Josh Hutcherson X Reader - Blog Posts

I will bark for this man

#joshfutturman

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 3)

Afab!reader x Mike Schmidt 

pt 1 pt 2

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, slow burn, enemies to friends(?) Slight angst, mentions of custody/family issues, fluff, no use of y/n

A/N: I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for taking almost a year to write this. I was originally going to leave it unfinished, but it didn’t feel fair, plus I've been itching to write something. Sorry this is short, I felt like you guys deserved some clarity at least. Also, I’ve been practicing writing these past few months, so hopefully the quality has increased!

(I did change the tense, so I'm sorry for the difference from the prior parts.)

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Mike was never the type to lie. Ever. He wasn’t perfect all 6 years, but no one is. But, just hours ago he drunkenly admitted he lied to you for years. 

The lie ran through your head like poison, infecting your blood, and making it impossible to think. 

He was drunk. He could barely make it down the hall without your help. But, it was such an odd confession, and he said it with such conviction you had no choice but to believe it was the truth.  You had always believed drunken words were sober thoughts. 

Either way, those 5 little words caused you to call out sick to work the next day. How could you work? How could you walk through the fluorescent-lit halls and act like your world wasn’t torn apart just 12 hours before?

Clapton was still blowing up your phone with texts filled with worry and frustration. You felt bad, sure, but you just couldn’t deal with him.

You flipped open your phone, scrolling through the long slew of messages. 

“Why aren’t you answering me? Did I do smth?”

“U good?”

“Yea. I haven’t been feeling good recently, sry.”

It wasn’t just an excuse; you genuinely felt like shit. A heavy pit settled in your stomach, and a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The thought of confronting Mike loomed over you like a dark cloud. You knew you needed to talk, but the mere thought filled you with dread, tightening your chest and making it hard for you to breathe.

After long, restless hours in bed, the pain in your heart became unbearable, a heavy burden weighing you down. With a deep breath, you finally pushed the sheets aside and got up. The silence of the hall closed in around you as you approached Mike’s door. You hesitated briefly before knocking softly, the sound cutting through the stillness.

With every silent second, your heart pounded louder in your chest, and your palms grew slick with sweat. A chilling wave swept down your spine, tightening the grip of anxiety. The hairs on your arms prickled as the locks clicked and echoed in the silence. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the irrational fear that gripped you.

The door creaked open, and there stood Mike, silhouetted by the dim light behind him. You took a long look at him, your eyes tracing the dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing nothing but basketball shorts. His soft brown curls were a tangled mess, and his skin had an unusual greenish hue. With his eyebrows furrowed together in pain, you could tell that he was suffering from an awful hangover.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You asked, unable to shake the feeling that he might have forgotten the words he said that carried so much meaning. 

Mike sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?” he asked, regret evident in his voice. You chuckled softly, silently agreeing with him.

“It’s… Fine.”

“But, it’s not.” He said, his voice shaky, “You’re so… Good to me. You always have been.” You snapped your eyes up and looked into his. 

“I just… I just don’t understand why you’ve been this way, Mike.”

“I- God, things have just been a mess with Abbs and my Aunt.” 

“Mike…”

“I know. I know, it’s no excuse. I just... You were always my rock. You were the only one who could calm me down, who could help me work through my bullshit.” 

The hatred that simmered deep in your soul slowly melted out of your body the more he talked. The tension in your shoulders deflated, and a sad smile crawled across your face.

“Then why’d you leave me?”

Mike winced, your words stabbing through his beating heart. Before he could speak, you hesitantly brought up the prior night.

“You… You said something last night. That- There wasn’t another girl?”

His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. The horror in his eyes made it apparent that neither of you were ready to have this conversation.

“I think it’s best if you come in.” 

Minutes later, you found yourself situated on his couch, a mug of tea warming your shaking hands. Mike sat down next to you, now covered up with a black sweatshirt.

“Do… Do you remember the first custody battle? When they called you to testify and come to court for days.” He enunciated days like you didn’t remember the grueling weeks you two fought through together. Despite that, you nodded slowly.

“You had to take a gap year. You were so close to getting your teaching degree. It put you behind.”

“I remember.” 

“Well… Um.” He stuttered through his words, almost like it was painful to recount the past. “That week I left... It happened again. Jane tried to get custody. I just.. Couldn't put you through that again. You were on track to getting your dream job, for god's sake. So, I left.”

Your entire body froze as the world around you stopped spinning. Dizziness clouded your head, and your vision became blurry. It didn’t make sense—nothing he said made any sense to you. For two years, you had believed what he told you. You believed that heartless text he sent. You accepted every word.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“It wasn’t fair to drag you into my bullshit. I wanted to protect you and protect Abby. I thought the best way was to get you away from me. I was like a black hole. I sucked the life out of you.” 

“Mike- That’s not true!”

“It is, though! I mean look at you! You have everything. You have your dream career, your dream apartment. Your life became better when I left.”

“Because I had to! That year, I lost everything! I lost my whole world, Mike! I loved you! Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped! I would’ve done anything for you!”

“That’s exactly why I left!” You flinched back, your eyebrows furrowed together. “I just couldn’t watch you interrupt your life for me. Interrupt your dreams. I couldn’t even protect my own sister. How could I sit there and ruin your life, too?”

