#Dylan o'brien x reader
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The devil works hard but fanfic writers work harder
Ps. Y’all are amazing and the most creative writers ❤︎. keep up the amazing work ✩
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#jim hopper#billy hargrove#dylan o'brien x reader#harrison osterfield x reader#remus lupin x reader#zendaya coleman imagine#multiverse of madness fanfic#euphoria x reader#teen wolf#the avengers#marvel cast x reader#marauders x reader#marvel#peter parker x stark!reader#star wars#obi wan kenobi#anikin skywalker#x reader#joey keery#hayden christensen#anisa’s nonsense
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eye ... just had a thought but abt stiles (cw unprotected piv + creampies)
stiles fucking you, hips pushing into yours with a certain desperation you only get to see in small doses. tonight, he's let completely go, doe eyes bigger and more watery than usual, his tongue looser than it's ever been before as he babbles praises, his grip tight and unyielding against your skin. it's cute, adorable even, to watch him drive himself insane as you purposefully squeeze around him, your nails dragging along his scalp, pushing the sweat-matted hair off of his forehead affectionately.
you know that the cause of his demise is technically your fault, as you were the one begging to forgo the use of a condom for the night. you needed stiles, you really did, but he'd made you cum twice, and a third was brewing, and at this point you were more entranced with the way he managed to hold off throughout your own orgasms. you were transfixed with his appearance, eagerly awaiting for his warning.
the words follow quicker than you'd expected, a pathetic whimper of, "i'm close," slipping past his swollen lips. you know he's telling you to unlink your ankles from his back. he's asking you to let him pull away from you, to prevent a potential accident that would cause more trouble than it's worth.
but you couldn't care less right now, reckless behavior be damned. your link at his back tightens, you pull him closer into you, your nails dig into his scalp as a warning when his eyes widen, almost comically.
"sweetheart, ah, lemme, i gotta–" you shake your head, pulling stiles down for a kiss. he hesitates, but he could never resist your lips, his own puckering to meet yours in a messy, sloppy kiss that is more clashing of teeth and tongue and swapping of saliva than anything else.
your lips separate from his with enough room to speak, enough room for his attentive ears—used to seeking out your moans and whimpers and whines—to hear you.
"come in me, stiles. please, i need it."
stiles would never deprive you of something you wanted, much less something you needed. so he nods, obedient in nature, and then his thrusts get sloppy and he stills with one hard thrust, warm spurts of cum painting your walls. you gasp, unused to the feeling, back arching as stiles' thumb circles your clit. your own orgasm (the third of the night) sinks into you, sliding down throughout your body as stiles is still twitching from his.
he doesn't pull out, not yet, instead burying his head in the crook of your neck, letting you comb through his hair as the both of you attempt to regain your breath. stiles miraculously recovers first, lips appreciatively kissing over your sweaty skin, hand rubbing along your side until it stops.
he stills once more, lifting himself up to look you in the eye. "you took your pill this morning, right?" you nod, still a little hazy from the feeling of stiles' cum leaking out around his cock still sheathed inside of you. "and uh ... how much is plan b again?"
you shrug. "around 50 i think?"
a beat. "shit."
#stilesworld!#deep sigh#need so so bad#but im not on bc anymore#so I dont rlly need#but I want#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski x you#stiles stilinski smut#stiles stilinski#Dylan o'brien x reader#Dylan o'brien x you#Dylan o'brien smut#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf x you#teen wolf smut#teen wolf
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hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.
wc: 1.6k
cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.
Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…
They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.
Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.
Well, maybe a few things.
Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).
They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.
One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.
Two, he loved to take care of her.
So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.
It was fucking perfect.
One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.
Like now.
The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.
So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).
———
Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.
As if anyone else could do what he does for her.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.
Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.
She needed a good cry.
“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”
She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).
Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.
Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).
The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?
Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.
She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.
Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.
“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.
Oh? She wanted to order him around?
“Please.”
Oh. Guess not.
“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.
She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.
“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”
“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.
How precious.
“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”
She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.
“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”
Y/N does not need to be told twice.
One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.
They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.
He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.
And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.
“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.
He gives her one, anyway.
“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.
“Huh?”
“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”
Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.
“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.
It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.
…Oh well.
So be it.
“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.
“Daddy’ll make it take.”
#evelyn speaks#i hope this cheers u up bubbles :(((#sending love kithes and hugs <33#harry styles x reader#jon bernthal x reader#sebastian stan x reader#dylan o'brien x reader#drew starkey x reader#rudy pankow x reader#chris evans x reader#ross lynch x reader#aaron taylor johnson x reader#jermey allen white x reader#carlos sainz x reader#cillian murphy x reader#tom hardy x reader#hayden christensen x reader#andrew garfield x reader#smut#smutty fic#writing#fanfic#fanfiction
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i just need a dorky nerdy man with brown hair and big brown eyes to be my boyfriend PLEASE
#daisy rambles#yes im talking about#stiles stilinski#dylan o'brien#ethan landry#jack champion#max cooperman#sam winchester#luke cooper#kit walker#alex adult world#evan peters#stiles stilinksi x reader#dylan o'brien x reader#ethan landry x reader#jack champion x reader#luke cooper x reader#max cooperman x reader#evan peters x reader#sam winchester x reader
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the greatest films of all time !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their love was made for the movies but it's like they all say, the greatest films of all time were never made.
or
for when you know enough to know that you want to move through time with them and them only. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // various celebrities x fem!driver!reader
warnings - language
author's note - a short series bc i literally cannot stick with my original ideas 😭😭 requests are CLOSED my inbox is 100+ i am not kidding im so sorry :((
i. milo manheim ༉‧₊˚.
( every dead end street led you straight to me )
ii. ben barnes ༉‧₊˚.
( you'll be my best friend until we grow old )
iii. drew starkey ༉‧₊˚.
( 'cause summers go so fast )
iv. dylan o'brien ༉‧₊˚.
( your past and mine are parallel lines )
v. matt sturniolo ༉‧₊˚.
( you'd be the love of my life when i was young )
...more !!!
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#oscar piastri x reader#carlos sainz x reader#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x platonic!reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 grid x reader#milo manheim x reader#ben barnes x reader#dylan o'brien x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#drew starkey x reader
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Stiles blurb with him and the reader having a little makeout session then Scott barges in and Scott looks like a proud parent 😭😭
“Easy…easy, Princess—”
“Stiles…come on—”
“Shh. You can be patient, can’t you?”
You lean back and catch his eye, offering a flat look. “Have you met me?”
He grins, chuckling under his breath as he smooths his palms up your spine while tugging you closer. “Touché.”
With that, his kisses return to your throat, teeth scraping down your feverish skin as your head drops back and your eyes fall closed.
You’ve never needed someone so badly. So urgently. So salaciously. He’s fucking everything.
And he knows it.
“Don’t go quiet on me,” he murmurs, nose nudging under your jaw. “Not after all that begging you did earlier.”
You whimper despite yourself, fingers in his hair as he rolls your hips over his.
“It was cute.” He nips at your chest. “Hearing you beg me to touch you. Watching you squirm in your seat. Put my hand between your thighs under the table. In the middle of the goddamn library, too. S’that how bad you needed me?”
You don’t answer. Can’t. Your cheeks are already flushed, and your mind is hazy but Stiles doesn’t care.
The sadistic prick.
“Does history turn you on? Is that it?” he teases, smirking when you whisper his name. “Had to drag me to the nurse's office just to fuck me? Is that it?”
“Stiles—”
“Say it,” he hisses, hand around the back of your neck as he squeezes, forcing your eyes on his. “Go on. Tell me what I wanna hear. Tell me how bad you fucking need me—”
“Stiles—”
“Stiles?”
The sound of a third voice brings your attention to the door, both of your eyes widening as you find Scott with his head peeking in from the hallway.
His eyebrow cocks up when he realizes what he’s walked into, blinking quickly as he mumbles, “Oh, my bad. Malia said you weren’t...feeling…well?”
Neither you nor Stiles move, somehow frozen as Scott’s mouth begins to turn up in a rather smug smirk.
“But I see you’re feeling much better now,” he declares, nodding his chin at the two of you. “Carry on, Obi-Wan.”
And with that, he slips back into the hall and closes the door, leaving Stiles to groan as he drops his forehead onto your chest. “He gets the reference wrong every fucking time, I swear to God—”
“I thought you locked the door,” you laugh as you slip off his lap to do just that. “It’s like you want to get caught.”
He watches you suspiciously as you return to him, grabbing onto your hips as you straddle his waist. “Oh, I’m the one who wants to get caught, huh? When you were screaming so loud last time, half the station heard you.”
