#clapton detention

[r04dk1llx2]

Begging For It *ੈ✩‧₊˚

This came to me suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere, so enjoy it.

Pairing: Clapton Davis x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: You get to peg Clapton Davis. That’s it. That’s the story.

Tags: GN!reader (use of ‘mommy’ is the only gendered term), Dom!reader, Sub!Clapton, pegging, strap-on penetration, anal, nipple clamps, vibrating cock ring, whiny Clapton (as usual), premature ejaculation (he’s touch starved and horny be nice to him), praise, degradation, overstimulation, thigh-highs, very brief choking, average early 2000s teenager room setup, don’t talk about the fact that Ayesha didn’t produce music in that timeframe…

The harsh moonlight from your open window shines along his skin, illuminating the thin sheen of sweat covering his toned body. You were balls deep in Clapton Davis, the schools resident jackass.

“f-fuuuuck—! don’t stop-!” Your room is entirely filled with his moans, even drowning out the sound of the Ayesha Erotica track that he had playing on your speaker. Clapton was never one to be quiet.. being in bed with him was no different.

You thrust slowly, holding his hips as he groans into the fuzzy pink pillow beneath him. He looked entirely fucked out, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead, his necklaces tangled and his shirt pulled up to expose his chest, not to mention the black thigh highs you convinced him to wear for you. You gently pull at his hair, forcing him to look back at you.

He’s already drooling, long eyelashes fluttering as he looks back at you with a dumb grin, the chain connecting the nipple clamps you had put on him earlier jingling each time you push into him.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, pretty boy?” You purr, his hole clenching around you as soon as he hears that nickname. He nods frantically, lips parted slightly as he lets out a sharp whimper.

You pick up the pace, causing him to loose balance as you slam into him. He’s panting, a total mess beneath you as you bring your hand to hold his head down against the bed, your other hand reaching down to pump his painfully hard cock.

He yelps, hips bucking into your fist as soon as you make contact with his length. His thighs tense, his muscles showing under those sheer black thigh highs.

“Ghh—! m-mommy—!” He sobs, babbling incoherently, completely dumbed down by your dick. He whines loudly, eyes rolling back as you slam into his prostate.

It only takes a few more thrusts against his sweet spot for him to moan, his dick twitching hard in your hand before immediately shooting a load out against his stomach, coating your zebra print sheets in the process. He was never one to last long, got himself too excited and worked up.

He cries out, panting hard as you continue to move, only slowing down enough for him to catch his breath. He’s insatiable.

“Already cumming so soon, baby?”

“M’sorry—“ He pants, still rocking his hips back against you. “Please- keep going— need it-“

You nod, slipping your cock out as you turn him onto his back. He looks.. embarrassed, completely flushed, but turned on.

“Good boy… think you can cum again for me? Make your mommy proud?”

He nods pathetically, his hips rolling against the air, desperate for contact again. You grin down at him, reaching down to grab the chain connecting his clamps, tugging at it, watching his expression contort in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Fucking whore. Of course you’d be more than happy to cum again.” You spit, snapping the elastic of his thigh highs against his skin. He lets out a choked sob, tears pricking in his eyes from the overstimulation. “Stay there.”

You briefly get up, rummaging around the bedside drawer before pulling out a bright pink ring. You hold it up, waving it teasingly infront of his face as you climb back ontop of him, kneeling between his thighs.

“You know what this is, don’t you, baby?” You hum, watching his pupils dilate.

“u-uhm… a cock ring..?” Clapton stammers, nervously biting his lip. His cock twitches from the thought of you using it on him alone.

“Mhm.. that’s right. This one vibrates, it’s gonna keep you nice and hard while I fuck you.” You murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh, slowly slipping the cock ring onto his hardening dick. He whimpers, cock twitching at the sensation, a small bead of precum already forming at his slit.

“God, you’re such a slut…” You scoff, grabbing the bottle of lube that had been set aside on the end of the bed, pumping a generous amount on your hand before stroking yourself. Once you’re fully coated and lubed up, you guide his hips up and press back against his ass, feeling it immediately take you in.

He groans once you slide back in, knowing you hadn’t turned on the vibrating function to his cock ring just yet. His gaze meets yours, full of lust and a twinge of anticipation in those big puppy eyes.