You wanted to push him, yell at him, but you could tell he was in pain. You could tell guilt was eating him alive, you could tell he was aching. You didn’t want him to feel worse for his actions. But you needed him to know how you felt. You needed him to know how the hole in your heart he left almost consumed you.

“Mike… I spent almost 3 years hating you. Hating myself. I hated myself because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. You should’ve told me.”

“Good enough? You were too good for me! Hell, you still are. I treated you like shit. I ruined your life! And you still care for me. You still helped me in my lowest moments. You’re beautiful and sweet, and god, you’re just.. An angel. I never deserved you.” He could barely look you in the eyes.

Before your brain could process, and beg you to stop, your hand reached up to cup his jaw. Your thumb drew circles on his skin. His eyes flicked up to yours and his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“That never stopped me from loving you.” His eyes shone in the apartment lights, illuminating the flicks of gold. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You wanted to stare at him for hours. You wanted to study each crease and wrinkle of his face. You wanted so desperately to count each of his freckles. “Was there really no one else?”

“God, no. There was only ever you.” 

You sighed, the weight of the past slowly lifting off of you. You couldn’t fully trust him, and you knew you could never go back to before. But your heart still screamed for him. It still longed for him. “I wish you didn’t lie to me.”

“Me too.”

Your thumb continued to stroke his soft skin. It was dangerous to be so close. You and Mike knew it. But, it felt right. It felt natural. It felt like two lost puzzle pieces were finally fitting together.

A text notification pinged throughout the room, echoing in the silence. You quickly pulled away and cleared your throat. Mike's eye twitched as he grabbed his phone off the counter. The color in his face drained quickly.

“Shit- It’s Jane.” 

You sighed and looked away from him. “Okay. I should… Go, anyway.”

“Hold on- I’ll walk you out.” He stood up, speed walking to his front door. Before you stepped out, you quickly turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed your chest against him, breathing in his cologne. 

He hesitated slightly, worried you would turn to dust if he dared to touch you. After a heartbeat, he gave in. You stood in his doorway, his face tucked into your neck, yours pressed against his chest. His heart beat against his ribs, matching the flutter of yours.

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the apartment hall caused you to tear away from Mike's embrace. 

Clapton stood in the hall, a shopping bag in his hand.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

The room was filled with awkward silence, unspoken apologies, and a tension you couldn’t cut with a chainsaw. Clapton sat on your couch, paralleling your earlier conversation with Mike. He sat there, his leg bouncing up and down quickly.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Clapton quickly cut you off. “I know.”

Bewildered, your eyebrows raised and wrinkles appeared on your forehead. “You- What? Know what?” “That you,” He swallowed. “Used me. I ran into Mike at 7-Eleven yesterday. He told me he moved in next door.”

Your eyes were wide, and guilt began gnawing at your stomach. “Clapton- I- I’m so sorry…”

His eyes were soft, but his lips were downturned. “I get it. I’ve- had my moments like that. Trying to get back at an ex…”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, biting down on the plush skin. “You've sent glitter bombs over to someone's house and fucked someone so loud you dented your wall?” Clapton’s eyes widened and he chuckled.

“Well- I- That’s original.” Now it was your turn to laugh, though the sound felt hollow and insincere. He was right. You acted like a middle-schooler. For god's sake, you were a teacher. You were supposed to be the responsible one, the one guiding the next generation to success and maturity. But you were instead getting fucked at 3 am and sending prank packages to get back at an ex. The moment you had that revelation, a wave of nausea washed over you, twisting your stomach into knots. You were an awful, sad excuse of a fucking human.

Clapton's large hand suddenly resting on your shoulder grounded you, just slightly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing and your palms trembling ever so slightly. “You’re not mad?”

Clapton laughs, almost bitterly. “I mean- I was. But I’m just- disappointed mostly. I know how much you love- loved Mike, but did it have to be me?”

You clenched your jaw together and looked away, eyes focused on the world outside. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. As you shifted your focus back to him, you were drawn into the depths of his warm, brown eyes. You searched for an ounce of understanding.

“It’s… I get it.” Despite the disappointment and betrayal you saw deep in his irises, he still smiled. Clapton was always like that. He had always hidden how he truly felt behind sickly sweet words. “I still want to be friends.” Even with his lie about understanding what you did, you could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; he was sincere about being your friend. You felt relieved that he valued your friendship as much as you did his.

“I’d like that.” 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You were completely drained, every ounce of energy drained from your body. Having two heart-to-hearts with the most important people in your life weighed on you immensely. For now, all you wanted to do was sleep. You wanted desperately for your life to go back to normal, before Mike lied to you, before you almost wrecked your relationship with Clapton. Back when times were simple.

Despite the turmoil in your heart, a part of you was still glad. There was still hope with Mike. But, did you want there to be? The haunting doubts nagged at you: What if he lied to you again? What if he shuts down, reinforcing those walls that had torn you apart? The uncertainty tightened its grip, leaving you torn between yearning and fear.

Could you still love him after what happened? Did he still love you?

Even with the countless questions racing through your head, exhaustion took hold, and your heavy eyelids finally surrendered. For the first time in weeks, a rare calm washed over you, finally granting you a peaceful sleep.

