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huhniebowl · 1 year

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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.

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 there, 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.

“That wasn’t 10 seconds,” Jules calls out, leaning into Rue. They’re going straight to hell if you have any say in it. Though considering the life choices you’ve all made from the moment you crossed paths, you’ll be right there with them. Elliot too.

“You’ve never really kissed a girl before, huh, Elly?” Rue mocks, lighting the blunt.

Elliot leans over and whispers in your ear, “Let me keep my dignity, and I’ll let you keep my five in your pocket.” Damn. Touché.

You shrug and nod, reaching to grab his face and pull him forward. You’re too high for this shit.

“Start the clock.” Elliot points, looking at Rue before meeting your lips in a heavy kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you against the nearest wall.

Your heart is going well over the average beat per minute, and for once, you can honestly say it wasn’t because of the line you just did. You’ve wanted Elliot since the day Rue introduced you to him. Charming, snarky, sarcastic. Qualities right out of your manifestation journal.

The both of you clicked immediately as if you’d been a past connection. Got even closer as the year went on.

You once considered confessing. Telling him you wanted the title of being his and him yours. But that long since died out the closer you became. You’d rather him a friend than nothing.

So every girl he's ever brought up, fucked, confided in you about, you sat there and took it. Shoving down what you felt and ranting it all out to Rue and Jules until you felt good enough to shove it down again. You thought you were doing pretty good, well, until now, since his hands are squeezing your hips and his mouth is hot on yours. You’re more than sure your pussy rivals Niagara Falls right now.

You know this is some fucked up dare on Jules's part nonetheless, and you really shouldn’t enable her, but fuck it.

It’s just a kiss.

So you melt into him, let your hands slide from his face, and rest one on the back of his neck and the other in his curls. You accidentally give them a harsh tug when Elliot pulls back a little to suck at your bottom lip while slipping a warm hand into your sweats to grope your ass.

At the same time you whimper, he huffs out a hoarse ‘fuck’ against your lips at the tug. You open your eyes and pull back just a bit to see he’s already looking at you. Desperation is evident on his face, and his chest heaving just as much as yours. His eyes dart back down to your lips, and you can tell he’s about to go in for another kiss. You just about meet him halfway until your drug-muddled brain processes that you both aren’t alone. The harsh shrill of Jules yelling out shatters the atmosphere.

“10!” You jump, and Elliot freezes, dropping his head onto your shoulder, as his shake with laughter. Unfortunately, the new position leaves you face to face with your friends looking at you with a smugness you want to punch. You throw up your middle finger.

“We literally yelled out 10 a good zillion times. You two were practically fucking in front of us.”

You roll your eyes and push Elliot off when you feel him start to leave soft kisses up your neck, afraid you might actually jump him in front of company if he keeps going. Besides, that wasn’t part of the dare.

“You’re so fucking horny.” You groan, sliding down on the carpet, still trying to catch your breath. Elliot grins and takes the joint from Rue.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t go out like that. A dare’s a dare.”

You grumble and try to ignore the ripple of hurt that rides through you. For a split second, you let yourself believe that maybe the kiss was of hidden motive. Despite it being a dare, you hoped there was at least some truth behind his touches.

Suddenly you hate your friends for the dare, but more so yourself for letting the strong wall you built fall the second he unknowingly dove into your hidden desire.

Your response was a bit delayed, a dry laugh as you reached out for the joint. Closing your eyes and letting your head thump against the wall after your pull.

Fuck.

Time goes by, and your high eventually fades. Rue and Jules left when Jules’s dad began calling about her whereabouts. You stayed behind with Elliot, you two in the middle of a movie when your friends decided to go.

When the credits roll, you glance at your phone. Two am.

“Can I stay the night?” You ask, looking up from your phone. Your stomach swirls when you notice he’s already looking in your direction. Stare intense, and you wonder how long he was staring in the first place.

“It’s pretty late, and I really don’t feel like going home.” You know he’ll say yes, so you quickly text your sister and toss your phone.

