Could You Do A Wally Clark X Reader With The Prompts "i've Been Stupid Enough To Keep Chasing After You."

Euro Trip (masterlist)

Masterlist for my completed Rafe Cameron/Topper Thornton series - Euro Trip!

Series synopsis: In the summer break preceding college, you and your best friends Kelce and Topper plan a Euro Trip to take before you’re separated in the fall. What happens when Kelce’s father forces him to cancel, and he has to give the ticket to someone (an infuriating someone) else?

Pairing: Rafe x Kook!reader, Topper x Kook!reader

Total word count: 51.9k

Warnings (so far): cursing, drinking (incl underage drinking), some kissing, hinting at smut, lots of angst (but equally as much fluff!)

Part 1: euro trip

Part 2: not your sweetheart

Part 3: past tense

Part 4: isn’t it obvious?

Part 5: do I make you nervous?

Part 6: you’re you, Rafe Cameron

Part 7: i like me better

Part 8: my girl

Part 9: all in

Part 10: home

Related posts: y/n’s story, y/n’s story p2, Rafe’s story, Rafe’s story p2, playlist (made by the INCREDIBLE @r0und3bitch), Topper’s story, y/n’s story p3

Blurbs: the look, super rich kids, Mr Cameron, before the bonfire, real deal

HCs tag!

Prompt list

PRETTY WHEN I CRY ⸺ neteyam !

synopsis :: to him, you look ethereal. sculpted by the sky itself, skin gilded with ivory specks, he is suddenly overcome with the urge to uproot his eyes; just so that your face would be the last he commits to memory.

pairing :: neteyam sully / f!omatikaya!reader

author’s note .ᐟ me when i. me when i cannot shortly elaborate on an idea in under 1k words. physically incapable of it actually. this is littered w references btw so lmk if u catch any! angsty as hell yall im sorry.. based on this post😋 ps. listen to pretty when u cry/tunnel under ocean blvd, thats what i did <3

content warning :: mature

word count :: 4.1k

general tags :: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, no happy ending (mayhaps ?? open to interpretation), suggestive themes, aged up characters, goodbyes🫂

“No… what? No, you— you cannot just leave.”

There is a certain knot deep inside your chest, slowly but steadily clawing its way upwards your throat. It’s dizzying, it’s suffocating, and entirely disarming; frantic eyes sweep back and forth between the boy in front of you and the forest wall behind him. In disbelief, maybe. Denial, perhaps, of the all-consuming dread of knowing the inevitable.

Keep reading

my valentine without the word ㆍ୨୧ㆍ wally clark x fem!reader

summary: being boyfriend and girlfriend spirits were easy; they were able to touch, able to feel each other, see each other and everything! but, what wally didn’t think of was the fact every valentine’s day, he can’t ask her to be his valentine since that’s the day she died.

warnings; mentions of y/n death, bubbly! reader, clueless! reader, sweet! reader, wally being a yearner, extreme fluff and soft ending, awkwardness a bit, make-out but no smut

a/n: HEY YALL..but anyways i wanted to write a little wally fic for valentine’s day bc I YEARN FOR HIM ITS SO BAD STOP STOP MAKE IT STOP

sitting on the top bleachers with their hands holding one another, wally pressed his lips against y/n’s sweet and tender ones, she smiled into the kiss and hummed when he let his hand wander and pulled her waist closer to his body.

this was their morning routine, afternoon routine, evening and night. every day they’ll find some alone time and cuddle up with each other, losing time and energy in each other and finding comfort in one another.

today was different, it felt different, the atmosphere was totally off and wally didn’t know what it was, every couple was kissing somewhere, there were pink balloons, heart shaped and all.

he knew exactly what today was, but couldn’t do anything about it.

pulling apart as she kissed his cheek, y/n heard her name be called by sarah, another ghost who’d died from choking on her cucumber at lunch ten years ago, she was nice and sweet, wally didn’t know her personally, but y/n talked about her a lot and he’s bound to listen to every and anything she says.

‘oh, i guess i gotta go, i promised sarah i’d talk to her today, i’ll see you later?’ y/n hummed and tilted her head to the side as wally smiled deeply and pushed his lips against hers one last time, for now

‘okay but promise we’ll meet up in the teachers lounge, i heard words that there’s some cute decor there. I know you’ll love to see’ he smiled as she squealed.

y/n loved anything sweet, soft, kind and gentle. she was bound to date a jock, if they were still alive, he wouldn’t put it past himself that he wouldn’t go for her.

‘okay! i’ll hold you too that’ she smiled and pulled away from his grasp, walking down the bleachers and running to sarah.

sighing he leaned back—‘did you ask her yet?’ yelling and turning to see charley he groaned and rolled his eyes.

‘no..why would i? that’d be a different level of fucked up..i don’t want her to think about it’ wally sighed and looked at the door that y/n had left out of.

‘think about what? valentine’s day? it’s the most cute day for couples, expressing love, kissing each other, holding each other, whispering sweet nothings—‘

‘remembering the day you died on…’ wally looked at charley who left his mouth agap, frowning his eyebrows and gasping.

‘wait, she died on valentine’s day? the sweetest girl, bubbly, nice, beautiful, kind, loving, and supportive girl died on valentine’s day? how even…’ he was confused, y/n shared how she died in an embarrassing and traumatic way never when she died especially on this day.

‘yeah..she never told you?’ wally turned and was shocked, he’d assumed she told everyone by now, it’s been years, but he wouldn’t if he were her.

‘no..no? what happened? if you can tell me’ he wanted to know, charley needed to know, if it was so embarrassing it would probably cure him from being a gay who died of a nut allergy.

‘well..i mean..if i tell you, you didn’t hear this from me! i don’t want to tell you but she said she’d tell you guys more about it tomorrow so ill tell you’

‘okay! okay! just yeah..tell me everything’ he got comfortable next to wally and waiting for him to start it.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

walking down the school hallway with her hair in a half up half down and a bow on the hair tie, y/n hummed and smiled to herself while she thought about her secret love letter she got in her locker.

she was a huge romantic and seeing that made her whole day, her whole valentine’s day.

the letter had said—

to the most beautiful girl in school, i want to confess my love to you but im afraid. afraid of what you’ll think of me and afraid of what you might say. meet me behind the school after school so i can confess my deep love and affection for you, y/n l/n, my sweetest memory.

from your secret admire.

she was star struck, she heard rumors of people having a crush on her but she never listened to the because they never said anything to her directly, she loved love and wanted to feel it more than anything, but hearing rumors and fake news made her dislike love from school more than anything.

it was the last period and she’d been drawing hearts on her paper, red and pink. smiling to herself while holding the letter in her pink knitted pocket.

wondering to herself who could it be? what does he look like, or what does she look like? are they tall or short? silly or serious? dangerous or nothing like it?

she was in a daze.

at the end of the day, waiting in her deep red car, she sat and waited, everyone leaving the premise, the sun setting and the moon coming to show its softness, she was nervous.

getting out of her car and walking to the back of the school, she looked down to see red rose petals on the ground and smiled wide, her face warming up and her eyes shining.

following the rose petals she looked up and smiled at the huge letters of ‘would you be my valentine’. gasping and giggling to herself whilst looking at the table of heart shaped chocolates and flowers she touching them softly.

