Falling For You

can you do a small peter blurb (doesn’t have to be smutty) where you wake him up at like 3 in the morning bc you woke up randomly super horny so you’re just like “peter… peter wake up” “…huh? what are you okay?” “can we have sex?” “…like… now?” “yeah.” PLEASE I NEED ITTTT

im obsessed with this tysm for the request! NSFW suggestive but not graphic x

Streetlight filters in through the slats of your blinds and illuminates Peter in broad white light. His arm, muscled, pale, is stretched over the small gap between you, his hand on your hip. You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, rub your entire face clean with your palms. 

It takes you a few seconds to realise why you're awake, and when you do you can't ignore it. You look at Peter's hand in your lap and figure, what's the worst he can do? Say no? 

"Peter…" you trail off, feeling a little guilty for waking him in the middle of the night. Then you think about his hands on your legs and persevere. "Peter, wake up." You say it like a question, more of a suggestion than a command.

His eyes scrunch up as he comes to, lifting his head off of the pillow. "What? What's wrong?" His voice is thick with sleep. You push the fluffy hair from his eyes and give him what you hope is your softest smile. "Are you okay?" he asks, blinking as his bleary eyes open fully.

You don't mince words, worried you'll wussy out. "Can we have sex?" 

He looks like he might laugh, endeared at your request, and it takes him a little while to answer. "Like… now?" 

"Yeah." 

There's no way he could miss the amorous twist in your tone, and he doesn't. His eyes light up, his lips quirk. 

"If you want to. Please," you whisper. 

"So polite," he murmurs, turning from his side to lie flat on his back. He holds his arms open. "C'mere."

Your excitement surges up in a breathless giggle.You almost throw yourself onto his chest, needling your arms around the back of his neck. You hold your face an inch from his and you're gifted his own lovely laugh as you lean down. 

"You're so pretty," he tells you, cupping the side of your face in his big palm.

"I love you." It bursts out of you, accidental but completely true. 

He tilts in response, your kisses slow and sweet. His hands wrap around you, tighten. You feel the heat of a thousand suns in your tummy as they move down, smiling against his mouth.

"I love you too," he says, full of fondness, his hand closing around the back of your thigh. He hikes your leg up, pulling your knee forward. You drop your head into his neck as he touches you, his lips in your hair as he says playfully, "Let me show you how much, yeah?" 

ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ; ᴀᴏ‘ɴᴜɴɢ xᴏᴍᴀᴛɪᴋᴀʏᴀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: You and Ao‘nung are on your way to collect special fruits for an Assembly of the Mitkayina Clan, but things are getting weird and… hot?

Warnings; Fluff, Kissing, sexual …talk? Enemies to Lovers, mentions of death (hate that) lol thats it enjoy

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"Aonung wait." I hissed, kicking some leaves out of the way. Below me the wet grass between my toes. We must have been walking for almost an hour now and the bag in which I was collecting the fruit for the Metkayina assembly almost overflowed. "What's the matter? Can't you keep up?" Ao'nung taunts and swings over a tree trunk closely followed by me, who somehow struggles over it. 

I was sure we'd had enough and all this fuss was just to annoy me. After all, I was allowed to carry the heavy bag, although he always talked about how strong he was. Idiot. With ease he pushed some branches to the side which then almost killed me. I was angry and I wanted to push him off a cliff. After I had overcome the last dangers that Ao'nung had exposed me to, we entered a sandy beach. Almost a bay I would say. The waves hit the rocks and far behind I recognized the spot where our ilus were waiting for us.

"You're kidding me, aren't you? We could have just come here straight away, then we would have saved ourselves the difficult journey." I snapped spitefully. Me and Ao'nung have always had our...differences. In the beginning he was really likeable to me, until he became an absolute ass. After Neteyam's death he dropped this whole macho scam and I was free from him insulting me everyday but I'm still being screwed 24/7 until I can't anymore. Fine, from time to time I'll take revenge and sometimes it's even funny. Still, I can hardly judge Ao'nung at all.

"Don't get so upset, the way is the goal." he laughs and sets off into the bushes to pick whatever I'm allowed to carry anyway in the end. Rolling my eyes, I put the bag down and stretch. A moment later, Ao'nung comes back out of the bushes. He walks over to me at the end of the beach and holds out a pink prickly fruit. I look at them both skeptically and raise an eyebrow.