“Listen, it’s not my fault you had to have me right then and there,” you argue. “I mean, your dad was a few hundred feet away—”
“Right, and we would have gotten away with it, if you hadn’t done exactly what I said not to do, and moaned—”
“I couldn’t help it, baby,” you suddenly whisper in a needy purr, dipping down to ghost your lips over his as your fingers drag through the soft hairs on the nape of his neck. “Can never help it when it comes to you.”
And suddenly, he’s not so upset anymore, hands tugging at you until you both go crashing back against the small mattress.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, hands already slipping under your skirt.
Your breath hitches.
“Then let’s make it two for two.”
~ Full Masterlist
~ Other Dylan Blurbs
#dylan#dylan o'brien#dylan obrien#dylan o'brien one shot#dylan o’brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien request#dylan o'brien blurb#stiles#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski smut#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles stilinski blurb#stiles stilinski request#stiles stilinski x you#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien x you
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My flannel
Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader
I awoke to an involuntary shiver coursing through my body. Instinctively, I stretched my arm out in search of my boyfriend, Stiles, but he wasn't there. Emitting a disheartened groan, I shifted my focus towards Stiles' side of the bed, only to discover the window agape, permitting the morning sun to cascade within, its brilliance so intense it could potentially blind those who dared to gaze in its direction. Flipping on my back, I rubbed away the remnants of sleep from my eyes before lifting the sheets away from my nearly exposed form. The moment that the fabric was off my body, the wintry breeze made its presence known, caressing my bare arms and legs. I got out of bed, stumbling over towards the window, almost falling down multiple times, but eventually managing to close and lock it.
I looked around the room, seeing my clothes scattered about. Sighing, I made my way to the open closet, rummaging through Stiles' collection of flannels and jackets until I found the one I wanted to wear. I pulled a multi-colored flannel out of his closet, putting it over my shoulders, and buttoning up all the buttons before descending out of his room, making my way down the stairs and into his kitchen.
Immediately upon entering the room, I saw Stiles sitting at the island table, scrolling through his phone. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, before placing multiple kisses from his jaw to his cheek "Morning," he mumbled, leaning back into my arms.
"Hey Sti," I murmured into his neck.
After a few minutes of staying in that position, I reluctantly pulled away, only to perch myself upon his lap moments later. Settling into a crisscrossed posture, I leaned back into his chest. "Am I just a chair to you?" He teased, a laugh accompanying his joke.
"Yes, and my own personal footrest," I retorted, offering a bratty smile before quickly turning away.
"Ouch, I feel so used." He faux- pouted, before dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if it was wounded.
Glancing back at him, I noticed his gaze fixed upon me. However, he wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at what I was wearing. He bit his lip before speaking up. "Is this mine?" He lightly pinched a portion of the fabric, tugging it lightly.
"No, it's mine," I asserted, looking down at my hands.
With an eyebrow raised and a smirk plastered on his face, only made my protectiveness over the flannel intensify. "My shirt," I declared, arms crossed defensively as I turned my head aside, a pout evident on my face, as I hoped Stiles wouldn't make me return his flannel.
Stiles lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, all while looking me dead in the eyes. "What does that say?" He asked, pointing to his name that was written on the the tag.
"Fine, it's yours," I said, sighing in defeat.
"I like how it looks on you," he pressed a light kiss to my temple, quietly laughing at the way my eyes lit up.
"Does that mean I can keep it?" I asked, offering the widest smile I could muster.
"Absolutely not. But you can wear it whenever you want." He said, his hands settling on my thighs, as he rubbed his hands up and down.
"I'll take it!" I said, grabbing his coffee and drinking out of it before making a face of disgust.
"Ew, what did you put in this?" I questioned, frowning as he laughed at me.
"I didn't put anything in it love, it's just coffee," he explained, pointing to the dark liquid in the cup.
"Well, you're weird for liking this; it's gross." I said, pouting even more as his laughter persisted.
#dylan o'brien#stiles stilinksi imagine#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o’brien fanfiction#dylan o'brien one shot#dylan o’brien smut#stiles stilinksi fanfiction#stiles stilinski fic#stiles stilinski one shot#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski smut#teen wolf imagines#dylan o'brien fanfic#dylan o'brien fanfiction
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ok but like maybe stiles stilinski with a spoiled rich reader maybe who has vibes like lydia?¿? maybe w number 21 ?¿? possibly…
—𓆩[warmth]𓆪—
omg, this is literally the longest fic I've ever written for this blog, I really hope you guys enjoy it!
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Stiles Stilinski x Fem! Rich! Vampire! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 6.0K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - No one expected you and Stiles to start dating. Come on, a rich vampire posing as a high school student who could’ve been a real life Cullen? Fuck no. But, it happened, and Stiles fucking loves you - and your fangs - probably more than he should, and he wants to try something.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and smut || I was forced to watch twilight and this is what happened I love it || kinda sub stiles || mentions of mates || scent glands || marking || mentions of Wattpad & fanfic || i got WAY too into this shit man- || stiles did research || biting kink || blood kink || multiple rounds || oral || face sitting || cum eating || creampie || unprotected sex ||
“So, tell me again how this happened?” Coach was baffled as you sat in his class, your hand in Stiles’ as the topic interrupted your lesson in your economics class. “Like, the dating part. How the heck did you end up with her, Stilinski?!”
You cleared your throat, raising your hand. “I uhm… we’ve been dating for a while, Coach.”
“Yeah, I know! I just didn’t believe it until I saw Stilinski trying to kiss you when he thought I wasn’t looking! Come on kid, you’re that desperate?!” Bobby groaned, pressing his face into his hands. “Why is it always the nice ones who get with the… the Stiles?”
You laughed. “I don’t know who you’ve talked to, Coach, but I am not nice.”
“Yeah, she’s not!” Scott said, twirling his pencil before you glared at him. “Nice. Sh-She’s not nice.”
“Oh, shut up, McCall! You’re just mad because Stiles likes hanging out more with me than you,” you stuck your tongue out at him, letting out a soft humph as you cross your legs under the desk. “And he’s mad I took his boyfriend too.”
“Y/N, we weren’t-”
“Hush darling, Scott and I are talking,” you say, smiling widely at him as you kiss his nose. “Thank you baby.”
“This isn’t happening,” Coach groaned into his hand before the bell rings, a giggle falling from your lips. “Right? This isn’t happening?”
“Oh it’s happening!” You laughed, standing as Stiles cleared his throat.
“Y/N, baby, I have practice today.” He said, Scott coming behind him and sticking his tongue out at you. “I’m sorry.”
You pouted, pretending to think. “Why don’t you just skip? I’ll buy the school new lacrosse gear.”
“I’m right here!” Coach yelled, but quickly got up. “I would be interested in new lacrosse gear though.”
“Yeah, see? Come on, let’s skip.”
“No! We have the quarter-finals this week, he can’t miss. Y/N, he can’t miss,” Scott turned to you, hoping that he could persuade you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. “Come on.”
“Oh I forgot about that,” coach mumbles, glaring at the wall. “Okay, he’s gotta come, but the school would like new lacrosse gear.”
“Here, how about this,” you say, shaking your head as you fix your skirt. “Stiles goes to practice and I’m on the field.”
Coach scoffed. “On the field? Doing what?”
“I don’t know,” you hummed, leaning on the table as you pulled Stiles closer. He followed obediently as you licked your teeth, humming. “Play lacrosse?”
Scott scoffed. “Play lacrosse?”
You tilted your head, crossing your legs. “What, like it’s hard?”
Coach starts to laugh, nodding. “Okay! Okay, you’ll be on the field! Stiles, lend your girlfriend some clothes, we’re getting new lacrosse gear!”
Coach walked out as you giggle, Stiles staring at your smile and the sharpened canines that he fucking loved to stare at.
Scott starts to walk out, pausing to look back at the two of you. “Stiles, you coming?”
“I-In a minute, Scott,” he smiled back at his friend before looking at you who positioned yourself on the desk with crossed legs. “I’ll be there.”
He hummed as he walked out, Stiles letting his hands settle on your hips as you parted your legs so he could slot himself between them. “Hey, my darling.”
You giggled, pushing back his hair. “Hey, honey,” you whisper back, smiling as you nuzzle your nose against his with a soft sigh. “Do you… do you think I’m too mean to Scott?”
“You’re not mean,” he says, laughing. “You and him have like… an ancestral rivalry. He’ll get over it.”
You giggle, pulling him closer for another firm kiss, groaning as your tongue pushed into his mouth, your hand pulling his head back by tugging on his hair. He groaned loudly as your tongue circled around his, humming as your head pounded. You could hear his heart beating incredibly fast, his arteries pulsating, and by hell’s name, you could smell the horniness drifting off of his body, along with the smell of dog because of Scott.
