#elliot fan fiction euphoria
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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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Hey, is it okay if you wrote a story where Elliot fucks the reader in a bathroom while rue and Jules are looking for them? Thank youu❤️❤️
be quiet for me - elliot
pairing: elliot x reader
words: 0,8k
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, slight oral (fem receiving), elliot being a horny mess
—☕️
“Shh baby, gotta be -fuck- quiet for me, m’kay?” Elliot said breathlessly into your ear. He was caging you in as your hands grabbed desperately at the corners of the bathroom wall.
You nodded eagerly, pressing your face into the crook of his neck in an attempt not to make any noise.
Elli couldn’t wait any longer. When you had arrived at Jules’ house for her little birthday get together, you just looked so goddamn fine. His hand was creeping higher and higher on your thigh as all of you were watching a movie and when everyone was distracted with dancing and drinking, he had pulled you aside smoothly.
You were so tight around him now, as he fucked into you over and over again. His thrusts were fast and messy, and you were sure you’d never experienced him this horny ever. He near-whined into your ear, absolutely feral and head over heels for you in this moment.
“Elliot! Fucks sake, y/n! Are you fucking or something? We need you for truth or dare!” Jules and Rue yelled in turns, the sound muffled by the white bathroom door. No one knew you and Elliot had a thing going but he was too horny to be sly tonight.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned your name brokenly. It seemed he was the one that had to be kept quiet, so you placed your hand roughly over his mouth while pushing his head back so he’d look at you. His eyes were watery and pleading, and your hand over his mouth made his eyes roll back and his thrusts impossibly faster. You didn’t reply to the girls as they laughed somewhere downstairs.
Your other hand gripped the edge of the counter he had put you on. His absolute desperateness made you clench around him even tighter, coating his dick is wetness that might even seep onto the tile under you. A thin layer of sweat was glistening on his temple as his hands clawed at your waist, his hips never faulting. “Shit I can’t-“ you whispered, pushing your hips into his now to feel him deeper, faster.
He felt your muscles tighten and his hand flew messily to your wet, puffy clit and rubbed it quickly. Your hand grabbed his wrist and your thighs shook around his hips where his sweats were pushed down. “Fucking cum for me, please,” he ordered, before footsteps where heard outside the door and a loud banging. Horrible timing, because you felt yourself squeeze Elliot’s dick so fucking tight, felt a hot slickness coat him while your heart raced and soft lips were open in a silent moan. You came so fucking hard and Elliot was stunned.
He wanted to reply to Jules’ obnoxious, drunken banging but his hand splayed on the wall instead as he buried his head in your neck, biting down on the apex of your shoulder as he came.
“Two seconds. I- I spilled on my shirt,” you yelled out hastily, breathless and ragged.
“Sure. Just don’t get anything gross on my counter please!” She laughed. “I won’t tell though, I promise”
She smiled to herself before leaving you alone.
Simultaneously you and Elliot breathed out in relief.
“God I’m sick of hiding this,” he muttered from your neck. You pulled his head up by his curls to look at him. When you opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, he pushed his hips flush with yours again, his coarse hair grinding against your oversensitive clit. Your words stuttered over each other into incoherent moaning.
“Fuck I wanna walk back out holding your hand. Please?” He asked softly, breaths still quick and ragged. You felt your heart clench at his request and nodded wordlessly.
“Okay.” You smiled, gasping gently when he pulled out of you. You were about to jump from the counter when you heard the soft of Elliot’s knees hitting the floor.
“So fucking pretty,” he said, voice low and hoarse as his thumb swiped through your wet, slick folds. Your stomach clenched at his words and touch, and he leaned forward to take your clit into his mouth. He sucked carefully while looking up into your eyes, hands on your thighs. You moaned shamelessly this time, not able to look into his intense gaze as your eyes averted to the ceiling.
He gave you a few appreciative kitten licks before getting up and handing you some toilet paper to wiper yourself down. When you had thoroughly cleaned the sink, per Jules’ request, you walked out of the bathroom with Elliot’s warm hand in yours.
#elliot#Elliot smut#elliot euphoria#dominic fike#elliot x reader#elliot x reader smut#elliot smut euphoria#elliot fan fiction#elliot x you#elliot imagine#elliot fanfic#euphoria#euphoria smut#euphoria fanfiction#Dominic fike smut#Dominic fike x reader#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike fan fiction
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Mirrors
Elliot x reader
Warnings: SMUT.
a/n: this was written so long ago so don’t be TOO harsh ignore any spelling or grammar errors this shit is actually so ass but oh well.
—
The carnival was a big deal at east highland, more specifically who you went with.
So when you got a text from Elliot asking you to keep him company you cheerfully agreed. When you agreed to go along with him this was the last situation you expected yourself to be in.
It was now reaching the early hours of the morning so the crowd of people who originally where there had thinned out some due to curfews and the lack of things to do other than ride the Ferris wheel and few other rides that where there. Elliot had pulled you into the fun house fifteen minutes earlier which turned into a heated make out session in the mirror room since it had the most coverage from the outside world.
You could slowly feel his hands trailing up your skirt before he reached the hem of your underwear, Elliot pulled away from the kiss to shoot you a questioning look you shook your head in response as he pulled you down to the ground and situated it so you where now sitting in between his legs with your back to his chest and your legs spread you could now see you black lace underwear on full display in the mirrors that surrounded the two of you.
He hungrily pulled the fabric down and past your feet discarding of it he stared at the reflection of your now soaking pussy in a daze which was quickly broken by a whimper leaving your throat due to his fingers making their way to your clit
“all of this for me"
he muttered in your ear in a low raspy voice before dipping two of his fingers into your pussy resulting in a loud moan breaking the silence you reached your hand up to cover your mouth not wanting to draw any attention to what was happening as he thrusted his two long fingers into you at a rapid pace.
You could feel his dick hardening underneath you and a whispered praise left his mouth
"you look so pretty like this y/n”
your eyes slammed shut as a the pressure slowly grew you felt a large hand reach around and grab your chin
"open your eyes I want you to watch as I fuck you"Elliot uttered
You opened your eyes watching as his fingered thrusted into you at a rapid pace before coming undone on them
"good girl" he spoke
Before pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean
"you did so good for me" he voiced while pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled against his lips
"please tell me this isn't going to be a one time thing You questioned hoping the answer would be no
“Trust me it's definitely not." Elliot said crushing your worries as his lips formed a cocky smile.
#smut#euphoria fanfic#euphoria#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike fan fiction#elliot euphoria#elliot euphoria smut#dominic fike smut#dominicfikefanfic#dominic fike#dominic fike x reader
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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Elliot (euphoria) x reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem! reader, light smut, swearing, might leave u with blue balls idk
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your boyfriend always seems to get you tangled in his mess, but makes it worth it in the end
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.5k
𝐚/𝐧: omg omg hiii- Thank you so much for my first ever request !! I’m not sure if this is what you were expecting but I hope you like it either way :’) I honestly just ran with it lol @sbbsnsnsnsmamamaa
Also!! Big shoutout to @sublimecatgalaxy for proofreading and helping me out sm with my first ever request! ur sweet words gave me sm motivation you have no idea! Ilysm <3 obviously follow her if you love elliot >:) cuz her fics are top tier fr
🎧 - dirty work by steely dan, devils advocate by the nbhd, playa shit by nxxxxxs, do what you want, be what you are by hall & oats
You slam your locker shut with a huff, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, the obnoxious fluorescent lighting of the hallways not helping at all with your impending headache. You finally manage to open your eyes again only for you to be interrupted
“Y/n have you been listening to me AT ALL?!?”Jules. Ah, sweet, sweet Jules, whom you unintentionally tuned out during your, probably, 50th yawn this morning alone. You huff, crossing your arms, looking up at her.
“I very much was actually!” i pause “But I wouldn’t be against it if you decided to repeat everything you just said. Ya know, just to make sure I got every detail down…” You say with a smile. Obviously not buying it, she glares.
Honestly though, you don’t know what she expected, especially when school started not even a few minutes ago. And here she comes barreling in, whisper yelling this whole long story with probably multiple layers and loads of gossip. On a usual day, you’d be very willing and very awake to hear her spiel, but today was different.
Different because on most days you’re usually not this sleep deprived from the night before. But with your amazing luck, a certain someone kept you awake all night. You’re honestly surprised, and kinda proud, that you didn’t end up saying “fuck it” and just staying in bed all day. But unfortunately for you, your sense of responsibility outweighs everything else. You’d like to convince yourself that you’re honestly not that sore this morning so—
“I’m literally only gonna repeat this again because I actually love you-“
“Awe Jules! I lo-“
“-Shush! Okay so-wait! Why do you look like that?”
“…Like what?” Your eyebrows scrunching. Looking down at yourself, a bit self consciously. Honestly, you thought your outfit was pretty cute so why-
“No! I mean you! Your face- You look like you got hit by a train and not the good kind.” You open your mouth flabbergasted, about to reply when she speaks up again. “I’m sorry, I’m just noticing it now, but with all the yawning and zoning out, is everything okay?? Do you wanna talk about it-”
''Jules, I'm honestly fine. I just had a long night is all.” With a huffed laugh, blushing a little unbeknownst to her. Leaning on her locker next to mine, she bites her lip looking at me, unconvinced.
“Okay well, you should know that I’m always here if you need it.” Smiling, you honestly felt touched by her concern but fuck, if only she knew. It’s kinda laughable she hasn’t figured it out yet, but you respond.
“Likewise. But for real, I’m good. You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t.” You rub her arm with a small smile. Still looking unconvinced, she walks towards you and pulls you forward into a tight hug, with her chin resting over your head.
“You’re literally so full of shit but… I’ll pretend to believe you for now.” You bark out a laugh, hugging her back just as tight. Pulling away, she looks down at you smiling “So, as I was saying-“ Seemingly out of nowhere, you both hear a bunch of yelling and the sound of rushed footsteps coming from the hallway behind you. You and Jules turn your heads, separating, confused as to what’s going on. Low and behold, it was Elliot of all people, being chased down by a small group of guys, running in your direction. By the time both of you processed what was going on, seemingly by the blink of an eye, Elliot was beside you guys hunched over, hands on his knees, panting. With a quirked brow, he looks up.
“Well, hello ladies.” He says out of breath. You and Jules share an impressed look and before any of you could even say anything he took off again only to backtrack. “Actually! I forgot something-“ he says while grabbing your wrist in a haste and suddenly pulling you with him. You stumbled forward, your shoes squeaking against the polished hall floor.
“Elliot, what the fuck-“
“Uh, no time to explain!.” Now running hand in hand, well mostly Elliot dragging you to god knows where, you stumble again, turning your head around to yell out.
“Text me!” Still hand in hand with Elliot, you managed to get a look at clearly annoyed Jules, arms crossed, frown adorning her pretty face. You shrug, smiling sheepishly right before turning a sharp corner. Now to matter at hand, you snap your head towards your absolute idiot of a boyfriend about to question, again, what the fuck is going on but your words get caught in your throat when you turn another corner, and get abruptly pulled into a closet. Elliot reaches behind you slamming the door shut and locking it. Still holding your hand, He turns his back leaning against the door, panting. And being completely honest, you might’ve found it a little hot, if it were under different circumstances. And if it weren’t for the fact that you are literally in a dark janitor's closet, still not aware of what the hell is going on. Repeating your sentiment loudly, “Elliot, what the-'' Before you can even finish he pulls you flushed against him, caging you against the door, while covering your mouth with one hand and holding your hip with the other.
All you get is a whispered “Shhhh!” So you look up at him, your eyebrows scrunching, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster. About to rip his hand off your mouth, you were stopped with the sudden noise coming from outside the door. You hear hurried footsteps approaching, and a muffled “where the fuck did he go?!” and a “I swear to god bro, the second I see him-” and a bunch of other obscenities. Tearing your attention away from the door you look up at him, giving him a questioning look. He ignores you, looking towards the door to your utter annoyance.
After a bit of commotion, the noise outside starts dying down and the footsteps start retreating. Sounds of irritated murmurs and annoyed sighs are heard from inside the closet getting farther and farther away. And then you both were met with complete silence.
“Okay, I think we’re good.” Elliot says, looking down at you with a small smile. He goes to remove his hand from your mouth, but before he could you bit him. “Ow! What the fuck-“
“Funny! Because I’ve been trying to ask you the same god damn question! What the fuck Elliot? Why are we in the janitor's closet?!”
“Baby, I can explain-“ You scoff, with your hands on your hips not believing for a second that whatever explanation he has will justify everything that just went down. But regardless, you end up giving him a look, saying to just get on with it already. “So, you know how Rue, Jules and I are playing truth or dare?” You nod, already not liking where this was going. “Well, I was dared to go up to this random guy and say some weird shit.”
“Oh god, okay? What did you say”. Elliot sighs, telling you and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Yeah, yeah it’s hilarious. But I guess I hit a nerve, since he and his friends chased me again after spotting me…”
“Wait so this is like an ongoing thing?”
“I mean, I guess? But I haven’t been caught both times so-“ He says with a shrug, smirking. Rolling your eyes you reach out and punch his arm. “Ow! Why are you hitting me! It’s not my fault he’s ashamed of his kinks!”
“Elliot, oh my god-“ Exasperated, you let out a huff about letting things go but something didn’t add up. “Wait, so what does all of this gotta do with me then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, why did you basically kidnap me, in the middle of the hallway??” Elliot let’s out scoff,
“Kidnap you? What?! Last time I checked people who get kidnapped aren’t going willingly, and you were very willing”
“I literally had no idea what was going on! I basically had no choice! But either way, it doesn’t justify doing all this. What aren’t you telling me?” You knew Elliot like the back of your hand so you had an inkling that he wasn’t sharing the complete truth with you and you needed to get to the bottom of it. No matter how dumb it may seem. He ends up biting his lip, turning his face away, suddenly getting all shy- Wait what?
“Hey, Ellie, look at me?” You say softly, turning his face towards you, so you could meet his eye. You both share a brief moment of eye contact, and then he huffs, giving in.
“So while I was running for my life-“ you snort “I may or may not have gotten a look at you and Jules…sharing a moment”. You were confused, till it dawned on you.
“You mean, you saw us hugging?”
“A very intense hug if you ask me.” Giggling, you tangle your fingers with his.
“Awe, baby were you jealous?” You say teasing him, not able to keep your shit eating grin to yourself. He gives you a deadpan look at your tone, but then proceeds to groan when you decide to lean up and give him a bunch of lingering kisses on his face, going down to his neck. Sliding your hands under his shirt to wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his chest looking up, giving him a doe eyed look. He caves.
“Ugh, stop- don’t do that! Okay okay! So maybeee I was a little jealous- but I just missed you is all.'' Sighing he pulls you closer, resting his head against yours, you smile.
“Miss me? You say that like you didn’t fuck me on basically every surface of your room last night-“ He lets out a long groan “for hours may I add. To the point where I was so out of it this morning that Jules noticed.”
“Damn princess, I affected you that much?” He breathes out, fingers digging into my sides.
“Well duh, we both barely got any sleep last night thanks to your insatiable ass.”