“Mommy…?”

“F-fuck- what? you want that turned on already? are you that desperate to cum again?” You grunt, slowly pumping in and out of him, sweat already forming on your brow. He nods, looking a little embarrassed.

You sigh, a small smirk escaping your lips before you press the side button of the ring, feeling it vibrate to life. Clapton whines, hips bucking again as you hold his thighs, thrusting harder. He already looked close.

With how loud he is, you can barely register the music that’s still filling your bedroom, as if you could even think of anything aside from Clapton at this point. He looks so pretty… lips soft and puffy from earlier, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, a deep blush covering his freckled cheeks.

“Fuck me harder- p-please-! feels s’good—“

He’s begging again, how cute. You oblige, ramming deeper and deeper into his ass, the bright pink of the dildo connected to your strap-on sliding in and out of his pretty little hole, how he managed to take this much up the ass? No clue, but you weren’t one to judge.

After a few moments of listening to him babble incoherently, you turn up the vibrations on his cock ring, causing him to sob out in pleasure. His cock looked pathetic, all red and overstimulated, but still rock hard and leaking everywhere. As if he didn’t already leak all over this bed, you’ve got to wash those sheets later..

You reach down to grab his throat, applying just enough pressure to make him see stars as you fuck him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. You feel his legs wrap around your torso, the sensation of his thigh highs rubbing against your sides as he pulls you in closer.

“Cmon, Clapton… cum for me, be a good boy and cum” You pant, leaning in to kiss him, darting your tongue out to wet his painfully chapped lips. He almost instantly complies, parting his lips so you could deepen the kiss, letting your tongues dance as you thrust harder and harder into him.

He whimpers and moans into your mouth, stifling himself as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You hear his voice go up an octave, and his legs begin to tremble, his nails digging into your back as you feel a sudden sensation shoot up against your stomach.

You pull back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you hear him panting heavily under you, his eyes shut a his mouth still slightly open.

“Good boy… Such a good boy..” You whisper, peppering soft kisses along his jaw, slowly moving down to his shoulders. You let the ring continue to vibrate, but pull yourself out slowly, eliciting a high pitched whine from the pretty boy underneath you.

“mmhh- fuck— t-thank you, mommy—“ He breathes out, slowly opening his eyes, a mess of sweat and tears covering his soft skin. You wipe his cheeks, smiling softly down at him.

“mm-hmm.. of course, baby, I love yo—“

Knock. Knock.

“Y/N?? Did Clapton come over? You know we don’t want your friends over this late at night!”

Suddenly, a knock on your bedroom door, accompanied by the voice of.. who you could only assume was your parents, of course it was your parents, you haven’t moved out yet. You stare down at Clapton, his eyes were wide, and frankly, so were yours. You can barely make out the words over the mix of music and the vibrating of Claptons cock ring..

“oh fuck-“

[joshfutturman]

ੈ♡˳ jhutch char love confessions gn!reader

summary: jhutch chars realising they're in love with you headcanons for josh futturman (future man), derek danforth (the beekeeper), mike schmidt (fnaf), billy (burn), clapton davis (detention) and peeta mellark (the hunger games). suggestive elements.

ੈ♡˳ josh futturman

♡ it hits him like a truck one day, the realisation that he loves you. he's not even with you in that moment, in his own bedroom, sitting up suddenly from bed. he repeats it over and over, testing how it feels on his tongue. . . oh god, he loves you. ♡ he's never felt like this before. sure he's had crushes and stuff, but nothing as strong as this. it knocks the wind from his lungs. he can't stop smiling. he has to tell you. ♡ your next date consists of him tripping over his words the whole time, not entirely out of character for futturman, but you can tell he's on edge. he skirts around the words the entire time, until you kiss. ♡ when your lips meet, slowly, tenderly - he can't help it. an 'i love you' slips out between breaths against your lips. his cheeks blaze, but they blaze even brighter when you tell him that you love him too.