Even newly turned, you could still control yourself with Stiles as of yet. You both had had sex a few times, more than a few actually, but that was before you were actually aware of his… human-ness. You were born a vampire, now in your final years of highschool as you aged regularly and your family was kept alive by blood bags supplied by the numerous hospitals your family owned.
Your instincts never got in the way because of how well fed you were, but this was different. You could feel everything; his heart, his arteries, his veins, fuck even his cock pulsating. Your heightened senses caught everything, groaning as you attempted to pull him closer, another loud groan falling from his lips as you pulled him closer, a choke filling your ears making you pull away, your fangs grazing his bottom lip making him hiss.
A shiver runs down your back as he lets out a soft groan, laughing slightly as he licks his lip. “You alright, Y/N?”
You hummed, not really paying attention to his words as you stared at his lip dripping with that delicious coppery liquid, leaning forward to lick against his lip and a loud groan left his mouth as you sucked on his lip, desperate for that taste. It was different though, his blood tasted sweet, unlike blood bags, animals, and even humans for fucks sake.
“Y-Y/N,” he whispered, groaning. “I-It kind of hurts.”
You gasped as you pulled away, staring at his slightly swollen bottom lip as he smiled down at you, pushing back your hair. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, humming so that you would look at him. “Hey, Y/N, don’t worry about it,” he says, his smile growing as he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “I’ll be a blood bank for you any day.”
You inhale sharply, shaking your head. “Don’t say that. Y-You don’t know how dangerous that is.”
“Why?” He asked, tilting his head. “I know you can control yourself.”
You scoffed, pushing him back. “Did you not see what I just did? If you wouldn’t have said something, I would’ve kept going.”
“But I did say something,” he says, quickly stepping forward and holding your hips again. “Just because I said it hurt-ed, doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head. “Hurt-ed?”
He hummed, nodding. “Hurted. It’s the past tense.”
You shook your head, laughing. “No it’s not, the past tense is still hurt.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not anymore, it’s hurted now.”
You giggle, shaking your head before sighing. “I’m gonna go write that check, okay? I… I think I’m gonna go home, too.”
His brows ruffled, quickly blocking you from jumping down. “Why?”
“Because it’s not safe for me to be around so many people,” you responded, humming as you quickly went around him. “Come to my house after school? We need to talk.”
He quickly caught your hand, one you could’ve easily avoided, but he shook his head. “Y-You’re not breaking up with me, right?”
You giggled, smiling sadly with a shake of your head. “Just meet me at my house, alright?”
He cleared his throat but nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly pulling you in for a soft kiss. “I love you, Y/N, I love you so much.”
You hummed softly, nodding. “I love you too, my darling.”
He swallowed as you walked out, pulling out your checkbook and writing a number with a lot of zeros on the main line before crossing out the rest, signing and doing the rest of the things before passing by Coach and pressing it to his chest. “Let me know if you need more, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“What? Where are you going?” He yelled out as you waved back at him.
“Have something to do at home! I’ll see you!” You yelled, looking back with a smile. “Good luck, Coach!”
He mumbled something as you walked out, quickly making your way back home and parking outside your secluded mansion that truly could’ve been out of the movie. It didn’t take you long to get up to your room, quickly getting caught by Kirshe, one of the vampire elders that your parents were friends with. “Y/N, are you alright?”
Of course she knew what you were feeling. “O-Oh, I’m fine,” you responded, humming with a slight smile. “Just some… relationship problems.”
She paused, her golden eyes trailing down your body before flashing a bright red. “He doesn’t know he’s your mate, does he?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Not only that, Kirshe.”
She hummed, taking a deep inhale. “And he’s human too, isn’t he?”
You inhaled deeply, nodding. “Taken in by a pack of dogs.”
Kirshe laughed. “Oh, it’s always the best of us, my love. He’s… why are there problems now?”
“I tasted his blood,” you giggled, shaking your head with a scoff. “It’s just like the stories describe it. Addicting, sweet… perfect.”
“Do you want to turn him?” She asked, making you shrug. “Does he want to be turned?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
Back at the school, Stiles was going crazy. “Do you think she’s going to break up with me?”
“She would never,” Scott responded, scoffing. “She’s too in love with you.”
“You’re just mad because you thought she was hot,” Stiles grinned, putting on a shirt that hadn’t been near Scott. He knew how much you hated the smell of wolves. “Right?”
“Oh shut up,” Scott scoffed, shaking his head. “Where did she go anyways?”
“Home.” Stiles said, humming. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I can smell how horny you are.”
Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I uhm… we were making out earlier. She was… sucking on my lip after it started bleeding.”
Scott froze, quickly looking at him. “What?”
“You’re overreacting so much,” Stiles said, shrugging. “We’ve had sex before.”
“But she’s never sucked your blood, right?”
Stiles could feel his cheeks heat up, about to say something before Scott groaned loudly. “Dude, the smell got stronger! Holy shit, does that turn you on?!”
“Fuck yeah it does!” Stiles said, thankful the two of them were the only ones in the locker room. “Dude, when we like, get heated, she runs her fangs along my neck, holy shit, it’s so hot.”
“And you want her to suck your blood?” Scott paused, staring at him. “You want her to turn you?”
Stiles paused, staring down at his bag before inhaling deeply. Is this what Bella Swan was feeling when she was with Edward Cullen?
“I want to be with her for the rest of my life,” Stiles said, grabbing his bag before smiling at Scott. “If it’s this one or one hundred, I don’t care. I want her, forever.”
Scott inhaled deeply before sighing, shaking his head with a slight smile. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”
Stiles smiled, all sarcasm gone. “Yeah, I am.”
“What about your dad?” Scott asked the inevitable question, inhaling deeply. “I-I’m not trying to like… ruin anything, but if you get turned… what are you going to do to him?”
Stiles smiled, shrugging. “He’ll be my dad. Always. What he wants to do is up to him.”
After that, he waved goodbye and quickly drove to your house, way over the speed limit to get there faster. As soon as he pulled up, he smiled when he saw you on your balcony, staring at him like you knew he was coming - which you probably did.
He quickly got out, waving up at you as you giggled. Normally your family was there to greet him, but they were obviously gone as he walked inside and up to your room.
He doesn’t knock, mainly because there was no point, slowly walking behind you as you stood on your balcony. His arms go to wrap around your waist, leaning onto your body as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, your hand going to hold his jaw as you exhaled deeply. “How was practice?”
“Good,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Missed you. I changed into something that I hope doesn’t smell like Scott.”
You giggle, nodding. “And it doesn’t, thank you.”
“So uhm…” he whispered, humming against your neck as you moved your hands to settle over his. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Well, you read up on vampires when you met me, right?” You hummed, smiling as he nodded into your neck. “Did you get to the part about mates?”
He paused, his hands tightening around your waist. Did you find your mate? He had read up about them, but never really retained the information because no one ever spoke of them, but obviously for pure blooded vampires like your family, of course they existed.
“I-I… I did,” he whispers, pulling you closer. “There wasn’t much about how it works for bloodborne vampires.”
“Would you like for me to tell you how it works?” You asked, smiling up at him.
“Wh-Why would you tell me if I’m not your mate?” Stiles whispered, slight annoyance in his voice before you started laughing. “What?”
“Stiles, you’re so lucky you’re hot,” you turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re my mate.”
He paused, staring down at you blankly. He was your mate? Why?
When you started laughing, he realized he must’ve said it out loud, your hands cupping his face. “Why not? I think it’s fitting, don’t you?”
“Th-That’s not what I meant,” he didn’t mean to stutter, it always happened around you though. He groaned loudly as your fingers dragged down his neck, sparks following your touch as you smiled up at him. “I meant like… how are we mates?”
You paused, pursing your lips. “Kirshe said mates are decided by the gods where in past lives their love ‘changed the fate of the world’,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply as you stroked his hair. “Do you think we could’ve changed the fate of the world, Stiles? In our past lives?”
He inhaled deeply, nodding as he leaned his forehead down against yours. “I know we could’ve,” he whispered back, pressing his lips softly against yours. “Because I love you more than anything else in the world.”
You smiled widely, letting out a loud laugh as he picked you up and turned the both of you around to go back into your bedroom. He slowly laid you in the bed, crawling over your body and laying down next to you to pull you into his chest. You sighed heavily against his chest, stroking his shirt before pulling it down slightly to see his exposed skin. You could hear his heart beating, his valves and ventricles pumping, his lungs inhaling and exhaling, his diaphragm expanding and deflating - fuck, at this point, you hated that he was human at this point.
“Y/N?”
You hummed, looking up at him as your fingers trail over his exposed collarbone. “Yes, my love?”