“Well you sure as hell weren’t complaining last night-“
“ugh, shut up”
“I will, for a kiss” Begrudgingly you give in, despite knowing it’s downhill from here. You don’t like to admit it, but you never seem to be able to say no when it comes to Elliot. All self control gets thrown out the window along with common sense and rationality. You’d like to think he feels the same way. Speaking from the fact that he usually can’t go two seconds without having his hands on you or with his tongue down your throat. You're not complaining though. Especially not now, when he's kissing you, like his life depends on it. Hands rubbing down your sides, slowly making their way down while your hands are tangled in his bleached curls. You melt into his touch, humming onto his lips. His fingers trailing up your skirt. Your gasp very quickly turns into a strangled moan when he abruptly cups your ass, squeezing hard, rubbing himself against you. The air suddenly charged between you two as he hoists you up from the back of your thighs carrying you to a seemingly abandoned desk. He sets you down, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as he deepens the kiss. You manage to pull away for a second for some air, Elliot taking the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck lower and lower, the tips of his fingers grasping the ends of your tank top and pulling it off in a swift movement. The sight of your cute bra alone making him groan, settling on his knees resting his head on your lap. “I swear, you're trying to kill me woman” You huff out a laugh at his reaction truly not expecting it. A sheepish ‘sorry’ comes out of your mouth, you both knowing you truly don’t mean it. As torturing him was one of your favorite pastimes. Deciding to fuck with him even more, you lick your lips, spreading your legs a little farther and leaning back with your arms behind you.
“It’s a matching set by the way.” you say biting your lip. Another pained groan leaving his lips.
“You're honestly not making this easier for me, baby”. Ready to give a snarky remark you’re abruptly cut off by him rubbing your slit over your panties. You gasp, your breathing starting to get labored as he starts applying more pressure. Using his thumb, he starts rubbing you, drawing slow circles on your clit over your clothed core. You start trembling, sensitive from the previous night's endeavors. Not letting this deter you from teasing him, you manage to let out a breathy “We're still in school ya know…like in public.” Your words contradicting your actions as you slip your manicured nails into his curls and pull him closer to where you need him most. He laughs, breathe going straight over your still covered center making you shiver once more. While looking up at you he smacks his lips.
“I really don’t care, you look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you sensless right now.” You internally groan, trying not to give in. Just as you were about to respond though, the bell rings, startling you from your haze, Signaling the start of your first period. With a sigh, you look around trying to find your shirt. Once locating it, you slip it on only to be met with Elliot's pouting face.
“Awe cmon, don’t look at me like that.” Trying to get down from the desk, Elliot stops you, standing up in between your legs again to kiss you sweetly, hands cupping your face. He pulls away, rubbing your cheek with his thumb
“It’s hard not to when you look like that.” Ducking your head to hide your blush you push him away, finally making your way off the desk. Adjusting your clothes and hair one last time before heading to the door ignoring him. “Y/nnnnn.”
“Elliot we’re both late as is and you & I both know you can’t afford to skip.” With a pout seemingly permanently stuck on his face, he walks up from behind you hugging you.
“But I have a problemmm” He whines, rubbing his prominent bulge against your backside. Rolling your eyes, acting as if it isn’t affecting you either-you turn around, looking up at him and give him a peck on the lips between each word.
“Not.My.problem” You sing song. And to that he lets out frustrated noise, followed by a huffed out ‘bitch’ under his breath.
“You love it though.” With a defeated sigh and a nod of his head, he responds.
“I do…I do”. And all Elliot could think about while staring at your thighs from under your skirt as you leave—is how much of a punishment you’re in for once you get home. Which isn’t helping his impending problem down there at all. But he honestly can’t wait.
#elliot x reader#euphoria fanfic#elliot euphoria#euphoria imagine#elliot euphoria x reader#fan fiction#fanfic#fez x reader#fezco x reader#my writing#euphoria season two
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The light inside of you
“This piece is unfinished, but I really wanted to share what I’ve got so far with y’all…”
Cups clink and whispered chatter buzzes in the air of the cafe.
You’ve been coming to the Thursday evening open mic nights for months now, and every time you perform your poetry, it’s like his eyes are boring right into you— Elliot, that guy who plays the guitar and sings. You don’t know him, but you feel like you do; you both have been pouring your heart out on this stage to a rotating audience for weeks now.
You two are the constants, you two have learned so much about each other through watching each other perform. Like, earlier tonight, he sang this heartbreakingly beautiful song about letting go of a friend, his hope that it was worth it. You heard someone roughly whispering that they thought it was too long, you evil-glared at them. It truly was a gorgeous song, he put his whole heart out there… maybe it was time to finally shoot your shot. If he could show brutal vulnerability, so could you.
You can’t be losing your mind. You could SWEAR that there’s been this building sexual and emotional tension between you two. Every time you perform, it’s like he’s not looking AT you, it’s like he’s looking INSIDE you, an intense look in his eyes. Every time he performs, you watch with rapt attention and sometimes, you could swear he was smirking seductively at you…
Okay, you can do this.
You clear your throat, take a deep sigh, and begin, heart racing:
“Your skin gleams, yellow and gold like a light beam
My blood burns, red, hot and smoldering—
Cheeks flushing pink from the heat when your eyes catch a hold of me”
Like a magnet, his eyes lock on yours from the Audience.
… “chocolate brown eyes as sweet as honey, I—
Feel the heat and stickiness of this lust building inside
I just want to die a little death in your arms tonight
Le petite mort—giving release to the tension that hangs in the air between
I’ve been swimming in your vulnerability for weeks and weeks now and am in awe of your lightness
The way you float on air despite the heaviness and tightness of what burdens you
There is unfathomable light inside of you
I catch glimpses when I think I catch you looking at me
And as your gaze leaks light into me, I am humbled by the flashes of galaxies not yet fully seen by me or, as I suspect, anybody, and I yearn to find more and much
I’m hungry to know your physical touch
Have I said too much? My heart sometimes speaks quicker than my tongue
But my tongue is tied between reciting poetry in awe of your beauty and doing naughty things to you
A different kind of poetry
The kind that speaks in touch and sounds more than words…
Thank you, that’s all I have for now” you say, shyly. A chorus of claps are a soundtrack as you walk off the stage.
You feel Elliot’s gaze following you. You look over at him. He offers you a small but distinct smile and nods his head towards toward the door- a silent invitation. He heads outside and you follow him.
Once outside, he pulls out and lights a joint, taking a long drag and offers it to you. You partake and pass it back.
‘That was a beautiful poem,’ he offers, ‘I just have one question for you’
You thank him for the compliment and look expectantly for the question.
‘You really think I’m that special?’
You’re shocked— he knows it’s about him.
He quietly laughs, not unkindly, seeing your expression. ‘I’ve been feeling that tension between us too. I just didn’t know how to approach you. It’s weird, it’s like we don’t know each other but we do, like, we really know each other.’ You nod in agreement. ‘So it is about me, yea?’ Again, you nod. ‘Sooo.’
“Oh, yes” you remember his question. “I do think you’re special. You’re not like any guy our age that I’ve ever met. I don’t know. I think you’ve gone through some shit, maybe that’s it. I just know that when I watch you sing and play, I feel like I’m staring at the sun. It makes me feel warm and-‘
He was kissing you. You didn’t see the way his eyes welled up. The way he felt seen in a way like never before. How his heart lurched forward and kissing you felt almost involuntary, like it was almost inevitable. He broke free.
‘I’m sorry, is this, is this okay?’ He asked, breathless.
“Yes,” you whispered, “it’s more than okay.” You lean back in and kiss him gently at first and then more firmly as his hands explore your body.
Next thing you know, you’re in the backseat of his car.
…
His mouth is warm and wet on your neck, his hand curving around your now bared breasts, then past your navel, now sliding into your pants. You gasp as his finger slips into your own warmth and wetness, stroking your clitoris with the pad of his thumb as one finger enters you, then another. Electricity crackles within as your chest rises, thighs tightening around his hand. He softly laughs right as his mouth finds one of your erect nipples. You grind your hips into his fingers, adjusting until you find the spot that feels like you’re going the find that little death.
He gently nips at your nipple, licking and sucking as his free hand finds your other other breast, pinching the nipple. Goosebumps appear on your arms as the added stimulation brings you closer to the edge.
Your hands find and undo the button of his jeans. You enter one into his boxers, finding his hard cock. You firmly grasp around it— a low and pleasurable moan escapes from his throat.
“I want to get on top” you say. He nods, removing his hand from your pants and leaning back.
‘Hold on’ he says as he pulls a condom out of his back pocket. You help him put it on.
It’s awkward, but you find a way to straddle him after taking off your pants. You slowly slide his penis inside of you, smiling
“You feel soooo fucking good inside of me, Elliot”
‘Ride that cock, Y/N. It’s all yours, baby girl’
That sets you off. You take full control, tilting your hips and grinding into him, hitting exactly all the right spots, going slowly at first, but faster and faster as the pleasure and pressure builds. His brow furrows as he pants and looks into your eyes, hands holding your breasts, playing with your nipples.
All that tension between you two, you feel it coming to a head, rising to a point that will inevitably erupt.
‘That feels so fucking good, Y/N. This dick is all yours. I’m all yours, nobody’s else’s.’
“Oh god, oh my god” you scream as you explode in ecstasy “I’m cumming all over you, Elliot, oh my god, I’m cumming so fucking hard.’
Elliot feels you shaking and puts his hands around your hips
‘That’s right, baby, I want you to come all over me, Y/N. I fucking love it. It’s gonna make me cum.’ He stares into your eyes and for a moment, the world freezes. A supernova explodes and it’s like light comes pouring out of him. You finally see it, all of him, galaxies upon galaxies of light and beauty and wisdom.
‘I’m cumming, Y/N. I’m cumming so fucking hard for you.’
You collapse into his body, both of you shaking, chests heaving, both of your hearts full with growing adoration.
“You’re so beautiful, Elliot. I think I now how to end my poem now.”
‘I can’t wait to hear it’ he manages between panted breaths. He’s stroking your hair and everything is peaceful in this new world, in this private space that you two have created, a place you hope to never leave.
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i’ve had this idea of reader meeting dominic fike backstage at coachella and hitting it off for awhile but i never know how to do it justice so i’m hoping maybe you can
first of all, i want to thank you for the sweet and kind sentiment you left on my previous work. it gave me such warmth & i can't express my love & gratitude enough for you. thank you for requesting, i hope i did your idea justice<3
¥
You bounce your leg at a speed you didn’t know was possible. Heart beating a mile per second, breathing controlled, but erratic. You’re in Dominic’s tour bus, sitting next to Reed, as you wait for Dom to come back after his show.
You’re still trying to process how you got here in the first place, clicking your acrylics together in favor of not chewing on your bottom lip and messing up your lip combo. It all happened so fast that it feels like a fever dream.
Dominic’s show wasn’t for another hour, but you knew that if you didn’t start making your way over soon, you wouldn’t get barricade.
So you took your last bathroom break, separated from your friends, and started walking to his stage.
When you were just a few feet away from the front, you spotted a man hauling equipment. Then, of course, he tripped and everything tumbled from his hold.
By then, everyone had started making their way towards the stage, and barricade was filling up fast. The people who saw kept moving, and you really wanted to, too. But thanks to the heavyweight of your moral compass pointing directly at the man, you groaned and stomped in place like a child. Damn it.
You mumbled curses on your way over to him, but quickly straightened up and gave a bright smile when he noticed you approaching.
Carefully, you helped pick up the equipment and placed it neatly back in the man's arms. You didn't try to rush it, knowing your front-row spot is now non-existent.
He smiled at you graciously, a look of relief clear on his face.
“Thank you so much.” He sighed, digging his shoes in the grass as if to make sure they were on tighter this time.
“Of course, no problem.” You didn't want to look back at the field, but you couldn't help it. As you expected, in those few short minutes, it’s all filled up. You’d be all the way in the back, a far cry from where you would have been had you not stopped.
The man's eyes followed your gaze, then flicked back to you as you breathed out and slumped your shoulders. He puts two and two together and tilts his head. Making a decision quickly.
“Could you grab the orange cord on top of the black one please?” He asked you. “The last thing I want to do is trip over it again when Dominic needs that one the most.”
He watched your eyes widen, and your mouth open and close; fighting for what you should say next. Shit like this doesn’t happen to you.
The man hid his smirk by using his shoulder to rub at his nose. You settled for nodding wordlessly and grabbed the cord, not trusting your brain or your mouth. The man didn't hold back that time and laughed at you, then lead the way backstage.
Cable guy, whose name you now know as Dean, introduced you to Reed, and then filled him in on how you helped him at the cost of losing your barricade.
It was sweet, Reed smiled at you and held out his hand for a high-five. Going on to tell you thank you, and leaving with a promise to meet Dom after the show. Your mind went blank, head spinning around to make sure you weren’t on a reboot episode of Punk’d.
Granted, you shouldn’t have been surprised seeing as you just landed yourself backstage, but meeting him? That hadn’t crossed your mind not once.
“Huh, what? No really, it’s fine I just helped him pick up some cords. I–” You stumbled over your words, brain not quite catching up with what just left Reed’s mouth. He laughed at you, it was warm, but it had you shutting up in embarrassment.
“It’s cool. He won’t mind in the slightest.” With that, he checked his watch and began to walk away.
“You can watch the show from the side. I’ll come grab you before he leaves the stage.” And with that, he was gone.
True to his word, Reed did come back for you just as Dominic finished up Why.
Your eyes were glazed over in admiration as you watched him jump around the stage, his energy liquid hot. Your body thrummed at how perfectly the scene fit him. And in that moment you had forgotten you were going to meet him after this all ended.
Well, until Reed placed his hand on your shoulder and jumped you out of your stupor.
Now here you are, back pressed against the cool leather of the tour bus couch.
“You’ll be fine.” Reed says, swatting your hands away to stop your clicking. “He doesn’t bite.”
You give him a nervous chuckle and shove your hands under your thighs. You know this, but still. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s just another person at the end of the day. Just like you.
A human. A human who just so happens to be tall, talented, has tattoos, pretty eyes–
“Here he comes,” Reed whispers, and it’s then you hear his voice muffled behind the door, filtering in clearly when it yanks open. You see his leg first, then he’s fully coming up the stairs. Your heart stops, then drops to your stomach, he’s fucking beautiful.
Reed hops up and goes to greet him, going in for a dap that turns into a hug. You watch as he talks, curls pressed down and poking out from his crochet hat with floppy ears. They swing around with him, and you watch them move.
Scared that if you stare at Dom for a second too long, he’ll notice you before you have a chance to ground yourself. You stay seated, he hasn’t seen you yet and you’re grateful for it. Using that small window of time to take deep breaths.
You only get through one before you hear,
“Who’s this?”
Fuck.
You pick your head up and give him what you hope looks like a smile.
You introduce yourself, mentally patting yourself on the back for not stuttering your way through it. His head tilts to the side, eyebrows furrowed. Floppy ears fall with him.
“She’s the one who risked her spot at your barricade to help Dean.” Reed chips in.
Dom’s eyes go wide in realization and he smiles a smile that has your body run hot.
“Oh yeah! That was sick of you!” Your body goes lax.
“Thank you for that.” He continues.
You wave your hand up as if to brush off the sentiment. Cheeks starting to hurt from how hard you're smiling.
“Oh, no problem. My moral compass wouldn't have let me live it down.” He laughs and moves from around Reed. Arms out for a hug.
You don’t have time to think about it, your body moving on its own as reflex to not embarrass yourself more than you already have.
You stand up and reach to wrap your arms around his neck. His arms circle around your waist and squeeze. It feels routine like it’s something you’ve done many times with him. He’s warm, smells spicy but sweet, and he’s solid.
You feel his knuckles dig into your skin, then feel him spread his fingers open, palm now flat against the sides of your back. He squeezes you with more intent that way, you can almost feel the skin under your shirt, protruding from between his fingers.
It’s comforting, and you have to hide the sound of contentment you almost let out at the proximity. It rumbles deep in your chest, like a cat purring at a head scratch. It feels too natural.
Dominic’s pulling away before you can process it. The hug leaves you dopey and relaxed. You can breathe a bit better now, heartbeat reduced back to its normal beat. You miss the way Reed gives you a once over, a knowing grin stretched on his lips.
You feel as if you can speak regularly again, your brain no longer muddled and erratic. Conversation flows through you with ease.
“Your set was by far the best one I’ve seen today. You were insane.” You praise, hands moving wildly with your words. Dom laughs and brings a hand to rub at the nape of his neck.