"Thanks, but I'm poisoning myself." I decline with a grin. But Ao'nung doesn't let go of me, pulls out his knife, cuts off a piece and puts it in his mouth. "Something of poisoned." he whispers, dramatically holding his stomach. I suppress my laughter and just roll my eyes. Again he cuts off a piece and puts it in front of my mouth. "here." I try to reach for it but he pulls his hand away. "I thought you wanted me to try?" I ask. "Yes-but not that you hurt yourself." Only now do I recognize the barbs on the shell. However, he doesn't seem to mind. "bite off."

Somehow I don't really feel comfortable with it, but I bit it off and felt his cold fingers. Juice dripped from my chin, which Ao'nung brushed away with a gentle movement, and then licks his finger. I freeze, barely able to breathe. I was beyond confused, and somehow, …suprised."

" swallow." he breathes softly and raises his eyebrows. My head is a red room full of panic signs that glow brighter than neon lights. "wa-what" I bring out with my mouth full. "I said swallow." I get goosebumps. At no point did I think that Ao'nung's words could provoke a reaction of this kind, but I press my legs together and swallow the sweet fruit. Ao'nung eyes wander up and down my body, knowing what that just was. Funny, I would also like to know that. I swallow again.

"Do not look at me like that." I command him. "How am I looking at you?" smiling, he takes a step towards me, his eyes look deep into mine. "N- well the way you're looking at me. Stop that." "I can not." he blurts out.

Fuck. I think to myself, undecided whether I should just kiss him or run away. Then being confused because of my own thoughts. Ao'nung was all flirtation... just not usually with me. "You know, then just turn around or-" I keep getting quiet until my air to breathe is replaced by Ao'nung's lips. While I still hold my hands in the air in surprise, Ao'nung throws away the knife in his hand and grabs my waist. I reflexively wrap my hands around his neck.

The moment he lays me down on the sand, I forget all my principles and pull him down to me. I feel the cold sand beneath me, Ao'nung hands in my hair. I pull away from him, breathing heavily.

He just grins, with those cute dimples and his perfect eyes. "okay that was… quick." I gasp, trying to cover my nervousness with a laugh that only makes it more obvious. "fast?" he asks, looking at the air thinking. "Well, this is the first time you've let me get closer than a foot without hitting me, you're actually pretty slow today." embarrassed, I put my hand in front of my face. His confident flirting makes me more than nervous. "Don't talk such nonsense, there were at least a two." He licks his lips and presses another kiss on my lips. "You could hit me right now and I'd still want you, not gonna lie."I clench my teeth tightly and still roll my eyes in shock at what just happened.

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Send in what you want me to write:)

Confessions ✧ Fezco x Reader

A/N - Can someone pls tell me how to add a keep reading lol i’ve forgotten and i can find it online, on mobile btw thank you!!!

✎ Word count - 3,413

✩ Genre - Fluff, gets a little steamy lol

❀ Warnings - Mentions of sex

Fez was never good with words. He always struggled to put how he was feeling in his heart exactly in the right vocabulary. He always spoke with purpose, never saying anything he didn't completely believe or not mean. He was completely impeccable with his word. As your relationship developed though, he struggled to settle with just hugs and kisses, he yearned to tell you more. To tell you the truth. To tell you he thought you made his world rotate and the sun come up every morning. To tell you he trusted you with his life and loved you more than it. To tell you he wanted you forever and even after that. But for him, it was just so hard. Since he was born he always lacked physical touch, he lacked being told he was loved even more. So once he had grown up, all these things were a struggle to him. All the more when you entered his life, giving him new meaning and experiences every second you were around. Though tonight he decided it would have to change. You knew it was difficult for him, giving him plenty of time to say what he needed, unfortunately he didn't know that though. The knock on his door shook him out of his affectionate thoughts and he knew the sound off by heart. He rushed over to the door, opening it with ease to see you there, sheltering yourself with your hoodie from the Californian downpour.

"hey!" you greeted cheerfully, a paper bag of takeout in your dripping hand. He smiled, shyly as he let you inside, you immediately stripping off the damp clothes. He watched you as you dropped the bag onto the couch before going over to him to give him a hug. He almost accepted at first before pulling away quickly.

"Nah get off you're soaked!" He laughed, pulling away with out hesitation, a huge smile now growing on his freckled face.