“Yeah, sure,” He rolls over and stretches, “You know where everything is to shower and shit.”

You nod and roam around his room for a shirt and a clean pair of boxers.

“You don’t already have a hookup planned for tonight, do you? Cause that would suck.” You laugh under your breath, turning on his orange lamp. Your back faces him while you move around, and you notice he’s silent. Too long for a joke. Not even a scoff. You turn around and see him on the edge of his bed, hands running down his face.

“I stopped those a while ago.” You raise your eyebrows and shuffle in your spot. The air goes tense, and you don’t like it. So you try to shift it.

“What? Ran out of girls in the area?” Your smile drops as soon as it starts when he looks up at you in annoyance. A look that’s never been directed to you.

“No, I got tired of fucking people who didn’t give a fuck about me.” You’re immediately swallowed by guilt. You cross your arms and stop shuffling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Elliot. I didn't mean it like that.” He waves you off and gets up to grab a clean towel.

"Mhm." He walks out to his vacant cousins' ensuite bathroom and slams the door. You jump in your spot and groan. Muttering to yourself on your way toward his bathroom.

You brush your teeth once you’re showered and dressed. His boxers rolled down to fit your hips. His shirt smells like him, and you find yourself bringing it up to your nose any chance you get.

Spitting out the toothpaste, you rinse your mouth and stare at yourself in the mirror. Eyes trailing down to your neck and remembering how Elliot’s lips softly moved up that sensitive part of your skin hours ago. You wonder what would have happened if you didn’t push him away.

Would he have kept going despite having company? Bite down? You shudder, shaking your head and gripping the sink. You've stayed over at his place before, but this feels different. Something is looming over the two of you, and you don’t know if you like it.

You give yourself a dramatic thumbs up in the mirror and walk towards his room. The orange light from before is off, and a dim glow emits instead. He turned on his string lights.

The ones you got him for his birthday last year. You smile to yourself and see Elliot cross-legged on his bed, rolling another joint.

He doesn’t acknowledge you, rightfully so. But it still doesn't make you feel good. You lean on his door frame and watch his fingers skillfully pearl the backwood. You know he knows you’re staring at him, but he doesn’t make a move to say anything.

Your eyes move up to his mouth, fixating on how he uses his tongue to lick the seam of the rolling paper. His eyes flick up while doing so and lock with yours. Your breath hitches, and you watch as he trails down your body before making eye contact again. You divert your attention elsewhere, clicking your acrylics against each other.

Elliot sighs, and you hear him place his rolling tray on his desk.

“You just gonna stand there or help me smoke this?” A silent peace offering.

You stay by the doorway, still a little unsure, watching Elliot place the blunt between his lips and lie on his back, holding his lighter out to you.

“Light me.”

You huff and push off the frame, crawling on his bed and taking a seat on his window seal. The square cut out big enough for you to comfortably sit in. You grab the lighter from his hands and spark it, leaning forward to light his spliff.

“Elliot, I’m—” Once again, his eyes meet yours, and your words die in your throat. You’re closer to him than before. His curls are still damp and loose, framing his face. Skin soft and dewy from skincare, and the amber glow from the flame.

He’s so fucking beautiful. Being this close, your thumbs itch to rub over his apple tattoo; then over his eyebrows, then gently use the pad to pull down his plump bottom lip to watch it bounce back into place.

They’re loosely holding on to the vanilla backwood, pink and soft. You want to kiss him again. Taste the flavored remnant that undoubtedly coats his lips the longer the joint sits there.

Elliot shuffles, and you snap out of your revere, clearing your throat. You quickly light his joint as you feel the lighter wheel heat up under your thumb. Then continue your apology.

“I'm really sorry for earlier. What I said was fucked up.”

“Yeah, you think?” He’s being sarcastic, but once again, deserved.

“At least the sex you’ve had meant something. They don’t just fuck off after.” Elliot takes a long pull and hands it over to you.