Are you gonna write a part 3 for we are never getting back together?

I’m genuinely so sorry but i’ve had severe writers block for a long time.

I’m trying to throw together a little smut one shot right now 😞.

Hopefully when I’m less busy during the summer i’ll get the next chapter out.

could I maaaaaaybe request a clapton/male!reader fic where clapton and the reader are close friends and the reader has a fat crush on clapton and clapton realises he also likes him back and stuff

Teenage Dream

WC: 1k

Warnings: just fluff

A/N: Thank you so much for your ask! I had a lot of fun writing this <3

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Clapton was attractive. No one could deny it. You definitely couldn’t blame the girls in your grade for being infatuated with him. But, it hurt seeing him give them attention back.

Ever since you met him when you were younger, you knew you felt differently towards him. It just took until your high school years to realize exactly what you felt.

Every time he laughed, you wanted to scream and rip all your hair out. Every time he looked at you with those… Big, painfully beautiful brown puppy eyes you wanted nothing more but to drop on your knees and confess your undying love for him.

But you never could. I mean, you're his best friend. And you weren't really sure if he would even fee that way towards you.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You’re sitting on the floor of his room, Clapton lying down on his stomach. His missing assignments are spread in piles around you, seemingly never-ending. He groans, throwing his head against the carpet. “Ugh… This is so dumb!” You laugh, your stomach filling with butterflies as you watch the muscles in his arms flex as he erases half of his work.

You quickly shake your head, looking back down at your work. “Hey, you’re the one who didn’t do them in the first place!” He lets out another dramatic groan, scribbling down curse words all over his paper. “Maybe they shouldn’t give me so much work! I’m a very busy man!” You roll your eyes, leaning over to erase the words he scrawled all across the page.

“Busy doing what? Picking up girls?” You chuckle, covering up your jealousy. He glances over to you, an almost guilty look on his face. You both stare at each other for a few moments, before he glances away. “Leave some for the rest of us…” You add quickly, trying to scrub the awkwardness away.

His pencil stops scraping against his paper, and the room falls to dead silence. He doesn’t look at you while he speaks, “Talking about… that.” He pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. “Why… Why have you never had a girlfriend? I mean, you’re an attractive guy.”

Now your entire body is lit on fire. Attractive? He just said you’re attractive. You feel like you could run a marathon. You feel like you’re flying, soaring through the stars. You know your face is bright red, but luckily Clapton is too focused on the concerningly realistic penis he’s doodling on the corner of his math homework.

You shake your head, realizing you should probably give him an answer instead of sitting there like an idiot. “I don’t know… No one’s ever been interested.” He finally looks over at you, his face blank. “I’m sure there’s someone interested. I mean- I don’t know for sure- But... You know!” He stumbles out, his cheeks tinting a rosy pink shade.

You look over at him, smiling at his embarrassment. You’re not sure why he’s acting like this, but you don’t mind. You both sit in complete silence for a few minutes since you’re not too sure how to respond to that.

Out of nowhere, he quickly sits up, pushing himself off of his stomach. He scoots over to face you, looking into your eyes. “Okay… I’m sorry but… Can you be honest with me for a second…? Do you- Shit…” He speaks quickly, rambling and not making much sense. You raise your eyebrow at him, wondering why he’s stumbling over his words like a drunk college girl.

“Do… Oh my god.” He holds his head in his hands, and you can see him slightly trembling. “Spit it out..” You awkwardly laugh, rubbing his arm.

“Do you have feelings for me?”

Your whole world crumbles around you. What do you even say to that? Who told him? You never told a soul. Were you that obvious? He’s never going to talk to you again. Oh god, he hates you.

Millions of thoughts ping-pong back and forth through your head as you try to come up with any words that would help you get out of this situation.

“Fuck, you do.”

He stands up, backing away from you. He begins pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands. You quickly stand up, unsure of what to do. You know this moment is the end of your friendship.

“Clapton- I’m sorry… Please… Please don’t hate me! I-“

“I do too!” He blurts out with no warning.

You freeze, your body going rigid. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. If your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest, and if you weren’t so sweaty, you would probably think you were living in a dream. You just stare at him, your jaw hanging open.

“What?”

“I like you…And… Recently I realized….You might too?” He stops pacing and starts fidgeting with his hands. He doesn’t look up at you, instead focusing on the hangnail he’s picking at.

You step closer to him, stopping a foot away. “I… I do.” He finally looks up, a relieved look washing over him. He sighs out and physically deflates. You step closer, and you reach out to take his hand in yours.

As you rub your thumb over his knuckles, you can feel him still shaking. “Are you.. okay?” He looks up and smiles, his face still flushed. “Yeah… This is just- Really new to me. I’ve never felt like this before…” You move his hand to cup your face, shuffling even closer.

“It’s okay. We... We can go slow.” You both stand there awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. You’ve never imagined this would actually ever happen. You always assumed it was just some fantasy you had of your best friend. But it's real. He really has feelings for you.

Clapton finally swallows his nerves, slowly inching closer to you. His eyes flutter shut as he closes the gap between you. You lean into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls you against him, the smell of his cologne consuming you.

The kiss is delicate and short-lived, but it’s everything you’ve ever imagined. He pulls back, his eyes glossed over and his hand still cupping your face.