"What do you mean? i'm dry as a desert." You replied back, laughing. Then shaking your head side to side like a kanine making all the raindrops run down your hair to the ends, splashing him.

"yo, hold up a minute! stop!" He raised his voice, lunging to the side to get away from the fallout. He began pacing away from you but you weren't gonna let him get away that easy. A mischievous look on your face as you strode after him again, trying to wrap your soaked through body around his. You made a lap or two around the 70s decor room before he had a enough. "Right that's it!" He decided, crouching down in front of you and before you realised, picking you straight up in a fireman's lift and throwing you over his broad shoulder. You waist was tickled by his firey beard as your whole weight was taken by him.

"Fez! Put me down!" You giggled, punching light fists into his back. Grabbing onto his white tee.

"No chance." He treaded through the house making a b line for the bathroom. He plonked you delicately on the tiles, a playful smile littering his lips and he leant past you for the shower head. A gasp left your throat but before you could say anything he'd turned the dial and you were now being coated in threads of ice cold water.

"No!" You shouted a grin plaster on your face as you tried to wrestle the shower head of him. He just laughed back at you, with a firm grip on the weapon.

"Do you submit?" He interrogated, the curl on his lips not faltering for a second.

"Yes! Yes! Please stop!" You pleaded, hands in front of your face to somewhat stop it from drenching you more than you were before. He let out a chuckle as he turned the dial back to zero and swung back round to see the damage. There you stood, head to toe with hair that had grown a good length and see through clothes that clung to your body in crescents. He looked you up and down, noticing he could slightly see your areoles through your saturated tee and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take a mental picture. A small wash of guilt washed over him as he saw your shoulders tense up, arms crossed over your body as your teeth began to chatter away. "Let's get you in some warm clothes." He smiled, handing you a towel before leaving the room briefly. you quickly covered yourself with the old, slightly grey cloth. The fibres quickly sending a chill down your spine before beginning to feel warmer. He returned with some boxers and a tee, placing them down on the only part of the counter that was dry and then turning to you. He rubbed his large freckled hands up and down your sides to help warm you up slightly before you both stop. He takes the towel from your grasp and you go to strip your t shirt off. The material is heavy and adheres to your curves but you shortly win the battle. He watches over you, not blinking as he watches you remove the shirt. His eyes nervously watching as your breasts bounce at the motion. "Shit.." He curses quietly under his breath, his eyes lay low and you watch his curled eyelashes blink once, his face full of admiration and desire. You just shake you head as you take the towel from him again, rubbing over your body before he takes it back without words. You grab the spare grey tee, pulling it over your head now you were dry and pulling your damp hair out the back. His eyes burn holes, making sure to watch your chest for as long as possible before it was covered up again.

"My eyes are up here!" You joke, afterwards you take off your jeans and pants, him sheepishly spinning around to give you somewhat privacy. He was afraid he crossed a line. "It was a joke Fez." You laugh, putting on his clean, white boxers as he turned back around, you now fully dressed. A smile adorns your lips and he mirrors you perfectly. "Let's eat that food before it gets cold." You say, moving towards the door as you notice his tongue peeping through his teeth. He follows behind you quickly as you jump on the couch. ripping open the bag on your lap as he sits next to you politely. You share the food equally, lying your heads back with hands on your stomach at the indulgence. The dealer turns on the remote, selecting some random action film on a channel as you cosy up. He instinctively places an arm around your shoulder and you hold his large hand. He presses a kiss to your temple, then check and you flush at the touch, his lips transferring a fuchsia glow to you. You were drawn closer, folding into his lap so you could lay your head on his warm thigh, covered in his sweatpants.

"You warmer now?" He asks briefly, rubbing small circles in your palm as his other hand was gently resting in your hair.

"Not thanks to you." You laugh lowly, thankful you were in dry clothes again.

"Stop playin." He adds before you go back to silence, the only sounds playing from the tv. He held you close, treasuring the feeling of your head resting on him, your small, soft hand held by his large warm ones. He traces your hands down to brush along your exposed thigh. He couldn't focus on the film, but only you and how much he adored you. He couldn't keep his hands off. Afterwards he bring your hand up to his mouth, where he takes your hand in both of his. Your elbow bent for ease of position. Lightly, he pulls it up to his lip where he lays a few light kisses along your knuckles before he keeps it there, his breath streaming down though your knuckles and down the back of your hand like veins.