“I-I was wondering… if you could uhm… turn me. Like, actually turn me… into a vampire like you,” Stiles said as you started to sit up, staring at your face pinched up as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”
“Stiles, why do you want to be a vampire?” You asked, staring at him like he was crazy. “You would watch the people you love die over and over again. You have the choice to grow old and-”
“And what about you?” He whispered, taking your hand in his. Besides his dad and Scott, you were the only person alive right now that he cared for, especially after he was impacted by Void. You stuck with him even after that, how could he let you go now? “You would watch me grow old and wait for me to be born again? Huh?”
“That’s not what I meant, Stiles-”
“I want to be with you,” the brunette filled in, staring at you with those whiskey colored eyes. “For the rest of my life, and I want it to be where you don’t have to watch me die in the end. I want to spend… the rest of my life young with you.”
“But in turning you, I’d watch you die too,” you whispered, inhaling deeply as your eyes watered. You had thought about this before, turning him, but then you thought about what he would go through. You were the first bloodborne vampire ever recorded, because of course the Court took note of every vampire turned, but you were the first one born of two Elders who didn’t think they could get pregnant. You knew what vampires went through when they’re turned, but what would Stiles go through? Turned by a bloodborne who was their mate? “You have to die to become a vampire, Stiles. I would have to kill you.”
“Then kill me.” He sat up, holding your face in his hands as he smiled at you. “I’ve died before, what's another time?”
“Not like this, Stiles,” you whisper, gasping as he wiped the tears from falling down your cheeks, leaning forward to kiss against your skin. “The turning of a mate isn’t something that just happens. It takes days, months, rituals, I have to mark you, we have to be married for fucks sake-!”
You couldn’t finish, gasping as he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap with a loud groan. “Well then mark me. That’s the start, right?”
You gaped at him, his stupid smile as he stared at you. “You know that means I have to bite you, right?”
“Yeah, it’s like those werewolf stories on Wattpad.”
“You were on Wattpad?”
“It was a dare, moving along. Does it like stay a bite mark or does it like turn into a tattoo?”
“I don’t know, a bloodborne has never marked anyone before,” you say, but your eyes narrow at him. “The hell are you reading where it turns into a tattoo?”
“I don’t know, it turns into their initials,” he shrugged, but paused. “Do I get to mark you too?”
“You want to mark me?” You say, smiling with a slight bounce making him hold back a grunt. “You can mark me right now.”
He smirked, staring at you as you slipped off your shirt to expose your shoulder. “Didn’t you say there’s a process?”
“Not for marking,” you respond, but pause. “But if you mark me, we have to get married soon, because I have to turn you in the span of a few months. Or maybe not because I'm bloodborne, so it could be different.”
“What if I don’t get turned?”
“You turn into a lust crazed monster until I do turn you, but it’s more lethal because since you’re so obsessed with sex, your mind doesn’t process the turn until your body is on fire. Well, it feels like it’s on fire.”
He pursed his lips. “So for the rest of eternity we’re just going to be a rich family hidden in the woods? Like the Cullens?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re just gonna ignore the fact that you’ll turn into a lust crazed monster?”
He grinned. “Well, who am I lusting for? You, right?”
“Well yeah, you have my blood in your veins, so of course you lust after me.”
“I see no problem in that.” He responds, ignoring the fact that his body might not register the turn.
You laughed, shaking your head as you pulled his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. “Well, you want to get this mating thing started, don’t you?” Your fingers move to trail down his chest after he unclasped your bra, your skin cold to the touch until his warm hands flattened against your back. “When you first bite, it’ll taste odd until that zing runs up your back. Then, I’ll tell you when to stop, alright? As soon as you stop, your mind might get kind of hazy and you’ll probably be really horny, alright?”
He laughed. “More horny than I am now? Impossible.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, tugging on the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Immediately, he pulls away and raises his arms for you to take off his shirt, your eyes staring at his mole covered chest. You inhale shakily as you finally meet his eyes, your hands pressed against his warm chest as he pushed his face into your neck, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you pulled him closer before kissing his ear.
“Are you sure you want this, Stiles?” You whisper, holding his face as you pull away. “It doesn’t have to happen now.”
He smiled up at you, shaking his head as he continued to press kisses to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “For the rest of eternity, remember?”
You smile, inhaling deeply as his tongue flattened against your neck making you lean your head to the side.
“Where do I bite?”
“Anywhere,” you mumbled, your mind hazy as you inhaled the smell that was so uniquely him, whiskey and mountain air combined with pine that made you walk straight toward him when you moved to town. “Anywhere you want.”
He pauses, pulling away to tilt his head up at you. “So it doesn’t have to be on your neck like in the stories?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course not. Anywhere you bite, like you said, it turns into initials surrounded by a slight imprint of your bite.”
He pauses, letting his eyes trail over your bare torso as he slowly moves so that you were actually seated in his lap. “Can I do it…” he lets his eyes trail over your skin, humming as he pressed a soft kiss to the space of skin a little lower to where the end of your clavicle was. “Here?”
“Why there?”
“Because,” he whispered, his eyes almost darkening as he let his tongue flatten against your skin, getting it wet with his spit as you groaned, tilting your head back. Your hips automatically roll into his, a loud groan falling from his mouth as he pulls away for a minute. “You gotta show it off, don’t you? Gets you to wear those low cut shirts I fuckin’ love.”
You gasped as his teeth finally sunk into your skin, your body basically on fire as he groaned against your skin. Like you said, it tasted weird at first, coppery and tangy until it flooded his mouth, the smell of the perfume you wore that he learned wasn’t actually perfume shifting into taste instead of the layers of smell you always smelled like. It was sweet and fruity, like strawberries and cherries with sweet cream and that white angel cake, tangy from the berries and sweet from the pastries.
Fuck, it tasted so good. His teeth were deep in your skin, the only cooling part of your body where his teeth sank and drew blood, his hot body making yours feel even hotter.
You could feel your mind get hazy, your eyes rolling back as he tried to suck harder, a loud groan falling from his lips as his hands pawed at your ass, your hips rutting into his almost automatically before you tugged on his hair. “St-Sti, not too much, you could get sick.”
He basically whined, only pulling away by the tug of his hair before licking over the bite mark left on your skin. He panted, watching it as though it would change into the black tattoo-ink like color he was truly expecting it to turn in an instant.
You giggled, quickly catching his jaw before pulling him up to look at you. “It’s not going to happen until I mark you first, my love.”
He stared up at you, eyes a dark chocolate color, lips slightly stained and his tongue tinted a darker red. “Oh.”
You giggle, leaning down to press firm kisses to his skin, never stopping your firm thrusts of your clothed hips against his own, tongue trailing around his skin scattered with moles. “Where do you want it, baby?”
“Where everyone can see,” his hands were shaking from excitement, the taste of your blood sending electricity through his body, tongue flattening against your shoulder and holding back the urge to sink his teeth in again. “Wherever you want it to be, as long as it’s on show.”
“So…” you whisper, letting your tongue trail down the side of his jaw, pushing against the moles under his ear. “Like, here? Or… lower?”
“A-A little lower, please,” he whispered, words breathy as he focused on your hips rolling into his, hard and your hot cunt sliding against his hard cock. He could feel your wetness through your shorts and his jeans, hissing as you leaned forward and kept your hips there, releasing your weight just a bit to keep his cock slotted between your folds. “Fuck, please.”
You hummed, your tongue flattening on the pulse filling your ears until going to the side of his neck. “Here?”
“Mhm,” he merely hummed, nodding into your neck as his hands shakily grabbed your hips. “D-Don’t stop your moving hips, please.”
You giggle, your eyesight basically blurring as you stare at his neck, that one mole catching your eye before you inhaled deeply and felt your canines extend, a comical shing filling the room as you sunk your teeth into his skin. You could barely focus on his cock rubbing against your clothed cunt, one of his hands slipping in between you both to tug your shorts and underwear to the side, pushing his fingers into your leaking cunt and his fingers thrusting into your cunt. You were so tight, so so tight and wet, two of his fingers easily pushing into you and rolling his fingers inside of you.
You were so distracted with the taste of his blood, pushing in and out, in and out, but it was nothing compared to how good he tasted. He tasted like caramel, underlying with nutty butterscotch and whiskey, maybe a slight bit of salt that balanced everything out. You groaned loudly, eyes flying open as he pulled his finger out, the sound of him unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them to pull his cock out of his boxers and push his tip into you making you moan loudly against his skin.
Oh it was almost as though you couldn’t stop, your head pounding as you felt his veins pumping and heart beating, a soft gasp making you pull away, cursing. Was it too much? Did you take too much from him?
“Why did you stop?” He whispered, staring up at you with hazy eyes. “I liked it. I-I loved it. It felt like lightning-”
“Stiles.”
“L-Like lightning was traveling down my spine and filling my veins-”
“Stiles.”
He paused, staring up at you as you looked down at your skin, smiling when you saw the initials MS surrounded by the faded gray bite mark. “Mieczysław. Fuck, I love that name, I love your name.”