“Who would’ve thought me, of all people, craved intimacy during and after a fuck.” He gives a dry laugh and blows out.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.” Elliot looks over at you. “The guys I fucked were only interested in me for that reason. A fuck.” After a pull, you let your head rest against the wall, “Led me to believe it would be something more, then left with a half-assed sentiment once I gave them what they really wanted. Never even cummed for a guy.”

You shrug, then blow out the smoke before continuing. “So I guess we’re on the same boat then, huh?”

You look over at Elliot, his face unreadable. Silence falls over you both like a thick blanket as you pass the joint between each other. You let him get the last hit, holding it out for him lean up and take a pull.

He crosses his legs and puts his hands behind his head, eyes lidded and red as he watches you snuff out the blunt and toss it out the window. You suppose your eyes don’t look too far off from that too.

His voice, although soft, jumps you out of the silence.

“You’re more than just a fuck.” You suddenly find it hard to breathe.

“You too, Elliot.” You whisper, scared to break the atmosphere you two have made. He’s quiet for a moment before continuing.

“I wouldn’t treat you that way. At least with me, you’d cum.”

Your heart damn near stops, and you inhale at his words. He reaches a hand out to your ankle; the pads of his fingertips cool as they rub at the warm skin over the bone. Mindlessly playing with your anklet, you shiver as his hand moves to caress your calf.

He shuffles closer to you, and your thighs quiver at the new tension. You can’t process what’s happening anymore. What’s real, and what’s fake.

Being high blinds the practicalness you usually have when it comes to Elliot, making everything regarding him, sugar-coated. Elliot’s processing through your brain like he’s a wad of sugary cotton candy, and you’re feigning for it bad.

It’s why you feel your body mindlessly moving on its own as you climb down from his window and over to him. You straddle his hips, and his hands slide under your shirt like clockwork.

He’s close enough to where his breath fans over your lips, he’s focused on them until he catches your gaze. “I know I can give you what you need.”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath when your clothed clit barely rubs at his dick, poking under his sweats. His body reacts to prove his words right.

“So, please, can I make you cum?” He doesn’t need to ask twice.

“God, yes, Elliot.” And just like earlier, his lips are on yours. It has your pussy puddled in seconds. It’s slow, wet, and sounds lewd even in your ears.

Just as you guessed, there’s a faint taste of vanilla, and it has you whimpering. Your moans filter in soon after when he grabs your hips and pulls them down, pussy rubbing against his hard-on.

He’s harder than earlier, and it feels too good; it has you jolting up. His groan is guttural, sending spikes of pleasure through you like no other. You swallow the sound and let him flip you both over.

“Wanted this for so fucking long.” He breathes, leaving kisses down your neck. You don’t know what to say. Still not comprehending this is happening, let alone someone you’ve been yearning for admitting that he has been too.

He moves back to yank off his shirt, and you’re whining out to him before you can stop yourself. Needing him back against you. Elliot chuckles at your neediness, returning for a kiss that barely leaves you in touch with reality.

“Take this off for me?” He whispers, tugging on your shirt. You pull it off and bring him back down, his hands running over your newly exposed skin. Fingers brushing over your tits.

“Can I?” His voice is strained, composure just short of being lost.

“Yeah.” You breathe, feeling him kiss down your chest until his warm mouth suctions onto your nipple.

You curse out and arch off the bed, running a hand through his hair and gripping it hard. He groans against you, his dick pressing harder against your thigh as he ruts himself into your soft skin. Desperate for friction.

You don’t realize how much he’s getting off to this until you bring yourself to look down and see his eyes closed. His lips suctioned around your right nipple, his fingers rolling the bud of the left one. He’s in a state of bliss, so lost in himself. He pops off and moves to the other, tongue flicking over your nipple in a way you wish was on your clit.

“Elliot, please.” You whine, pussy gushing yet again when you feel him grind harder at you saying his name.

“Please, what?” He moves off your nipple and lays his head on your stomach. Looking up at you while his fingers replace where his mouth once was.