‘y/n?’ turning around she jumped and suppressed a gasp. what was he doing here? was this allowed?

‘mr. smith..i’m sorry i—‘

‘no no..don’t apologize..besides i’m the one who asked you to be here’

what.

‘i’m sorry?’ she knew exactly what he meant.

‘it’s just..i know that this isn’t normal but i know that this is real, what i feel for you? it’s all real, and i know you love me too, you show it all the time! smiling, laughing at me, staying after class—‘

‘mr.smith..i’m..no? i’m sorry i don’t understand..i stay after class for help on my work i don’t—‘

‘no no no don’t play with me i know what you feel i know it’s real, i know that you love me, i love you just as much, even more if anything!’ He stepped closer as she stepped back, hitting the table of flowers and chocolates.

how long did this take him to plan, did he really feel this way for her, she’s sixteen for heaven sake and he’s forty nine, he has a wife and she’s pregnant, where did she go wrong.

‘mr.smith please..i need to get home—‘

‘no!’

jumping she gasped and held a hand over her mouth as he tried to calm himself, breathing in and out with his eyes closed he shook his head—‘no..you haven’t even touched your chocolates yet..please..just..please’ sighing she walked sirius the table to that it was between him and her.

‘i’d i eat this..will you let me go home..please’ she begged. he looked like he was thinking to himself, weighing out the options and signing.

‘of course!’ she sighed and gulped, picking up a milk chocolate heart and slowly pushing it into her mouth she chewed, and swallowed.

‘there..now—‘ gulping while she felt something in her body move, almost as if something just shut down, she closed her eyes and hummed.

‘sh sh sh..’ walking to y/n who kept opening and closing her eyes she frowns and groaned, her whole body felt so heavy, out of place and like water.

what..she’d be drugged of course.

a popular teacher amongst the town who fell in love with his sixteen year old student just confessed his love. of course he knew the odds of her returning them, that’s why he did this.

‘mr…’ she hummed and almost fell but he caught her body, his hand on her cheek to hold her head up as her light pink kitten healed foot bent, losing her balance. the only thing keeping her afloat was his grip around her waist and his hand on her neck and face.

‘it’s okay my sweet, it’s alright, sh sh sh’ he brought her body down on to the stage floor. his knees present against the wood as she was passed out cold, her mind shut down completely and he shoved more chocolate down her throat.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

‘the last thing she remembers is waking up in the stage floor and the whole room was empty, her body was sore and she said it felt like she was walking on nothing. later that week she’d even ignored by everyone and anyone, her parents had come to look for her even when she yelled in their face that she was right there.’ wally clutched his fist in anger and sorrow for her.

charley sat there in pure silence and shock, the overwhelming feeling of pity filled his every being. horror and sadness were very apparent in the both of them.

‘then the next week after that, she’d started hearing rumors about her death, that she was strangled, and shoved in the back of the costume room. the autopsy report being overdose, the last thing she ate being chocolate..every time she sees one she gets physically sick..’ wally shook his head as he remembers the time she ran out of the room when a student dropped a box of chocolate in front of her and she wasn’t seen for the rest of the day until he visited her.

‘he was caught, a month later, in a room filled with her pictures and a lock of her hair in his grip, supposedly he still keeps it to this day in jail’ wally finished off as he looked at charley who’s been shut down.

his mouth hung open and his eyes watching wally.

‘but..does she know he’s still alive?’

‘yeah, of course she does, she listens to the teacher lounge every day for any news about him dying, she reads the newspapers and watches the news when it’s on’ wally stood up and walked down the bleachers with charley following.

‘so wait, i understand how fucked up and traumatic that is but why won’t you just ask her to be your valentine you know? without the fancy decorations, without any sweets or anything, what about like..pizza? or a hot dog?’ he suggested.

‘nah..i don’t want her to hear the word from me at least and get any form of flash back, i couldn’t fathom it if i cause her pain in any way even if its involuntary..I just wanted her to have a sweet day without anything happening.’ wally walked as charley followed.

there weren’t many places to go but at the moment the cafe was the hot spot, y/n had been off somewhere, post likely the acting class with sarah still.

‘well i don’t think if you say “will you be my valentine” without saying it, she’ll have any kind of flashback’ he suggested.

wally turned and was interested.

‘how do i say it without saying it?’

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

walking down to the teachers lounge as wally fixed his hair, he straightened his back and cracked his neck.

charley’s words ringing and replaying in his head as he saw her.

standing with her small heeled shoes; pink knitted sweater and white dress, her hair tied back and with a bow, she turned and smiled.

‘wally!’ walking fastly to him and wrapping her arms around his neck he smiled and held his hand on her small back, holding it and kissing her deeply.

she smelt so nice every time he was around her. her whole being was enough to be a drug for him if anything.

‘aw did you miss me today?’ he teased as she nodded with a smile.

‘i was thinking about you all day! i wanted to ditch sarah and come to you so bad but i didn’t want to be a bad friend’ she laughed as he did as well, his arms holding her against himself.

‘i was thinking about nothing but you, i wanted to do something for you..something small, y’know. for our day’ he smiled, trying to avoid the words, the day, today, and valentine’s day.

‘awh, our day? what do you have planned’ she wondered; tilted her head to the side while her earring hoops moved as well.

‘come on!’ He tugged her hand and lead he outside.

walking to the garden that the school had, he opened the door and they sat down on the silver bench, it was a bit chilly but the breeze settled it evenly.

‘you wanted to come outside?’

‘yeah, i mean, it’s a nice day, the flowers have bloomed, look’ she turned from his eyes and looked at the pink flowers on the ground. gasping she smiled at them.

‘oh, this is sweet’ she smiled and turned to wally who looked like he was suffocating.

‘baby you okay—‘

‘but y’know, we can also go to the lounge, any classroom, the rooftop! it doesn’t matter, or our favorite secret spot?’ he grinned and pressed his nose against hers and smiled while he kissed her softly.

she smiled into it but frowned and pulled away.

‘wait, so your not going to ask me?’ she pulled away while looking at his lips, her pointer finger touching his chin while her eyes then moved up to his own.

‘..ask you what?’ he asked dumbly

‘wally..you know what’ she scolded, her eyebrows frowning—‘wally come on..’

‘i can’t! you know i can’t and i won’t!’ he shook his head while she placed a hand on his cheek.

‘wally..’

‘no y/n i’m serious. if i bring up anything, any pain, any memory; any regrets and trauma i will lose myself and i can’t do that to you because i can’t hurt you. i can’t..’

‘wally…your not hurting me by asking me to be your valentine..you never ask me! this is the sixth year you didn’t ask me! i let the other five pass because i wanted you to say it without me saying anything but please..it’s cute! it’s a beautiful day it’s..it’s not why i died..’ she whispers the last part; his eyebrows pulling together.

a small frown on her lips as she let her fingers play with his ear, a weird calming touch for him and a note for her to let her know he was there.

‘i didn’t die because of valentine’s day i just so happened to be killed by some weirdo who thought i liked him..im over thinking about it..i want you to be my valentine if you’ll have me?’ she smiled at the final part and he smiled back, laughing and nodding as she hummed.