“I love you,” he whispers back, smiling as you giggled down at him, his face pressing against your skin before kissing his initials. “I love you so much.”
You smile as he slowly pushes you onto your back, his eyes a dark chocolate brown as he pulls out just for a minute, pulling off his pants after kicking off his shoes and tugging down your shorts and pretty panties. Your eyes rolled back as he flattened his tongue against your wet slit, flicking his tongue against your puffed up clit before sitting back on his feet and pumping his cock. You could see his cock covered in cum, inhaling deeply as you looked over at his discarded boxers, a splatter of cum making you giggle.
“I made you cum in your pants, Mieczysław?”
He groaned as he pushed back into you, staring at the creamy ring he started to leave around your entrance that kept sucking him farther and farther into you. He groaned, his mind fully attentive to your cunt basically swallowing his length, whimpers and squirming finally starting when he left the last few inches. His eyes flickered up to your face, a groan falling from his lips as he saw his initials on your skin, your face pinched in pleasure and eyes rolling back as he thrusted into you sharply to watch that creamy ring settle on his base and your hands flying to his forearms.
“Fuck, fuck Stiles!”
He shook his head, holding your hips with a grunt. “No baby, call me by my real name,” he said, cursing softly as he started to thrust his hips, watching your body bounce with each thrust, your tits moving and his eyes trained on the mark he made. You were right, he was so fucking addicted to the feeling of you around his cock, more lightning traveling up his spine as your nails dug into his forearm, blood making your eyes flash red. “You always say it so fucking nice.”
He watched you groan loudly, moving so his chest pressed against yours and moving his arms to support him. He watched your mouth move to his forearms, your tongue flattening against his skin and licking up all of the blood, his mouth moving to your head to press kisses against your hair, groans falling from his mouth with each thrust before you moved to stare up at him, pulling him down to kiss him, that same coppery tang disappearing and fading into the same whiskey flavor you had been addicted to.
“Mieczysław,” you whispered, gasping as his thrusts got faster, whining as his hand pushed down to circle against your clit torturously before his other hand gripped your thigh, digging his nails so deep into your skin he drew blood. “F-Fuck!”
He groaned as he pushed his fingertips against your skin, covering them with that crimson liquid before pushing them into his mouth and slamming into you one last time to cum inside of you, the gushing of his cum making you cum from the almost inflation like feeling. It didn’t take you long to push him over, though, staring at his already healed forearm. You smiled as you began to roll your hips, desperate as his tip kissed your cervix, pushing deeper and deeper at this new angle as you moaned loudly, holding his chest and staring down at the mark with your own initials on his skin.
It fueled your movements, staring down at the cum smearing along his pelvis, whimpering as you bounced on his length. “Please, please, fuck!”
“You need my help, don’t you?” He teased, lifting his hips to roll into you at the same time you pushed down, your eyes rolling back as he pushed even deeper inside of you - something you truly didn’t think could happen. “Right?”
“Yes! Yes, yes!” You pleaded, gasping as he forced his hips up into you, thrusting over and over again at the same speed you were bouncing on his cock with even more force than you could ever imagine. You were so lost in pleasure, his warm hands holding your hips as you tried to stay sitting up, your body finally registering the fresh human blood in your veins. It had been a while since you had anything other than bagged blood or animal blood, and as a result, your high was gone and inevitably coming down until he slammed his hips up into you, your eyes rolling back as the knot in your stomach snapped and a loud moan of his name - his real name - left your mouth.
He groaned underneath you, his cum gushing out of your cunt as you slowly got off, staring at his still hard cock. You giggle, smiling as you pumped his cock and licked the cum sliding down his shaft, groaning as he bucked his hips up into your mouth. You kept it in your mouth, moaning loudly as you bobbed your head, pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and staring at his face.
You didn’t register his human features, not anymore, his blood pumping and his lungs filling with air or exhaling air, only the fact that the cum on his cock tasted so fucking delicious and your fingers cupping and squeezing his balls which made his hips buck and you pull back to feel his cum flood your mouth. You groaned, sucking on his pretty tip and your hand fisting his cock, swallowing the salty liquid before pulling away.
Your mind was full of lust as you slowly crawled up his body, his hands immediately catching your hips as you hovered over his face. His eyes were hazy with lust as you grinned down at him. "You're such a good boy, honey. I think you deserve a treat."
He groaned loudly as you slowly released your weight, holding the sides of his head as his hands hold your thighs, your hips rolling into his mouth as his tongue pushed into your cunt, basically pulling all of the cum from your pussy, your eyes rolling back as one of his hands pushed between your thighs and straight into your cunt.
His flexing fingers guided the rolls of your hips, moans falling from your lips as you attempted to cover your mouth before a finger pressed to your clit and his teeth grazed your pussy. You whined loudly, your stomach twisting as you attempted to chase that high, his fingers pushing into you to press against that place that made your stomach go tight and your eyes roll back, curses falling from your lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Mieczysław!”
He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations making you shiver as he slowly lifted you from his face and push you down so you sat on his cock. He slowly pushed into you, a shiver going down your back as he held your face, pulling you up for a firm kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, Mieczysław,” you whisper back, smiling as his lips quirked up into a smile of his own, sighing heavily. “Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah, I feel great,” he smiled, shrugging. “Really horny.”
You laughed, nodding. “We can keep going,” you whisper, smiling as you lay against his warm chest. “Just… let me lay here in your warmth for a minute.”
“Will you miss it?” He whispers, stroking your cheek as he stares down at you. “M-My warmth.”
You inhale deeply, nodding as your hand rubbed against his chest where his heart was, the beating already slowing down. “Yeah, I will,” you shrug though, giggling. “But we’re the first of our kind, my love. I’m hoping you’ll keep it.”
“Then I do too.”
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no plot needed
synopsis: porn without plot guys idk. stiles stilinski x reader, very horny, established relationship ig. enjoy
a/n: I am FEEDING y'all today jesus christ. thank me later (>ᴗ•)
“Kiss me again.” You whisper. Stiles smiles brightly, pulling you onto his lap. Your knees and shins press into his mattress. Legs separated as you straddle him. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and your hands connect behind his neck. His hands settle on your waist.
Stiles pulls you impossibly close and his mouth meets yours once again. Your fingers thread through his soft black hair. His tongue dancing with yours, and every tug of his hair had him groaning into your mouth. You settle into his lap more grinding softly into him. Pulling back briefly he looks into your eyes.
“If you keep doing that I’m going to have to lock my door.” Stiles mutters into your mouth. Giving you a quick peck.
“Then lock your door,” He raised a brow, which led you to start leaving wet kisses along his jaw. Which was enough convincing he needed. He nods quickly and lets you get up and move further onto his bed. A knock causes him to open the door and peek his head out. Stiles holds a quick conversation with his father before locking and shutting the door again.
“He’s gonna be out for the rest of the night.” Stiles said, approaching you on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You smiled brightly and brought his lips to yours once again.
Stiles worked your shirt over your head, and pulled his own off. As he worked your bra off your hands grazed along his chest, pressing down against his stomach. Once he took it off his hands replaced their material. Holding them, two fingers rolled your nipple. Causing your back to arch.
Stiles’ mouth latched onto the other, giving attention to both. He soon started sucking love-bites onto your boobs, blooming purple marks across the expanse of your chest. Stiles dragged his arms down your body, his fingers hooking on the waistband of your sweatpants. Pulling them down with the help of your lifted hips. Leaving you in just your plain white panties.
Stiles stands up and sheds his own pants and is left in his boxer briefs, a large bulge straining against his underwear. He pushed his hair back with his hand and settled on top of you again. He kissed your neck, sucking at your pulse point and making you moan.
Stiles wasted no more time, sliding your underwear down your legs and dropping them to the floor. He lying on his stomach and placing gentle kisses on your chest, working down to your thighs. Eventually lifting them up to rest on his shoulders.
Stiles placed gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs, his hot breath spread against your cunt. Eyes fluttering closed, you felt him kiss your clit. Dispersing soft kisses before upgrading to lapping at your cunt like a man starved. Stiles sucked your clit and teased your hole with his tongue. You felt his arm reach up towards your face, two fingers right in front of your mouth.
“Y’wanna do me a favor?” He asked, you nodded lightly and opened your mouth. Letting him stick his fingers inside. You swirled your tongue around him, and sucked before he pulled them back out again. Stiles then pushed one finger into you, curling it up and thrusting it in and out.
Soon enough a second finger was added. He curled it up just right so he’d hit that sweet spot. That, paired with Stiles sucking your clit, caused your orgasm to rush in. You felt a thick wave of euphoria rush over your body, your legs shook around his head and a loud moan of his name echoed within his room.