"Fez baby, are you okay?" You ask sensitively but tired in a velvety calm voice. A voice like music to his ears.

"Uh yeah." He replies, confused as to why you'd pick up on anything.

"It's just you're being so clingy tonight." You laugh softly, not hating the feeling.

"Oh shit was I? Do you want me to stop?" He asks a slightly sad flicker in his voice. His body tensing up as he moves your hand away from his lips.

"Not at all." You reply quickly pulling both your arms into your chest to keep him close as his spare one dropped down again. You lay some kisses to his hand this time. lightly over every auburn freckle you could see. He relaxed into the movement, a sigh leaving his chest.

"There's sommin I wanna tell you." He admits gingerly, tagging your name onto the end. He sits there, heart pounding in his chest as he deepens his breaths, trying to calm his heart rate.

"Sure baby." You return, in a tranquil tone. You could feel his nervousness but didn't want to push him.

"It's just I-I.." He stuttered, trailing off. The words seemingly caught in his throat. He cursed himself for not making a plan before hand. He sighed again as you began to rub him soothingly to calm his nerves.

"Don't worry baby, you can take your time." You eased his worry as he let out another sigh frustrated with himself. Now annoyed, in a pleasantly subdued manner he lifts you up so your now sat next to each other again. He waste no time in pulling your legs over his and leaning into your lips. You were surprised at the action but quickly melted in to him. His speckled hand came up to your face, holding you firmly as you kissed tenderly and slow. His cold, gold rings stinging your inflamed cheeks. He passionately moved his lips and swiped your bottom lip a few times. He then moved his hand to your waist pulling you so you were straddling on his lap as he tugged you into his hold, your bodies aligned as one. You could tell what he was trying to say. You always knew how his mind worked about this thing, he could show his love but struggled to say it. Struggled to say all the deep and emotional things he felt inside him as he never learnt how. You tried to put his mind at ease with a "Fez it's okay, I know." You cooed. You knew he cared for you, you knew he loved you. Yes you would love to hear it, but if it was too painful for him to say, you didn't mind his lack of words. He looked back, his brows knotted together and a pained look on his beautiful face. His lips were pink and swollen in a small frown. You looked back with a sad and worried smile, watching him closely. His eyes drew glossy as he shook his head, unsatisfied. He moved in again, pressing his forehead to your own and kissing harder this time, with more aggression. His hand grabbed on to your upper back as the length of his forearm ran down your spine, trying to hold you as closely as possible. He soon carried you into the bedroom, Your legs wrapped around his middle as he lovingly put you in his sheets. Your contact not breaking for a second. You'd never seen him like this, so tender and unravelled. You feared what was running through his mind, was he safe? You kissed him back, matching his passion and longing. He then lay down, pulling you on top of him as he went to your neck smothering you in kisses.

"Baby I-" He breathed for a second, his head still tucked into your neck. He let out a disheartened groan so you pulled a hand up to stroke his shaved head. The groan rumbled through his chest into your neck, you could feel his frustration. You knew how much this meant to him but also the torment it put him through. He continued to intensely kiss you all over, his arms holding you so tight like some how you'd drift away. You pulled away and he looked up at you, a perturbed look across his face. His big blue eyes looking at you through his thick long lashes, full of concern. Your heart ruptured at the view.

"Shhh.. my love." You whispered. His eyebrows slightly dropped from there agitated state and he relaxed, defeated. His head then almost dropped before you lifted it again with one hand. You kissed him with care one last time before shuffling across the bed and pulling his head onto your chest. His weight was heavy but you didn't mind, you ached for the feel of him trusting you and having all his walls pulled down. He melted into the embrace his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you securely as you cradled his head with both arms, slowly stroking him to ease his worry. "Shhh, baby. I got you." you hushed. He demeaner was sorrowful and you could almost hear his heart snapping. It took years off your life to hear the sound. He lay in your warmth his tears welling up in his eyes but he didn't let them descend. He praised you for what you did to him, how far you had got through his hard exterior. Soon you both fell asleep as you lulled him sincerely to rest.

✧ ✧ ✧

A few hours later your eyes fluttered open, you shifted an inch or two before noticing the bed was too spacious. You were alone. You flipped your body to find the sheet unaccompanied. A frown dropped onto your face and you thought for a moment. Your body flashed back to the night before, his desperate kisses and hungered touch. Dread set in and you rushed to get up before you noticed a slip of paper on the bed beside you. You sat up noticing the paper had your name with a small heart next to it in Fezco's sharpie handwriting. You picked it up quickly opening the note to find a page long letter. Your eyes sprinted to read it.