Basically reading your mind Clapton clears his throat and speaks up, “That was better than anything I could’ve imagined.”

You giggle, and rest your foreheads against each other. Goofy smiles find their way to both of your faces. You both know it might be difficult, but you don’t care. As long as you both have each other, everything will be perfect.

Bad Idea, right?

afab!reader x Derek Danforth

Summary: You drunkenly bump into Derek at one of his parties.

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (m receiving), choking, cheating, porn with (some?) plot, hard dom Derek, afab reader, p in v, P piercing, fingering, degradation, praise

A/N: I know I said I'd write a Sean fic but I just got severe Derek brain rot...

Enjoy!

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

You’re not exactly sure what you’re looking for. You just know you need alcohol. Well, you’ve already had… two? Four drinks. But, what’s the harm in a few more?

As you stumble your way to one of the bars, you run headfirst into someone’s back. The stranger turns around, looking down at you. You immediately recognize him. Derek Danforth, billionaire playboy. You had worked for one of his many companies before, and your sorry excuse of a boyfriend was the reason you were even at this party in the first place. Derek and him used to know each other a while back but they haven’t spoken in years. He still dragged you to every single one of Derek’s insane parties, only to abandon you halfway through.

When the parties died down and you got too tired to keep your eyes open, you’d find him trying to sneak around with one of Derek’s hookers.

Derek pulls a vape from his pocket, his eyes fluttering as he wraps his lips around it and inhales. While he speaks, sickly sweet vapor blows into your face. “What’s a girl like you doing here alone?” His head tilts to the side as he takes another puff of the vape. 

“I’m not alone.” You cross your arms, your eyes not leaving his. A smile creeps down onto his face as he makes a big show of looking around you. “I don’t see anyone, sweetheart.” His voice is low and gravely, a telltale sign that he’s a bit tipsy too. The smell of whiskey on his breath mixes with the artificial vapor, making you dizzy. 

You take a step back, looking around for the man you came here with. Your eyes land on him sitting on a velvet couch, women with scandalous dresses surround him and run their hands through his over-gelled hair. Derek follows your line of sight, his eyes squinting as he sees him. “Really? That fuckin’ loser?” He laughs, throwing out more insults. “Are you really here with him?”

You look back over to Derek, your hands finding their way to your hips. “Why is that so shocking, Danforth?” He laughs, scratching the scruff on his chin. “I’ve scammed that bastard hundreds of times. He’s just a dumbass. He’s got no business being here with a beauty like you.” You know you should turn around and bolt through the front door. You also know it’s definitely a bad idea to tease someone a part of a family as powerful as the Danforths, but something entices you. 

Fuck it, it’ll be fine.  “Huh. In that case, I guess I’m not here with anyone then. Are you interested?” You give him a sly smile. “Oh, that’s cute.” He smirks, his calloused hands finding their way to your chin. He tilts your head up, bending down to put his face inches from yours. “Sorry, Honey. You’re drunk.” You shuffle closer to him, your noses just barely touching. His eyes flicker down to your lips, his tongue swiping over his own. “So are you.” 

He laughs, taking his hand away from your face and straightening back up. “Not enough.” He takes one last look over you, his eyes lingering on your breasts. He mutters something incoherent to himself when he turns to walk away. “Hey- Wait.” 

Your hand wraps around his wrist and you pull him back into you. His breath hitches in his throat as you press yourself against his crotch, already feeling his bulge. “You sure?” You slur, the alcohol taking over your senses and filling you with a burning desire you’ve never felt before. There was just something about the way his eyes undressed you, shamelessly focused on each curve of your hips. You want him, and you know he wants you too.

What you don’t know, however, is he’s almost ready to rip your tight little dress off and take you right there in the middle of the room. His frankly perverted thoughts are interrupted as you slowly grind against him, his pants getting tighter by the minute. He groans and doubles over, his hands gripping your waist. His fingers dig into the skin, making you whimper.

He groans with clenched teeth in your ear, “Fuck.. You’re just a slut, aren’t you?” His degradation does nothing but make the fire inside of your core burn brighter. You feel like you’re going to explode if he turns you down again.

“Please…” You whine into his chest as your hips slowly begin moving against his again. You glance around, noticing people begin to stare and whisper. Derek doesn’t even seem bothered as he grips you tighter. He curses again, every amount of hesitation pulled out of him. He grabs your arm roughly, finding the closest bedroom.

He quickly pulls you both in, pushing you against the door with one hand and locking it with the other. He pushes you further against the wall, his thigh riding up into your crotch, spreading your legs further apart. He yanks up your dress to your hips, your panties and legs exposed. 

His lips quickly find yours, his hands sliding down to your wrists. He pins them to the wall behind you, kissing you harder. You shiver as his tongue slides out and drags across your lips. Your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip inside. You whimper against him as you feel his tongue brush yours. 

The rough fabric of his suit pants grinds against the thin cloth of your underwear. You buck your hips against his thigh harder, your panties soaking through and turning the light green fabric of his pants dark. He bounces his leg against your core. You whimper into his mouth as his thigh continues to hit your clit. 

Derek’s lips wander to the skin of your neck, sucking the sensitive skin. You start grinding against his leg harder, feeling your stomach tightening. You moan louder as your back arches against the door. By the noises you’re making and the way your back is arching, Derek can tell you’re close. 

He whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. “You wanna cum? Hm? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” You nod and groan louder as his leg quickens and his grip on your wrists tightens. Just as you feel yourself slipping away, his thigh leaves your clit. You whine, feeling the euphoria quickly get ripped away. “You’re going to have to earn it, Love.”

His hands leave your wrists and grab your shoulders, pushing you to your knees. The rough carpet scrapes against your knees. You look up at him through your eyelashes, his crotch inches away. Without a second thought, your hands find the cool metal of his belt buckle. You quickly undo it, his pants falling to his ankles.

His tight boxers leave next to nothing to the imagination, the outline of his erection is very visible, begging to be free. You notice something sticking through the fabric. You quickly pull down his boxers, interested to see what it is. His dick springs up, slapping his stomach. He’s pretty girthy and he’s already leaking with pre-cum. The most striking thing, however, is the frenum piercing right below his tip.

You look up, raising your eyebrow. “Really?” He laughs, his hands tangling in your hair, gripping it. “Never seen a dick piercing before, honey?” You shake your head, millions of fantasies filling your brain. All you can think about is how the cool metal will feel sliding in and out of you as he stretches you out. He pulls your head closer to his erection, daring you to do something. “There’s always a first time for everything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lips, dragging it from the base of his cock to the piercing. The cool metal drags across your tongue. Your hand finds his shaft and you slowly drag it up and down his length, keeping eye contact the whole time. He looks down at you, biting his lip and grunting as your pace increases.

He throws his head back as he feels your tongue swirl around his tip, taking it into the warmth of your mouth. You slowly bob your head up and down, only going as far as the piercing. It drags across your mouth, the metallic taste overwhelming you. Derek’s hand drags you forward, your head pushing down further. The tip repeatedly slams against the back of your throat as his hips begin thrusting forward.

You gag, your eyes filling with tears. You scrunch them shut, your hands reaching out and digging into his thighs as he continues his assault on your throat. With every thrust, he tests you by pushing further and further. Spit drips out, dripping down your chin and running down the front of your chest.

The sounds of your gagging and choking fill the room as Derek begins groaning louder. His movements quicken, his grip on the back of your head tightening. Blackened tears from your smeared mascara roll down your cheeks, mixing with the spit and pre-cum.

Derek pulls your head back, pulling completely out of your throat. You begin to gasp, trying to catch your breath. Before you’re able to, he pulls you back forward, slamming into you again. No one has ever done such a thing to you before, and it overwhelms you. At the same time, you can’t deny you love it. The feeling of his fingers tangled in your hair and the feeling of him pounding into your throat fills you with nothing but pure lust and need. You buck your hips against nothing, your ruined orgasm from earlier begging to catch up to you. 

After a few times of Derek pulling out of your mouth and slamming back in, his movements get more sloppy. “God- Fuckk…” He groans loudly, not caring about the partygoers dancing right outside down the hallway. “I’m- I’m gonna…” His deep, gravely moans from earlier dissipate as whimpers leave his mouth. His lewd, almost pathetic noises flip a switch in you. You start bobbing your head faster, trying to match his rhythm. 

His hips stutter, and he slams back into your throat one last time. Hot ropes of cum shoot down your throat, filling your mouth with a salty-sweet taste. He doesn’t pull out until you swallow every last drop. Once he’s finished completely, he yanks you up, pulling you over to the bed. “You’re such a fucking slut…” He says as he gets on top of you, kissing down your collarbone.

He reaches behind you, unzipping your dress. He yanks it off of you, throwing it across the room. He quickly does the same with your panties, throwing them behind him as well. His eyes engulf your naked figure, not leaving a single part unseen. He resumes his earlier actions, this time kissing down to your bare chest. His lips find one of your nipples, taking it into his mouth. You moan as he swirls his tongue around it, pinching the other one between his fingers. He takes it between his teeth, gently pulling on it. You whimper, your arousal getting almost too much to handle. 

To your dismay, he pulls away, removing his hand as well. He glances up at you through his long eyelashes, his big brown eyes shooting through you. You grind your hips up against his, desperate for any friction you can get “You want more? Hm? Use your words, sweetheart.” He pins your hips against the bed, not letting you have any relief. 

“Please.. Please.” You whine. “What? Please what?” You throw your arm over your eyes, your face lighting on fire. You hate how much he’s toying with you, but at the same time, it just makes you want him so much more. “Please, please fuck me.” He smiles, a satisfied laugh leaving his lips. “Good girl…”

He spreads your legs open, his middle finger dragging through your folds. “You’re so wet for me already..” He gasps out, his eyes widening. His finger slowly slides into your pussy. You gasp as he adds another thick finger. Both fingers curl further up, pushing against all the right spots. 

You feel him lining yourself up with your entrance, his dick rubbing against your clit. His fingers leave you, quickly being replaced with his tip. You slap your hand over your mouth as he slowly inches in. You feel his calloused hand roughly yank your wrist down, pinning it to the bed. “I want to hear your pretty moans.” 

Your hips involuntarily arch up as he pushes you further. You do as he says, your moans getting louder. Your head begins feeling fuzzy as you feel a slight burning. You don’t know how much more of him you can take. Finally, after what feels like centuries, his hips meet yours. The feeling of his piercing sliding against your walls is something you’ve never felt before. But you definitely don’t hate it. 