“Thank you. It was my first show since tour, and I performed some new music. I was hella nervous.”
“Yes! I noticed. Mama’s boy was sick!” By now, your nerves were reduced to nothing. The realization that he’s a person just like you finally making the forefront of your brain.
You move back a little and take a seat on the couch, tucking one of your legs underneath you. Dom follows, and sits across, leaving some distance in between.
“How long have you been a fan?” You tilt your head up in thought, wondering how you should word it.
“Um, since 2020? I actually remember seeing a picture of you on Tumblr back in like 2018 and was like ‘Wow he’s hot.’” Dominic snickers behind his hand. “But I had no idea you made music until I heard Vampire.”
“Oh shit, I performed that during tour.” You nod excitedly, “Yes, I remember! I was at one of the shows. It’s one of my favorites, so hearing it live was godsend.” Dominic’s cheeks turn a hue of red, his dimples poking.
“Yeah, it’s a favorite of mine to perform. Were there any that you wanted to make the setlist?”
“Yeah, actually.” You clear your throat and sit more upright in your seat. Your personality doesn’t take long to show out once you deem yourself comfortable. Your next move of action is an example of that.
“Wonder if she fuck dis 'cause she think we gon’ be…rich!” You move your arms up in a dramatic manner and shake your head as if you’re in a rap video. “Hol’ on hol’ on–”
Just as you had hoped, Dominic lets out a laugh so loud it vibrates through you, causing you to break character to laugh with him.
“I don’t see what’s so funny. Your rap career was a cultural reset.” You point, shrugging your shoulders, and raising an eyebrow.
Dominic’s laugh is nasal, deep, and boyish. It has your stomach swirling and you swear bright pink hearts are in your eyes. His hat falls off when he tilts his head back, and you barely catch it before it can hit the floor.
Dominic straightens up, a hand on his stomach as if it would help keep his laughs in. Eventually, they fade into giggles, and he’s breathing out a “God.”
“I honestly wasn’t expecting that. That shit was funny. You're funny.” You tuck the hat under your arm to free your hands and bow.
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all night folks.” You send a wink.
Dom shakes his head, then he notices his hat. You jump up.
“Oh yeah, here. It slipped off. It’s really nice, where’d you get it?” You go to give it back to him, but he holds his hands up.
“You can try it on if you want, it was a gift from my brother.”
“Oh, he crotches? I actually just picked up on that myself” You say, flipping the hat around to find the opening and tug it on your head.
You move the ears back so they’re laying on their respective sides and look up at him, smiling and tilting your head to the left in a vogue-like pose.
“So, what do you think? Am I giving Dominic Fike 2.0?” He doesn’t say anything for a second too long, and it’s enough to have your bit of confidence pit in your stomach. You suddenly feel sick. Before you can spill out an apology, scared you’d gotten too comfortable, he speaks.
“You look beautiful in it.” Your eyebrows raise and you squeeze your hands in your lap, lips slightly parted open. The pit in your stomach worsens, but not for the same reason.
He stares at you, his eyes follow the shape of your eyebrows, to the point of your nose, down to the plumpness of your lips. His gaze is unnerving in the best way possible and you find yourself wanting to always be under it.
“Oh, thank you.” You pull at the ears on Dom’s hat, “Your silence scared the hell out of me though, don’t do that again.” You reach over and lightly punch his knee. He’s about to say something else when Reed makes his presence known. Both you and Dominic jump at his voice.
“As much as I hate to cut this short, Dom we have to get going.” Dominic whips his head back at Reed.
“Damn, you scared the shit out of me man, I forgot you were here.”
“Me too.” You breathe, hand on your heart. As much as you’d love to drag this out, you know when to not push your luck. So you stand up and fake a pout.
“It was really nice meeting you. Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to talk with me.” Dominic stand up too, “Of course, thanks to you I was able to perform on time.”
He mimics your pout and opens his arms out for another hug, which you gladly accept. This one was a bit longer, and you aren’t afraid to squeeze him back now. You wrap your arms around his middle this time and rest your head on his shoulder. Dom’s face nuzzles into the hat and you can’t help but giggle in his arms at the cat-like gesture.
The chances of this happening again are slim to nothing, so you make sure to bask in it. Taking a deep breath, and humming. You’re the first to pull away, arms lingering on his side for one more squeeze before pulling away completely.
He’s looking at you with the same dopey smile you had given him earlier, and it would have caught you off guard if it werent for the fact that you’re giving him the same look.
“Oh!” You start, fishing for your phone in your back pocket. “Can we take a picture?” Dom nods, “Of course, I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”
You look at Reed in silent question, and he hold his hand out gladly accepting your phone.
A total of seven pictures are taken. And the one that you end up loving the most is the picture of Dom hugging you from behind, his arms wrapped around your neck and your hands coming up to hold them. His face is smushed against yours, both of you in the middle of laughing as you start to tilt over. One of the ears from the hat that’s still on your head wrapped around his head.
It’s looks domestic, familiar. A warmth nestles in your chest.
Dominic’s looking over your shoulder as you scroll through them, and at the same time you favorite the image, he’s speaking.
“Could you send me those? Especially that one.” Your heart just can’t catch a break today.
“Sir, yes sir.” You open Instagram and find his profile, messaging him the pictures.
Reed checks his watch, and you know your times truly up. You begin walking towards the door, and Dom reaches around you to push it open.
“Thank you again!” You smile, looking from Reed to Dom. Your head feels hotter now that sun is beating down on you, and you realize you still have the hat on. You let out a sound of surprise and hurriedly pat your head to take it off.
“No, keep it. It looks prettier on you.” You roll your eyes and put your hands down.
“You better stop sweet talking me before you fall in love with me.” You point a finger at him, starting to walk backwards. He laughs out, and leans against the door.
“Maybe I already am, who knows?” He tilts his head up in challenge and raises his eyebrows. He’s going to be the death of you.
“Bye Dom.” You grin, waving goodbye. He yells out a farewell, saying your name in a medieval tone. You gave him one more giggle before turning around, and walking off. Looking to meet up with your friends and leave the festival.
It’s not till you’re showered, and back home in bed that you check your socials again. You open Instagram and see a slew of notifications. One that says Dominic has followed you, and another that he posted on his story.
You click his story first, and it’s one of the pictures you sent. This one is the selfie you took. You’re holding up the phone, one of your arms wrapped around Dominic’s neck and your hand cupping the side of his face, while he’s leaning into your neck.
Your head lays on top of his, hat ears falling to the side. You both share a closed-eye smile. You feel your heart flutter, then you look at the words in the top corner.
“I’ve been convinced to play Jada Pinkett next show.” A laugh of disbelief comes out and you heart the story. It’s then your phone vibrates with a DM.
dominicfike: You free right now?
dominicfike: Facetime?
#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike smut#elliot#elliot euphoria#elliot imagine#elliot smut#dominic fike imagine#elliot euphoria imagine#elliot fanfic#dominic fike fic#dominic fike#dominic fike x reader#elliot imagines#elliot x reader#elliot fan fiction euphoria#elliot fan fiction#dominic fike request#elliot request
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Guilty Pleasure
Elliot x Reader
Warnings: S M U T
a/n: the long and awaited smut is now here...this is what y’all really wanted huh?
i hope you all enjoy this, probably one of my favorite pieces :P
¥
“We—ah shouldn’t be doing t-this.” You stutter in his ear when the tip of his tongue flicks at your nipple. Elliot feels your thighs try to jerk close as they sit on either side of his lap, the muscles trembling against the fabric of his jeans.
Your sweater is bunched up over your chest and rests on the crown of Elliot’s head—chest heaving as you wrap your arms around his neck and cradle the back of his head to pull him closer, lips now sucking on your perky tit.
“Elliot, please, you have a girl—fuck!” Your head lolls back when he snaps his hips up, cock hard enough through his jeans to put delicious pressure on your clit through your sweatpants.
“You talk too damn much,” He mutters into the underside of your chin. He quickly moves his hands up from your ass and into the arch in your back, keeping you from leaning onto the horn. A Range in an empty parking lot at two in the morning, already raises enough suspicion.
“Shh, it’s okay.” He says, slowly moving his hips against yours, “What she doesn't know can’t hurt her.”
Yes, Elliot is aware, that’s probably the shittiest thing he could say and do to another woman, but he can’t help who he yearns for. You’re just everything Jules isn’t. You tempt him without trying, without knowing. If your signs were more evident from the beginning, Elliot could swear right away, that he’d been fucking you rather than Jules. No shame in it at all.
Jules wouldn’t have been a thought, a name that crossed his mind. He had to settle for someone that wasn’t you. And now? Now things are complicated as a result. Now you both are participating in one of the worst betrayals, but you can’t find it in yourselves to care. Not when the object of your desire, the guilty pleasure you’ve both been wanting for months, is finally within reach.
You don’t try to protest much after that; your will to leave wasn’t that strong from the beginning. Instead, you channel all your focus on Elliot and nothing else. Your hands pull his hoodie up from his jeans, fingers running over the dips and ridges on his stomach and chest before settling on his collarbone to take the hoodie off.
Leaning back on his lap, cautious of the horn, you stare down at him, your hair curling at the forehead and lips swollen—sweater falling back down, crumpled, over your torso. God, he can’t wait to fucking destroy you.
Your eyes follow the ink up his arms. The single copper street lamp in the lot acts as a projector for the rain pelting the window, casting a show on the two of you and emitting just enough light for you to see each other.
“Looking so fucked out already, and we haven't even started,” Elliot breathes, “Am I that good?” You groan and press down on his cock, getting impatient. He jolts at the unexpected pressure, your fingers making quick work of his belt buckle.
You throw the metal clasp apart and unzip his jeans, dancing your fingertips over his abdomen—biting the inside of your cheek when he clenches under your feather touches.
“What do you want me to do, Elly?” You mouth at his neck, fingers nipping at his boxers, and now and then brushing over the apparent tent in the cotton.
You feed off praise, orders, and reactions. That realization alone slaps Elliot into a daze, his cock twitching at the thought of you bending in any way he orders you to just so you could please him. He’s going to have so much fun with you.
He spreads his legs further apart and rolls his hips up, peering up at you with hooded lids, lips parted with heavy breathes. Without a word, the anticipation rolling off in waves, Elliot wraps his larger hand around yours—the size difference-making his mouth dry—and slips them down his boxers.
All while keeping eye contact with you, he squeezes your hands around his cock and hisses. He watches you tremble on his lap. The feeling of your clit pulsing on his thigh, gives him all the affirmation he needs to keep going.
“I want you,” he starts,“To keep your hand just like this, and work my cock up and down.” Your eyes stay on his. Top lip twitching.
“Like this?” You whisper, moving your hand just as he instructed, twisting and turning. Elliot groans and uses his free hand to wrap around the headrest, situating himself.
“Yeah, just like that baby,” At the praise, your nipples harden through your sweater. Once again, the buds yearn for some type of relief, and Elliot holds back a chuckle at how sensitive you are.
“Fuck Elliot.” You whimper, your conjoined hands picking up speed. You reach down with your free hand and pull his boxers further down. His heart stutters when you shake your hand from out under his and instead wrap it around his tip to run your thumb over the slit—jerking him faster.
“Mhm, like that, baby. Doing so well for me.” He rasps, arching off the seat and lolling his neck back against the headrest. He grinds up into your fist, his moans the hottest sound, and you feel your pussy leak another glob of arousal.
You keep your eyes on his face, on his reactions. His tiny whimpers.
“Shit, baby. Please don’t stop.” God, this felt so right, you couldn’t help but feel like he was meant for you. That you’re the only one deserving to see him like this. Feel him like this.
Lost in the feeling of everything you, Elliot gasps when you suddenly press your lips on his collarbone, peppering kisses up his throat before biting down on the spot under his ear. A bruise sucked on his skin and the pleasure shooting right to his cock.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Stop.” He shakily tries to push you back, the only place he wants to cum is inside you. Nowhere else. But you being the eager slut you are, keen to see him fall apart, doesn’t listen, instead picking up your pace and sucking another bruise on his neck.
Disobedient.
Elliot grips the back of your head by your hair, and with his other hand, yanks your wrist away—squeezing it tightly.
“I told you to stop.” He mutters, eyeing your frazzled state. Poor baby, you haven’t gotten any relief.
“I bet your pussy is soaking right now. Clit swollen and sticky, aching for my tongue.”
“Yes, please.” You mewl, trying to tug his hand into your sweats. Elliot tuts at your disability to listen and pulls his hand away from your wrist to wrap it around your throat.
“Do you think you deserve my mouth on your pussy? After that stunt you pulled? You really think you deserve it? Hm?”
Your eyes gloss over, pleading, begging him for something. Anything.
“Please?” You whisper, hands shaking at your side. That’s the only word you could utter. He dwindled you down into a pleading mess. A whimpering, begging whore. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t loving every second of it. Elliot tilts his head to the side in false thought, eyes raking over every inch of your flushed face. He wants to remember you like this.
“Come on. You can do much better than that.” He pouts and uses the hand that was once gripping your hair to press down on your clit through your sweats.
Tears build at your waterline, threatening to spill when you buck up. The night was nowhere near over, but you’re already feeling neglected. You just wanted him to relieve you, preferably by being stuffed with his cock, but this will have to do until he was done playing with you. You could do it. You waited this long for him. You could be good for him. You will be good for him.
“I’ll do anything, Elliot, anything. Please touch me. Fuck me, something.” You cry, “I’ll be good for you, I promise.” Elliot grins a Cheshire cat-like grin, loving how much he dumbed you down to the point where your thought process is nothing but him.
“There we go, baby, now was that so hard?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, reaching down to the side of his seat for the lever and pushing it back.
You tumble on top of him with a yelp but can barely process the new position before he’s tugging off your pants. He tosses them to the side and slaps your bare ass. The sting mixing with the sudden rush of cold air on your skin, makes you tremble. You move to rid your panties, but Elliot slaps your hands away,
“Leave em’. You look so pretty with them on.” He moves to lay down under and nips at your lips, “Now up.”
You don’t waste a second, scrambling up until your clothed pussy is hovering right over his face, hands gripping the back seat headrest. The heat from your pussy radiates over his face, and Elliot blows cool air. He chuckles when your hips buck up.
“So pretty.” He whispers, hooking a finger to pull your panties to the side to place a kiss on your clit. Then another, then he starts languidly making out with your pussy. He’s teasing, his mouth right on your clit but not necessarily focused there.
You whine, mouth open and eyes screwed shut when his mouth works sloppily over you. The sounds make your stomach clench, but it’s just not enough. And Elliot knows, it’s not enough.
“Come on!” You moan impatiently, knuckles turning white against the seat. Elliot chuckles and pulls your panties fully off your legs. He sticks his tongue out, wraps his arms around each of your thighs, then pulls you down on his tongue.
“Ride my face,” He mumbles against your pussy, and you immediately start grinding your hips.
Your hands get clammy against the leather, and the lewd sounds of Elliot slurping you up echo throughout the car. You’re not sure what you're begging for anymore, Elliot’s name chanting past your lips like a prayer.
He has a pattern that he keeps up, sucking on your clit, before twisting his way between your folds, then sticking his tongue out and curving the end up firmly for you to ride on. It’s all too much, the white-hot coil tightening in your abdomen quicker than you would like. Your thighs start to shake again, and you're clenching around nothing, hips picking up speed. Elliot groans into you, tongue breaking pattern to trace each letter of his name.
Your face is pressed harshly against the headrest, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you yell.
“I’m gonna cum. Fuck I’m gonna cum!” And right when your coil was going to snap, right when you swear you could see the end of your sweet release, Elliot twists your thighs off his face and over his shoulders—flipping them sideways and fully propelling you into the backseat. You lay there dumbfounded, both too confused and aggravated from a neglected orgasm.