‘yeah?’ she encourages as he nodded more—‘yes..yes, will you be my valentine?’ he smiled as his lips brushed hers and she nodded with a smile.

‘of course wally clark’ pushing herself into his lips as he closed his eyes, he hummed and held the back of her neck, their kiss deepening and her hands touching his chest and neck.

pulling apart to breath into each others mouth before pushing back into it, wally leaned back onto the bench and let y/n on top of him, her hand on his chest and his holding her waist.

she smiled as he groaned a bit. moving her face and nibbling his neck.

gripping her waist and resisting the urge to push his hips up against hers. she smiled and whispered—‘i’m not afraid of chocolates anymore, you can get me some of those too’ he smiled as she hovered over his face and leaned down to kiss her sweet.

holding the neck of his valentine .

pregnancy, parenting, and toddler mods to enhance realism | the sims 4 | all mods and cc mentioned

hi tumblr! i just posted a video of some family gameplay mods that i'll be using in my let's play, here's all the links mentioned:

pregnancy / parent mods

parent at home - semi active career by loryna

expanded pregnancy interactions by loryna

parenting styles mod by loryna

realistic childbirth mod (llamaze class update) by pandasama

toddler mods

patty cake mod by ozzy sims 4 mods

functional drawing station by pandasama

makeup bag / makeover parents by pandasama

education overhaul mod (preschool) by adeepindigo

functional kids trampoline by pandasama

functional play food truck by pandasama

cozy nursery set (slide) by hydrangea

toddler basketball hoop by pandasama

time out chair by ozzy sims 4 mods

h&b pro toddler tablet by littledica

high chair lock by pandasama

functional squishamallows by bellasims

no puddles under bathtubs by littlemisssam

infant / toddler bath sponge override by vixonspixels

healthy porridge for toddlers by somik and severinka

cartoon movie override by midnitehearts

misc mod / cc / lot

clean day clutter + cleaning items override by simkoos

white willow memorial hospital by hyggetrait

kaira's outfit : lil one recolor set by themintsimmer

you can see all gameplay + functionality of these mods here

Happy 800! As much as I love dressing up, I do love a dressing down even more. So hows about soft fluffy smut in old t-shirts and tea-stained shorts, and tom finding you absolutely beautiful anyway? 💕

Ugh fluffy smut is my favorite 😩

18+ Warnings: SMUT, soft smut though, protected sex, hand holding, forehead kisses

800 Thirst Night - Inbox

Tom has you on the bed, back against the headboard and legs spread wide. Your old shorts from who knows how long ago discarded on the floor next to the bed.

Tom’s never been a boob guy so not taking off your shirt has become a regular thing; though you can’t imagine how he could be into you with the old ripped tee covering his view.

He’s noticed your hesitation as he slid in between your legs; he’d just finished rolling the condom down his length and was lined up with your entrance.

“Darling?” he asked gently, “what’s wrong?”

“I just don’t know how you could like this outfit, thought you would’ve ripped it off immediately,” you whispered.

“No, no, no,” he soothed, “love you in anything,” he smiled, “you’re always beautiful to me.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “still wanna go ahead?” he asked against your temple.

“Yeah,” you smiled, feeling him push inside as soon as the word left your mouth.

You felt his breathy moan against your skin, your hand finding his now free one and locking on for dear life.

He started to thrust slowly, savoring your body, “love you, always,” he whisper-moaned.

“Love you too,” you breathed back before finding his lips with yours.

NOTES: for @xstarkillerx

You can't conceptualize what's wrong, a combination of things weighing you down as you seek out comfort. BRIAN O'CONNER sits at his work-table, sketching concept designs for the tweaks he'd like Tej to make. He's not a very gifted artist, but he's got the general idea down, at least until you pad onto the scene. As quiet as you are, he's learned your tells, glancing at you after he speaks, "What's up, sweetheart?" he asks, a little curl to his lips at the sight of you rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes. You don't say anything, coming up to his side to fix your hands on his thigh, hoping to silently grab his attention while you wait for him to notice you. It takes him a second, but he does, gazing at you more deliberately this time. You exchange a look, and he adjusts in his seat to accommodate you while you invite yourself onto his lap.

You nestle in, tucking your head under his chin with a sigh. With an arm, he secures you, drawing you into him to get more comfortable himself, he inclines into you, curling his body around you as if you're his centerpiece. Gently, he bounces you on his leg, eyeing the tip of your nose. "S'the matter, bunny? Don't feel like talking?" You're unresponsive, you don't even look at him, and he strokes your back with his big hand. "I got it. Don't worry, I got it." Sweetly, he rubs his cheek on the top of your head, ending it with an affectionate kiss.

this is the best superman fic i’ve ever read…

(arranged marriage, smallville, old kansas au, reader cheats with superman unaware it’s clark, omg clark is just a sweetheart here LOVE IT YUM, nsfw)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61503487/chapters/157628683#chapter_4_endnotes

𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑜𝑦

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

A/N: I watched maybe two seasons of this show last year and kind of moved past it. I randomly got a Clark Kent fic on my feed last night and suddenly I have a demon in my brain telling me to write. Anyway, there is a horrendous lack of full fledged, non-smut fics for this man, so, here you go.

Summary: Your friend has been distant for months, all of a sudden he's a brand new man. He's practically a puppy dog following after you and you're not sure how to feel. What's a girl to do when she suddenly finds herself looking at not one, but two Clark Kent's?

“Have any plans?” You pull your English book from your locker, fingers stilling as you wait for Clark to respond. Silence stretches between you, long enough to make your brows furrow in confusion. Peering around the edge of your locker door with narrowed eyes, you let out a sigh. 

You should have seen this coming. As always, Clark is staring at Lana from across the hall, looking like he walked straight out of a sappy romance movie. 

She’s close, so close, but entirely out of his reach. She laughs, tucking a perfect, shiny strand of hair behind her ear, completely unaware of the way Clark pines for her. Always pining. Always looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world. 

You could gag. 

Slamming your locker shut, perhaps harder than necessary, you break Clark out of his trance as he flinches away from the noise. His head snaps toward you, blue eyes narrowed on the irritated scrunch of your face. You smile, forcing the snark out of your expression. 

“Did you say something?” His voice is kind, expression open, as though he’s finally ready to listen. But the bell rings, cutting into the moment. You only have a minute to sprint to the other side of school. 

“No,” you sigh, forcing the stilted smile to stay on your face, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he offers, falling into step beside you. “That way you can tell me what you actually said,” he teases, giving you that familiar boyish grin that never fails to make you unravel. 

You bite your tongue for a moment, mind unraveling as you struggle with telling him the truth or not. This is stupid. He’s Clark, your best friend. Your stupid, oblivious, beautiful best friend. But the way he looks at you, soft and warm as he slows his stride so he can walk together a little longer. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

No. It will definitely still hurt. 

“Would you want to do something this weekend?” You rush it all out at once and immediately look away from him, terrified by what you might see on his face. 

There’s a beat of silence. Then Clark laughs, light and easy. Your stomach twists and your head shoots up, a disbelieving glare on your face. You’d known it would be unlikely that he’d return your feelings, but laughing seems below him. 