He leans down, his lips capturing yours. He slowly begins thrusting his hips, groaning into your lips. He continues to thrust slowly, making sure you’re comfortable.  “More... Please, Derek.” You plead, getting exhausted from his painstakingly slow pace. He pulls his lips away from yours, looking down at you. A smirk creeps onto his face,  his eyebrows furrowing. “You sure you can take it?” You pull him back down on top of you, only whimpering out his name.

He immediately pulls out, slamming back into you, hitting your G-spot. You scream as he begins to relentlessly pound into you. His teeth find your neck, biting the skin beneath your pulse You dig your fingers onto his bicep, your fingernails leaving divots in his skin. Your back arches off of the bed as he continues to mindlessly ram into you.

He hoists your legs up over his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs. He mumbles out praises as he watches you squirm under him. You feel yourself climbing closer and closer to the end, your legs already beginning to shake. His hand shoots out, gently squeezing your throat. You start getting dizzy, your vision blurring. 

Skin slapping skin fills the room, loud music still blaring from outside. Sweat rolls down your neck, your fingers digging even deeper into his arm. He starts groaning even louder as his thrusts start to have no rhythm. He tenses up, gripping onto you harder. He slams into your G-spot one last time before cumming into you. The feeling of his warm cum coating your walls throws you over the edge, nothing but bliss spreading through your veins. Your whole body shakes as you come down from your high.

He pulls out of you, laying down next to you. You sigh, his cum dripping out of you and running down your leg. You're sweaty and hot, but you don’t regret a thing. If you could, you’d do that a hundred times over. You look over at him and he gives you a suggestive grin.

“You should let your boyfriend drag you to my parties more often…” 

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 2)

afab!reader x Mike Schmidt

pt 1

WC: 3k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of intoxication, slow burn, mentions of child abuse, no use of y/n, aged up character

A/N: I want to apologize for any confusion the first chapter might have caused! This fic is a Mike Schmidt fic. It's just a slow burn/somewhat(?) of a love triangle and I thought adding Clapton would be funny. (plus I’m in love with him…) Before you read, just as a warning, this chapter gets pretty deep. 

Enjoy!

tags: @h3llo-k1tt @caminterrupted @jhutchismyl0verb0y

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

It's been almost a month since you and Clapton's hookup. He's been texting you nonstop. Text after text floods in, and you ignore them all. You feel bad, but you’re too embarrassed to even face him. You sigh, flipping open to Clapton’s contact to read the new heap of texts.

U good?

Miss you. Hope that ur ok.

Wanna hang?

Helloooo?

Okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of u.

You groan, slamming your phone back down on the bedside table. You enjoyed the night you two had, and it felt great at the time. But now you just feel like shit. Now all you think about is Mike, and how disgusted he was with you. While you’re thinking about Mike, you realize you haven’t seen or heard him in weeks. He’s been out of his apartment way more than usual, and you’re sure he's avoiding you. To be honest, you don’t blame him. If he pulled that on you, you’d up and leave.

You lay back down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on a movie, desperate to think of anything else but Mike or Clapton. Suddenly, you hear frantic knocking on your door. You reach for the remote and pause the TV. You sit silently for a minute, wondering if you were hearing things. Not only is it 8 pm on a Saturday, but you also aren’t expecting any guests. Who could possibly be knocking on your door? As you're about to un-pause the TV, more knocks echo and bounce off the walls.

You slowly get up from the couch, and wearily walk over to the door. You shift to the balls of your feet, trying to peer through the peephole. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as all you see is the top of someone's head. You slowly wrap your hand along the cold metal of the knob, slowly turning it open. Your eyes widen as you see Abby on the other side.

Her face lights up, her eyes practically glowing. She squeals, bolting over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist.  “Abby!” You scream, pulling her into you.

“I missed you so much! Mike said you moved away to your castle to be a princess!” You scoff inwardly, Mike’s lie making you despise him even more. "Where is your castle, by the way?" You glance down at her, ready to make up some insane lie. Before you get the chance, you look to your left, seeing Mike skirt around the corner, bee-lining towards you. He’s panting, his face red. “Shit- I’m... Sorry. She’s so fast.” You plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face, ensuring Abby doesn’t notice the hostility between you.

Mike takes Abby’s hands, prying her off you. “Heyy! I want to play with her! Please! Please, Mike!” She whines, giving Mike her best puppy eyes. He looks up at you, a guilty look falling over his features. He shrugs at you, waiting for your response. “Okay, come in!” You say, focusing on the little girl in front of you instead of Mike. The two of them walk into your apartment, Mike clearly not wanting her to be alone with you. You give him a dirty look and he rolls his eyes. Luckily, Abby’s too focused on your decor to notice or even care.

She runs around your apartment, oohing and ahhing at every fuzzy pillow and every cute decoration lining your shelves. She opens your bedroom door, and you think she’s about to explode. She looks back at you, her eyes wide. “You can go in.” You say, giggling as she wastes no time to roll around in all the stuffed animals you still keep on your bed. You quickly follow behind her, flinging yourself in the pile. Mike leans against the door frame, smiling as he watches you both stand up and jump up and down the bed. Abby stops, her eyes catching on something on your bedside table. She jumps down, her feet landing on the plush carpet. She grabs a heart locket off your bedside table, holding it up to the light. “Woah! This is so pretty!”

