fuck, even through the fabric, he can tell you're absolutely soaked.

His thumb traces circles around your clit through your underwear, and the needy little sounds you make only encourage him further.

Derek can't help but think this is a perfect way to spend the evening. He'll sit here and help your rub one out till you cum in those pretty panties, then hold you till you fall asleep on his lap. It'll be a damn good nap, too, considering he'd given you some of his own joint earlier. Good shit.

And then after, well, he'd either call you a cab or have someone fix up a room for you. He wasn't going to let anything happen to his new toy.

"Want more."

Derek is pulled out of his contemplation as you squeeze his cock again, more urgently this time. He hisses a response, trying to stay firm.

"You'll take what I offer, doll." He pulls his hand from between your legs, and lightly smacks your thigh as a warning.

This doesn't seem to go over well with you, as you begin to pout and backtalk him.

"What, scared? Does this old thing even work anymore?" You taunt him with another tantalizing grind of your palm against his dick.

Okay, that's enough of that.

"You wanna test it out, sweetheart?" He growls, harshly grabbing your wrist to put a stop to your little tease game.

"Maybe I do." You giggle, blinking down at him with an false innocence that he might have fell for, had he not just felt how soaked your pussy is.

Christ. You really are trouble. Derek soon finds his hands on your hips, guiding you to straddle his lap. Maybe he could let you ride one out on his thigh. That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Or maybe he'd have to make yet another change to his plans. You start to slide up his lap, and in the blink of an eye, you're pressed right up against his straining cock.

"Look, little girl." He growls at you through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your hips in an attempt to ground himself.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Good. I'm not scared."

Derek can feel every gentlemanly urge leaving his body at your words. Well, he had tried the respectful route. His resolve in the face of your teasing should be applauded, truly.

You start to desperately grind against him, and finally, he snaps. You've made it clear what you want from him, and he can't hold back from giving it to you any longer.

He's going to to fuck you absolutely dumb.

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Author's note: I'M SORRY TO LEAVE THIS OFF ON A CLIFFHANGER but I am currently too sleepy to write!! But I want y'all to have SOMETHING, so here's a little treat!!

Part two will 100% be out tomorrow, and it will (probably) be the only additional chapter. This was just supposed to be some quick smut, not a whole series.

(It'll also be from the reader's perspective, this whole scene just felt right in Derek's.)

LOVE YOU GUYS!! HOPE I DIDNT MISS ANYTHING TOO GLARINGLY BAD BECAUSE THIS IS BARELY EDITIED AND IM SLEEP DEPRIVED !!!

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #the beekeeper #derek danforth x reader #jhutch1992 #derek danforth x you #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x y/n

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