"To my love,

There's no minute that passes where you’re not in my mind. No second where I don't want you in my arms and no lifetime where I'm not meant to be with you. You mean the world to me and I hope one day your able to see yourself through my eyes. You're kind, smart, humble, funny and a better person than anyone I know, me included. I know I struggle to find the words what to say but I just need you to know you have my entire heart. Every single cell of it. I will always be yours in this life and the next. I love you tremendously now and forever,

Fezco.”

Your heart began running marathons, racing like it's life depended on it and you brought a hand up to your chest. You felt so overwhelmed you could faint and so filled with love you could cry. Your eyes had already began dotting droplets that shot to the page like knives and you quickly moved the paper from causing anymore damage to the sheet. You processed the letter for a moment before knowing you needed to find him. You needed to tell him the same. You shot up from the bed, still dressed in his boxers and tee and dashed down the hardwood floor to the kitchen. The room was quiet, undisturbed. The streetlights flooded through the blinds, lighting it up enough for you to see Ash lounging on the floral couch.

"Yo Ash where is he?" You asked hurriedly. A hand unconsciously going to your mouth to bite your nails, to somehow relieve your worry.

"He's uh... out doing business." Ash said, not seemingly matching your anxiousness.

"What do you mean? He didn't tell me about any of that." You pried, walking closer to the child. His eyes moved up from his phone, the brown circles looking innocently into your own.

"It's just some hand over or somin’, nothing to worry about." Ash lied, his eyes dotting back down to allow himself to say those untruthful words. You nodded, eyebrows still merged together as you sat on the sofa opposite him, body tense and your nails corroded.

"When's he back?" You asked. He swiped his iPhone screen to see the time before replying.

"Not long, maybe 20." The minutes felt like hours, sat here watching the clock tick, some stupid tv show playing on the TV that you tried to focus on but couldn't. You heard a shuffle behind the door, your body jolted to stand up as you gave it your whole attention. Ash did the same. You heard the gate clatter and open before the handle to the door dipped and moved towards you. You saw his foot first, a black trainer step into the house. Your eyes moved upward to where he was as you ran to him quickly.

"Fez!" You cried, jumping onto him before he had time to shut the door behind him. He quickly made eyes with his brother before throwing him the black knitted balaclava that was behind his back. Now hidden from you. He then softened into your embrace his eyes closing as he moved his hand you comfort you. "Baby i love you." leaked out of your mouth. "Where were you? You had me so worried." You whined into him, his skin slightly flush from the outside.

"I had to take care o' somin, it's okay now." He sighed. "Let's go back to sleep." Ash got up from behind you as you continued to embrace, Fezco sending him a nod to go back to his room. You pulled slightly away as you heard the click of Ash's door and soon noticed the crimson liquid, dried over the back of his hands.

"Baby.." You trailed off, looking up at the ginger in front of you. He looked down to see what you were referring to before one hand went to the back of his nape to scratch it nervously.

"Nah It's cool." He said, then knowing you weren't satisfied with his answer as a concerned look danced over your appearance again. "It's not mine." He watched as you chewed your lip to the side, taking a deep breath before nodding ever so slightly. "Now cmon, you go to bed i'll get washed up and come join you." You swallowed the lump in your throat before turning slowly, lazily walking back into his room and lying on the now icy sheets. You spread out unenthusiastically, thinking. 'what was he up to?' 'where had he gone?' 'why didn't he tell you?' Your contemplating thoughts were interrupted by a click off the door and him gently moving a hand to your legs so he could get in. You wasted no time in clinging to him, wrapping both arms around his neck as he practically yanked you to lie on him. His warm weight beneath you.

"I missed you, please don't do that again." You pleaded, kissing into his neck as the curtains now slowly started to lighten with the morning sun rising.

"Sorry ma, it won't happen again." He smiled softly, graciously having you in his arms again as he wished he never had to leave. His mind wondered for a moment. "Did you find the uh.." You interrupted, going straight to the point.

"Yes." You said caressing your lips across the male again, arms running over his body with care. "It was so, so beautiful baby, i feel the same way.” You whispered delicately in his ear before placing a kiss behind it.