ੈ♡˳ derek danforth

♡ he realises he loves you one day at a party, watching you mingle with guests. he watches how you expertly wrap them around your little finger, a sudden surge of jealousy flooding his mind. he doesn't want you being with anyone else, you're his. and - fuck, fuck, what? he loves you. ♡ fuck, derek panics. this can't happen. it's not supposed to happen. he doesn't do that romantic sappy shit. he's happy, happy with the way things are, right? how did you manage to get so close? how are you doing this to him? ♡ he realises he doesn't want those other partners, flings, whatever, he just wants you. and he holds it in for as long as he can, bursting at the seams with love for you. ♡ it's not until you're both on the verge of climax one night, when it slips out unexpectedly in a moment of vulnerable passion, his lips ghosting against yours. it's out before he's even realised he's said it. but he means it, fuck he means it with everything in him. and it comes naturally to you too, echoing it as you capture his lips in yours.

ੈ♡˳ mike schmidt

♡ mike schmidt doesn't believe he deserves love. so when he realises how hopelessly in love with you he's fallen, he curses himself. he shouldn't, he can't. it'll only end badly for him, it's a pattern in his life he's cursed to follow. ♡ he starts to avoid you, stops asking you out, stops calling as often. you're hurt. and he hates that he's hurting you, but it's better for both of you. maybe if he can slip away silently, he can pretend he doesn't cherish the ground you walk on, maybe he can pretend you're not the love of his life. ♡ you greet him angrily at his front door, you're not going to let him slip away from you. you're met with resistance, until the words tumble from his lips in an avalanche of pent up feelings. ♡ it makes you pause, noting the sadness in his eyes. you cup his cheeks, gently guiding his face towards yours. you admit your love too, kissing his lips softly, repeating it as the look on his face tells you he doesn't believe your words, can't believe your words. but you'll prove it to him, every day for the rest of your lives if you have to.

ੈ♡˳ billy

♡ billy will tell you that he doesn't do 'love'. it's cliche, it's sickening. it's all to hide the fact though, that he's so clearly falling deeply in love with you. ♡ it's a sinking feeling that makes him feel sick, how much he cares for you. he finds himself thinking about you on drives, aching to have your hand in his. and he feels stupid, because he's never felt like this before. all those sickening love songs suddenly start to make sense, and he finds himself humming them occasionally. ♡ but how can he tell you? how can he tell you he loves you when his stomach forms knots at the very thought? it's too much, his soul will be laid too bare for him to handle any kind of heartbreak after that. instead he keeps his feelings to himself, cold, quiet, hoping they die away. ♡ they don't though, they blossom when you tell him you love him one day. you explain that you know he doesn't 'do love', but that you can't help it, you love him, and that's that. billy can't help it, he grabs your stupid dumb lovable face and kisses you till you both can't breathe, mumbling an 'i love you too' under his breath.

ੈ♡˳ clapton davis

♡ he realises he loves you one day while skating, and does something he hasn't done in a long time. fall. his body connects with the ground and he lays there, staring up at the pale blue sky passing him by. his arm stings a little from the impact, but he doesn't care. a smile spreads across his face, he loves you. ♡ clapton loves you, a lot. it's like a curtain has been pulled in his mind, revealing what was there all along. he's smiling, chuckling to himself as he wonders how he didn't realise it sooner. you're like, the coolest person ever. of course he's in love with you. ♡ he spends two whole weeks listening to 'if it's love' by sting. he sings it in the shower, hums it while out skating, mumbles it under his breath during classes. 'if it's love, it has no season, if it's love, there is no cure, if it's love, it won't see reason, and of this you can be sure. . .' - man, sting just. . . gets him. he totally understands the feelings he feels for you. ♡ and that's how he tells you, in a mixtape titled to you. the first song is that same song, and as you place it in and hit play, clapton rambles on about how he's fell head over heels for you. it's the cutest thing you've ever heart, the cutest thing anyones ever done for you - and you don't think you've ever seen him smile as wide as he does when you tell him you love him too.

ੈ♡˳ peeta mellark

♡ peeta fell in love with you the day he met you. it wasn't hard to fall, not when you clicked the moment you both said hello. they say love at first sight isn't real, but peeta knows you're proof that belief is wrong. ♡ he shows his love without words through his baking, sweet treats left at your doorstep, leftovers from the bakery brought on dates, asking you to try his experimental new recipe. he tells you he loves you through actions, through his kindness and patience. the way he gently tucks your hair behind your ear, holds doors open for you, or just simply listens with those sweet, gentle eyes. ♡ and he knows it's silly, maybe, how in love with you he really is. but he knows all to well that life is too short to hold back. he'd kick himself if he never got the chance to tell you how he really felt about you. ♡ so it's not hard for him to find the words when the time is right. they leave his lips, firm and strong, proudly almost. because he's been telling you he loved you from the day he met, albeit silently. and he'll tell you forever, until he proves just how special you are to him.