“What the fuck, Elliot?” You curse, watching him crawl over the armrest and situate himself in the seat next to you. Boxers and jeans gone.
“Did you really think I would let you cum that easily?” He arches an eyebrow. “After the shit you pulled?” His nose, down to his chin gleam with your juices.
He notices your stare and flicks his tongue out, licking his lips and around his mouth. Making a show out of it.
“Mhm, so sweet.” He downright moans, and you shiver. The entire thing was nasty, obscene. And you wanted, needed more. He pats his thighs, and you immediately climb on top of his lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck again, and pulling him down so his lips hover over yours.
“You gonna fuck me now?” You whisper against them, his hot breath fans over your face when he lets out a soft “Fuck.”
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He muses against your lips, “Want me to claim your pretty pussy as mine?” He reaches down between your bodies and presses two fingers on your clit, rubbing slow circles.
“Look at that, you’re trembling over just my fingers.” Your thighs jerk close when he slips two of them inside, breath caught.
“Elly please. Need you inside. Wanna ride you.” Elliot laughs, pulls his fingers out and taps your lips. You open like the good girl your are for him and suck on his fingers, tasting yourself.
“Such a slut for me aren’t you?” He grins, and pats your thigh for you to lift up so he can line himself with your pussy. With his hands now on your hips, he guides you down to his cock. His thighs tensing at the porn-worthy moan you let out at the feeling of finally being full. Elliot has to resit the urge of fucking you dumb when he looks up to see you dazed. Hips slowly moving to build up a rhythm.
“Go on and show me why it should’ve been you from the beginning.”
#elliot#elliot smut#elliot fanfic#elliot imagines#elliot imagine#euphoria#euphoria smut#elliot euphoria#elliot euphoria imagine#elliot smut euphoria#dominic fike imagine#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike smut#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike fic#elliot fan fiction euphoria#elliot fan fiction#smut
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7:13 AM
reader x dominic fike
warnings: none
a/n: feeling incredibly soft tonight, so here’s some morning fluff :,) could very well be errors, i was too excited to get my first post out...enjoy!
¥
It’s truly adorable. The way the pillow half swallows up his face. How his lashes rest gently against the apple of his cheeks while he sleeps. His pink lips molded together unevenly as he breathes long, calm breaths. He looks placid.
Bringing your hand up, you comb your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails over his scalp. He let his hair air dry after his shower last night, and it made his bleached curls soft and fluffy. You couldn’t be happier at the easy slip.
The affection causes him to stir a bit, unintelligible mumbles spurring out his lips. He peeks open one eye, then the other. The early sunlight that spills in through your sheer curtains beams onto them and suddenly it's like you're looking into clear jars of syrup.
It complimented him a little too well, but he can hardly keep his eyes open long enough for you to stare. He looks over your face and smiles lazily, bringing his large hand to your hip to give it a firm squeeze.
“Good morning,” You whisper, shuffling closer to him under the sheets. He lifts his head to glance at the wall clock over the bed. Neck stretching his tattoo out for your prying eyes.
7:13 am.
Dominic groans, pushes you over, and moves on top. He snuggles his head into your stomach, and his thumbs rub circles on your thighs. Absentmindedly tracing the stretch marks he adores so much.
“It’s too early,” he whines, shaking his head. You snicker, and continue running your fingers through his hair.
“We’ve got to get ready for the day, Dom. I have that study date with Aria and you’re supposed to be at the studio by 10.” You shuffle around a bit, your hand moving down to rub his neck.
Dominic ignores you and presses a kiss to your hip bone.
“No,” he mumbles like a child, moving up, so he’s tucked securely in your neck. One hand wrapped around your torso and the other trailing up your t-shirt to rest on your tit. You sigh and let him lay there for a few more moments, knowing it would be fruitless to try and get him up now.
Your eyes skim around the room in the meantime. It’s mellow and calm in the early morning of October.
Rays of yellow light gleaming into the room with a light breeze coming in from the open window, Dominic pulled up the night before. The curtains dance with the current and floating particles of dust that were once invisible are now visible in the sun’s rays.
It’s mornings like these that make your heart swell, where you feel the most at peace. Where you wish you could pause and stay forever in your safe haven.
You glance down at Dominic to see he, sure enough, did fall back asleep. Soft snores leaving his parted lips once again. Hot breath fanning your neck.
With the morning dragging on, you reach over on the nightstand with a bit of strain and grab your phone. Thumbing a text to Aria.
[7:21 am]
Are we still on for our study sesh?
She replies almost instantly.
[7:21 am]
yeah, duh, i’m not failing this psych exam bitch
You snort, causing Dominic to stir in his sleep and bury himself deeper into your neck if that’s even possible. Actually, is that safe?
[7:23 am]
Alright, good. I would love to try and get my day started, but Dom’s clinging to me like a koala and refuses to get up
You hold your phone up and take a selfie of him, his face barely showing with how smushed into you he is.
[7:27 am]
awh, cute! but please remember, I made reservations at 10:30 for breakfast before studying! don’t be late!
[7:27 am]
Lmao, I won’t. I promise
[7:30 am]
you said that last time & i almost ended the friendship because of it...
Okay, so maybe your time management is complete ass, but it’s rarely ever your fault. You toss your phone somewhere on the bed and poke Dominic’s cheeks.
“Hey, you wanna wake up now, sleepyhead?” He shakes his head, refusing to leave your side.
Hence, Exhibit A.
“Why can’t we just lay like this all day.” His voice is muffled against your skin. You laugh out, your chest rumbling causing him to smile.
“We did that all day yesterday.” You push him off of you, with much effort, and climb on top. He groans, throwing one of his arms over his face to block the sun, as your thighs now straddle his hips.
“Yeah, and it was perfect. I just wanna cuddle again and do nothing. Eat that mega pack of Halloween Oreos too.” You roll your eyes at his laziness and tug his arm off his face. You’re met with a with a pout—such a baby.
“When you get back this evening, we can cuddle as much as you want,” You offer, moving his hands to your hips and squeezing up his arms.
“And eat those Oreos?” His fingertips play with the lace band of your panties.
You scoff.
“After dinner, yes, we can eat the mega pack of spooky Oreos.” Dominic cracks a smile and holds out his pinky. You could have sworn he told you he was adult. Not 12.
“Promise. You big baby.” You link your pinky with his and bend down to kiss his nose, giggling at the way his face scrunches up.
“Alrighty then,” You sing, swinging your legs off him and getting off the bed,
“I’m gonna shower.” You stretch, and reach down to grab your towel off the bedpost.
“Funny, I was gonna do the same,” Dominic starts, then without warning, slaps your ass. Hard. You gasp, turning to give him a look that he swears could kill, while rubbing a hand on your stinging ass cheek.
“Last one in cooks dinner tonight!” He shouts, running out the room before you could land a punch on his arm.
“Dominic!” You scream, throwing your towel over your shoulder and running after him.
His throaty laugh and “Babe wait!” in-between the laughs, ringing through your apartment.
#dominic fike imagines#domimic fike#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike smut#Elliot#elliot imagine#elliot euphoria#elliot fanfic#elliot fan fiction#Elliot smut#elliot fan fiction euphoria#elliot imagines#elliot euphoria imagine#dominic fike imagine#fluff#dominic fike fluff#dominic fike fic
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could u do a morning/night cuddling with dom blurb/oneshot ?? him just being super clingy and soft
hi:) thank u for requesting, & thank u even more for ur paitence! this is a bit short, but sweet. and as always i seemed to have taken a sappier route. i do hope u love this, but please feel free to message me if this wasn't up to ur liking, i have no problem catering to u<3
¥
You’re fresh out of the shower, and dressed for bed when you hear it.
A rhythmic knock at your apartment door. A spoon full of ice cream sits frozen in your mouth, and you still in your bed. You furrow your eyebrows and glance at the clock. It's 12 am, and last time you checked, none of your friends had mentioned stopping by.
At the same time the knocking stops, your phone chimes with a text.
Dom: open the fucking door
You grin and sit up, spoon still between your lips.
You: U have a fuckin key
You: Use it
You: I'm not gettin out of bed
You swear you can hear muttered curses from outside, and a bag drop.
Dom: fucking prick
A few minutes pass, and the door opens. You hear him close and lock it, then the sound of your fridge opening.
You go in for another scoop of ice cream, a smile big on your face when shuffling is heard coming down the hallway. You can hardly conceal your giddiness.
You haven’t seen your boyfriend in just over a week, he had a week-long studio session with Kenny. So to say that you were feigning to see him again would be an understatement.
Just as you pull your spoon from your lips, your bedroom door swings open and there he stands.
Backpack slung over his shoulder, and his hair a bit damp from what you assume is from a shower.
He looks at you, trying to look irritated, but there’s a smile under it. In fact, it wants to show out so badly, that Dominic turns around, takes a deep breath then faces you again.
You burst into laughter, and it’s then he can’t pretend anymore. He grins so big his eyes start to crinkle, and he drops his bag to the floor.
“You’re such a prick for making me dig for my keys.” He starts, kicking off his Crocs, and tugging off his hoodie.
“Ah yes, I think I read something like that in the text you sent me.” You shrug, placing your bowl and spoon on your nightstand, knowing what's about to come.
Dominic nods his head and sucks his teeth.
“Mhm, so since you wanna be smart, you know what’s coming right?” He closes your bedroom door and gets into a running position. Your grin has yet to wipe off your face, and you scurry over to your side of the bed.
“Dom I swear.” You start, it’s a fake warning. You know it, and he does too.
“Too late.” Then he breaks off into a mini-sprint and lunges himself onto your bed. He makes sure to land softly, but sturdy. Landing right on top of you.
You scream and your arms automatically spring out and wrap around him. You lock your legs around his waist and cling to him like a koala. He laughs with you, pulling his head up to tilt it back, and you melt.
He looks youthful. Happy. Content. You’re own laughing slows, and eventually fades out. You can’t help but admire him in this state. He looks absolutely beautiful, and you can’t believe he’s all yours.
You unwrap your arms from his neck and bring your hands up to cup his face. It’s then his laughs simmer down. He’s looking at you, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in atmosphere. He sees the faraway look in your eyes, they almost seem to be glazed over and glimmering. You swipe your thumb over the apple on his cheek, and Dom softly smiles.
“You’re beautiful Dominic.” You lift a hand up from his face to his hair; raking it back before settling back on his cheek. “I love you so much.” You breathe.
The air around the two of you gets warm. Feels heavy, but in the way of comfort. His lips slightly part. He breathes out a laugh, and looks off to the side, shaking his head.
“God, what did I do to deserve you.” Before you can reply, Dom leans down and places his lips on yours. You gasp, but it doesn't take you long to recover. You kiss him back with fever, you press back with intention and pressure. It’s sweet. It’s languid, and it’s home.
You bring a hand up behind his neck and press him in deeper. There’s nothing sloppy or obscene about it. It’s intimate; a moment reserved only for you and Dominic. You could spend a lifetime kissing him. Having him wrapped in your embrace. This is worth everything to you.
To your dismay, he pulls away from your lips and just brushes his over yours gently. He kisses down your jaw, to your neck, then ends his trail on your shoulder.
On his way down he mumbles sweet nothings, expressing his love and admiration for you after each kiss. You have to keep yourself from drowning under it all. It doesn’t take much for you to want to be completely consumed by him. By everything that makes Dominic, Dominic.
He pulls back, and your hand goes right back to his face. Both your thumbs swipe at the x’s on his lids, and Dom sighs.
You unwrap your legs from his waist, and you maneuver yourselves under the comforter. Dom still lies on top of you, now in between your legs, head on your chest. You have him held secure in your arms, as he traces patterns on your hipbone.
Every now and then softly snapping the fabric of your panties against it. He leans down to place a tender kiss on your skin, then lifts up to leave one more kiss on your lips. It’s soft and heavy. You have to fight the urge to keep him there.
You feel his body melt into yours, when he goes back to your chest. His heartbeat begins to slow, stepping into rhythm with yours.
The soft scratching of your nails in his hair, your fingertips dipping inside the top of his shirt to rub at his back. It’s all so warm.
Whatever was weighing on his shoulders. Whatever was plaguing his mind. Whatever was being said about him, draining his mental and will to succeed in his work. It’s all burned.
Burned away by the warmth only you seem to emit. It comes from your lips when you kiss him. It comes from your arms when you hold him. And it comes from your eyes when you look at him as if he’s the sun and stars. And it’s all for him.
“I love you too.” He mumbles, leaning up to leave a kiss on the underside of your chin.
#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike smut#elliot#elliot euphoria#elliot imagine#elliot smut#dominic fike imagine#elliot euphoria imagine#elliot fanfic#dominic fike fic#dominic fike#dominic fike x reader#elliot imagines#elliot x reader#elliot euphoria fanfiction#elliot euphoria x reader#dominic x reader#elliot euphoria fanfic#dominic fike fanfic#amira requests
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Pink
dominic fike x reader
warning(s): smutty smut smutt yo, try at some plot yet again, lil long and all that…this filthy yall
a/n: there's for sure a ton of grammar edits that need to be made, so bear with me while i work on them! i can never seem to catch them all first day
enjoy, thanks to this yummy ass freaky ass request lmao 💗 sorry it took so long, i'm a slow writer...
¥
You sit between Dominic, your thighs spread and thrown over his legs.
He lays back against the headboard, pink blankets, and furry throw pillows around the two of you as he trails his hands up your quivering legs.
Your canopy, a sheer pink fabric floating above your bed, does little to hide the two of you.
His warm palm contradicts the chill of the rings littering his fingers–and it makes you jolt when they caress your inner thigh.
He’s fully dressed.
A well-worn leather jacket, its surface scuffed and softened with time, hangs open over a plain fitted t-shirt, showing his solid build underneath. And jeans, their denim rough against the smooth skin of your legs.
The build-up to this wasn’t the most ideal. A lot of pent-up frustration.
He’d asked you to come with him to his YSL after-party. Usually, you'd be ready to transform yourself into his arm candy for the night, the touch of his hand lingering on your lower back as you walked into the club with him.
But this time, a different kind of excitement bubbled within you – your best friend's birthday party.
You'd promised weeks ago to go clubbing with her and some friends, and the thought of letting her down felt worse than seeing the frown that started creasing your boyfriend's forehead.
A tense silence stretched over the two of you.
"You're going out with them again?" his voice was flat, a stark contrast to his usual playful tone. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.
"It's Aria's birthday, Dom," you say, jutting your hip and leaning your weight to your right leg. "I promised weeks ago."
"This is the third time this month you’ve blown me off," he countered, sucking his teeth. "It's a big night for me. You fuckin’ know that man!”
A part of you understood, a nagging guilt prickling at your conscience. Maybe if you’d mentioned her birthday earlier, things could have been different.
But you also had a life, commitments you couldn't break at the last minute. Silence stretched between you again before you stated you were going for a shower, not having the energy for an argument.
You came out of the bathroom to an empty apartment, and anger started to simmer beneath your skin.
No goodbye kiss, no I love you.
Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself. Tonight was about Aria. Not you, and not your pissy boyfriend. You wouldn't let his actions ruin your night.
Glancing at your phone, you switched it off. Letting silence and your disconnect speak for you. You hope he got the message.
He did.
Swaying slightly, you walked back into your apartment, the gems stitched into your tight two-piece glimmering in the warped light of the city skyline that was bleeding in through your windows.
It was your skimpiest set, one that usually earned a cheeky ass grab from Dominic.
You’d only worn it once and promised only to wear it when going out with him.
Which is why he clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose when he saw you saunter in through the door at two am in that same set—reaching for the wall to peel off your boots.
Completely oblivious to his presence.
He watched as a giggle escaped your lips when you turned to look at yourself in the hallway mirror.