"For real?" He asked, almost mockingly with his voice above a whisper.

"Of course, but let me show you." You smiled, moving to lay a lustful kiss on his small sweet lips. Deepening it til you could go no further. You showed him all the love he needed that night. You showed him how he should be respected, praised and adored. Just how he had treated you the whole time. He felt closer than he ever has before, with you that night, now knowing one day he had to make you his wife.

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.”

can u do 13 & 48 w elliot?

pulling your lover closer by the waistband

a kiss that lasts longer than it should

-

It was supposed to be quick goodbye kiss before going home, but as you were kissing in the foyer, Elliot had pulled you closed by waistband of your jeans, pulling your bodies flush together. A small, breathy gasp left your lips when he rolled his hips against you.

Elliot's cousin was out and you were thankful. You didn't want her to witness her horny cousin humping you. It would be embarrassing - for you and her.

You knew what he wanted, but you couldn’t git it to him. Your curfew was in fifteen minutes and you had already lied to your parents about a school project with Rue - there was no school project. You couldn’t risk her calling the Bennetts’ to check if you were on your way. 

''I gotta go, baby,'' you said with a pout, breaking from your boyfriend's lips.

He whined and kissed your jaw, trailing down your neck. ''Just one more minute.''

You giggled and tangled your fingers in his blond curls, staying for a few more kisses.

-

Tag-list:  @milkiane  @euphoricfeminine

Elliot tag-list: @adashipsjegulus @lovesanimals0000  @ellyskey @barbietiingz

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.

pairing ➵ luke castellan x fem reader

wordcount ➵ 755

content warnings ➵ angst, hurt no comfort (does this count as hurt no comfort?) implication of intercourse, makeouts w luke!!!

luke’s pov!! 💝

LIFE AT CAMP HALF-BLOOD WAS MISERABLE to say the least.

Luke watched as young teenage boys and girls, almost always younger than him, journeyed on quests their pathetic excuses of parents couldn’t be bothered with on their own.

He watched as they came back, eyes shadowed over with grief. Bodies weighed down by a fortnight of constant battle and little to no sleep.

He watched as sometimes they didn’t.

Solemn news raced across the camp as the words of a fallen friend made its way back home.

Life at Camp Half-Blood was miserable.

Well, until he met you.

It was a typical sunny morning, the scorching heat of the sun tanning the skins of the youths.

He was spilling his water bottle over his head onto his bright tufts and down his shimmering, golden skin for relief.

When he shook the water from his hair he glanced across the camp, and somehow, as if by fate, his eyes found you.

He hadn’t seen you before today. He was sure he’d remember the way your beauty seemingly rendered him speechless. You sat laughing with a few Aphrodite kids—perhaps your siblings? Silena was sitting closest to you on your right, and Drew was on your other side. He surveyed as you all giggled, eyes mischievously filled with gossip.

How had you flown under his radar? Your laugh ringing in the wind, cheeks puffed out from the action. Your orange camp shirt was tied up in a makeshift crop top, pink beaded bracelets tied onto your arms. He didn’t know whether you had makeup on, or if Aphrodite kids were just that naturally beautiful.

When you get up with Silena and Drew (he assumes are your sisters) he takes in the rest of your outfit. A tight jean skirt adorned your hips. The fabric accessorized with jewels. It was short—a little too short.

He let his pink clouded gaze memorize your figure. The soft skin of your legs taking up his eyes. He was hooked on the way your hips swayed side to side, a bit sensually for a teenage girl to be honest, but he didn’t mind.

Luke’s a great deal of embarrassed and practically feels the definition of creep when he stares back up to your face and makes eye contact with three, cabin ten girls that have their mouths slack open from his not so well disguised eye fucking.

He sees you close in on yourself, expression guarded when he tries to reclaim control of this awkward situation by sending you one of his Luke Castellan, the most popular camper, smiles.

Silena squeals, and punches your shoulder. Sending him a flirty wave with flicks of her fingers. Drew does the same and they bump your hip to follow suit. Undoubtedly doing what Aphrodite kids do best—matchmaking.

The next time he sees you, he detects you don’t actually need your sisters pushes to do something. Your long, manicured nails drag down his forearm and you slide your soft hand into his. Pulling him along to the quiet, deserted woods of the night.

He lets you shove him into a tree, momentarily stunting him from the aggressiveness of it all.

Damn, Aphrodite kids sure are freaks.