“Need you.” You can’t say it; you won’t. You’re more than sure he knows where you want him. You can tell when you hear him huff a laugh.

“You’re going to have to tell me where.” You quiver when you feel his fingers rub over the drenched spot on your boxers. His boxers.

“It’s here? You need me here, right? You really drenched my boxers, didn’t you?”

“Yes, right there. Please, please.” You whine, unable to feel embarrassed. Not when he has you this worked up.

“See. Not so hard.” He muses, sliding them off and slowly pushing your legs apart.

“Fuck, look at you.” He whispers. “So pretty and so wet. Just for fucking me.” He looks up at you, “Anyone ever made you this wet?”

You shake your head. “No, just you. Only you.” Elliot’s in awe, someone like you all glistening and needy for him. It's like he’s on a power trip. “Can I record eating your pussy?”

Your mind is too sugar-coated for you to think straight, your trust and reliability around Elliot allowing it to be as such. A question like that from anyone else would have had you shriveling up in disgust. But with Elliot? You find yourself pliant. Ready to let him do anything he wanted to you.

“Your words.” He murmurs, his fingers pressing down on your clit to watch your juices spread.

You squeal at the pressure, “Yes, yes!”

“Good girl.” He feels around for his phone. You hear the start of the video and through lidded eyes, see him shining the camera flash on your soaked folds.

“Looks even prettier in the light.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the camera, but your pussy visibly clenches at his words, and he chuckles.

“Can you spread yourself for me?”

He was going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it.

Obediently, you slide your pretty fingers to your cunt, and slowly open yourself up to him with your pointer and middle finger. You hear the sticky sound your pussy makes as you reveal your clit to him, the jewels on your acrylics glinting under the flash.

“Fuck.” He breathes out your name, zooming in. “Keep it there.” He says, reaching his thumb to rub slow circles on your clit.

“Elly!” You whine, thighs trembling. He hands you his phone without a word, eyes not tearing away from your pussy. With a shaky hand, you take it and position it so he’s in frame.

“Hold still.”

“Oka–Shit, Elliot!” You cry, his tongue flicking your clit before you can finish. His eyes are closed, lapping you up like he's starved. You want to close your eyes, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of everything, Elliot. But he told you to hold still.

So you look down in the camera to make sure he’s still within frame and almost cum right there. He’s looking up into the camera, right at you. It has your stomach clenching and pussy throbbing under his tongue.

“Feels so good, Elly, don’t stop.” You cry out. He keeps a hand firmly on your thigh to keep them open and brings the other to rub circles on your clit. He moves down and shoves his tongue inside. Tongue fucking you and eliciting the only sound he wants to hear from you.

You let out a moan so pretty it has Elliot’s dick harder than ever, and he falters in his movements for a second. Pulling back to leave quick, and messy kisses to your pretty fingers for holding yourself open for him.

“M’ gonna cum!” You squeal, dropping the phone to grip his sheets. You could feel it; you were about to snap. And you’re so desperate for it. Desperate to cum for him.

He pulls back for a quick second, “Come on, baby, you can do it. All over my face, come on.” Then he quickly flicks the tip of his tongue back on your clit.

You reach both hands down to grip his hair, “Yes, like that; stay there, stay there!” You cry, toes curling when Elliot does as you say.

That’s all you need. The white-hot coil snaps, and you scream Elliot’s name, cumming harder than you believed possible. Head thrown back as one of your hands squeeze the pillow under your head, the other still holding a tight grip on Elliot’s hair. Knuckles white.

Your legs tremble, and your chest stutters. Elliot watches it all in a daze. He didn’t know someone could look so fucking beautiful while cumming. You look dewy, a thin sheet of sweat coating your body. The woman right out of his wet dreams.

He did that to you, it was all him, and it has him moaning into your sensitive cunt. Causing your body to quiver.

“Fuck Elliot.” You breathe, pawing his greedy mouth off you and back to your lips. You taste yourself on him and sigh.