Your mascara and eyeliner smudged and the glitter eyeshadow you'd swiped from Aria’s makeup bag, migrated into tiny, shimmering stars under your eyes.
Your eyes are red and lidded, a remnant from the blunt you and Aria hotboxed her car with before she dropped you off.
Combined with the tequila swirling in your system, you were in a heady euphoria. Ready for sleep, the comfort of your pajamas, and your bed.
Breathing a content sigh, you turned towards the living room, and your playful smile vanished the moment your eyes met your boyfriend's sprawled form on the couch.
The two tequila shots sloshed comfortably in your stomach, but the weed buzzed a different kind of energy through you. Your limbs felt light, almost detached, and the edges of the room seemed hazy,
Dominic being the only thing your mind was processing.
Your argument replayed in your mind, a sour note against the fuzzy high. He sat with his hands clasped loosely in his lap, legs sprawled, and his posture slouched.
His gaze roamed your body, lingering a second too long on your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your top, before flicking back up to meet your eyes.
He looked pissed, and a chill of satisfaction wisped over you.
With an off balanced sway in your hips, you stumble over to him, ready to piss him off more than he already looked.
The closer you got, the air hung heavy with the acrid scent of a strain you’re familiar with. He was high, pupils dilated and glassy, mirroring yours.
There was an edge to him, a dangerous undercurrent, and it only fueled your ego. A twisted knot of pleasure growing in your chest knowing you were the reason for it.
You grinned, throwing one leg on either side of his thighs, straddling him on the couch. Dominic lifts his eyes to yours, staring you down despite being under you.
You feel his body flex under you.
“Awh, you look pissed baby.” you pouted, voice dripping with mock sympathy. You tilted your head to the side raking your acrylics through his hair, and pushing it back from his face. His eyebrow piercing glinted when his head knocked to the side under the aggression of your hand.
The saccharine dripping from your voice was enough to curdle milk. "What’s wrong? You can tell Mama." you cooed, nodding with fake concern.
Dominic's jaw clenched, a flicker of something like a warning sparking in his eyes before he let out a humorless laugh, licking his bottom lip and looking away from your face.
His leg started to bounce, a telltale sign of his patience wearing thin.
You weren't sure where this new attitude came from, but a thrill snaked through you as you realized you were effectively getting under his skin.
The earlier fight still hung heavy for you, and you found yourself reveling in this power trip.
Before he could pull away, your hand tightened around the fist full you had of his hair and yanked him back to face you.
"Oh, I think I know," you purred. "Is Dommy mad that I turned my phone off?" You pouted again, the childish facade at odds with the glint in your eyes.
"Yeah, that's what it is, isn't it? Or is it because I wore your favorite little two-piece without you?”
You pulled his head back so his adams apple was barred, “Maybe next time don’t leave without acknowledging me first, yeah?”
You leaned in, lips hovering over Dominic’s. You could smell the mint and alcohol in his breath, before moving to his ear.
“Fuck you.” You whispered, patting his cheek with a smile.
Pleased, you moved to get off him but halted when his hand grabbed at your hips and squeezed tight, forcing you back. You gasped at the sudden pressure, wincing slightly when he pressed harder over the bone.
“Are you fucking stupid?” Before you could sass him back, Dominic’s hand flew to your neck and pressed at the pleasure points on the side of your throat.
“Oh come on, you didn’t expect me to let you talk to me like that?” Your clit pulsed, this is a side of your boyfriend you’d never seen. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t getting worked up by his attitude. You pressed down on his lap and felt his dick hard and poking under his jeans–a grin spread across your lips.
“But you like it,” You wrapped your fingers around his hand on your neck, and slightly squeezed, not breaking eye contact. “Don’t you Dommy?”
And now you’re in your current position.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy,” Dominic mutters. The hand that’s not working your thigh, sliding down your top to fondle your tits. Your nails dig into his leg, a whimper leaving your lips.
“You know better than that.” He flicks your clit through your shorts, and a pathetic squeal comes out of your throat at the pain. This was a side you weren’t familiar with, a side of him you didn’t know he could tap into. You’re unsure how to act, but a sick thrill washes over you.
“Dom please,” You breathe, “I didn’t mean—.”Dominic tuts, and muffles you with the palm of his hand.
“Yeah, you did, baby.” he slips his hand into your shorts and presses two fingers against your swollen clit, rubbing soft circles that causes your breath to catch. He’s barely applying pressure, just toying with you.
“No panties huh?” he tilted his head back, nostrils flaring as he expelled a long breath. The movement sent a shiver down your spine, and your stomach lurched.
You suck in a shaky breath, lips parting to defend yourself when his fingers tap on your lips with surprising force. He pushes them through and lets his middle and index fingers press down your tongue.
“Learn to just shut the fuck up.” he runs his tongue along the top of your ear and is quick to move his hand up from your shorts–pressing on your abdomen to bring you down when your hips buck up.
“Fuck!” you whine around his fingers, head lolling to the side, hand squeezing at his leather jacket.
He chuckles and tugs your shorts off, and he lands a smack against your sticky cunt before you can sigh in relief at finally having your shorts off.
Your vision blurs for a second, the sharp sting lacing through you. Your eyes fly shut, a surprised gasp leaving you. Fingers twitching. You’ve never felt this before, and your pussy tingles in want at the pleasured pain.
“You really wanted to piss me off tonight, huh?” his voice comes out scratchy and low. Like a threat, and you can’t help the way your cunt throbs. “Just needed everyone’s fuckin’ attention.”
You try to jerk your thighs close, but Dom’s quicker than you. Firmly gripping the meat of your thigh, and forcefully pressing down your right from the left.
His fingers still loosely hang out the side of your mouth, your spit slick across the side of your face. Your pussy leaks, both from pain and arousal, and you’re desperate for more.
Moving you around so that your legs are spread wider Dom pins you firmly against his chest.
“You don’t even deserve this.” he finally applies pressure to your clit, and your chest stutters. Sweat coats your body in a thin sheen making you appear dewy under the lit skyline pouring through your room window.
Dominic hooks his chin over your shoulder and peers his eyes down to your soaked cunt. He spreads your lips with his pointer and ring finger, the sound lewd. Your juices glimmer in the low light and Dom’s cock twitches in his jeans.
“Fuck, look at that,” he whispers, using the pad of his middle finger to just barely brush over your pearl. Your body quivers, fingers spazzing when you throw your head back against Dom’s shoulder.
“I—” You stutter, trying to find words.
“Hm?” He taunts, pulling his fingers away from your pussy and to his lips. You whimper at the loss of contact, eyes blown wide when Dominic makes a show of sucking off fingers. He opens his eyes just barely, and peers over at you. “Where’d all that mouth go?”
You try to speak again, but your mind blanks when the sound of Dominic’s belt unclasping filters through your ears. In a swift movement, he’s sliding out from behind you and removing his hand from your mouth.
Immediately you find yourself missing his heat and the heavy pressure of his fingers on your tongue.
Cool air rushes to your back where he once was and you shiver.
“God, you really don’t deserve this.” he reiterates, as he removes his jeans. His shirt and jacket follow suit. You watch him in a daze, thrumming in anticipation.
Just moments ago you were asserting dominance, and now your brain can’t process anything but the man undressing at the foot of your bed. He’s a stark contrast to the pink of your room. He looks out of place, despite being right where you need him.
He crawls back to you, and for the first time today, Dominic catches your lips in a searing kiss. Your mouths clash in a hungry mesh of spit and tongue. Your highs make everything sloppy and disoriented, and so so good. Blindly grabbing, and taking each other apart.
Your hand tangles in his curls, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck and earning a grunt that you eagerly swallow.
Take take take. You want all of him.
You wander your fingers over the expanse of his body, nails dipping into the ridges of his stomach before slipping into his boxers, and wrapping your hand around his dick.
Dom shutters, and he pulls away from your lips to grab your wrist–his grip tight in warning.
“You don’t learn.” His breath fans hot over your lips, slick with your shared spit.
“Please Dom, just, please.” You’re downright whimpering at this point, pleading for him. Gone is your attitude from earlier, and Dominic laughs right in your face. It’s pitiful and he grins.
“Awh, what's wrong princess?” His forehead creases, mock concern seeping out of his words, and then he dips his head down to nose at the sensitive spot of your neck, just under your ear.
“You can tell Daddy.” He nods, curls tickling your cheek.
Dominic mocks your words from earlier, moving your wrist above your head. Your free hand twitches under his chest, not quite touching, just hanging in the air. Unsure if he wants you touching him.
You’re scared, and so turned on. Pussy fluttering around nothing.
“Oh, I think I know.” Dom releases your wrist and yanks you back by your hair, baring your throat out to him. Just like you did.
“You want me to fuck you. That it?”
You do. So bad. You’re not sure how much more you can take anymore, which is why you’re surprised when you feel your eyes get hot. You’ve never been brought to this point before, and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to leave this headspace.
You nod your head rapidly, tears glossing your eyes over. “ Yes, please, Dom. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, peering up at him with how he has your head positioned, and swallowing when you watch the side of his lip twitch up.
“Maybe next time don’t bitch at me, huh?” He pats your cheek twice, just like you did. It stings a little, and your thighs twitch.
Dominic tilts his head to the side, hair sliding to the right with him. He simpers and says nothing. You feel your face start to burn, feeling so small under him like this, a hot tear streams down the side of your face.
You watch Dom’s eyes follow it with rapt attention, and you part your lips ready to say something, anything, when his eyes snap back to yours and you feel the tip of his cock pushing its way into your throbbing pussy.
Your eyes roll, and your mouth hangs open. A silent gasp stuck in your throat.
You’ve fucked your boyfriend many times before. But this, this, is new. Feeling him like this was new, the bated breath, the heat, the intensity of it all.
You feel him everywhere all at once, your body pulsating, ears feeling as if they're stuffed with cotton.
You feel hot, molten almost, but you’re shivering.
Dom bends your neck back further and nods his head while pushing himself in. Inch by inch you feel him filling you up.
His face is hovering over yours, as he watches you. Lips open and brush over your own as he loses himself in your heat.
“Mhm, that’s it, baby. You feel me?” Dominic mutters against your mouth, and you wither, mindlessly lifting a hand to grab hold of his in your hair.
You can’t speak, your brain is mush. Not a single thought processing. You feel full, the stretch one that you’ll never get enough of. He’s thick and heavy, and it’s almost too much.
Then he snaps his hips, and you slur out a curse. A long drawn-out whine works its way out your throat and you squeeze your eyes. If you were in your right mind, you’d almost be embarrassed that such a sound left you. But you aren’t.
Dominic snaps his hips one more time, and then he’s fucking you as if he’s on borrowed time. His hips grind quick and hard. He untangles his hand from your hair and interlaces it with one of yours, before tucking himself securely in your neck.
He presses closer to you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Ankles locked tight, and his heavy grunts fall into your neck.
He’s a mess of praise and curses, your bodies sticking together and the smell of sex hot in the air.
Your body jolts up with each thrust and you use your free arm to wrap around Dom’s back. Your acrylics scratch into his skin as you try to ground yourself.
But you need more.
“More, Dom,” You whimper out. “Please.”
He’s manhandling you around before your mind could process it. Head lifted from your neck as he turned you over on your stomach in a heated frenzy.
Your face is mushed into your pillows at the foot of your bed, ass perked up.
“Never satisfied are you?” Dom grunts, slipping back inside you and giving you just what you asked for. He leans down so he’s molded to the shape of your back, and grabs hold of your throat from behind.
You’re being fucked dumb, have no idea what you’re saying. If you’re even saying anything at all. Body tingling everywhere.
“You feel so good, baby. So good for me.” Dominic praises, reveling in how good your pussy sucks him in. How warm and gummy you feel around him. Squeezing him just right.
You’re both intertwined with pleasure, in a conjoined headspace that you hope never ends. You don’t even know how you both got to this point anymore. What you were arguing about in the first place. Just that you want to keep fucking like this, want to always feel him like this.
You start to feel yourself getting lifted off the mattress and then you’re on your knees, Dominic’s front still molded to your back. He reaches around and squeezes your right tit, fingers rolling your nipple.
You reach back and grip his hair when he starts leaving messy kisses down the side of your throat.
“Look. Look at yourself while I fuck you.” Dom orders, his voice vibrates through you and it takes all you have to peel your eyes open to see yourself through the mirror.
It’s in the corner of your room, and you can only see the side of you and Dom as he snaps his hips into you. Your eyes lock with him through the mirror. He’s already staring at you through his lashes, hair wet and sticking to his forehead. His gaze is primal, something wicked and you feel your stomach start to tighten, pussy spazzing around him.
“Oh fuck m’ gonna cum. Gonna cum.” you slur.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” He moves down to start rubbing tight circles on your clit, and you arch your back, throwing your head back against his shoulder. A chorus of yes’s.
“Look.” He grunts again, hand moving off your neck to firmly grip your jaw and force your face back to the mirror. You look a fucking mess.
That coil in your tummy tying a knot so tight, you’re not sure you’re ready for it to snap. But you need it too. Need it so fucking bad.
You bring a hand to grip Dom's arm that's resting on your abdomen, toes curled tight.
“Right there, right there!” You squeal, feeling yourself weaken in his hold. Dom feels it too, and pushes you back down into your sheets, his pace harder in the new position. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding your middle half in a slight arch.
“Cum for me, you can do it. Make me cum.” He’s whispering in your ear, “So fuckin’ close, cum with me baby.”
And the pleasure that’s been brewing, thrumming throughout your body, breaks.
You cum hard, Dominic’s name high-pitched and breathless when you reach down to tightly grip the corner of your mattress. Back arched high like a cat.
Your pussy clamps down on Dom, walls spasming around his dick, and it sets him off. His struggles to close his eyes, they’re lidded as he drunkenly loses himself in your pussy, chasing his orgasm.
You watch him through your mirror with low eyes. Watch as his mouth drops open. Watch as he drops onto you, squeezing you tight when he finally cums. Painting your walls white, and filling you up.
You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. Dom starts to pepper kisses on the side of your face, and you turn your head to catch his lips. It’s slower than the one you shared earlier. Heavy with I’m sorry, and I love you.
You pull away first, watching as a smile takes over his face. The position you’re in is awkward, but you both couldn’t care less right now. You reach around as best you can and brush his hair back from his eyebrow, softly rubbing your thumb over the piercing.
“So, how was clubbing without me? Boring huh?” You grin a shit-eating grin, and Dom rolls his eyes when you start laughing.
“Fuck off.”
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Tomato Paste
dominic fike x reader
warning(s): nonee! well���he has an eyebrow piercing. again. it’s just gonna be canon for my fics now lmao
a/n: this is so cute, i loved writing and working on this omg. it was a little embarrassing to write i won’t lie, but here we are lmao.
i really am a slow writer, so i apologize for being so slow with your requests😭
i hope you love this, thank you for requesting! <3
¥
"20 minutes, tops," You declare with your pointer finger, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.
"Can’t believe you forgot the tomato paste.” You mutter, slipping into your shoes, “Was probably starting at tits or something.”
Dominic raises an eyebrow, eyes lingering on your white tank top that’s tightly clinging to your body.
"Yeah, yours." He teases, locking his phone and winking at your boobs.
You gasp, clutching your shirt dramatically. "Fucking perv."
Dom pulls off his hoodie and tosses it over to you.
“20 minutes!” He reiterates. “I didn’t forget about that oat milk trip. We were there for damn near a decade.”
You laugh, that store trip was a disaster. You couldn’t decide on what brand was better. You ended up getting none of them and Dom was shivering by the time you left because he lended you his sweatshirt while in the dairy section.
“Yeah, yeah!” You call back, tugging on his hoodie.
“It’s just tomato paste. I got this baby. Trust me.” You wink, snag his keys from the key bowl, and blow him a kiss before slamming the door behind you.
Your relationship is still new, blossoming beautifully at the five-month mark.