“Why’re you being so weird?” He shakes his head, still grinning. “We’ll just do a movie night like always.” He squeezes your shoulder, casual, friendly, a wholly innocent gesture. Nothing more and nothing different. It’s completely platonic to him, as it always is. It takes you a moment to realize that he took what you were saying the wrong way. Or, maybe this is just the gentlest way he knows how to let you down. 

“Right,” you struggle to keep your voice even but it doesn’t matter, the dejection slips through your tone. His smile falters slightly and he looks like he wants to say something when the shrill ring of the bell interrupts you both.

“I’ll see you later,” he offers but he sounds uncertain. Most of your plans have fallen through lately. Either because he was busy with Lana or off disappearing somewhere. You’re not sure, but you know the divide is growing larger between you both and you’re getting scared you’re going to lose him. 

“Sure,” you give him a flat smile and he hovers beside you for a moment, like he wants to fix this but doesn’t know how. 

“You’re going to be late,” you startle slightly and glance over your shoulder. Blake, a boy you share your English class with offers you a shy smile as he hovers by the door, holding it open for you to walk through.  

“Thanks,” you walk past them both and into class, not wanting to look at Clark any longer. You miss the sharp look Blake shoots Clark and the way your friend lingers by the door for a minute before rushing off to his own class. 

You slide into your seat, lucky to have gotten in before Mrs. Brown, lord knows she would love to make a spectacle of anyone being tardy. Blake follows not far behind you, slipping into the seat beside you as always. He’s nice enough, quiet, unassuming. You’ve never said more than a few words to each other, but right now all of his attention seems to be on you. 

He whispers your name and you give him a brief glance and smile, mind still wrapped up in Clark. “Um, I was going to ask,” he stutters over his words for a moment, swallowing thickly before finally meeting your eye. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you answer absentmindedly. “I have plans with Clark,” you tell him shortly as Mrs. Brown walks in. You don’t have time to explain that you’ll probably just end up waiting around your house all weekend. Just to get a brief and incomprehensible explanation of why you were all alone on Monday. 

He sinks back in his seat with a sigh just as the teacher begins writing the assignment on the board. You shoot him a slightly concerned look before brushing the interaction off as nothing.

Standing in the line at The Talon has become almost a hobby for you. Not just because Clark drags you here constantly, but because he distracts Lana from actually taking any orders. The wait time seems to triple every time he walks into the shop. You hear people grumbling behind you and finally move toward Clark, breaking the unspoken rule of leaving him and Lana alone. 

“There’s a line, Clark,” you sing-song, warning him. The both of them flush, breaking their hushed conversation and shooting you a sheepish look. 

“I’m sorry,” Lana apologizes and you wave her off. “Do you want anything?” 

You’d been considering getting a muffin, but when you look over and see the lovesick smile Clark is giving her, you find your appetite has disappeared. “Uh, no, I’m good.”

Clark turns toward you with a soft frown and he nearly makes you forget just how much you resent him for dragging you along to see this. “I thought you were hungry.”

You glance back at Lana and find her eyes already on him. God, what’s the point of a breakup if you’re still obsessed with each other? “No, it’s alright.”

You move away from the counter to step outside, expecting him to stay there and continue flirting despite the angry customers behind them. You’re surprised when you hear his voice immediately beside you. 

“Hey,” he moves away from the door, a grin on his face. Face wrinkling in confusion, you nod your head in greeting even though you’d just seen him. Your eyes narrow in on the leather of his jacket and your head tilts in confusion. You swear he was wearing a zip up a moment ago. “What’re you doing?” He asks, tone light as he stands beside you closer than he normally would. 

“Uh,” you’re tempted to glance over your shoulder and make sure he isn’t still standing in The Talon. “Did you hit your head?” He flushes slightly and you laugh. “Just our usual friday endeavors, you moon over Lana and I hold back the mob of angry customers who just want a coffee.” Laughing to ease some of your own tension, it trails off when you see the smile drop from his face. 

His eyes narrow and he glances toward the shop, “Idiot,” he mutters. You shoot him an affronted look and he blanches, quickly correcting himself. “Me, not you.” You want to question him further but he slings an arm over your shoulder and redirects you away from the shop. Mind a blank slate, you feel your brain break slightly at the simple touch. 

When you were younger, before Lana, before either of you even knew what crushes were, something like this would mean nothing to you. As it is, though, your friendship seems to have dwindled to nothing but compulsory hangouts and the occasional conversation in the hallway. Something as simple as his arm around you has turned into everything for you. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Movies at your place, like usual,” you remind him. He must have slipped and hit his head on the way out of The Talon.  Either that, or he already forgot the plans you made just this morning. Neither would surprise you. 

His face screws up and he shakes his head, “God, that’s lame.” You scoff, shooting him an odd look, not bothering to remind him that it was his idea. “I mean what’s he-” 

Clark cuts himself off, glancing down at you before letting out a short laugh. “How ‘bout the fair?”

You reach up and press the back of your hand to his forehead. He gives you a bewildered laugh, taking your hand in his and grinning. “What are you doing?”

You lean back slightly, breathless at the awestruck way he’s looking at you. You’ve only ever seen him look at…

Lana, you’ve only ever seen a look like this directed at Lana. But now, those deep blue eyes are pulling you in and you feel helpless to fight them. You swallow hard, blinking while you try to remember what you were even going to say. 

“Uh,” licking your lips you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement. “I was seeing if you had a fever. Since when do you want to go out?” 

He laces your fingers together and tugs you forward, “Since now.” 

Usually, you’re not so quick to look a gift horse in the mouth. Months, you’ve been praying he treats you with even a semblance of care he throws toward Lana. Now, you finally get it and you can’t help the sick tightening feeling in your stomach telling you this is all wrong.

The fair is less crowded than you had expected. Though, it is nearly the last day it’s in town, you suppose everyone’s already had their fill of it. You have been trying to get Clark to come with you for nearly a week, maybe this is why he had waited so long to join you. Some of the rides you actually got all to yourself. 

“You know these things are rigged,” you tease, watching as he tries and fails at the bottle toss for the third time. The bored teenage girl behind the booth briefly glances up from her book to glare at you both. You shoot her a sardonic smile and she turns to Clark. 

“You can just buy the stuffed animal, ya know?” She drawls. 

“That’s cheating-”

“Where’s the fun in that-”

You and Clark share a grin as you speak over each other. The girl pales at your joined voices and returns quickly to her book, muttering something about annoying couples. 

Your stomach flutters at the idea of you and Clark as a couple but you push it down. “Alright,” Clark chuckles and holds his arm out for you, “let’s get out of here.”

You slip your arm through his easily, smiling up at him. You’ve long since stopped questioning just how touchy he is. Clearly, he’s in a generous mood tonight and you feel like taking advantage of that as much as possible.

“Where to next?” He asks and your eyes crawl across the fairground, struggling to find something you haven’t already done. 

You toss what must be your third lemonade in the closest bin and shoot him a sheepish smile. “I think I’ll need to go to the bathroom before we do any more rides.”

He’s slow to let you go, hand drifting down to hold yours as he steps back. “I’ll wait by the ferris wheel,” he tells you lowly. 