[jellypopswag]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where Clapton goes over to the readers house and have a smoke sesh, maybe make out and goes outside, riding his skateboard together🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙨𝙝

♡ ♡ ♡ jelly's notes ; ~13k words, clapton x gn!reader, m rated, lapslock, shotgunning, mentions and depictions of smoking weed, more romance than i intended

he can't get enough of you.

he's excited to see you, even just by the way he knocks on your front door—eager, fast, and loud.

you've come to believe that, when it comes to you, he thinks like a dog. every minute spent apart feels like an hour, and every hour spent apart feels like ten.

"coming!" you exclaim as you emerge from the kitchen, carrying some snacks. you make your way to the front door— at a leisurely pace, of course. the longer he waits, the more affectionate he'll be when he finally sees you.

you place down an ashtray and some snacks on your coffee table— chips, freshly popped popcorn, soda— the kind of junk food that you feel less guilty about eating when you're doing it with someone else.

closing the distance between you and the front door, tugging it open, your senses are ambushed in an all-too-familiar way.

clapton pulls you into a tight embrace, enveloping you in his arms. this close, you can smell his cologne— a deep, masculine scent, with an addicting tinge of sweetness you can only smell up close.

after a moment of basking in his embrace, clapton pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes. "I missed you," he says, as if his eagerness to get his hands on you didn't make that obvious already.

you smile at him, his hands easing downward to grasp onto your waist— holding you there.

clingy is an understatement.

you reply with a quick kiss; just enough to leave him wanting more. "what movie do you want to watch?" you ask innocuously, pulling away from him to sit on your couch.

his hands slip from your waist as you turn to walk off, causing you to grab his hand and pull it into your own— so as to not lose physical contact with him completely.

maybe the clinginess goes both ways.

he interlocks his fingers with your own, sitting down on the couch right beside you— leaving as little space between you both as possible.

"anything," he says, like he often does, which is code for 'i won't be paying attention to whatever we watch anyways.'

you eye him for a moment, an amused grin tugging at your lips. he really does love you, if the adoration in his unwavering gaze is anything to go by. it's no wonder that, when you're in the room, he can't focus on anything else.

"alright then," you slip your hand out of his own, a conscious choice on your part to make sure he continues to ache for more. You grab the remote off of the coffee table to scroll through netflix.

as if your sudden lack of physical contact knocked him out of his lovesick daze, he suddenly remembers something.

beside you, you hear shuffling as clapton adjusts to pull something out of his pocket: a small plastic bag, with a few pre-rolled blunts inside.

very classy.

turning to glance at him, you chuckle at the sight; already amused by how this night will inevitably go.

he leans in close, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before tossing the bag on the coffee table, shoving his hand into his other pocket to tug out a lighter.

"if I didn't know any better, I'd think that you're trying to get me to do drugs," you comment, with all of the amusement your teasing tone can convey. you grab the bag off of the coffee table, tugging it open.

"good thing you know better, then," he says, tone just as playful, and snatches the bag from you with a cheeky grin. "this is all for me."

you huff, quickly followed by a laugh, reaching to grab the bag from him. he lifts the bag up above his head, keeping it out of your reach. his grin has turned into a full, cocky smirk.

in your attempts to grab the bag from him, you end up in a rather compromising position; leaning over him, with one hand firmly on the back of the couch as your other arm stretches out as far as it can— trying to grab the bag and failing. to avoid losing your balance and collapsing atop him, your outstretched hand lowers to prop yourself up-- accidentally trapping him beneath you.

the laughter between you both slowly quiets, as the implication of what tonight entails begins to set in.

and, as cocky as clapton is, moments like these make his blind confidence melt.

he's in awe of you atop of him for a moment too long, leaving you just enough time to grab the plastic bag from clapton— getting off of him in the process.

laughing triumphantly to yourself, you pull a blunt out of the bag as clapton readjusts himself to sit upright. he grabs the lighter, shifting so that he can turn to you— an expectant glint in his gaze.

by now, you've long since realized something about clapton: he loves doing things for you.

if he had any say in it, you'd never have to lift a single finger again. oftentimes he doesn't even realize the ways in which he spoils you; down to his insistence that he always light blunts for you.