He loses himself in your kisses, your touches. Soft moans taking space in the night sky.

After that? Luke and you are inseparable.

Well, at least in the night. During camp hours you guys usually avoid having to encounter one another. It’s not like he’s ashamed of you, and vice versa. He loves what you two have. And he wants to keep the sweetness of it all to himself for just a little longer.

Especially when he has you beneath him, backside covered in the dirt from nature’s floor. You’re writhing under him, asking him to do anything and everything to you.

He likes the way your hand touches his scar, hesitantly moving up to kiss it sugarly.

“You’ll always be everything to me.” You had panted, lips rosy colored and raw.

So why is that now, as you're staring him down in a clash of bronze swords and armour.

You look at him like he’s nothing to you.

He didn’t understand why you chose Camp Half-Blood over him. Over your Luke Castellan. The Gods were irresponsible and immature. Luke couldn’t keep pondering over all his sparks of anger in rants of the camp, and Olympus—did it really not clue you in on his nasty resentment to the olympians?

Life away from Camp Half-Blood is miserable.

Even more so away from you.

© kisscastellan | all rights reserved

OBX3 SPOILERS

I’ll never get over the JJ rehab episode it was surprisingly well written for a Netflix original it reminded me so much of Euphoria and Jule’s therapy episode

happy Thursday the 20th

you’re here, that’s the thing

and i know you said that we’re not a thing but you’re here, that’s the thing - you're here that's the thing, beabadoobee

pairing: teen!patrick zweig x childhood bestfriend!reader

in which: you and patrick have spent summers tangled up with each other. you're in love, he's in denial. and yet— he's here, that's the thing.

warnings: patrick being an idiot

note: patrick and reader are 18-ish. this based off my favorite beabadoobee song, which is very patrick coded (in my opinion). this is my first fic, i hope you like it!!

“so we’re both here, aren’t we?”

you turn around, a stupid grin instantly blossoming on your face at the sight of patrick zweig standing a few steps above you on the staircase.

"you avoiding me or something? you haven't talked to me since you got here." patrick laughs gently.

"no, of course not." you tilt your head slightly, biting back everything you want to say and opting for a smile. you pat the space next to you and he sits down, all in comfortable silence.

whether you’re 10 or 18, you always end up here. with him. an escape from his parents’ suffocating parties and small talk.

patrick sniffs as he lights a cigarette. you scrunch up your nose, “we’re literally indoors, pat.”

patrick scoffs as pillows of smoke escape his mouth. “it’s my house. the window’s open, they won’t care.”

“summer house,” you correct and his eyes fly skyward.

“yeah, yeah. summer house. on the fuckin’, fuckin’— i forget- which island are we on?” patrick snaps his fingers in thought

“santa catalina,” you respond simply, picking at your nails because you don’t think you can look him in the eyes. your insides are already bubbling and he hasn’t even been here two minutes.

“santa fucking whatever-“ patrick snorts, bringing his beer bottle up to his lips and passing it over to you. he doesn’t even ask if you want it or not— he knows you well enough to know that you’ll take a sip.

you wrap your lips around the bottle, and you can taste him. or you think you can. or maybe you just connect everything that reminds you of him to him.

the taste of beer, cigarettes, the subtle hint of his cologne— earthy, citrusy, and unmistakably him

you shut your eyes and swallow down the cold liquid, you try not to gag because you know patrick will make fun of you for it.

“i’ve missed you, y’know?”

you almost spit out your drink, your cheeks burn up and all of a sudden you’re 13 again. “really?”

patrick rolls his eyes again. “yeah, idiot. ‘course i missed you, you’re the only friend i have.”

“you have art?”

“that’s—“ patrick sniffs, “that’s different, you’re like a- a girl.”

“wow, i feel so special,” you can’t help but laugh. “where’s art anyways?”

“he’s staying with his grandmother for the summer this year,” patrick shrugs, taking another long drag of his cigarette. he turns to smirk at you- “why, do you miss him? did you want to see him?”

but you know him enough to know that under all that bravado is stupid, boyish jealousy.

“i’ve missed you too.” you let yourself admit.

he immediately smiles at that. “yeah, you did. you probably dreamed of me every night and fuckin’ cried to thought of me.” he cackles like a maniac, shoving you gently. now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

you reach for the beer bottle and you brush his hands—warm and calloused— and the touch lingers a bit too long. you pull your hand away as you take another sip, your fingers twitch. it’d be so easy to grab his hand right now. you swallow the drink down with your thoughts as you clear your throat.