Your cheeks flush, eyes widening slightly as you slip away from him. The ferris wheel is notorious among Smallville students as the place to make a move. Everyone knows it’s just couples that ride up in those rickety old cars. Still, Clark is slightly oblivious to stuff like that. You don’t want to get your hopes up just for it to ultimately be nothing more than a friendly outing. 

Rushing toward the sad group of Port-a-potties you let out an annoyed sigh when you see the long line awaiting you. Your foot bounces against the dirt impatiently as you peer around the girl in front of you just to see there has to be, at least, ten people before you. 

There’s a vibration in your pocket before you hear the shrill ringing of your Nokia. Digging it out of your jeans you answer without checking the contact. “Hello?” The girl in front of you shoots you a dirty look and you take a step back from her. 

“Hey, where’re you?” You frown at the sound of Clark’s voice, glancing around like you might be able to spot him in the crowd. You’d told him where you were going, why would he be calling?

“You know where I am,” you tell him, chuckling. 

There’s a slight huff on the other end and you frown, he almost sounds disappointed. “What are you talking about? We were supposed to watch movies tonight.”

“Okay, Clark, I’m officially concerned. You’ve been acting weird all day. We’re at the fair,” you say slowly, over-enunciating your words like he’s slow. “You said movies were going to be lame.”

There’s a long pause and he utters your name in a concerningly serious tone. “The person you’re with-”

“Alright, do you mind?” The girl in front of you whips around and snaps at you. Blanching, you lower the phone from your ear and she shoots you an incredibly dirty look. 

“Clark, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you whisper into the phone. 

“Wait-” 

You cut him off, hanging up and shoving your phone in your back pocket. She turns back around and rolls her eyes. It doesn’t take long for your Nokia to start ringing again but you figure you’ll just meet Clark by the ferris wheel like he said. 

Low groaning drifts through the noises of the crowd and makes you pause. Tilting your head around the corner of a trailer, the sounds only grow louder. Everything inside you says not to investigate, but the person sounds like they’re genuinely in pain. You can’t just walk away. 

“Hey,” you call out softly. “Are you okay?”

There’s no response and you take a hesitant step closer. A scuffed white converse slips from behind the back of the trailer and it looks worryingly similar to Clark’s. “Clark?” You call out, creeping a little further into the dark. 

It’s like a cocoon of silence back here, as though the shadows swallow the voices and loud cheering sounds of the games beyond you. “No,” the small voice croaks out. You see a hand in the dirt and they begin dragging themselves forward. You jump back a step, heart picking up as you watch them get to their feet. 

This was a stupid idea, walking toward a stranger in the dark. Even in Smallville you couldn’t trust everyone. They finally turn and you let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, Blake, hey.”

He gives you a weak grimace, clutching his stomach like he’s in pain. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying to get a better look. 

“Fine, fine,” he stutters out, shifting just enough to keep his face half-hidden in the shadows.  Even knowing the person lurking within the shadows, you still feel slightly on edge. Something about the way he moves unsettles you. It’s not as though you know him well, he’s just a classmate. Someone quiet and harmless. Or, you hope he’s harmless, right now there’s something about him that feels wrong.

“Alright, um, if you’re sure,” you take a careful step backward. Your foot’s barely back on the ground when he lunges forward. His hands stretch toward you like he’s about to snatch you into the shadows with him. You’re stuck deciding whether you’re going to scream or bite him when he jerks back like a puppet being yanked on a string.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurts out, breathless. “Clark walked by. He- he told me to tell you he was leaving.”

Your stomach twists with panic. Right now you care more about not getting your throat slit in a dark alley than you do about Clark ditching you. Without a second thought, you turn on your heel and run out from between the trailers. You swear you hear footsteps, quick and light, following your path to the cars. 

Sliding into your car, you lock your doors and peel out of the lot. You leave the fair, and whatever just happened, behind, not looking back. The phone in your pocket vibrates again but you ignore it, too freaked out by what just happened to bother answering.  

Someone calls your name and you peer around the edge of your locker door, grimacing when you see Blake walking toward you. His brown hair is a mess, like he’s been fussing with it all morning, and his thick glasses, normally perched precariously on his nose, are nowhere to be seen. His normal polished clothes look like they’re three sizes too big and you frown.  

“Hey,” you drag the word out, trying to sound polite even if his outburst last night left you feeling incredibly unsettled. “Feeling any better?” You hesitate to meet his eyes, and when you do, your annoyance only deepens. 

He’s watching you expectantly, like he’s waiting for something. 

“Did you need anything?” You ask, voice trailing off as you close your locker and take two deliberate steps back. 

Blake’s brows furrow and he almost looks hurt before his expression smooths over into something startling unreadable. “Um, no, I’m sorry,” his gaze drifts past you. The color drains from his face and you barely have a second to process the oddity of this conversation before he turns on his heel and goes barrelling down the hall.

“Hey,” Clark’s familiar voice cuts through your confusion, and you turn to see him striding toward you. Gone is the easy, playful grin he wore last night. He looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, intent on something. “We need to talk,” he tells you, tone grave. 

“I know,” you snipe, not bothering to hide your irritation at just leaving you alone at the fair last night. You aren’t surprised, he’s been doing that for weeks now. What stings is that, for a little while, you had felt like you were actually friends again, only for him to ruin it. 

His brow furrows and he glances around the empty hallway with a frown. “Look, we can’t talk here, but-”

The warning bell rings, cutting him off. “Shit,” you mutter, shoving your books into your bag and turning away from Clark. He calls your name but you wave him off. “Later, Clark, I can’t be late again.” He watches you go with a frown, running a hand through his hair before turning toward his own class. 

Not even ten minutes later you spot him walking past Mrs. Brown’s room. Though, you swear he was wearing a red shirt not a green one. You could be wrong, it’s not as if you had long to take in his outfit.

You figure he’s just passing by and go back to taking your notes. There’s a light hiss from the door and you frown, looking up to see him hovering in the doorway and waving you forward. You glare toward Mrs. Brown’s back and shake your head. No way, you mouth. 

Clark gives you a pleading look, frowning and motioning you forward again. You know that look, you’ve been on the receiving end of it for years now. He’s clearly not going to let go of whatever  he was badgering you about this morning. 

“Can I go to the bathroom?” You call out, not bothering raising your hand. The old bat’s half-blind, you doubt she’d see it anyway. 

She answers without even bothering to turn around and face you. “If you need to use the restroom, you do so before my class,” her shaky voice calls out with a huff. 

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, stuffing your books in it as she turns back to the board. There’s no point in arguing with her, she’s never going to give in. You wait until she drops her eraser. The second she bends over to grab it, you’re bolting toward the door. Clark grabs your arm, dragging you behind him.

He makes a break for the end of the hall, blowing past the geometry class he’s meant to be in. He busts through the school doors and leads you quickly through the courtyard. “Clark,” you hiss, trying to hold back a laugh at the stupid grin on his face. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes alight with mischief, “Come on, you can’t tell me you actually want to listen to her rambling on about Shakespeare for an hour.”

You can’t argue with that, but he hasn’t done a jail bust for you in a while. Especially not during one of the few classes he shares with Lana. “No, I didn’t,” you pause as you realize he’s leading you to your car and not his truck. “Am I driving?”