"let me do it for you," he'd said, the two of you crammed in the corner of a shitty house party.

you were just trying to score some weed, to make a shitty evening a little more bearable, but he thought you were beautiful— far too beautiful to do something so frivolous yourself.

you press the blunt to your lips— smiling around it, leaning into clapton just slightly— thumb and index finger holding the blunt in place.

with practiced ease, his gaze focuses in on your mouth— a quiet fizzle searing into the air as the other end of the blunt is carefully singed.

a comfortable, intimate silence falls over you both as you inhale— the familiar, earthy taste seeping into your mouth.

a quiet clanking sound signals that clapton has tossed the lighter down, although you barely register the noise— a haze washing over you as you sigh, light puffs of smoke flowing from your mouth.

your throat burns with it, but you've done this enough times to be largely unphased. you inhale again, pulling the blunt from your lips to pass off to clapton.

clapton takes the blunt from you, and in one swift motion— his lips are pressed softly against your own, blunt carefully outstretched to be certain that he doesn't accidentally burn you.

it's easy to melt into clapton; from the addicting sensation of his kiss, to the gentle way in which his unoccupied hand snakes its way upwards to cup your jaw in his soothing touch.

it was no secret that clapton was a fan of shotgunning. it hadn't been a secret for quite a while, actually. once you two had established frequent smoke sessions with each other, it hadn't taken long before his lowered inhibitions had enabled him to start making some rather bold moves.

you lean into his kiss, tilting your head as your lips part just slightly. with a gentle huff, the pool of smoke seeps into clapton's own mouth-- filling the air between you both with a dizzying haze.

before you can fall too deeply into the passionate kiss, clapton is pulling away-- with a dazed, cheeky grin you can't help but to admire.

maintaining eye contact, clapton presses the blunt to his own mouth-- inhaling deeply. plucking the blunt from his lips, he shifts his body to set the blunt down in the ashtray on the coffee table.

everything happens in slow motion after that.

seizing the opportunity, you use his distracted state to your advantage-- waiting until the moment he lets go of the blunt to gently shove him down onto the couch.

he stammers for just a moment as you crawl atop him, clapton looking up at you with big, dazed eyes.

you make a conscious effort not to touch him-- body hovering above his. you lean down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his own. quickly taking the hint, he returns the kiss in tandem-- a puff of smoke flooding into your mouth once again and filling your senses with nothing but dizzying want and the desperate need to cling onto clapton and never let go.

foolish, to think you could last more than a moment without getting your hands on him.

clapton reaches up to you, one hand cupping your jaw as the other trails downward to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

you hum, the sound reverberating into his mouth as you place a hand flat on his sternum-- fingertips carefully stroking his chest.

the weed-induced haze easing into your bones causes the kiss, while initially passionate and firey, to melt into something more languid. slipping your tongue past his lips, the taste of him seeps into your senses-- causing your pounding heart to beat even faster. your breathing grows heavy, body desperate with want.

but you're not too far gone yet.

smiling into the kiss, savoring it for just a moment longer, you pull away completely-- lifting yourself off of him and sitting back down on the couch, grabbing the blunt out of the ashtray.

you take another deep inhale of the blunt; with no intention of sharing this time.

clapton, still breathless, sits upright-- hair slightly tussled from his previous position.

he huffs, gaze fixated on you. he could pounce on you right now-- reverse the roles and have you pinned beneath him, kiss you until you're dizzy with it, and you'd be completely fine with that.

but you both enjoy this game. the push-pull nature of it, the way that any pleasure you get, you've worked for. it makes the reward taste so much sweeter.

coming to a mental conclusion, clapton stands up, outstretching a hand to you. "let's go for a ride, yeah?" he asks, his familiar, bright tone tinged with a sense of admiration exclusive to you.

you raise an eyebrow. "you rode here on a skateboard," you retort, noting that there's no extra car parked in your driveway.