“So good. So so good.” He mumbles, moving to bite at your collerbones. You wrap a arm around his shoulders, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Thank you, Elly, thank you, thank you.” You whimper, feeling so raw. So bared with him. You’re holding his face in your hand, overwhelmed with how he’s staring at you. Like you hung the stars and the planets. Like you’re wholeheartedly the only reason for his existence, and you almost can’t take it.

“Wanna make you feel good.” You whisper, reaching down between your bodies and wrapping your hand around his cock. He breathes through his nose and drops his head into your neck.

“Yes, please.” His voice is thick and coarse. You don’t respond, lining yourself up with him and squeezing his arm, letting him know to slip in.

“Fuck fuck.” Elliot grits out, as he slowly pushes, his hands on either side of your head. You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs around his waist.

Once he bottoms out, you clamp down on him. He stays still, trying to pull himself together not to cum yet.

He feels helpless, losing himself in the heat of your pussy like this. Never has he been reduced to a mess like this before.

“Gonna need you to relax, baby, or I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you properly.” He rasps. You pepper kisses over his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair. Willing yourself to calm down. You feel so full, the pleasure tingling up your spine and throughout your body.

“Elly, please move.” You whimper, desperate to feel him. He keeps himself buried in your neck, his grip on the blankets tightening.

You’re just about to beg again when Elliot decides to snap his hips. You choke on your words and lock your ankles tighter over each other. His pace is quick but deep, the tip of his dick abusing that spongy spot you can never reach.

Your walls flutter around him, so warm and soft, and he needs more.

He’s pussy drunk, panting into your skin at how you’re squeezing him in so perfectly, greedy to milk him for all he has.

“S’pussy was made for me, just for me.” He mutters.

You can’t find your voice. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth open as Elliot fucks you into the mattress with all he has. Your nails dig into his back, and he hisses at the sting.

You find yourself gasping for air when he pulls up from your neck, his face flushed and his baby hair curling at his forehead.

“Kiss me, plea—.” You whimper, and he’s already moving to your lips before you finish. It’s sloppy, more a meeting of spit and tongue than a kiss, but you’re high off it.

You’re going to cum again, and Elliot can tell, by the way your pussy is tightening around him.

He can feel your cunt drooling, his precum mixing with your arousal, causing a creamy ring around the base of his dick, and the mere sight of it has him higher than he thought possible.

“M’ gonna cum. You gonna come w’me?” He mumbles against your lips, his eyes far away.

You nod, “S’close, Elly.” You grow impatient, moving your hips to match his sloppy pace.

“That’s right, fuck me back, baby.” His voice is hoarse. Completely lost in his lust and need for you. You feel it again, that familiar heat pooling; you’re right there.

It takes one more snap of his hips, and you’re cumming around him hard, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent scream as you cream all over his dick. There’s a ringing in your ears; Elliot sounds far away as he works you through your orgasm while chasing his.

“Cumming, fuck m’gonna cum.” He sounds like a broken record, but he can’t help it.

He’s so lost in the way you’re squeezing around him. So perfect and tight. You hold him as close as possible in your weakened state, making eye contact and fulfilling your thoughts from earlier by pulling down his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Cum inside, Elly. Wanna feel you cum.” And he’s cumming. A resounding whimper works its way up his throat as he paints the inside of your sopping cunt. He goes limp on top of you, kissing you up the valley of your chest, until he softly catches your lips in a slow and lazy kiss. So good, and thank you’s tumbling out his lips.

You feel hot, & sticky but can’t bring yourself to push him off. So you bask in the silence, your nails raking through his scalp as you gather your bearings. You feel yourself spinning, wondering where this leaves you two. If this is the end of your friendship. If he—

“So,” Elliot draws, looking up at you and unknowingly snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Wanna be my girlfriend?” You look down at him and can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat. Light swatting his head.

Because, of course, this is how Elliot would ask. He smiles, content with how he can feel your chest rumbling under his head, and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend, Elly.”

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