“Truck didn’t start this morning,” he tells you shortly, not bothering with any further explanation. You swear you saw him drive in this morning but you could be wrong. It’s not like he’s the only kid driving his dad’s old busted truck in this town. “I’ll drive, though, you won’t know where we’re going.”

“Ominous,” you snark as he takes your hand in his, directing you toward the passenger door. Gentle hands push you up against the side of the car and he ducks down, leaning into your space. You crane your neck up, flushing slightly at the proximity. Any closer and you could kiss him. 

“Well?” He questions softly, lips curling up in a half-smile that makes you want to melt. You blink, forgetting what you were doing before you notice his outstretched, open, palm. Swallowing thickly you take your keys out of your bag and place them in his hand. “Thanks,” he ducks down, soft lips pressed against your cheek before rounding the front of the car. 

Your hand drifts toward your cheek, a bewildered smile on your face as you try and regulate your breathing. “What the hell?” You mutter, shaking your head slightly. Turning around, you open the car door and slip into the passenger seat. 

Clark greets you with a grin, scooping your hand up in his as he pulls out of the school parking lot. You don’t want to think about the trouble you’re going to be in tomorrow, all you can focus on is how good Clark’s hand feels in yours. 

“I’m really starting to feel like I’m getting kidnapped,” you joke, head tilting to look out the window. The golden fields stretch endlessly, rolling past in waves as the car gets further from town. Houses become scarce, replaced by sprawling farmland and grazing cattle. The further you go, the more isolated you feel. 

Clark chuckles, but there’s something off about the sound, a slight wheeze, a strain where there wasn’t before. His face crumples and he turns away from you, his knuckles turn white around the steering wheel from his tight grip. 

“Are you okay?” You reach instinctively toward him but he jerks his hand back. You gasp, jumping back when you catch a glimpse of his face. It ripples, the skin shifting unnaturally, as if something beneath it is struggling to break free. 

“Oh no,” Clark groans, voice strained. His entire body spasms and his hands slip from the wheel. The car lurches violently to the side, tires screeching against the pavement. Panic surges through you, hands bracing against the door as you shout his name. 

He curls into himself, muscles seizing, leaving the car veering out of control. The telephone pole ahead rushes toward you, growing larger by the second. You throw yourself forward, grasping at the wheel, desperately trying to steer, but Clark’s foot slams against the gas instead of the brake. 

Everything happens too fast. A blur flashes in front of the windshield. Then, a sudden stop. Your body flies forward, arms bracing against the dashboard as your head whips forward and back, pain rattling through your spine. 

You whine in discomfort, slowly sitting up and trying to take in your surroundings. The passenger door is ripped open. You flinch, recoiling instinctively and sending a shock of pain down your body. Your breath stutters as someone ducks their head inside, a startling familiar pair of blue eyes find yours.  

“Clark?” You whisper, gaze flicking to the seat beside you where Clark still sits, doubled over, his breathing ragged. 

The Clark outside the car reaches in and gently pulls you out. Warm, calloused hands skate carefully over your arms and shoulders. He cups the back of your neck, tilting your head up, thumbs gently smoothing over your jaw as he looks you over. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is soft, thick with concern. His eyes briefly leave yours to double check you for any injuries he might have missed. 

Your heart pounds. This isn’t possible. You must be concussed. You blink rapidly still struggling to wrap your head around the whole two Clark’s thing when the second one stumbles out of the car. 

He steps are uneven as he rounds the fender, his entire body shaking. Your rescuer moves swiftly, placing himself between you and the other Clark. He shields you, broad shoulders tense, protective to a fault. Must be the real one. Right? You rub your aching head and frown. 

“What were you going to do with her?” The one in front of you barks the question out, his voice sharp and edged with something dangerous.

“I just,” the other one keels over, cutting himself off with a pained groan and shaking his head. “Wanted to get away,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forcing himself straight again. 

“And you had to take her with you?”

“What’s going on?” You jut in, stepping back from both of them. Facing them, you see the same wounded expression reflected on both faces. Whichever is the fake, he’s certainly mastered the puppy dog look. 

Your rescuer tries to take a step forward but you throw your hand up, keeping them both at bay until you know what’s going on. He sighs and glances over at his shoulder at the other one.  “How long have you been able to do this?” 

It's like they start a conversation in the middle and you’re completely lost.  “Last year, I never saw a use for it and it was too much of a pain. But then I realized,” he looks at you, face contorting. “You would never go for a guy like me. You couldn’t. You were too wrapped up in him,” he spits the word out with venom, nodding toward the Clark you know has to be the real one. 

“You love him and that stupid all-American smile.” He chuckles, but it breaks off into a groan as he doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach. He drops to his knees and moans through clenched teeth, clutching at his face as he folds over. The longer black hair shrinks to a dull brown, broad shoulders slimming as the clothes he wears hang loose on him.

The illusion shatters, “Oh, God, Blake?” You gasp out, taking one step toward him. He shakes his head and you stop as Clark grabs your elbow. You glance up at him but he just shoots you a soft look that has you rooted to the spot. 

“I’ve been in love with you since freshman year,” Blake chuckles, still sounding like every word hurts. “If only I figured it out earlier, it’s always going to be him. I never had a chance, did I?” His gaze flickers toward Clark before he collapses to the pavement. 

You both go running toward Blake. Pressing your trembling fingers to his neck, you let out a sigh of relief when you feel his faint heartbeat. 

“We need to get him to a hospital, fast.” You lean back from Blake, looking around for Clark’s truck, confused when you don’t see it. “Dammit, Clark, where's the truck?”

He flushes, shaking his head, “I didn’t bring it.”

You frown, “What’re you talking about?” 

He glances toward Blake, the rise and fall of his chest steadily slowing. When he looks back at you his expression is unreadable, an intensity to it that you’ve never seen before. “I need you to trust me.”

“Always,” you tell him without missing a beat. He gives you a small smile but it lacks the usual warmth. 

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” You glare at him but he just shakes his head. 

“Please,” he looks close to begging and the pulse under your grip is getting weaker. Swallowing down your confusion you close your eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers, “I’ll be back.”

You frown, feeling a rough breeze blow back your hair as your eyes shoot open. But the spot in front of you is empty and the body under your hand has disappeared. Getting to your feet, you spin in one slow circle. There’s nothing out here except golden fields, your totaled car, and you. All alone. 

Clark eventually came back for you. His truck rolling into view after being on your own for half an hour. You hadn’t talked to him the whole ride back to town, too shocked by everything that had happened. 

He carried the conversation for the both of you, offering a brief explanation that only confused you more. Blake had apparently been one of the meteor freaks, somehow being exposed to it when it had left a crater in your town. 

But Clark didn’t tell you how he made it across the highway and to the hospital in under five minutes with no car. He didn’t tell you anything that actually mattered. So, you told him to drop you off at home and you haven’t seen him in a week. 

Chloe had called you once during your self-induced isolation, just to tell you that she’d driven by Blake’s house. Apparently the entire place looked like it had been cleaned out. No sign of him or his parents anywhere. You wish you could say you care, but you don’t. You’re almost grateful he’s gone. Not only did he reveal your long held secret infatuation to Clark, he’d clearly had ill intentions as he tried to take you out of town. 