Every visit felt weightless, a comfortable ease settling between you. He has a worn green mug by the sink, its familiar chipped rim and, coffee stains a silent welcome every morning.
In your top drawer, boxers and a pair of his mismatched socks, faded blue with cartoon ninja turtles, peeks out from your panties.
And tucked in your living room bookshelf, a framed photo of the two of you at the beach when he officially asked to be your boyfriend.
He’s easily made himself at home.
You agreed to tell your parents about each other once you reached half a year. It was your idea, believing that you and Dominic would be well past the honeymoon phase by then.
Which was proved true by month four.
Dominic digs through the fridge and pulls out a bowl of fresh fruit you had washed and cut up earlier.
With a bottle of water tucked into his sweatpants pocket, he plops down on the living room couch, opens up Netflix, and starts an episode of Supernatural.
Despite knowing you’re gone, he still glances at the front door. He knows he shouldn’t be watching this without you, but the last episode you left off on was too good of a cliffhanger.
He’s about halfway through the show when an insistent jiggling of the front doorknob echos through the house.
Sam and Dean’s fight starts to blur as panic floods Dominic's vision. No way you were back already – He knows you said twenty minutes, but he didn’t think you were serious!
His palms are slick, the remote slipping and sliding in his cold sweat.
A frantic scramble, a muted click – Sam and Dean vanish. Throwing the remote, Dom snatches his phone, adopts a posture of casual indifference, and opens a random app.
The door creaks open, a sound that scrapes against his already frayed nerves.
"Hey babe," He manages, attempting nonchalance. Silence answers him.
Then his phone vibrates with a text.
You
MY PARENTS R COMING TO THE HOUSE
THEY HUNG UP BEFORE I COULD MENTION U
kjhasjhdf IM SO SORRY
I’m hurrying home now omg
His eyes scan the frantic message. A torrent of misspelled words tumbled across the screen, punctuated by a desperate string of emojis that only you would send.
His heart, already doing a nervous stutter, plummets straight to his stomach. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not yet.
“Holy fucking,” Dominic starts under his breath, but he’s cut off by a voice that an tone lower than his will ever be.
“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?”
“Shit.” He finishes.
Dominic steels himself, taking a deep breath and rising to his feet. A charming smile, practiced a thousand times over, plasters itself onto his face as he turns around to face your parents.
The first thing that strikes him is the resemblance you have to your mother. You share her eyes and cheekbones, though hers were softened by time, their edges less sharp than yours. Age has been kind to her; she radiates a quiet beauty that makes Dominic clench his fists.
Not to hide his nervousness, but to sedate a far away thought - a vision of you, years down the line, etched with the same kind aging your mother was graced with, perhaps with children by your side, their eyes mirroring yours, but with his nose.
"Um, this isn't exactly how I pictured our first meeting," Dominic begins, his voice a touch higher than usual. He clears his throat, the nervous chuckle a hollow sound.
"I'm Dominic. Dominic Fike. I've, uh, been dating your daughter for the past five months and a half."
He addresses them formally, and by your last name, extending a hand for a handshake. Their expressions are unreadable at the mention of his name, a blank canvas that sends a jolt of relief through him.
The last thing he needed was for them to recognize him from some outrageous thing he’s said on the internet. A shiver runs down his spine, a phantom memory of his last concert ramble.
How he hasn’t launched into a word vomit, or worse, blacked out entirely, is a mystery. Dealing with fame has its drawbacks - the unpredictable interviews he loathes, the constant fan interactions.
None, however, have ever felt this paralyzing.
His heart pounds frantically in his ears as your dad gives him a thorough once-over. It's narrows on his chest, lingers on his arms. He’s confused at the interest of his body, then his confusion morphs into a sickening realization.
He’s fucking shirtless.
"Fuck," He mutters under his breath.
Your dad's eyebrows shoot up. He eyes your boyfriend as if he just declared his love for a rival sports team.
"Excuse me, son?" Dominic winces. A cold sweat prickles his skin. He flinches back and yanks his outstretched hand like he’s been burned. He throws a desperate glance at your mom, silently begging for her help.
She's been quiet the whole time. But when she meets Dominic's eyes, a small smile graces her lips. She rests a calming hand on your dad's shoulder.
"Why don't you go freshen up," She suggests, voice soft. "Maybe put on a shirt, and then we’ll go from there.”
Dominic nods vigorously.
"Yes ma’am of course, good call. So so sorry." He practically sprints towards your room, throwing another mumbled apology over his shoulder.
"Did you see the face tats? The Xs on his eyelids? That damn eyebrow piercing?" He hears your dad whisper yell to your mom.
Dominic closes your bedroom door shut, finally allowing himself to exhale the breath he didn't know he was holding.
He leans against the door, head tilted back in defeat, when another horrifying thought hits him.
It's laundry day.
And before you left, you'd tossed the first load in the washer. The load that, of course, included all the clothes he's left at your place. The hoodie he gave you before you left was the last clean thing he had.
"This can't be happening," He whispers, dragging a hand down his face. He stumbles over to the closet and flicks on the light. Panic clouds his judgment. Scanning your clothes, he snatches the first thing he sees folded on the top shelf.
Your baby pink sweatshirt.
He's just pulling it on when he hears the front door open again. Your voice, laced with slight urgency, filters through.
He lets out a deep breath, not bothering to check his reflection, and jogs out of the room.
He rounds the corner and sees you. Relief washes over him, momentarily melting his anxiety. You turn from your parents at the sound of his footsteps, about to launch into an apology, but the words die on your lips.
The moment he's close enough, Dominic practically throws himself at you, burying his face in your neck. He doesn't care that your parents are watching. He was just short of possibly passing out, and all he craves is the comfort you always seem to radiate.
You understand instantly, and glare at your parents over his shoulder.
Your arms tighten around Dominic's lower back as you stroke his hair with a comforting hand. You feel him relax against you, and turn your face to plant a soft kiss on his head.
"You okay?" You murmur against his hair.
Dominic manages a small nod, but he doesn't stay wrapped in you for as long as he'd like. Steeling himself, for the umpteenth time today, he straightens up, and faces your parents.
With a newfound confidence blooming in his chest with you by his side, he clears his throat.
“I really apologize for earlier. I wasn’t expecting to meet you both so soon.” He reaches out for your hand. His voice holds a hint of nervousness, but he sounds sure of himself now.
“I love your daughter very much and go above and beyond to make sure she knows that.” He continues, his gaze flickers between your parents. "I hope in time you both will see that."
You beam with pride at your boyfriend's attempt to win over your folks. Your dad, however, remains unconvinced, a furrow etched between his brows. Your mom, on the other hand, wears a blinding smile.
An awkward silence stretches, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of a wall clock. Finally, your mom swats the back of your dad's head. He yelps, bewildered, before his eyes dart between you and your mom. Throwing his hands up, he finally speaks up,
"There’s still much to unpack here. And frankly, those tats and piercings are ridiculous." Dominic shrugs and nods - rubbing the back of his neck.
"But," Your dad breathes, a hint of a begrudging smile playing on his lips, "You seem to have won my daughter over. And since she's basically a carbon copy of me, I trust her judgment."
You and your mom roll your eyes.
Your dad’s eyes then drop to Dominic's sweatshirt. His right eyebrow shoots up as he grumbles something under his breath, then shakes his head in defeat before stalking off towards the kitchen.
You glance down at your boyfriends long sleeve, your eyes widening in realization. Your hand flys to cover your mouth.
Your mom watches your dad go, a hint of amusement in her eyes. She then turns to Dominic, a warm smile still gracing her lips.
"Welcome to the family, hun," She says, squeezing his arm. The gesture sends pure relief through him. He manages to smile back.
"Thank you," He squeezes her hand back, voice genuine. "Happy to be here."
Your mom nods curtly and follows after your dad into the kitchen. The moment she's out of earshot, you drop your hand and let out a loud, unrestrained laugh. Dominic gives you a look, assuming it was fueled by his earlier distress.
"Maybe pay a little more attention next time you raid my closet," You wheeze, doubling over as you lean on his shoulder for support.
That's when it hits him. He remembers your dad's gaze at his shirt. He looks down in haste.
Stitched in bright pink threading and surrounded by a ridiculous amount of hearts and sparkles were the words: "FIKE'S BABYDOLL."
"Oh come the fuck on," He groans.
What the hell even was this last hour.
He glances down at you, now sprawled on the floor, tears wetting your face from laughter. The sound is infectious, and before he can help it, a smile spreads across his face.
“Yeah okay, did you get the tomato paste atleast?”
You stop laughing.
#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike smut#elliot#elliot euphoria#elliot imagine#elliot smut#dominic fike imagine#elliot euphoria imagine#elliot fanfic#dominic fike x reader#dominic x reader#elliot x reader#elliot euphoria fanfic#elliot imagines#elliot euphoria fanfiction#elliot euphoria x reader#dominic fike fic#dominic fike fics#dominic fike fluff#dominic fike
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Miss Me?
dominic fike x reader
warnings: nonee
a/n:...hey yall. IM BACK! i missed u pookey🥹.
i'm so sorry for my absence, i missed writing so much, but most of all i missed talking & interacting with u all. second to last year at uni is just really kicking my ass as of late. i've also had insane writer's block, and still do. my confidence as a writer has been at an all-time low, so i hope this short blurb does justice for u! ♥️
i finally have a bit of a breather, so i'm going to work my ass off on requests & hopefully gain my confidence back in the midst of it all.
i love u guys so so much, please enjoy! feels good to be back. :)
Thunder crackles outside, rain pelting against the windows in your room. You have a candle lit on your nightstand, next to your lamp that helps emit a warm glow to the room. It’s nights like these that feel content.
They feel safe. A steaming cup of hot cocoa, an oversized jumper, and a good book. Legs tucked to the side under your comforter.
You’re only missing one thing.
You just about hit the part you’ve been waiting for in your book when you hear shuffling outside the room, and then the door creaking open. Just on time.
Dominic.
He had locked himself in his in-home studio, two doors down from the bedroom. Despite his album drop in the summer, it’s October now and he’s already working towards his third. You admire his dedication and love for his craft, really you do, but he looks tired.
Between the take-off of his acting career, touring, and his new album, he’s consistently on the go. You push your reading glasses up and softly smile at him.
“Hey, how’s it coming along?” Dom shrugs, closing the door behind him and pulling his hoodie overhead, throwing it on the floor. He smoothes down his band tee and wordlessly climbs into bed with you. He moves in close, swipes your book from your hands, and lightly tosses it on his nightstand.
You grin, and open your arms wide when he maneuvers himself on top of you. You untuck your legs and spread them out to accommodate him. He lays between them, his cheek pressed snuggly against the space where your neck and shoulder meet. He lets out a breath and you feel his body melt against yours.
“Missed you.” He mumbles, peppering kisses on your shoulder, then he moves up to your face. You laugh, his curls falling forward around his face and tickling your cheeks. You bring your arms around his neck, fingertips dipping under his shirt to run along the top of his back, before skimming them over the nape of his neck.
“I’d miss me too if I locked myself in a room for.” You glance over at the wall clock, it's 1 a.m.
“8 hours!? Jesus, Dom.” Dominic drops face-first onto your chest and curls up into you. One arm wrapped around your stomach, the other lying next to you.
“That’s like a regular workday.” He counters, and you roll your eyes, reaching for the remote to turn on the TV for some background noise.
It causes you to unwrap your arms from around him. You’re just barely able to click on a random episode of some adult cartoon before Dominic lets out a noise of protest.
“No.” He mumbles.
“It hasn’t even been 15 seconds.” You roll your eyes, but nonetheless, you put the remote on your nightstand, click off the lamp, and scoop your boyfriend back into your arms. He says something sarcastic and witty into your shirt, but you don’t have in yourself tonight to rile him up. So you bring a hand up to his hair and rake your nails along his scalp.
Having Dom this close feels surreal, despite it being years since you began dating. The steady beat of his heart against you. The sigh of contentment he lets go of when you hold him closer and squeeze. Even the grounding grip of his hand laced around yours has you slipping away.
He holds on to you as if you’d slip away from him. Like you’d leave him given the opportunity. That theory’s proved right when you lightly shift down to get yourself more comfortable and on instinct, his hold on you tightens.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” You whisper, kissing his forehead. He hums, moving in closer. He’s so close you can feel his eyelashes wisp against your skin. It reminds you of a fairy. Delicate and soft.
“Did you miss me today?” You remove your reading glasses and place them next to your cup.
“I always miss you.” You start, rubbing a hand down his back.
“How much?”
“I missed you as much as I miss Abbott Elementry.” You feel him laugh, and shift so he can look up at you.
“You know you’re probably never getting a season 3 right?” You roll your eyes, push his head back down, and purposely tug a little hard at a curl on the nape of his neck.
“Fuck you.” He whines, flinching at the pull. You giggle, quickly smoothing your hand over where you pulled. It goes silent after that.
Rick and Morty fills up the silence.
You start to believe that Dom has fallen asleep, but when you glance down, you see him staring at the rain hitting the window. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, you can almost see the cogs working in his head.
“Are you happy with me?” He suddenly whispers, and it’s then you understand his silence. You do everything in your power to always make sure Dom knows how much you love him. How much he makes you happy. How much he makes you smile and makes your life feel like it’s worth living.
Though, no matter how clear you make that, there are still those days when Dom gets in his head. Where his usual rationality, seems to diminish. But you’re always there. Ready to take it all away.
“Hey.” You start, and the pad of your thumb rubs over his cheekbone. “I honestly don’t think there’s a word I can use that could describe how happy you make me. How safe and content I feel just knowing that I get to come home to you.”
Dominic shuffles, and you feel his eyelashes flutter closed against your thumb. “I’m more than happy with you. And believe me, when I say, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Dom deeply inhales, then breathes out. His hand squeezes yours, and you feel a kiss being placed on your chest, then your collarbone. One under your chin, then behind your ear. The top of your cheek, the corner of your eye, and finally, he presses a lingering kiss on your lips.
You press the palm of your hand on the side of his face and push him deeper into you. Kissing him with an intensity you hope says a thousand words.
He pulls away first and rests his forehead against yours. He’s silent for a moment, the both of you trying to catch your breaths. You see the side of his top lip quirk up, and he pulls back from your face.
“Maybe you’ll get your season three after all. I’ll make a few calls tomorrow.” You laugh out. It’s loud and comes straight from your belly. You mush his face to the side when he starts laughing with you.
“Oh, fuck you.”
#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike smut#elliot#elliot euphoria#elliot imagine#elliot smut#dominic fike imagine#elliot euphoria imagine#elliot fanfic#dominic fike x reader#dominic fike#dominic x reader#dominic fike fanfic#dominic fike fluff#dominic fike fics#elliot euphoria fanfic#elliot smut euphoria#elliot euphoria fanfiction#elliot imagines#elliot euphoria x reader#elliot x reader#elliot euphoria fluff#dominic fike fic
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French Toast?
dominic fike x reader
warning(s); none!
Listen to 7 hours when reading!:)
a/n: yeah, im whipping these mf's OUT! thank you for this yummy request!
this is short but fun. also calling myself out heavy here...i 100% went through both the justin bieber and bts phase...
*still editing this a bit, so bear with me!*
¥
You don’t obsess.
You’ve never had a One Direction phase. You never had the primal urge to deck your walls with Justin Bieber posters, and you never succumbed to the fanfictions of BTS.
You’re firm on the narrative that obsessing over someone who has no idea who you are, a complete waste of time. So you never indulged.
So why is it that you’re leaning against a barricade, a sign below your feet with, “Dominic, play your unreleased shit!” written in big sparkly bubble letters.
Pierced tits showing nice and pretty under a fitted white t-shirt you made just for the show.
“Fuck me Dominic Fuck!” ironed on the front. His actual last name printed small and in parentheses under the second fuck.