You immediately freeze, your face almost lighting on fire. You quickly grab it out of her hands, stuffing it in a drawer. “Mhm, so pretty! Why don’t we get out of the bedroom?” You steer her out of the room, sliding around Mike. You loved her with all your being, but her lack of an attention span seemed like it was out to get you.

As Abby sits down on the couch, you look over at Mike. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are furrowed. He glances back into your room, the locket he got you for your 3rd anniversary haphazardly hanging out of the drawer. You both stare at each other for what feels like forever. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Mike opens your front door, not even bothering to announce his arrival. He sits down next to you, a huge smile on his face. “What?” You mirror his smile, confused as to what he might be so excited about. “Okay, I know our anniversary isn't for a few days but I- I just couldn’t wait. I'm sorry it's cheap, I couldn’t afford much.” He says, awkwardly. 

He reaches into his hoodie pocket, taking out a velvet box. You look up at him sweetly, gasping as you open it. You pull out a heart-shaped locket. You feel your eyes well up as you open it, reading the words engraved inside.

“I’ll love you forever and Always, Mike.” 

You fling yourself onto him and you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls you into him kissing you sweetly. In between kisses you mumble out, “I love you so much.” You feel so loved and so grateful that you met someone like him. You didn’t care about the money, he was worth so much more than gold or diamonds to you. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You shake your head, pushing the memories out of your mind. Mike looks away from you, his cheeks growing rosey. You sigh loudly, sitting down next to Abby. Over the next few hours, you and Abby color what feels like a thousand different sheets of paper. 

By 11 pm, you’re both lying down on the floor, markers and papers scattered all across your living room. Mike watches from the couch, telling Abby a story as she draws him. A few times, you both glance at each other, but you both quickly turn your gaze to Abby instead. After Abby finishes her drawing, she holds it up to you and him. “It's so good!” Mike says, taking the paper out of her hand. He starts pointing out small little details Abby included, gushing over each and every one. You’re utterly entranced as you watch him. 

You miss him so much.

Your eyes widen and bite your cheek, wanting to slap yourself across the face for even thinking that. He abandoned you. That’s it. 

But.. He loved you so much. Or at least you thought so. How could he just up and leave without a word? You wanted desperately for there to be any other reason. A part of you was convinced there actually was. You bite down harder, a salty metal taste erupting across your tongue.

Whatever happened, he left. That’s it. There’s no excuse. You clench your jaw, trying to ignore the roller coaster that’s running through your mind. Maybe… Maybe for now you can forget your distaste for him. Just for a few minutes.

You smile softly as he and Abby burst out laughing. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

They leave. Too soon. As soon as the door shuts behind the both of them, the apartment is filled with deafening silence. You lay down on the hardware floor, the cold wood seeping through your shirt and biting into your back.

You never realized how much you truly missed Mike and Abby until you saw them tonight. Or… Maybe you just missed having someone to wake up to every day. Whatever it is, you shake it off and crawl onto the couch, too sad to walk a few feet to your bed. You pull a soft blanket over you, the edge of it just barely covering your feet.

You slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of a time when you and Mike weren’t basically sending bombs to each other's front doors.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You bolt awake, sweaty and shaky. You look around, your heart beating out of your chest. You’re unsure of what woke you up, but it scared the shit out of you. Listening closer, you hear crying, no, wailing. And it’s coming from next door. You quickly bolt up, running to your door. But, you pause as soon as you reach it. You don't want to get involved with Mike and Abby's life more than you have to. Plus, it could just be one of her usual tantrums. It could even just be something as trivial as a burnt breakfast. You pivot, turning back towards the couch. As soon as you hear screaming, you tear up all of your inhibitions and run into the hall. When you reach Mike’s door, it flies open and a woman storms out, dragging an inconsolable Abby out.

The woman, who you recognize as Mike’s aunt, is gripping Abby’s arm so hard that the skin around her fingers turns white. Mike runs out of his apartment pleading with her, “You can see she doesn’t want to go! Please, just-” Abby digs her heels into the ground grabbing Mike's shirt with her free hand. Jane yanks Abby to her side, pulling her away from her brother. “I guess I’ll have to go to the police and tell them you kidnapped my niece! I have sole custody, not you, Michael!” Mike’s eyes go wide, the color draining from his face. He takes a step back, putting as much distance between him and Jane as possible.

You watch in shock, beyond confused about what had gone down during the two years you were broken up. “You truly are a despicable woman.” He says, disgust dripping from his voice. Mike crouches down, getting eye level with Abby. “Abby, I’ll see you soon. I promise, okay?.” His voice cracks as he reaches out, wiping her tears with his thumb. Abby wiggles out of her Aunt’s grip, running forward to wrap her arms around him. He pulls her closer as she sobs into his sweater. Aunt Jane rolls her eyes and then rips Abby away with absolutely no remorse. She drags her down the hall, turning the corner, and disappearing completely.