Stiles worked you down from your high until you were able to look him in the eye. Your entire body felt on fire. He smirked knowingly, his face glistening with your cum. Stiles kissed you, your cum mixing with his saliva and yours. After a long and deep kiss he pulled back.
“Wanna take my dick, or d’you wanna rest?” Stiles asked seriously, his worry for your wellbeing never fading.
“Mmm-mmm. Want your cock Sti, please. Want your cock.” You whined pulling him in for another kiss, to show him you were fine. He smiled against your lips and nodded. Standing up before sliding his underwear off. Your eyes widened at how large his cock was. You always seemed to forget how thick Stiles’ 7 inch long dick is.
“Think you can take it?” Stiles asked, concern lacing his voice. You nodded very enthusiastically.
“I can take it Sti, please let me try.” You whimpered. “Can I ride you?” You asked, puppy eyes fixed onto his.
“Of course you can ride me baby.” Stiles responded, you very excitedly watched him move to lay on his back. A pillow supporting his lower back so he could look at you.
You took his semi-hard dick, that was laying on his soft tummy, and started pumping it. You spat into your hand and continued to rub him, thumb briefly swiping over the tip. Precum coating your finger. You watched as Stiles’ cock became harder with each pump.
You reached over to his side drawer, pulling out a condom. You ripped the foil open and shrugged the condom over his cock. Stiles watched you lift yourself over him, teasing your folds with his tip. His hips bucked in impatience and you took that as a sign to sink yourself onto his dick.
You moaned the whole way down. Stiles filled the entirety of you, you sank until your thighs met his hips and your clit rubbed against the spot above his shaft. Your hands rested on his abdomen. Still trying to adjust to his girth. Stiles watched you slowly start rising and falling. Rocking your hips back and forth. He started snapping his hips up to meet yours.
You leaned back and used his legs as stability, rolling your hips and bringing yourself up and down. Stiles filled every part of you, his long cock kissing your hilt every time. And with every roll of your hips his thick dick greeted your sweet spot with ease.
Stiles’ moans and groans filled your ears. His hands gripped your hips tightly. Holding you up and pulling you down. His dull fingernails dug into you, hands hot and heavy against your skin. You felt your orgasm approaching, speeding up and bouncing quickly you tried to bring it closer.
“I’m gonna cum Sti,” You whined, pushing yourself up and down harder and harder. Legs shaking with the pressure of staying upright.
“Cum for me babe.” Stiles says, voice hoarse. You let yourself going quickly losing your pace and squeezing him like a vice. He would’ve doubled over in pleasure if he wasn’t already lying down. He thrusted very briefly before coming himself. You lied on top of him, sweaty and still a little shaky.
Stiles pressed a brief kiss to your forehead, lying his head against yours. Soon enough he stopped relishing in your post-sex glow and grabbed a soft washcloth to clean you and him both up. Stiles pushed you into the bathroom to pee while he got you some pajamas ready.
After you finished he presented one of his oversized graphic-tees, and your underwear. You took them gratefully and put each on. Hugging Stiles soon after, he smelled like sweet cologne, fresh laundry, and home. He settled down into his bed and offered you the spot next to him. You cuddled up under his arm and smiled up at him.
“Love you Stiles.” You hummed, nuzzling into his neck.
“I love you too baby.”
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Lover - Stiles Stilinski (Smut)
Author: @harringtonstilinski
Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Reader
Word Count: 5,141
Warnings: tiniest bit of angst, fluff,
Smut: no | yes; protected piv (i'll always do this), praise, oral (f receiving), slight overstimulation, slight dirty talk, slight moment of doggy style, squirting,
Requested: Yes. I hope this meets your expectations, and I'm so sorry it took me forever to get this out!!
A/N: Hi, friends! We got another Stiles fic, and we're getting nasty!! I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
Stiles Stilinski. Your twin brother’s best friend. The guy you’ve had a crush on for forever. He’s had feelings for you, as well, but chose not to act on it. He masked it with a crush on Lydia and then dated Malia. It made you sad seeing him and Malia kissing and all that, and in turn… it hurt him.
It hurt him because his best friend’s feelings got hurt on his account. So, he decided then that he didn’t want to be with Malia anymore if it was making his best friend hurt. Of course, Malia wasn’t too thrilled that he was putting his best friend over his girlfriend, but in time, she came to understand… plus, she had mad feelings for someone else.
Stiles had stood on your doorstep, waiting for you to come down after your mom had answered the door. With tear stricken cheeks, you had stood in front of your best friend, listening to him explain everything before giving him the biggest hug.
“You didn’t have to break up with her, though,” you had said.
“Eh, she had feelings for someone else, anyway,” he replied.
Looking at each other, you both smiled and said Theo’s name at the same, laughing at the fact that you both were completely in sync.
That was three months ago.
Today, you, Scott and Stiles were standing in the living room of your first ever college apartment, looking around at the furniture that your mom and Stiles’ dad brought up. They stayed until the bedrooms were a little bit put together, the living room furniture was up, and most of the pizza was eaten.
With a big smile on your face, you stretched your arms out, saying, “Can you freaking believe it?! Our own apartment!”
The boys chuckled, adjusting their ballcaps.
Slapping your hands on the other part of your thighs, your smile fell. “You aren’t excited? We’re gonna be living without our parents for the first time in our lives!” At seeing their eyebrows meeting their hairlines, you sighed loudly. “Okay, fine. Don’t be excited. I am gonna get a slice of pizza and head to my new bedroom to be excited… alone!”
You heard chuckles behind you as you closed your new bedroom door. Leaning against it, you sighed to yourself. Sure, you saw yourself living with Stiles and Scott, but… more so Stiles… alone… as a couple.
Scott and Stiles had sat down on the couch, TV turned on to the latest Mets game for Stiles. He looked towards the hallway where the bedrooms were, quietly releasing the deep breath he had taken.
“Don’t worry,” Scott said. “She’ll come around.”
Looking back at his best friend, Stiles replied, “What are you talking about?”
Chuckling, Scott threw his head back before looking at Stiles to say, “I can smell the chemosignals all over the both of you. I don’t see why you never asked her out.”
“Uhm, because she’s your sister and I didn’t want you to kick my ass,” Stiles spoke. “Plus, I know for a fact she doesn’t like me like that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because all she does is talk about some guy in our class and how happy he makes her.” Stiles looked down at his lap, messing with his fingers. “She’ll never see me as anything but her twin’s best friend.”
Without missing a beat, Scott replied, “You underestimate her too much.”
“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, looking at this best friend, eyebrows drawn together.
“I can literally smell the chemosignals on the two of you. It’s quite annoying, actually.”
Sighing, Stiles tilted his back on the couch. “What should I do then?”
“I don’t know,” Scott said. “Maybe talk to her? You never know what she’s thinking unless you actually have a fucking conversation with her.” He looked over at his best friend before sighing. “Look, I know she’s my sister, and I’m okay with the two of you pursuing… whatever. Just make sure that I’m your best man at the wedding. And… take it slow.”
All Stiles could do was nod his head and look back towards the hallway, not knowing that you were sitting at your door, listening to every word that was said between your brother… and your crush.
~~~
“Stiles, quit.” Silence for a moment. “Stiles. Quit.” Another moment of silence. “Stiles!”
“What’s going on?” Scott asked.
“Stiles won’t quit messing with me,” you said, typing on your laptop. “I’m trying to focus on my work and he won’t quit doing one of two things; poking me or throwing popcorn.”
“What are you? Five?” Scott asked.
You looked at your twin, softly smirking at the death stare he was giving his best friend. “Would you quit fucking messing with her? She’s got a paper due tomorrow.”
Stiles looked at you, eyes narrowed as you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re such a child.”
“You’re the one who won’t leave me alone!” you exclaimed. “Don’t you have your own work to do for your classes?”
Leaning back, he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Finished it all.”
“Uh-huh. And what about your criminal justice class?” you asked, an eyebrow cocked.
All movement from Stiles stopped as he quickly thought about it, jumping up from his seat, spilling all the popcorn from the bowl he had in his lap onto the floor in his haste to get into his room to finish his homework.
You looked at Scott, as he slowly looked over his shoulder at you before the two of you couldn’t control your laughter. At the sound of Stiles’ voice yelling at the two of you to shut up caused your laughter to come out even harder, the spazz smiling to himself at hearing the one sound he loved more than anything; your laugh.
~~~
Papers were all over the table, your third cup of coffee almost empty, empty take out containers where papers weren’t, a loud sigh coming from one of you every few minutes. Finals were in a few days, so the three of you were studying your asses off, needing to pass these finals before the Spring semester.
You went to take another sip of your coffee before you realized the cup was empty. Groaning, you got up from the table, looking at your brother and best friend. “You guys good on coffee or do you need more?”