Your wordplay landed perfectly. Other fans coming up to you with laughs and praise.
"You know," Ian, your best friend's boyfriend, begins, giving a playful glance as you slip your phone into your mini purse, "I still can't believe you've succumbed to this."
"Ian's got a point," Aria chimes in, leaning into him.
"You beat the One Direction phase, but this? This is the one you can’t beat?” She raises an eyebrow.
You roll your eyes.
"Fuck off," You start, uncrossing your arms and sliding your manicured nails into the pockets of your low-rise jeans, "This is perfectly normal, thank you very much. Mind your business."
You jut your hip out, and lean your weight to your right leg.
"Besides, I’d rather this than the Larry allegations.” You stick your tongue out.
Aria gasps, "You didn't!"
"Oh, she most certainly did," Ian confirms with a nod, stepping out of the way.
Before you can revel in your victory, Aria launches herself at you, locking you in a loose headlock. Laughter fills the air as she swings you around, and soon, the three of you are engrossed in conversation.
Occasionally pestering Ian to snap some photos of you and Aria as the field begins to fill up.
Amidst the chatter, you lose track of time.
Engaging with a girl behind you who complimented your shirt. You share a laugh with her as you recall having to fight with a 10-year-old for the last pack of sparkly iron-on letters at Michaels.
You’re handing her phone back with your number saved when the lights start to dim, and whip around to your bestfriend, smiling big.
"Oh my fuck, it's time, it's time!" You squeal, grabbing onto her arm.
Your heart races, pounding against your ribs, as adrenaline courses through your veins.
With the rest of the crowd, you scream at the top of your lungs, cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify the sound.
A single bulb illuminates the stage and outsteps Dominic. Bathed in golden light.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes widen at the sight of him so close.
He looks unreal.
Dominic extends his hands in his signature heart as the opening instrumental of "How Much Is Weed" begins to play.
You steal a glance at Aria, both of you screaming the first few lyrics together before dancing. Shaking your heads, and moving your hands as you rap the lyrics bar for bar.
Completely losing yourselves in the moment.
About 30 minutes into his set, Dominic launches into "7 Hours," your favorite off the album.
Aria shouts, and it rings with your own, as you both grasp each other's shoulders in anticipation. She knows you’ve been waiting for this one.
"I just wish that you would move round me, move round me," Dominic's voice fills the air, wisping goosebumps over your body.
You find yourself captivated.
Unable to put into words how hearing the song live feels. There's a rawness to his voice that transcends the studio version and you wish you could forever hear it like this.
Closing your eyes, you give in to the pulsating rhythm, slowly spinning in a circle and moving your hips in a way that's usually reserved for after a few tequila shots.
The new friend you made earlier joins in, hyping you up alongside Aria, while the golden stage lighting envelops you in its warm glow.
It's a sensation you haven't felt in ages, an intoxicating blend of music and friends. You feel comfortable in your skin, like you're hottest here, and you poke your ass out just a bit during your last twirl.
As the chorus returns, you throw your hands up in the air and lean against both girls, belting out the lyrics with all your heart while swaying to the beat.
As you open your eyes, momentarily blinded by the lights, a chill runs through you.
You find yourself locking eyes with Dominic, his gaze piercing and intense as he sings. His eyes linger on your face before trailing down to your body, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his lips as if he's reading the words on your shirt.
Just as quickly as the moment began, Dominic diverts his attention back to the crowd.
You try to shake off the idea that he was actually looking at you. There’s no way, you tell yourself; surely, he was just scanning the audience, his eyes drifting past you to someone else in the sea of fans.
But then, he glances over at you again, and again, and another time after that.
It became clear that he’s singling you out amidst the sea of faces. His eyes, pools of depth and intensity, captivating you with each lingering look.
Entire verses pass with your eyes locked in a silent exchange, a language of longing? Desire? You're not sure, but you know you don't want him to look at anyone else around you like this.
You're in awe by the intensity of his attention.
Sooner than you'd like, his second segment ends. And the world that was created just for you two, shatters.
You let out a breath and try to calm how jittery you feel. Nerves running wild as you get ready to hold up your little sign, and brace yourself for what's to come as Dominic prepares to address the audience.
"There's a girl up here," he laughs, "Who, I swear I locked eyes with for the majority of that set." The crowd erupts into screams.
Glancing over at your best friend, your eyes widen. When you turn back toward the stage, Dominic is indeed looking right at you.
"What's your name?" He asks, bending down on the edge of the stage and holding his mic out to you.
With your stomach in knots, you manage to speak your name into the mic without stuttering, thanks to the grace of whatever god is out there.
Dominic attempts to repeat it but ends up completely butchering it. Seeing your laugh as you shake you head, he places the mic back to your lips, clearly hears your name, and pronounces it correctly.
"That's a beautiful name," He grins, "Not as beautiful as you though." The screams ring louder and your eyebrows raise.
You're not sure if you're still breathing at this point. Dominic backs up towards his mic stand and leans on it.
"Her shirt says 'Fuck me Dominic Fuck,'" He announces with a shake of his head, "My last name in the tinest font possible under the fuck that should be Fike." The crowd roars, and Dom lets out a breathless chuckle.
"I don't know," He drawls out your name, his voice carrying a playful tone as he sways with his mic stand, commanding the stage with effortless charm.
"I'd be down, but at least take me out to dinner first?" He tilts his head with a simper, sending the fans into a frenzy.
Aria curses excitedly, her phone camera poised to capture the entire moment.
Feeling a surge of confidence, you find your voice again and begin shouting something back, prompting Dominic to step forward, thrusting the mic in your direction.
"You're right, I'm sorry. Let's go get french toast after this," You offer. "The thick kind, not the thin shit."
His laughter rings out boyishly and he throws his head back.
It's a sound that makes your stomach flutter, the only sound you ever want to hear.
"I'm not usually like this, I swear," Dominic points, his movements fluid as he untangles himself from his orange mic cord.
"ButImdownmeetmebackstage. Okaynextsongletsgo!" He talks so fast that you almost didn't hear, and your mouth drops before you laugh.
It's loud, and unfiltered, and you just can't believe your life right now.
Especially when one of the stage crew members hands you a backstage lanyard over the barricade. Your ears ring at the amount of screams that comes from the fans around you.
For the umpteenth time tonight, Dominic catches your eye, and with a wink he launches into AntPile.
You blow him kiss, and goofily wink back.
You know he saw it.
#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike smut#elliot#elliot euphoria#elliot imagine#elliot smut#dominic fike imagine#elliot euphoria imagine#elliot fanfic#dominic fike x reader#dominic x reader#elliot x reader#elliot euphoria fanfic#elliot imagines#elliot euphoria fanfiction#elliot euphoria x reader#dominic fike fic#dominic fike fics#dominic fike fluff
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Mourlin Rouge
dominic fike x reader
warning(s); mentions of drug use, lil spicy & once again a try at some plot, so it’s a little long!
a/n; hey...been a while🧍🏾♀️...real shit i missed y'all.
ima try and wheeze my way back up in here. here's my apology... thanks for the request♥️
not proof read yet!
¥
You push and shove your way through sweaty, sticky bodies trying to get to the bar. The bottom of your boots stick to the candied floor from spilled drinks, and God knows what else.
You're positive that if it weren’t so loud in here, you’d hear the toe-curling sound of your soles detaching from the sealed concrete.
This wasn’t how you envisioned your Saturday night to go; in fact, it wasn’t supposed to go like this at all.
What was meant to be a night of takeout and reruns of Supernatural suddenly wasn’t when your best friend, Aria, rang your phone.
Lights from the provocative club paint the room in deep crimson and make it hard to distinguish the faces and details of the clubbers.
Maybe that was the point of it. To hide the platinum pink hair of the woman you thought was blond, but remember the way her skin-tight dress glittered as she moved.
It had been a while since you felt that unreachable state of bliss.
You’re jealous.
Jealous of the people here. They aren’t here for a long time, you could tell by the way some were leaning over glass tables with rolled dollar bills—noses powdered white.
Or how they drop unicorn-shaped tablets on their tongues before kicking back a shot. They have no purpose, nothing to lose if shit were to hit the fan.
You grimace, no stranger to that state of mind. But that’s not you anymore.
Hasn’t been for years. Not since you met him.
In time, you make it to the bar, tall bottles of alcohol lined up in the wall, a golden glow emitting from behind them, and a bartender whose breasts look as if they're about to spill from her top. Betty.
Her nickname was given thanks to her curvy figure, pixie cut, and melanin skin.
Proclaiming her to be a real live Betty Boop. She’s familiar with you, as this isn’t your first time here, but it’s been a long while since you’ve set foot.
A thick cloud of smoke disperses from her lips, she winks at you, and you grin.
No stranger to her flirting.
“Haven’t seen you round’ here inna minute, you ain’t cheatin’ on me now?” her southern accent loud and thick.
“Could never do that you Betty, you know that.” You counter, leaning forward a bit and into her space.
You order something strong and sweet, voice open and teasing. Used to playing your cards right and getting your first drink free with her.
Betty gives you a once over, eyes playful and pupils blown as vapor steams from her nostrils, and clouds around you again. It’s sickeningly sweet.
The smallest smirk grows on her face, and then she goes about doing her job—bending down into a cabinet to grab what looks to be an expensive Vodka—playfully shaking her ass in the process.
You get comfortable on the stool and unstick your boots from the ground, placing them on the stool’s metal foot rod.
Your lips curl up at the resistance.
Out of all the clubs Aria could have picked, this is always the designated meeting ground.
Mourlin Rouge.
It's a lewd place within the red district of LA. You used to love it here, came every weekend with her and your friend group.
With him.
A Friday and Saturday night hotspot for the young and reckless. Music loud, K bumps on gold platters, and the weighted stench of marijuana.
You contribute to the stench. Weed fragrancing off you since you hotboxed your car before coming inside.
Your high is a pleasant one, Wedding Cake, always your go-to when clubbing.
Your name is shouted out, and you faintly hear it under the bass of the music. You crane your neck over your shoulder and lazily scan the onslaught of clubbers for the face with the familiar voice.
A tan arm sticks out, then a leg clad in leather pants before Aria shoves the rest of her body through the crowd.
Similar to what you did moments earlier.
You reach a hand up, ready to wave her over when you make eye contact, but your arm stills mid-way when a few other people filter in behind her, following in her footsteps.
The look you share is brief, but she looks nervous. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips pursed to the side.
Then you see him. The side of him, and suddenly the look on Aria’s face makes sense.
Your stomach churns and you quickly swivel back around to the bar before he can see you.
Betty comes back and slides a tall glass of alcohol towards you. It’s pink, has sugar on the rim, and a cocktail toothpick with a lacy black panty on the tip.
You grab it the second it’s within reach and take a much-needed sip.
Quick to get rid of the sick feeling in your stomach. It burns the entire way down, just as you hoped.
It’s uncanny how after months, just a look at him can make your body curl in itself within seconds.
You part your lips, ready to catch Betty’s attention to add a tequila shot when an arm slithers around your bare torso. The tattoos are a dead giveaway, your body knows who it is before your brain can catch up.
His touch is scorching and reminds you of the nights you'd curl into him to warm yourself.
He tugs you back and presses you against his chest. You feel the cold metal of a necklace on your back, no doubt the one you bought him.
The pendant digs into the top of your spine, as you grip the sides of your chair.
You take a deep breath when the hand around your waist spreads open, palm now resting on your hip. It takes all your strength not to succumb to old habits.
To curve your body to fit into his grip, reach around to scratch at his jaw as you turn your head to leave a glossy kiss on his neck. Right over the tattoo he has of your lips.
He smells familiar, spicy, and warm. Your clit pulses at the remembrance of it all.
“Dominic,” You start, voice shaky. You clear your throat, quick to cover up vulnerability.
You don’t miss him, and he’ll be aware of that by any means necessary.
“Get off.”
He no longer has access to you like this, he’s crossing a boundary. One that you’re having trouble keeping up.
With more effort than you’d like to admit, you yank his arm off you and cross your legs. Swiping non-existent lint off your skirt. Anything to keep yourself from facing him.
Your breakup was nasty, though you both never ventured past the title of a situationship. So you’d hardly call it a breakup. And that was the problem.
Dom was ready for something more, more than just a fuck, and so were you. But you didn’t trust him, not with a reputation like his.
Hell, you both started messing around because of his reputation. He was known for no strings attached. A nice fuck, a good friend.
Simple and to the point.
But you both never expected it to stretch out like this. For feelings to develop, for them to be mutual.
You got scared, scared that this was just a phase for him and not real. Because it was so real for you. To a point where it felt like your lifeline.
You broke it off and went no contact.
The night of you and Dom’s argument is something you’ve never been able to forget. You’d never seen him so distraught. So angry.
The intensity of it all reached heights you didn't think was possible. It’s been 3 months since then and the weight feels as heavy as it did back then.
“Girl, hey!” Aria steps to your left, her hands interlocked and resting under her chin as she smiles brightly. Voice up a pitch.
Something she subconsciously does when she knows she's fucked up.
“We saw him and some of his friends while waiting in line. We sort of just merged.” She eyes your other friend, Chloè, who fiddles with her hands and gives a weak smile.
You sigh, and can’t help but wonder if this was planned. The two of them time, and time again have told you that you acted irrational, that what you did wasn’t fair to him.
And you know. But you've convinced yourself that it's too late to reach out. To make amends. You've made your bed, and now you have to lie in it.
Chloè begged you to reach out to him, and you shot her down every time.
Aria adjusts the strap of her skimpy top, which didn’t need fixing but is now twisted around. Another anxious habit of hers.
This was planned.
You nod your head and muster a smile. “It’s cool. We’re all friends here.”
You look around towards the mixed group and try to play it neutral when you make contact with Dean. Dom’s closest friend. He’s staring blankly at you, judgment and anger bleeding out from his demeanor.
You cower under his gaze and divert your attention elsewhere. You can’t say you blame him.
“Uh, Jim Beam. Neat.” Dom’s voice rumbles behind you, he’s still so close you can feel the vibrations. He didn’t take your aggression seriously, and you’re not surprised.
He knows your body inside and out. Knows exactly how you tick. He’s seen the worst side of you, as well as the best.
Your weak attempt to keep a staid act was pointless.
It's why you can’t help it this time when you slyly turn to glance at his side profile. Your first official look of the night.
He’s looking at Betty as he orders, jawline sharp and lightly stubbled over.
Your eyes move up to his hair. It’s down to his neck now, slightly curled up. The start of a mullet.
The front of his hair long and curly and cascades down the side of his face. Stopping just under his cheekbones. He’s changed so much.
“She’ll have a tequila shot, salt rim.” He remembers your order and your foot twitches.
Before you can move, Dominic turns to you. Locking you in place with the eye contact you’ve been trying to avoid since the moment you saw him.
Your breath catches in your throat, heart thumping against your ribs.
He leans down so he’s level with your ear, hot breath fanning against your neck, “Right?”
Your arms wisp over with goosebumps.
His eyes are hooded, glossed over. You can tell he smoked before coming in. He roams over your face, stopping at your lips, before slowly looking back up. He leans in closer, and something in his face glints.
An eyebrow piercing. That’s new.
It looks completely healed, and your fingertips tremble with the need to softly run over it.
The parallel of the gold glow emitting from the bottle wall, to the red lighting of the club wash over him. He looks downright fuckable, and your self-restraint is hanging on by a thread.
It doesn’t take much for you to start remembering what you’ve tried so hard to bury.
Remembering how his lips felt when leaving reassuring kisses on the parts of your body you hated most.
How’d he laugh when you’d fuck up a string while he was teaching you to play guitar.
Arms wrapped around your middle and chin hooked over your shoulder as you sat in his lap in his studio. Arms and hands pressed and tangled over each other as he taught you an A cord to a B.