He sits down, pressing his back against the wall. He exhales, tilting his head back and staring into the fluorescent lights. You cautiously take a step towards him, “Mike…?” He looks over at you, his jaw clenching as he sees you. “Still can’t seem to mind your own business, huh?” He scoffs, his eyes turning away from you. You pause, crouching next to him. You desperately want to comfort him, but you just don't know how. “Can.. Can I do anything?” He looks over at you, his face twisting into a death stare. “For starters, you can leave me alone.” You flinch, feeling a wave of sadness rush over you. You can’t even imagine how he feels. “Mike, please..” You reach out, your hand brushing his.

He slaps your hand away, and screams, “I said leave me the fuck alone!” You stand up, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry for having a fucking heart, Mike!” He laughs, standing up. “Oh, you have a heart? Did you ever tell Clapton why you called him at 2 in the fucking morning?” You look away from him, swallowing. “That's what I thought. Leave me the fuck alone, and stay out of my life!” You feel tears burning your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lip quivers as you speak, “All... All I wanted to do was help.”

“This is exactly why I left you.” He turns away, storming into his apartment. As soon as the door hits the frame you break down, falling to your knees in the middle of the hall.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You’ve been crying for hours straight, the tears seemingly having no end. Your pillow is drenched and tissues are splayed out all over your comforter. As you wallow in despair, the sun slowly sinks further across the sky, the only light illuminating your room being the white glow of the moon.  It’s crazy to you how two entire years after your separation, Mike is still making you feel so extremely worthless. You could never be enough for him, no matter how hard you tried. What you hated most though, is that he had a point. You used Clapton. For your own sick and twisted reasons, you used him. And you hated yourself for it. 

Just as you begin to sob harder, you hear a thud against the wall, coming from the hallway. The sound echoes through the walls again, and it sounds almost like someone ran into it. You hear someone grunt and struggle, cursing. You recognize the voice and you groan, taking everything in you not to get up and check on him.

Suddenly, it feels like someone takes control of your body as you walk to your door, stepping into the hallway. You see Mike fumbling with his keys, missing the keyhole every time. He’s clearly very intoxicated. It’s surreal seeing him in such a way. He never drank when you were with him, he always told you he had to make sure Abby was always looked after and always had someone to turn to. Now that she’s not here, you guess he decided nothing is stopping him from getting shitfaced.

You walk over to him, grabbing the keys out of his hands, and unlocking the door yourself. He looks over at you, and any ounce of disdain he held for you from earlier disappeared. “Thanks..” He says quietly. You invite yourself in, making sure he gets to the couch without hurting himself. You avoid eye contact the whole time, knowing if you glance at him for even a second you’d burst out into tears.

Once he’s settled, you turn to walk away, but you feel his hand grasp your wrist, stopping you. “Please... Please stay.” He pleads. You sigh, removing his hand from you. “I can’t keep doing this Mike…” You say, finally turning towards him. He has a guilty look on his face, and he suddenly can’t seem to look at you. “I... I didn’t mean it..” He slurs, his face tipped towards the ground. 

You sit down next to him, your eyebrows raised. “You didn’t mean what..?” You question. “You know. What I said earlier. I do want you in my life…” He says, his eyes tracing the floorboards. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Mike, you’re drunk.” He shakes his head, finally making eye contact. “I swear. I do. I mean.. just look at you. I treated you like dirt and you’re still helping me? You’re just.. so.. so nice.” You frown, wishing so badly he was sober. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He reaches out, his warm hand cupping your face. His eyes bore into yours as he speaks. “I’m not ever going to lie to you again. I promise.” You’re not sure exactly what he means by “again” but you brush it off, chalking it up to more alcohol-induced rambles. 

You stand up, Mike’s hand leaving your face and falling back to his lap. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, okay?” He nods, following your every move and watching you as you walk around his kitchen. 

Your eyes begin dancing around every framed picture he has and every drawing Abby made he has clipped to the fridge. Your eyes settle on a picture of you, him, and Abby at an amusement park, almost exactly a month before he left you. You pick it up, your thumb rubbing over the scratches in the frame. That trip was unforgettable. That was the day you knew he’d be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. You couldn’t imagine a world without him or Abby. You put it back, wondering why he still has it. 

You fill up a glass, taking it back over to him. He drinks it in one gulp and he hiccups once it’s all gone. You place your hand on his chest, slowly pushing him back to get him to lie down. He takes the hint, lying back down on the couch. Your hand lingers there for a moment too long, but you quickly tear it away when he smiles up at you. The smile is still plastered on his face as he watches you drape a blanket over him. His eyes slip shut as he turns on his side, pulling the blanket to his chin.

You look down at him for a few moments. You just don’t understand how one moment you could hate him more than anything, and the next wish everything could go back to the way it used to be. You were half of yourself without him, and just as you started to feel complete he just had to infiltrate his way back into your life. As you watch his chest rise and fall, you just can’t help but still love him. Sadly, nothing was ever going to change that. 

You slowly creep towards the door, the floorboards creaking under you. He speaks so quietly you almost don’t hear him, “There was never another girl..” You freeze and turn back to look at him. “What?” Is all you can say. He doesn’t give you any explanation for what he just grumbled. You convince yourself you’re crazy and you’re just hearing things.

That night, you don’t sleep at all. You keep replaying that moment in your head, over and over. 

“There was never another girl.”

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