At the same time, Scott and Stiles looked into their cups, Scott holding his up. “I’ll take another cup.”
Reaching for his cup, you took it from his hand, looking over at Stiles, who was already making to stand. He looked at you and nodded with his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Your hands would be full. Come on.”
You watched his back as he retreated the few feet to the kitchen, your feet moving when he looked back at you, the coffee pot in hand. Once you were by his side, you looked at the pot, grimacing, “I need to make more.”
“I got it,” he said, already moving to pour the rest of the coffee into your cup.
You couldn’t help but look at his profile as he moved, the tension in your body almost becoming apparent. A throat clearing had you looking at Scott, his lip up in disgust the smallest bit. What you didn’t notice was Stiles turning his head over his shoulder to look at his best friend before putting his eyes back down on you, letting the moment take over as he leaned in a little closer.
Your mouth dropped open, forgetting for a moment Scott was sitting in the next room. He shook his head, looking back down at his papers, going back to studying. Sighing to yourself, you looked back at Stiles, seeing his eyes already on you. But what shocked you about looking back at him was the fact that he was so close to you, your lips almost brushed together.
Taking a shaky breath, you closed your eyes, not wanting this to be the moment you finally kissed Stiles. You watched each other for a moment, eyes dancing between the others eyes and lips before you closed your eyes, readying yourself.
Stiles was more than ready to be with you, but because of Scott, he didn’t want to do that to his best friend by dating his sister. It didn’t matter that Scott basically gave him the okay to date you. Stiles felt that he would be, almost betraying Scott by being with you.
The moment you were waiting for never came, however, as Stiles had moved back to his seat, going back to studying. As he sat down, he mentally beat himself up about not kissing you. You cleared your throat, turning to walk to your room, where you pressed your back to your door and slid to the floor, trying to control your breathing.
~~~
“This is the stupidest movie I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s not stupid.”
“Yes, it is.”
“How?”
Stiles looked at you as you challenged him, your brows raised. He sighed and said, “It’s about a ship sinking!”
“It’s more than just about the ship,” you said. “Titanic is a classic! It’s a love story while also being about the sinking of the ship.”
“I know what it’s about,” Stiles deadpanned. “You’ve made me watch it a million times. I don’t want to watch a movie about a sinking ship. I’d rather watch–”
“I’m not watching Star Wars,” you interrupted.
“Star Wars is a classic!” he exclaimed. “More of a classic than Titanic.”
Looking from him back to the television, you raised a brow and said defiantly, “We’re finishing this movie.”
“No.”
“Then go in your room and watch your stupid movie while I watch mine.”
“So, you admit that this movie is stupid.”
“No! I’m admitting anything because it’s not.”
“But you just said–”
“I was talking about Star Wars.”
Smirking, Stiles said, “Yeah, sure,” before lightly shoving you. “I’m just messing with you.”
Shoving his hand from your shoulder, you mumbled to yourself, eyes back on the television in front of you. A few moments later, you jumped a little to your left, swatting Stiles’ hand away. “Stiles, quit.” Another light poke to your side as you tried not to smile. “Stiles, please.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re worse than Scott,” you said, screaming at the end when Stiles full on started a tickle attack on your sides. “Please!! Stop!! Stiles!!”
The smile on his face grew from ear to ear, Stiles loving the way you laughed when you were amused, especially in this moment. Since the two of you were sitting up against the back of the couch, he had pulled you into him, his fingers never stopping their attack.
“Stiles, please stop, it hurts!!” you said, your laughter dying out.
He made quick to stop his attack on your sides, your head laying on his shoulder. You closed your eyes, sighing before you opened your eyes again, tilting your head back to look at him, the angle giving you sight of his chin.
Stiles tilted his head down, causing you to laugh a little. “What?” he asked.
Reaching up, you poked under his chin. “That gave you a double chin.”
He gently grabbed your hand, bringing the palm of your hand to his lips, the movement causing your breath to hitch. Locking eyes with you again, Stiles knew that he wanted this moment to be the one he kissed you.
The moment, however, was interrupted by the deadbolt on the door unlocking, Scott walking through not a moment later.
You glared at your brother, sending a death stare as you stood up. “You’re a fucking moment ruiner, you know that!” You walked to your room, slamming your door shut, falling face first onto your mattress, your muffled groans reaching Scott’s ears as he stood in the living room with Stiles still sitting on the couch, hands on his face.
“What happened?” Scott asked, confused.
Sighing loudly, Stiles wiped his hands down his face, resting his hands on his thighs. “I think we were about to kiss and then you walked in.”
“Really?” Scott’s tone was almost one of… incredulity. “You were really about to kiss her?”
With an exasperated sigh, Stiles stood to look at his best friend. “Yes, Scott. I was. A perfect moment ruined.”
“Don’t let me ruin it,” Scott said, calmly. He knew exactly what was going on with the two of you. “Just snatch her up before someone else does.”
~~~
Finals were finally done, and you couldn’t be more than happy at that fact. You were laying on your couch, almost asleep when a knock was heard on the apartment door. Groaning, you got up to answer it, opening the door to see none-other than Malia standing on the other side, a smile on her face.
“Hey,” she said, trying to look in your apartment. “Is Stiles here?”
“No, he’s out celebrating with Scott,” you replied. “Why?”
The look she gave you almost stunned you. She was looking at you like you should’ve known why she was there. “Because we have a date? He was supposed to come pick me up, but called me and said to wait here for him.”
“Yeah, he’s not here, sorry. Plus you guys broke up, sorry, bye!” you rushed out, closing the door in her face. Leaning against the door, you heard her sigh and walk away, muttering something about you being a bitch or something.
You didn’t care as you laid back down on the couch, the door opening about an hour later, waking you from your sleep, not realizing you actually fell asleep.
The sound of Stiles’ laugh had you tilting your head to the side, trying to see who or what he was laughing at. Scott followed in behind him, saying something completely stupid that Stiles laughed even harder at.
“What are you two girls laughing about?” you asked, moving your arms behind you to rest on your elbows. You looked right at Stiles, lifting your eyebrow in what you hoped was a seductive way.
Watching as he visibly gulped, you smiled to yourself, bringing a leg up to bend at your knee, moving it side to side. “What’s wrong, Stiles? Cat got your tongue?”
“You’re gonna wish my tongue catches something,” he retorted.
That stopped all movement coming from you, a shocked expression on your face as you sat up to cross your legs. Deciding to play his little game, you rested your elbows on your knees, resting your chin on your laced fingers. “And what would your tongue catch?”
“Your c–”
“Let’s end that conversation!” Scott exclaimed. “I need to hear that information.”
Snickering, you looked at your twin, asking, “What’s wrong, Scott? Don’t wanna hear about your best friend thinking sexually about your sister?”
Scott put a hand to his forehead, not believing this line of questioning was happening as he groaned.
“Because Stiles, here, has mas-”
“Let’s not,” Stiles rushed, a little louder than normal. “I agree with Scott. Let’s not talk about this.” He quickly walked past the couch you were occupying, a chuckle from you as he did. Stiles closed his bedroom door, pressing his back to it, his head thudding on the wood behind him. He didn’t want that secret about him getting off to the thought of you getting out there for Scott to know.
What Stiles didn’t know was that you got off to the thought of him. You didn’t know him nor Scott to know it was an almost every night thing. The same being the case for Stiles. You decided to form a plan, a devilish smile crossing your face as you stood up on the couch to climb over it.
Scott noticed the look on your face, following behind you as you made your way to your room. “Sis, what are you doing? I know that look.”
“Forming a plan,” you stated simply. Going to your dresser, you pulled the drawers out, looking for an outfit with a seductive vibe to it. Once you found it, you turned your back to Scott, smiling to yourself before moving into your closet to retrieve your silk robe.
“What kind of a plan?” Scott raised an eyebrow, curious as to what you were up to. As he silently took a deep breath, he got his answer in the form of your chemosignals. “Gross.”
Poking your head out of your closet, your hair fell over your shoulder. “What gross?”
Scott turned around, hands up in surrender by his head as he walked towards your bedroom door. “I’m going to Allison’s. I don’t want to be here when you’re screaming Stiles’ name.”
You gawked at him, not sure what to do with that information. After a moment of standing there with your mouth open, you looked back into your closet, shrugging your shoulders. Putting on the lingerie, you weren’t sure if you felt comfortable in it, but you shrugged, putting the robe on before walking out of your room.
Walking to Stiles’ room, you knocked on the door, the spazz stopping all movement from the other side of the door before he answered, “Yeah?”
“Hey, Stiles, I was thinking of watching a movie,” you said. “Wanna watch with me?”
He got up from his bed, almost tripping on his shoes as he replied, “Yeah, sure. What movie?”
“42. That movie about Jackie Robinson?”