"that's what i meant," he replies, as you concede and reach out to grab his hand. he chuckles, tone sickeningly sweet, and interlocks your fingers as he lets you lead the way outside.

leaving the house, you barely get the front door locked before he's pulling you to follow him-- skateboard lying carelessly upside down in the center of your front lawn. from its position, you can tell he spared no extra time earlier when it came to coming to a stop and rushing to your front door.

his obvious eagerness to be with you; to see you, talk to you, touch you, is dizzying.

by the time you make it to the empty road in front of your house, skateboard tucked securely under clapton's free arm, the buzz of weed has gone from jarring and dizzying to soft and mellow; a warm buzz flooding your skin.

clapton pulls his hand away from yours to set the skateboard down, planting his feet on the board with practiced ease.

he places both hands securely on your waist, helping you step onto the board in front of him-- your back practically flush with his chest.

once stable, he moves to fully wrap his arms around you for just a moment-- leaning his face in close to yours. "ready?" he asks, kissing your temple when you reply with a nod.

moving back to a more stable, standing position-- hands retreating back to grip your waist-- he plants one foot on the ground, propelling you both forward at a relaxed, gentle speed.

The pace he's set is comfortable, allowing you to ease into his touch, not paralyzed by fear of flying off of his skateboard.

seeing that the road ahead is straight, and it'll be a short while before you're concerned with turning, you tilt your head back-- leaning it on his shoulder.

he laughs, and you feel the way his chest rumbles with it-- pressing a kiss to the juncture between your neck and shoulder; one of his favorite places to kiss you.

"clapton," you say around the blunt, eyes fixated on the stars above you.

he hums in acknowledgment, as if not wanting to speak and break the serene moment that has fallen over you both.

glimmering stars in the sky, with the chirp of crickets and the gentle bustling of tree leaves serving as background music to this moment.

and clapton, hands gripping onto your waist-- tight enough to be firm, but meticulously careful enough not to bruise-- with his face practically nestled into the crook of your neck.

you pull the blunt from your lips with a deep inhale. "i love this," you sigh. and maybe it's a sudden burst of confidence willed up by nothing but your own subconscious, or it's a drug-induced boldness, but either way, you only contend with yourself for a moment before saying it. "i love you." you continue, hoping clapton doesn't notice the deep, pounding throb of your racing heart.

you feel clapton stiffen just slightly, a subconscious reaction born purely out of shock-- and a weed-induced difficulty to actually process what you just said.

clapton's grip on your waist tightens just slightly, adjusting his head so that he's practically whispering in your ear. his tone, while packed full of barely contained joy, is also shaking slightly. he's nervous, and it's the most endearing thing in the world. "...really?"

you laugh. "so much for a romantic response," you tease, grinning from ear to ear.

clapton carefully brings his skateboard to a stop, leading you off of the board so that you can turn to face him.

he pulls you in close by the hips, gaze locked on your own.

you find yourself dizzy again, nerves beginning to prickle at your skin with every second of silence that falls over you both.

clapton takes the blunt from your hand and tosses it aside carelessly, kissing you in a manner so full of love you could drown in it.

he murmurs it against your mouth, then. a quiet "i love you too" sighed onto your lips, his own breath wavering almost unnoticeably at the end. not from uncertainty, but from a certainty so strong his body can't properly contain it.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in close as you kiss him deeper.

you're addicted to each other, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

♡ ♡ ♡ thank you for reading! i had so much fun writing this. fun fact: i was high while writing at least a quarter of this fic (¯▿¯) ran into some formatting issues, so hopefully this post doesn't look too weird on y'all's end,, i apologize if any weed jargon was incorrect or sounded awkward, i'm pretty much exclusively an edible user so i'm not very familiar with the smoking side of things (*￣▽￣) check out my other works here!~ © jellypopswag

[stop-talking]

[joshhutchersonseggsalad]

Theres just something about Clapton Davis that heals my inner teenager who never had any down to earth friends to make me feel loved for who I was and who i become. I just know clap made the quiet kids feel seen and the emos feel heard and radiated sm light and love to everyone around him

I just wanna hold his hand and tell him how much everyone adores him and his chill soul🌲🛹

[this-aint-massachusetts]

And who’s gonna kiss the brown-haired boys? ME ME ME ME!!!