How he’d stare at you as if you were the sole reason for his existence as his hips moved at a pace that always had you on the brink of admitting the immense amount of love you hold for him.
He’s giving you that look now. You need to get out of here.
You swipe your clammy palms down your thighs and shoot up from the barstool, making a beeline to the bathroom and not sparing a look back toward Aria or Chloé.
You fall into the door when you make it inside.
The single restroom is washed in a warm low light. It’s surprisingly clean, with a bathroom vanity, and square mirror.
You take deep breaths to try and calm down.
“Fuck fuck, fuck!” You whisper yell, adjusting your top and moving over to look at yourself in the mirror.
Sweat starts to pebble on your forehead, and you hastily pull tissue from the dispenser to pat at your face. Careful not to smudge your makeup.
You’re racking your brain, trying to think of all the ways you can escape the club when the door clicks open.
You freeze, looking at the door through the mirror. It’s Dom, and he looks at you through the reflection as he locks the door behind him.
Something you thought you did.
You’re not thinking straight anymore, the only thing your mind keeps repeating is Leave! Get out!
Your body moves on auto, and you throw the paper towels down, gripping your mini purse tightly as you take long strides to the door.
Dominic doesn’t move, he stays firm in front your only exit, and watches your acrylics hit against the handle in an attempt to grip it.
“Dom fucking move or I swear to God.” Your voice comes out weak and desperate.
The strong tilt you had at the bar is gone.
You feel your body start to weaken, tears threatening to spill at your waterline.
“Dominic please.” Your voice simmers out, and your arms fall limp at the handle. He doesn't budge. You feel his eyes on you, and you suddenly feel small. Bared.
Dom softly brushes his fingers against your collarbone, moving up to your throat, then gently pulling you towards him by the sides of your face.
You keep your eyes on the sealed concrete.
“Stop.” He speaks against your lips, “Stop fucking fighting me.”
His voice is as weak and tired as yours.
It’s silent between you, your breaths mingling together with the muted bass in the bathroom walls.
“Can I trust you?” You finally speak. Vulnerability leaks out of you in waves, you’re on the brink of giving in.
You’re surprised you lasted this long in your resolve, your want to give yourself to him present since the very beginning of all this.
“I want this so bad. I want you so fucking bad, but can I trust you? Can you even trust me after what I—” You choke up, shaking your head.
“Yes, you can trust me.” he nods his head, “And despite it all, I trust you. With every fiber of my fucking being.” His thumb moves to swipe at your bottom lip, “I’ve never been more sure about anyone than I have with you.”
He tugs on your chin for you look at him, and you follow. Willingly locking eyes with the man you swore you didn’t need.
“I swear it,” Dominic says your name with finality, leaving no room for you to doubt him.
And it’s all you need.
You drop your purse to the floor, and eagerly tangle your fingers in his hair, yanking him to your mouth. Everything feels hot, your heart thrumming through your ears.
He kisses you feverishly, something about it almost primal.
Something spreads throughout your chest. It’s so strong, heavy, and so liberating that your fingers start to tremble.
You’re relying solely on muscle memory, when Dominic grabs a handful of your ass underneath your skirt, your flesh protruding between his fingers.
You let out a whimper, a confirmation only he can understand, and you jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his hips.
You feel his arms flex as he swings you around, everything around you a dizzying blur until he sets you down on the edge of the sink.
The cool ceramic sends a shiver down your spine, contrasting with the heat radiating from your skin, as you feel its smooth surface touch the curve of your ass.
Dominic doesn’t let off your lips once, taking everything you’ve denied him. You’re completely swallowed by him and let yourself fall into it without any restraint. He’s touching you everywhere, picking you apart in a way only he can do.
You try to pull back, "Dom," you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips.
He tries to chase them, and you let him, unable to deny yourself. Your lips hover over eachother, open and panting. Anything to stay close.
So you try again, “Dominic."
His name falls from your tongue soft and determined.
He fully pulls away to pepper messy kisses along your throat, each one pulling you deeper into a fuzzy headspace.
Your hands, still trembling, tighten in his hair, silently urging him to return to you.
You guide his head back up until his gaze meets yours, his breath ragged and heavy against your skin. His hands grip your sides tightly.
His fear of losing you is still there. Your heart clenches at the realization.
"I love you." Each syllable is weighted and leaves no room for hesitation.
Dominic's body stills.
"Say it again," He whispers, his voice a plea. Staring at you with the same intensity he had the last time you saw each other.
Longing.
"I love you," You repeat, the words a fervent affirmation of your unwavering devotion. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close.
"Again, please," He implores, his voice sounds broken, disbelieving. Scared. He buries his face in the safety of your neck.
With gentle hands, you cup his cheeks, guiding his gaze to meet yours once more.
"I love you, Dominic," You murmur, voice laced with raw honesty.
"I love you so fucking much and I’d never do anything to hurt you again. I promise."
You brush his hair back and leave tender kisses over his face, “I’m so sorry. You have me now. All of me.”
Dominic’s eyes start to gloss over, big, brown, and so full of love.
He nods his head firmly, and for the first time in a long time, you see him smile. It’s a genuine one, a real one. All teeth, and dimples are on full display for you, and you only.
It’s the same smile he gave you all those years ago when you realized you had fallen for him deeper than you believed possible.
“I love you too.” He noses at your jaw, closing his eyes and melting into your body, “But you already knew that.”
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hi!!!! could you possibly do something where the reader and dom are on a podcast together?? i think that would be super fun☺️☺️
anon, this is probably the funniest request i've ever worked on oh my god.😭 i had so much fun writing this! thank you for sending it in!
this is heavily inspired by the drake podcast with bobbi. i also read a few of dom's interviews, so a good bit of the dialogue is based on some things he's actually said.
this is dialogue heavy just so you all know! hope you love it!
¥
You move the mic stand that your crew set up, so it’s level with your face, and adjust yourself under the blankets of your guest star's bed.
“Okay, tell me when,” Dominic says. He’s holding the clapperboard, and watching your crew for his signal.
“Marking.” He says into the mic, then snaps the take. He grins, while one of the crew members come to take the clapperboard. “Ah, bet you didn’t think I knew about that huh?”
It’s episode seven of your podcast, and you somehow managed to get Dominic Fike as your guest. You’ve been a fan of his for years, and have followed him through his ups and downs of fame, fortune, and misfortune.
You’re a little shocked at how well you’re keeping your composure by being able to have your favorite artist featured on your show, but you're thankful for it.
“Hello everyone, welcome to episode seven of I’m Not in Your Bed, and today I’m here with.”
You look over at Dominic, and he leans into his mic.
“Dominic Fike. How are you guys today.”
“Are you talking to me or the viewers?”
“The viewers.”
“This isn’t live though, so you won’t get to know their responses.” You turn on your side so you're facing Dom, and move your mic in front of you.
“Well yeah, but, isn’t that like proper podcast etiquette or some shit.” He starts to trail off towards the end and he looks at the staff. You hear a few of them chuckle, and you almost do too, but you can’t break character.
“Who taught you that?”
“Well, I just sort of.” He pauses for a moment, “Fuck you.” There’s no bite to it, and the staff laughs out.
"You think Drake is watching this?" He asks, fixing the glasses on his face.
"Maybe, he was my episode four."
"Were you in his bed too?"
"Yeah, I was."
"Fuckin’ cheater dude." That earns him a few laughs behind the camera.
“How does it feel having a stranger in your bed?” You ask. Dominic tilts his head in thought.
“Well, it’s not too weird. I used to have random women in here all the time.”
He then grabs hold of the mic and stares dead into the camera. “Not anymore though. Completely abstinent. Not fucking. Stop having sex. I’m talking to you. The one watching me say this while probably planning on having sex later.” You stare at him and press your lips together, letting the silence after his proclamation linger in the air.
“And how’s that been going for you?”
“You know, it’s been well. I’ve stopped a lot of crazy shit recently. Stopped smoking, stopped drugs. Stopped drinking more than 4 cups of coffee a day.”
“How do you like your coffee.”
“Black. I hate that creamer shit.”
“You know it’s reported that some of the most known serial killers drank their coffee black and were Capricorns?” Dom’s eyebrows raise.
“Oh fuck, really?”
“No, I made it up. But you feel a little crazy now don’t you?” Dominic drops his head and starts laughing, the staff right along with him.
“What’s your sign?” He asks once he gathers himself.
“Cancer.”
“Ah, that makes sense. You probably have a mommy kink or some shit huh?” You look at him in disbelief and suck your teeth when your staff betrays you with giggles.
“I do not–”
“Momm–.”
“Dominic.” You warn, glaring at him. He bursts out laughing, and you can’t help the scoff you let out.
“You know, they do say that Capricorns and Cancers are the mom and dad of the zodiac.” You try to reason.
“You’re the mom right?” He asks. You squint your eyes at him and dig around the space between you two. He’s simpering at you, trying to prove his mommy kink bit.
“I lied, I'm a Leo.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I know.” You pull out a little knitted beanie baby from the blankets. It wears the hat Dominic had on during Coachella. “A fan made this for you right?”
“Yes, she did! Isn’t it sick?”
“It is. How does it feel having some of the most creative fans there is out there?”
Dominic looks between you, and the plush, then reaches his hand out for it. “You know, it's almost surreal. This fame shit kinda came out of nowhere for me, so there was a huge adjustment period I went through when it came to people supporting me and giving me things they put so much time into.”
You nod, letting him continue.
“I think I’m still adjusting to it really, but nothing brings me more joy than like seeing this stuff you know? I love my fans, and I’d be nothing without them.”
“It seems they love you back just as much, if not more.” Dom grins and nods, “Yeah, I’d say so. They’re so fucking creative.”
“Have you read your fanfics?”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Because I have one right here we can—” You stop mid-sentence and pull out your phone.
“Are you serious?” He looks at the camera as if he was Jim from The Office when you ignore him, and begin typing with urgency.
“This is the most excited I’ve seen you since this started.”
You ignore his comment and hand him your phone with a fic pulled up.
“Read this.”
“Yo, do you read these yourself? You found this way too fast.”
“I found this one last night. Now read.”
It’s a Tumblr story you saved for this very moment, and you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.
“Smut? What’s smut?” He looks at you for an answer, but you just gesture your hands toward the phone for him to keep reading.
It’s silent for a few, and you signal your cameraman to zoom in on Dominic’s face.
You watch as his face morphs into confusion, then surprise, then what you assume is mild interest, before he’s pulling the phone back and his eyes are blown wide.
“Holy fucking shit y’all write porn about me?” The crew erupts into laughter, and you tuck your lips in to avoid laughing too.
“Smut.” You say.
Dominic glances from you, back to the phone.
“Why am I kinda turned on by this.”
“Because I wrote it.”
Dominic whips his head towards you, and his mouth drops.
“Wait really?” You don’t respond, reaching down to the floor and pulling up a box of Reese’s Puffs cereal.
“Reese’s?” You ask, dropping a handful into your mouth and holding the box out to him.
“Where did you—” Dominic keeps the same shocked expression and turns back towards the camera. The cameraman starts to laugh again and zooms in on his face.
“When did you—” He stops, watching you chew with mild interest to his confusion. So he presses his lips together, clicks your phone off, and folds his hands together over his lap.
“Yeah, let me get some.” You wordlessly lean over and Dominic tilts his head back so you can shake some cereal from the box into his mouth.
“Good?” You ask while chewing.
“Yeah.” He nods. Silence ensues while you both continue to chew while staring at each other. Then at the same time, you turn to the camera with monotone expressions. It’s unplanned, and the crew let out chuckles once again.
“So how was touring?” You swallow, and reach down towards the floor again, pulling up two bowls with spoons in them. Dom’s learned not to question you anymore at this point, and just accepts a bowl.
“It was fucking fun dude. I wasn’t expecting everyone to know the words of my album for the first few dates since I toured a solid week after the release.”
“Resse’s, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, or Lucky Charms?”
“Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”
You pull up that box, and pour some into his bowl, then yours. “It must have felt incredible to hear them yelling it back to you. Did it?”
“Oh man, I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever get used to. A lot of my songs are me just fucking around and making stuff that people can dance to you know?” You nod, and bring up a jug of milk, filling up your bowl, then Dom’s.
“So when I’m performing, it kinda feels like me and my fans are just kicking shit up. I’m dancing, they're dancing, it feels good. It’s fun. Whatever’s bothering them can just be forgotten for a bit.” He takes a spoonful of cereal to his lips and hums around his spoon.
“I was at one of your shows, the LA one. And what I noticed was that your energy on stage is unbelievable.” You press your cereal down into the milk with your spoon, before continuing.
“Like, you look so youthful, and just in your element up there. You bring such an intense and loving energy to every show and I strangely found myself missing you when it was all over and I’d never even formally met you until now.”
It’s silent for a moment, Dominic soaking up your words while you begin eating.
“Was that your way of confessing? Are we like gonna kiss now?”
You roll your eyes and your crew giggles.
“No, but seriously, thank you. That means the world, especially when like I said before I’m still adjusting to this shit.”
“Well for what it’s worth, I think you’re navigating through all this perfectly. It’s why I became a fan in the first place. Your talent is unique to you and only you. And I mean it when I say talent like that only comes once in a lifetime.”
You point your spoon at him, “I’m sure I can speak for all of us when I say we’re beyond lucky to experience you and all your greatness in our lifetime.” You give him a big smile.
Dominic stares at you, and you can’t read his expression but you also don’t look for too long. Opting to look into your cereal bowl, because you could feel the love-sick look that was about to show on your face.
“You’re too good at this sentimental shit dude, what the fuck.” His voice sounds a bit choked up, so you try to lighten the mood.
“Don’t start crying on here or I’ll be forced to use it as my thumbnail for views.” The staff comes to your aid with laughter, and Dominic joins in.
“You wouldn’t do that.” He goes to wipe his face with his shirt but is met with silence and your face back to its deadpan. He looks between you and the staff, then the camera. He speaks a little unsure, his voice going up a pitch.
“Right?”
You fully break character and full-on laugh. Unable to keep up your act with him.
The podcast continues for a bit longer before you bring it to a close.
“Is there anything else you’d like to say before I take a nap in your bed?” The cameraman zooms in on Dominic.
“Um, thank you for having me. This was easily my favorite interview I’ve done. The cereal was great.” he laughs and holds up the bowl. “To my fans, I love you all so much, thank you for always showing out for me.”
“Please continue to love my album, and stay tuned for what’s to come.” Someone behind the camera whistles, and everyone begins clapping.
The camera zooms out and shows you staring at Dom with the expression you feared the most. You’re looking at him with a dopey smile, cheek resting against the palm of your hand.
One of the staff calls out your name, and you blink, jumping up and looking at the camera, then back at Dom who’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin.
“Oh my god, were you falling in love with me just now?”
“No, what.” You scoff, looking around like he’s crazy.
“Holy shit, you were totally falling in love with me!” He laughs while moving up and pointing at you excitedly. The staff once again, betray you and join Dom. You mutter curses and pull back the blankets, stumbling off the bed and speed-walking away. The camera follows you, as you go behind the staff and all the equipment.
“Wait, I’m sorry!” Dominic’s still laughing, hopping up and following after you.
“Let me take you out to dinner, I’m sorry!” He calls, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and slinging himself over you, while you cover your face and groan.
The camera follows you both all the way out until you turned the corner. Laughs still loud and boisterous on the set.
#dominic fike fan fiction#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike smut#elliot#elliot euphoria#elliot imagine#elliot smut#dominic fike imagine#elliot euphoria imagine#elliot fanfic#dominic fike x reader#dominic x reader#elliot x reader#elliot euphoria fanfic#elliot imagines#elliot euphoria fanfiction#elliot euphoria x reader#dominic fike fic#dominic fike fics#dominic fike fluff
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