“so how’s—“ you begin to say

“fuck, this is so stupid,” he groans. he reaches for your chin and tilts your head.

your eyes meet.

his are a shade of blue and green, like when the sun shines on the ocean. that sort of pretty. comforting. you’d like to swim in them. those eyes flicker to your lips. his thumb brushes over your chin, your insides flutter. and he almost— almost leans in.

“you’re being weird, is this because i kissed you last year?”

yes. yes. it is patrick. you want to scream.

“no, why would— i’m not being weird-“

“you are- you are being so fuckin’ weird-“

“patrick- i’m fine,” you scoff.

“it’s wasn’t supposed to be serious if that’s what you’re so concerned about— we’re not a thing. it was like a drunk thing.”

oh.

a drunk thing. not a thing that happened after years of tension. just a drunk thing. that's all it was to him. you swallow that thought like you could wash it down with the lingering taste of beer in your mouth as your heart throbs in your chest.

but yeah, you and patrick were never a thing. it’s something patrick had made clear several times. but each time was a new stab in the chest.

the kiss was a drunken mistake. it was the last day of summer break, you, art, and patrick around six and a half beers in with some weed in the mix, sitting on the sands of the beach. all drunk out of their minds.

you were talking about something stupid while art laughed. patrick stared at the waves crashing into the rocks before he cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

it was soft. warm. right.

and even though you were both blackout drunk, you remember it so clearly. and so does he— he wouldn't have brought it up otherwise.

art had laughed at the action. "what, is this, like, a thing? you guys a thing now?"

patrick had pulled away at that point, his hand still on your waist, grip tightening with his jaw. "fuck, no. it's not like that."

your family left the zweig’s summer home the next morning.

and you couldn’t bear asking him about it over the phone in fear of ruining seven years of friendship.

so for the next 350 something days, you convinced yourself it was just some summer fling that couldn’t even be considered “a fling.”

you managed to convince yourself that you don’t care. but that doesn’t stop the burning, tingly sensation at your waterline and a tear or two from rolling down your cheek.

his entire face drops, almost comically. “why are you crying? no- don’t cry- what the fuck-“ he panics. he doesn’t know where to put his hands. they cup your cheeks then fall from your cheeks. hold your shoulders, then your hands. it’s almost like patrick’s brain crashed and he was malfunctioning. it would almost be funny if it didn't hurt so much, just because of that stupid look on his face. you almost smile. "hey, no- stop that." he starts to laugh, that stupid laugh you fell in love with, and when notices your glare, he stops.

he chooses to stare at you in silence, reaching over to wipe some of your tears. you push his hands away, it's petty. he sighs. "i dunno what i did wrong, i- i thought you wanted it to be a drunk thing. you didn't— you talk about it after we did it. I mean— girls usually talk about this kind of shit, right? to-"

you look at him through your tears, in a 'are you fucking stupid?' kind of way and he shuts up. through your tears you manage to finally say, "imfuckinginlovewithyou, youstupidfuckingidiot"

patrick's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but not in— 'wow this girl loves me' confusion. no— more in a 'what the fuck did you just say, because i don't understand the words that come out of your mouth when you cry' kind of way. you breathe deeply, calming your shaky vocal chords, and wipe your tears. "i love you, you idiot."

patrick's dumbfounded. he opens his mouth to say something. closes it. opens it again— then closes it for good. he's like a fish. a stupidly handsome fish. then he finally manages an "oh." "oh?" you repeat, then the frustration spills out. "the fuck you mean 'oh'? i just said something that could change the trajectory of our friendship—" without warning, he kisses you. grabbing onto the back of your neck and shutting you up.

your hand drops and you grab onto his shirt. your mouth moves with his, and it's so... right. he tastes like the smoke of his cigarette, he tastes like the beer— he tastes like patrick.

when you pull apart and just stare at him, he laughs. fucking laughs. like an idiot. you roll your eyes. "i like you too." he smirks slightly, pushing a hand through his curls and sighing.

"i just told you i love you, and you're saying you like me?" you tease with a smile. "wow, patrick. i'm hurt." he cups your cheeks again, inching closer. "please don't start crying again."

he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip.

"i love you too." — tags: @hyuneskkami for the divider