Who’s gonna wipe away their tears? MEEEEEE!!!!!

And what about the black haired boys and girls?

Who’s gonna whisper filthy things into their ears? ME!! FUCKING ME!!

[josephine-futturwoman]

Couldn’t even edge to this, I exploded immediately!!! Clean up on aisle MY PANTS🤣🤣🤣🤣💦💦💦

[jhutchsleftbuttcheek]

We all know. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH CLAPTON 🥳 (someone tag him)

[sleepyhutcherson]

i wish clapton davis was real :( i just want to play roblox with him so i can forget about horrible people in my life for just a second ( > < )

[claptondavis]

guys come back i’m so bored

[cfray8]

Clapton Davis sketch ples don't unfollow me I'm trying my best to post, I have more content soon don't leave 😢

[joshfutturman]

ੈ♡˳ jhutch char bday headcanons gn!reader

summary: celebrating your birthday headcanons for josh futturman (future man), derek danforth (the beekeeper), mike schmidt (fnaf), billy (burn), clapton davis (detention) and peeta mellark (the hunger games). some suggestive elements, food tw. a/n: happy birthday jhutch!

ੈ♡˳ josh futturman

♡ he'd definitely throw you a surprise birthday party, goes all out with decorations and balloons. ♡ your cake would be personalised and special made, but what you don't know is that he secretly tried to bake you a cake that went so badly that he had to throw it away. ♡ can't stop looking at you the whole day cause he wants to make sure you're enjoying it. ♡ orders your favourite takeaway for dinner. you sit in his lap as you eat it, a movie playing on the tv in his room. but he's not watching the movie, he's just looking at you with those puppy dog love stricken eyes of his.

ੈ♡˳ derek danforth

♡ absolutely spoils you with gifts, anything you want, you got it. there's too many gifts for you to count, and more comes throughout the day. ♡ his limo picks you up and drops you off at a fancy restaurant where he meets you for dinner, littering your neck with kisses in front of the entire place. ♡ surprise! he's rented the rooftop bar for drinks, it's just derek, you and the stars. ♡ he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, talking about how you'll get your real gift later in his penthouse. in bed.

ੈ♡˳ mike schmidt

♡ he works extra shifts for weeks to afford something nice for you. he tries to hide the blush on his cheeks, looking anywhere but into your eyes as he gives you your gift. ♡ he and abby bake you a cake, it's adorable. abby helps you blow out the candles. ♡ you all watch a movie together, bundled up under blankets with takeout pizza. mike can't seem to wipe the smile from his face. ♡ later, mike kisses you senseless in bed, mumbling about how he's so lucky to have you.

ੈ♡˳ billy

♡ he wakes you with feather-light kisses along your neck, whispering 'happy birthday babe' in your ear. ♡ takes you to a drive-in movie, making out with you during the credits. ♡ spends the full day joined to your hip, kissing you and wrapping his arms around you every chance he can get. ♡ pretends he hasn't bothered to get you a cake, but then surprises you later, using one of the lit candles to light his own cigarette with a smirk on his face.

ੈ♡˳ clapton davis

♡ makes you your very own birthday mixtape, filled with songs that remind him of you. ♡ he bakes a cake for you, it's kind of a disaster, but he still presents it to you with a massive smile on his face. ♡ lays with you under the stars as you both talk about your future and listen to your mixtape, hands intertwining. ♡ he presses soft kisses to your face, your nose, your lips, your eyes, your forehead, each time telling you something different he loves about you.

ੈ♡˳ peeta mellark

♡ he greets you with breakfast in bed and flowers with a shy but proud smile on his face. ♡ gives you your gifts shyly, with a flush on his face but an eager smile, hoping you like the personalised presents. one of which is a jar, filled with love notes for you to open every day. ♡ you slow dance in the kitchen after dinner, resting your head into the crook of his neck as he hums to you. ♡ gives you such strong, warm hugs the whole day. the kind that make you feel safe, like nothing bad can ever happen while he's got you.