Your Nokia nearly buzzes itself off your nightstand as you set your book to the side and look at the all-too familiar contact.

Clarkie

The stupid nickname you’d given him in middle school lights up the small screen and you let out a rough sigh, watching as it rings and rings before finally quieting. The screen goes dark before lighting up once more as his ringtone fills the silence of your room. He doesn’t give up easily, you have to give him that. 

You’re not entirely sure you’re ready to face him. Not now that he knows about your feelings for him. There’s no hiding what Blake so plainly laid out for him. You sink into the comforts of the pillows on your bed and wonder if you could just live here forever. 

Something knocks against your window and you ignore it as nothing more than a branch from the tree. It’s not much longer before it happens again and you rip your hands off your face and are forced to sit up. Your phone rings once more and there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that you know exactly who waits outside your window. 

“You can’t hide forever,” comes an annoying cheerful voice from outside. You force yourself off your bed and slink toward your window. Sure enough, Clark waits below it, a boyish grin poised on his face as he looks up at you. As much as you’re avoiding him, it’s plain cruel to just leave him outside. 

Reluctantly, you open your window and he’s quick to climb your tree. You back up as he slots his broad frame through and into your room. He lets out a short huff of breath and straightens up, giving you a sheepish smile. 

Taking a seat on your bed, you find it a tad difficult to look at him. Clark sucks in a deep breath and grabs your desk chair. He straddles it, resting on the back of it and staring at you until you feel like he’s going to burn holes into the side of your face. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You hum and shrug, tucking a loose wave behind your ear. “I’ve been sick,” you lie, briefly looking up. The intense way he’s looking at you leaves you breathless and you have to take in a slow breath so your heart doesn’t kick up too much.  

“I want to tell you something.” Your head shoots up, concern lacing through you at the grave tone of his words. He looks away from you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, actually, I want to ask you something first. Is, uh,” he chuckles a little and licks his lips, a nervous tick he’s never been able to kick. “Is all that stuff that Blake said true?”

Your stomach drops, burying your face in your hands, you let out a low groan. “Oh, god,” you suck in a sharp breath, unable to look at him as heat flushes through you. 

Lying is always an option. It’s a poor option, but it’s there. Maybe, if you just lied straight through your teeth he would drop it and leave you alone. But you’ve been hiding this for so long, tucked so tightly to your chest, it would be a relief to finally be unburdened of the truth. 

“Yes,” you whisper. You don’t want to look at him, don’t want to face the truth of his rejection. Clark has been your best friend since you could walk, losing him over this stupid crush would destroy you. 

The silence drags on for too long and you feel the anxiety calling its way around you. Warmth envelops your hands and calloused palms draw them away from your face. 

You peek one eye open to find Clark kneeling before you, a soft smile on his face. “You better not be laughing at me, Kent.”

A small chuckle slips through his lips and you slap at his shoulder. He catches your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I’m not, I promise. I wish you’d told me.”

“Why? So I could ruin our friendship faster?” You snark. 

“No, so I could do this,” he darts forward, soft lips capturing yours. You freeze up, eyes wide as his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. 

There’s a brief moment of shock where you’re completely frozen. But then you feel the way his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand. And you find yourself melting into the feeling of his embrace, eyes closing as you slowly open up to him. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying themselves in the soft waves of his hair. 

The kiss itself is gentle, chaste almost. But it warms you from the inside out, makes you feel like you’re going to be nothing but a puddle of goo the longer he holds you. When he pulls back, he drags it out, lips lingering as long as they can. 

You’re slow to recover, eyes glazed over as you stare at him. He seems just as shocked, like he hadn’t expected to do that. Of course, you say the first thing that comes to mind instead of just shutting up and enjoying the moment. “What about Lana?” You blurt out, wincing the second it leaves your mouth. 

He frowns at you and shrugs, “What about her?”

“You’ve been blowing me off for months for her. We go to her shop every day just so you can stare at her. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly discovered feelings for me. I won’t be your backup, Clark.”

He shakes his head vehemently, looking almost offended by the idea. “What? No. Of course you’re not,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you before sinking back on his heels with a huff. “Look, I wasn’t ditching you for her, I can explain all that,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “later.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and he reaches up, taking your hands in his. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. But the most important thing is that I am completely over Lana.”

“Really?” You question, tone harsh but bordering almost on teasing. “You look at all your friends like that?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he pauses, “just you,” he adds with a cheeky smirk. You roll your eyes and shake your head, looking away from him. “Whatever you thought you saw between us, it was only on her end. I swear, it’s been you for a long time.”  

You look away, but he’s not accepting that, tilting your chin to face him once more. “It’s always been you,” he murmurs, voice steady, certain.

Your breath hitches, heart stuttering in your chest. Maybe this is real. Maybe it’s been you that’s been the oblivious idiot. 

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze head-on. “Then prove it.”

His smile is slow, confident, and this time when he leans in you don’t hesitate to meet him halfway.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

A Dare’s a Dare

Elliot x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut smutt & also a try at some plot…pray he never sees this

a/n: whew…hey guys. long time no SEE! it’s been a hot minute & i’m so sorry about that. please accept this gift as an apology…i didn’t even mean to make this so long, & i definitely still need to make corrections, but alas, here we are. please enjoy & maybe leave a comment? i love reading your guys reactions/thoughts! :)

a/a/n: wait, also, can we talk about cochella? because i was SAT! mama’s boy is already my favoritee. ok, sry, enjoy <3

¥

One of the lightbulbs in the bathroom flicker as you lean down to sniff a line of coke off the porcelain sink. Then it blows out. You told Elliot weeks ago that it needed to be replaced, but as usual, his “I’ll get to it.” gets lost in all the other bullshit he spews. 

Throwing your head back, you scrunch your nose and sniff. Not yet used to the burn.

Unrolling the five-dollar bill, you shake it out and shove it in your pocket. He left it in the bathroom for you anyway. You do a quick sweep around to make sure there’s nothing that can show what’s been going on in here, swipe the powder off your tight long sleeve, and walk out. 

The music that was once muffled behind the door is now clear as you sway to the beat on your way back into Elliot’s room, Jules and Rue sitting on his bed with a joint between Rue’s lips. 

“Ooo, that the vanilla backwood–” You start, then stop when warm hands grab your face, and your lips are pressed against another pair. It happens so fast that you barely have time to process it before the warm body moves away. You stumble and look up. 

Elliot. 

Keep reading

house of balloons, elliot x reader

synopsis: at a frat party, you fall right into elliot's mysterious and enticing web, and both of you share two desires: sex, and drugs—a recipe for disaster. warning(s): smut (minors dni!!!), college!au, frat boy!elliot, canon ages (over 18), mentions of drug use (c*caine), sexual acts, intoxication, masturbation (fem receiving), praise kink author's note: i think this is one of my favorite imagines... and if the smut sucks i'm sorry x. it's my first time writing it, give me a break. not proofread. wc: 1.6k

Partying was the only way you knew how to take your mind off of the series of woeful ordeals that seemed to always happen to you. Your other remedies? Drugs and sex. To be frank, you couldn’t have one without the other. 

When Maddy extended her invitation to tag along with her and her friends to a frat party, you couldn’t help but enthusiastically accept. You partied with them before and enjoyed yourself, so you figured it wouldn’t hurt to join them once again. 

Now here you were, occupying a spot on the wall, sipping your drink and scoping the scene. The house was packed with intoxicated college students in their twenty-somethings, dancing the night away knowing that the following morning they have classes to attend. 

That was the beauty of university. The fact that if you needed to let loose, you could garner the right connections and ditch your sorrows for the night then bury them. 

Maddy and Cassie were singing their hearts to the song blasting on the speakers on top of the table, catching everyone’s attention. The crowd surrounding them was singing along. Until the DJ abruptly switched the song. It was then you realized quickly what you didn’t like about frat parties, you loathed the music they played. 

The song was so bad that you quickly pushed yourself off the wall and tried to find the nearest empty bedroom. Clutching your cup, you squeeze you past the living room and snuck into the foyer. A DO NOT ENTER sign was plastered on the glass door that separated the rooms, bolded and in red ink. 

Ignoring the sign and quickly glancing around you, you slowly opened the door, and tip-toed through and into the foyer. It was much quieter now that you moved away from the speakers. Your curiosity peaked once you noticed the spiral stairwell, so you walked near the steps and went up to explore the rest of the house. 

There were so many rooms in one hallway, you couldn’t pick, but you settled on the third to the right. You didn’t hear any noise when you pressed your ear against the door, and you assumed it’d be safe to go in.

It was a typical college boy’s bedroom, nothing really out of the ordinary. Cartoon posters, and basketball jerseys on plaques hanging above the king-size bed. The desk was piled with textbooks and loose pieces of paper, as well as other miscellaneous office supplies. And although the desk was messy, the floor of the room was surprisingly clean, almost as if the owner regularly cleaned it.

A clean frat boy is, without a doubt, a rare occurrence.

You became so entranced with examining this random person’s bedroom that you hardly noticed the toilet in the connecting bathroom flush. You jump as a figure emerges from the bathroom, and you are met with his slightly startled brown eyes and dirty-blonde outgrown hair.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked

“Who the fuck are you?” you quickly rebuttal. You realized it was a stupid question to ask, considering that he may or may not be the owner of this room and you invaded it, but you were drunk and high off of two whole blunts. Everything from when you finished your last cup to now was hazy, but not enough to lead you completely incoherent.

“You’re in my room, you’re not even supposed to go past the sign on the door.”

“I’m aware,” you reply, trekking towards his bed and plopping on the edge, “The music sucked so I wanted to get away.”

“You could've gone outside,” he furrowed his brows at you while you ran your hands on the bed.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t…” your voice trailed off as your gaze diverted from the little doodles you were drawing on his blanket and up at his. It didn’t take long for you to notice how dilated his pupils were.

You shot up off the bed and walked closer to him, “You happen to know anybody that can hook me up?”

His eyes stayed on yours as you approached them, and his face went from confused to perplexed at the drop of a hat. A slight smirk ticked at the corner of your lip and you knew you had hit the jackpot.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, looking off to the side with a small grin.

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Oh come on, you can’t fool me. I know a plug when I see one.”

His eyes widened shockingly and chuckled at your comment, “Wow, now I’m being profiled by the random girl who snuck into my room asking for drugs?”

“Wow, now I’m being judged by the boy pretending not to be a drug dealer?” you playfully shot back at him, with a tilt in your head and crossing your arms.

Another laugh escaped both his and your lips and you spun on your feet and went back to glancing around the room, “Your room is nice… typical… but nice. And your blanket is fun to draw on.”

“Thanks, random girl who snuck into my room.” you could hear his shoes tapping against the wood floor as he followed you, supposedly making sure you didn’t find what you were looking for.

But apparently, this man could read minds, because when you turned back around he was staring at you with a tight-lipped smile on his face and waving a baggy of white powder in the air, “Is this what you’re looking for.”

You narrowed your brows at him and hummed, “Perhaps… perhaps it is.”

He inched closer to you, a little too close, and toyed with the baggie near your face, “You’re cute.” Was all he said after running the bag across your lips and then walking back toward the bathroom.

“Just cute? Not hot, sexy, beautiful, gorgeous, stunning,” you trailed off.

“Hot? Nobody says that anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I do,” You looked around for the bathroom and went inside, watching as he swiftly snorted a line off of the counter, “That was hot.”

He skimmed up at you with a smirk, “Want some?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” you said, entering the bathroom, not breaking the contact that you made with his eyes. They were seductive. Enticing, even. Just the mere glance was enough to send you over the edge. But you kept your composure, breaking the contact when you peeked down at the line that he cut just for you.

A smile etched your face as you plugged your right nostril with your freshly manicured nails, leaned lower toward the countertop, and snorted the contents through your other nostril.

The rush hit your body almost instantly, sending eclectic waves up and down your spine. The feeling was entirely too euphoric to explain, but you knew that you had snorted quality cocaine.

You turned around and glanced at yourself in the mirror, disregarding him leaning in the doorway, just watching you, “You’re creeping me out, boy with no name.”

“Elliot.” He muttered, still watching you. 

You spun around and leaned against the counter, “Thanks for the coke, Elliot.”

The room fell silent, all that could be heard was the slight thumping against the floor from the loud music playing downstairs. You were enjoying this quiet, yet awkward sexual tension that filled the air. 

It was confusing because the silence normally wouldn't weird you out enough to leave, but for some reason, this silence was reeling you in a different direction. A direction that made your body hot and steamy, waiting for him to touch you with his ring-stacked fingers.

That was put to a halt when your vision started drifting elsewhere and you felt his body moving closer to yours, “I guess we’re skipping the formalities,” you mumbled as he cupped your behind and placed you on top of the counter.

His lips softly connected with the flesh on your neck, “I guess so.” He placed kisses along your jawline and then met your lips. You threw your arms on his shoulders and allowed his hands to roam free along the lower half of your body.

He kissed you with so much passion, that you would've thought you were the love of his life and not a random girl in search of drugs like he had said before.

His hand abruptly latched on the hem of your skirt and slowly pulled it down, but his lips never met yours. You noticed that he was a really good kisser. Good enough to make you mewl when he nibbled on your bottom lip.

His fingers danced along your sides, then between your thighs. He took his thumb and began rubbing on your bud through your panties, causing your breathing to hitch. You leaned your body back against the mirror and watched as he began picking up the pace.

He continued to rub circles on your clit and lifted his free hand to your chin, “Look at me, okay?”

You responded with a nod and a pleasurable moan. You tried to keep your eyes on his but as he continued to go faster and faster, you could feel your legs start to quiver.

“Damn, your moans are cute too,” He said with a smile on his face, “And the face you make when you’re about to cum.”

You felt it coming. You knew it was coming. The closer it was the more your head started to loll backwards. 

“I’m about to–”

“I know, baby,” he cut you off and sped up the circular motions his fingers were making on your sensitive bud, “You can cum. Go ahead, be a good girl, and cum for me.”

And just like that, you became undone against his ringed fingers and breathing heavily. Elliot licked his fingers clean and then pulled you off the counter and engulfed you in a tongue-filled kiss.

“I don’t even know your name,” he said when you broke the kiss.

“You don’t have to.”