[jellypopswag]

𝘾𝙡𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝘽𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙!~

♡ ♡ ♡ jelly's notes ; clapton davis x gn!reader headcanons, present day, t rated, lapslock, includes mentions of alcohol and drug use

☆ Incredibly devoted to his partner

☆ will share his earbuds with you whenever possible

☆ he loves going on walks with you and listening to his music, forced to brush up against each other to keep the earbuds from falling out

☆ finds himself rambling pretty often, whether it's about how his day has been or a new song that he's discovered

☆ he appreciates a partner who will listen to him, and uses those moments of long discussion to cuddle with you or be physically affectionate

☆ his ideal date night would be watching a movie with you at home, cuddled up on the couch, and then listening to music until you pass out cuddled up against each other

☆ extremely clingy

☆ with no intention of changing that fact

☆ never sleeps well when he isn't sleeping with you

☆ will knock on your window late at night at least four times a week, asking to sleep with you

☆ doesn't snore, but if you're laying your head on his chest-- you can hear a graveled huff, and feel a rumble gently tinge your skin

☆ texts like it's still 2012

☆ "gtg 2 class. luv u ;3"

☆ if you're going to a party, he always wants to come with

☆ he's not overprotective, but he can get anxious about you and your safety

☆ feels the most comfortable and at ease when he can see you

☆ will follow you around

☆ preferably, close enough to have an arm wrapped around your waist

☆ tons of pda

☆ holding hands, laying your head on his shoulder, etc etc

☆ tells you that he loves you constantly

☆ tells you how beautiful you look at least once a day

☆ would use cheesy petnames with you if you wanted to, ironically or unironically

☆ when you sleep together, he always tries to stay up later than you-- and bask in a few minutes of listening to your gentle breathing, admiring your relaxed, sleepy expression

☆ switches between big and little spoon frequently

☆ doesn't enjoy cooking on his own. however, he loves cooking and baking things with you

☆ he's a very bad cook though, fair warning

☆ would smoke pot with you (hc post specifically about this is currently in the works!)

♡ ♡ ♡ thank you for reading! my other works can be found in my table of contents~ © jellypopswag

[stop-talking]

J-hutch Characters on a road trip... together.

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Futturman: "I... uh, I think you missed the exit..."

Mike: *straining to hear over the loud-ass music Clapton is blasting* "WHAT?"

Derek: *scrolling through his phone* "Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you to turn. My bad."

Mike: "GODDAMN IT. What the hell are you even doing on that thing? I thought you said it had a map?"

Derek: *scoffs and waves his phone in Mike's face while he drives* "I'm checking the current value of dogecoin! It just went up 8%!"

Clapton: "No fair! You only got shotgun because you were supposed to navigate!"

Derek: "I got shotgun because I'm an adult, brat."

Mike: *increasingly agitated* "What the FUCK is a dogecoin?"

Futturman: "Guys, PLEASE. Stop yelling. I'll check where the next turn is..."

Billy: *kicking Derek's seat* "No, the kid's right. This bastard should do it."

Clapton: "I'M NOT A KID!"

Derek: *turning in his seat to glare at Billy* "What did you just call me?"

Mike: "All of you SHUT THE FUCK UP."

Clapton: "...yes sir."

Futturman: "Oh, that's it! That's the exit!" *Points to a spot less than 50 feet away*

*Mike swerves harshly, cutting through three lanes and getting honked at by at least two cars.*

Billy: "FUCK! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US, MAN??"

Mike: "This is why I wanted to use a goddamn paper map."

Derek: *trying to compose himself after nearly pissing his pants* "What is this, the 90s?"

Clapton: "H-hey, the 90s were pretty cool..."

Billy: "Kid, you weren't even alive in the 90s."

Clapton: "Yes I was! I was born in '93!"

Futturman: "I'm supposed to believe you're a year older than me?"

Mike: *Glancing back at Futturman in the rearview mirror* "You're seven?"

Derek: "CAN NONE OF YOU DO MATH???"

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I just couldn't get this Idea out of my head... but I didn't want to write an entire fic about it, so enjoy this little blurb. (This is assuming that they are all in the year 2024, but still from their respective time periods.)

Also this is how I imagine they would sit. Clapton in the middle because he's the smallest, and Derek up front because he's a brat. (Also because Mike had to forcibly separate him and Billy...) Futturman spends the whole trip trying to de-escalate everyone.

[joshhutchersonseggsalad]

I need Clapton Davis to kiss my nose RIGHT neow

[this-aint-massachusetts]