“Y-yeah, I’ll watch it. Get everything ready? I’ll be out in about five minutes.”
“Perfect.” You smiled to yourself, walking into the living room to look for the DVD, knowing damn well Stiles purchased it the moment it was released on disc. Once you found it, you turned on the TV and the DVD player, putting the disc in the player.
After the DVD’s menu came up, you turned on your heel and walked to the kitchen, getting all of yours and Stiles’ favorite snacks and drinks. Bringing them back to the living room to set them on the table, you had a smile on your face, hopeful that this plan of yours would work. You sat on the couch, bringing a blanket to your lap, careful to cover your legs and bringing it up to your chest, getting all warm and cozy.
The menu played for about four or five rounds before you started to get a little tired. Sighing, you laid your head back on the couch, your eyes closing of their own accord. Tapping on your forehead had you slowly opening your eyes, seeing Stiles above you.
“Hey, sorry,” he whispered. “It took longer than I thought.”
You sighed angrily, removing the blanket from your body before you got up from the couch, revealing your robe to Stiles.
He took a sharp intake of breath at the lingerie that had poked through a little when you started to walk back to your room. With a confused look on his face, Stiles watched you walk, asking, “Hey, wait. Aren’t we gonna watch the movie?”
“Watch it by yourself,” you answered, a tad aggressively. You went to slam your bedroom door shut, but Stiles stopped it.
“What the hell is the matter? Why are you angry?”
You huffed a laugh, resting your hands on the footboard of your bed. “This was such a fucking dumb idea.” Looking at him, your eyes burned with disappointment and anger. “I dress up in this stupid ass lingerie to try and make you all - I don’t know - hot and bothered, but instead I kind of get stood up by my best friend. The very best friend standing here, gawking at me. The very best friend I have the stupidest crush on.”
Stiles smirked a little, walking into your room and shutting the door. “You have a crush on me?”
Scoffing, you stood up straighter, turning your body to face him as you said, “You’re fucking dumb. I’m in love with you, but you’re too fucking blind to see it. I mean, going to Lydia’s three times a week when I’m dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt? The fuck is that about?”
Hanging his head, Stiles sighed a deep sigh before looking at you, a flash of anger in his own eyes. “You think I go to Lydia’s? I don’t. I sit outside the apartment door or in the quad to think… and to also calm my fucking dick down.”
“So you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“You’re in love with me.”
“I have been for years. You’re just too blind to see it.”
“So now you’re calling me blind?”
“That’s–” Stiles took a deep breath, releasing it. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying, Stiles?”
He didn’t say anything; he just looked at you and acted on instinct. Reaching for your cheeks, he cupped them and brought your lips to his.
You knew exactly what he was doing before he knew. When you felt his lips on yours, you reacted quickly, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Teeth and tongues clashing and fighting for dominance before you felt yourself being lifted off the floor, your back meeting the mattress.
“Since you’re half naked anyway, I won’t have much to take off,” Stiles said, removing his own flannel and tshirt. “Take the robe off.”
You sat up, doing as you were told, taking the robe off. Staring at Stiles, you couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit insecure until he walked closer to you, gently cupping your cheek with a small family on his face. “What are you smiling at, Stiles?” you whispered.
“You,” he simply stated. He crawled on the bed, hovering over you as you gently laid back on the mattress. With a soft whisper only you could hear, he said, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment.”
Smiling, you rested your hands gently on the sides of his head, basically cupping by his ears. “Same here. Now, are you gonna fuck me or just hover over me?”
Stiles wasted no second or minute as he placed his lips on yours. Both of you moaned as your tongues touched, the teenage boy above you fighting for dominance. As the two of you made out like horny high schoolers, you undressed each other, your hands running down Stiles’ lean abs.
“Damn,” you breathed. “I knew you played lacrosse, but I didn’t think you’d get abs from it.”
“Blame it on Finstock,” Stiles chuckled.
“Oh, I won’t blame him. I’ll go back to Beacon Hills and thank him.”
Stiles laughed harder at that, pressing his lips back on yours. Once he got a look at your naked form, the fire in his eyes was evident; he wanted this, he wanted you. “God, you’re stunning.”
You smiled a little at his praise of you, keeping that same smile on your face as you watched him kiss his way down your stomach, getting onto his knees at the edge of the bed and pulling you closer. “Stiles,” you whispered. “Do something.”
It didn’t take the spazz not a moment later to put his mouth on your hot and wet core, your head pressing into the mattress more as he lapped, licked and kissed at your cunt. Moans of his name were spilling out of your mouth like a prayer, one of your hands cupping one of your breasts while the other went to Stiles’ hair, keeping him in place.
Stiles loved the reaction he was getting from you, a smile on his face as he felt your hips bucking, your pussy gliding along his tongue as you started to chase your high. When he inserted two fingers into your core, he moaned at the warmth he felt, wanting to feel it with his cock instead.
“Mmmm,” you moaned, eyes closed. “M’so close.”
Taking his mouth off your pussy, Stiles’ eyes stayed locked on his fingers pumping in and out of you. “Come on, baby. Cum for me. Let go.” Once he heard your loud moan, he put his mouth back on you as you came, feeling your cunt squeeze his fingers. He replaced his fingers with tongue, lapping all that you were giving him.
When your high came down, you had to almost push Stiles off of your core as it was becoming a little oversensitive. “Okayokayokay.” You breathed, bringing your hands to your hair as Stiles kissed his way back up your stomach and the valley of your breasts.
“You did so good,” Stiles whispered, kissing your cheek. “I’m also very hard for you right now.”
You chuckled, pressing your lips on his, feeling his hardened erection on your sensitive core. Gasping, you screwed your eyes shut, a small and quiet whimper coming from your throat.
“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, quietly.
“Hm,” you hummed. “A little sensitive. Your tip is pressing at my entrance.”
Stiles looked down, seeing that his tip was, indeed, pressing at your entrance. He looked back up at you, smoothing your hair down next to your temple. “Can you give me one more?”
Nodding, you sighed. “I could give you a hundred more if you asked.”
“Shshshshit,” he muttered, sitting back on his knees. “W-were are your condoms?”
“Scott has some in the bathroom, top right drawer,” you answered, confused. You brought yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with furrowed brows. “You don’t have any?”
He thought about it for a moment, giving off that I have an idea look he sported a lot in high school before closed his eyes and sighed, getting off the bed and going to your door. Poking his head out after he opened the door, he checked to make sure the coast was clear before booking it to his room, a laugh sounding from your throat as you laid back on the bed.
When he returned, you lifted your head to look at him, a smile on your face as he had walked back in mid-laugh. “What’s so funny?”
You shoot your head, saying, “Nothing,” with a smile on your face, watching as he rolled the rubbed onto his cock.
“Ready?” he asked, gently guiding the head of his cock through your still wet folds to gather your arousal on him. When he looked back at you while you were nodding, he gently pushed himself in, a groan coming from the both of you. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”
“Stilessssssss,” you moaned.
As he pulled back a little, you shivered, your slightly sensitive core still recovering. The shiver was also from pleasure, loving the way he was stretching you out.
“You’re so fucking big,” you groaned, looking into his eyes. “I love the way you feel inside me. I never want you to leave.”
“I don’t want to leave your pussy, either,” he whispered, pushing back at a slow pace. He kept this pace up, not wanting to really overstimulate you, but your hands roaming down his back told him otherwise.
“Faster,” you whispered.
“But you’re–”
“I don’t care. I need to feel you. All of you. Gimme everything you’ve got.”
The two of you stared into each other's eyes, looking for any signs of hesitation. When Stiles didn’t see any in your eyes, he nodded his head and quickened his pace, moans spilling out of you as he fucked you into almost oblivion.
He pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach, whispering for you to get onto your hands and knees. Once you were in position, he pushed his cock back inside of you, a happy sigh from you as your head dipped down.
More and more moans were spilling from the two of you; you being the loudest. Once Stiles felt his orgasm coming on, he stopped his thrusts, putting his hands on your stomach to pull your back to his chest.
You rested your head on his shoulder, turning your head so that your nose could touch his neck as his thrusts started again, one of his hands gliding down your stomach to your clit, where he started to draw circles.
“F-f-f-f-f-f-fuck!” you all but screamed. “Don’t stop. I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, his lips meeting your forehead. “Cum again for me.”
Just as both of your orgasms hit at the same time, Stiles held onto you so you wouldn’t collapse onto the bed. He was still thrusting into you, your hand going over his, a sign he’d learned for him to not stop what he was doing.
You felt as if you were going to cum again, and you voiced as such. Just as Stiles pulled out from you, clear liquid spilled from your core, a scream coming from your throat that had Stiles spilling another load into his condom.
He helped you lay down on the bed as your body shivered. “Holy shit. You squirted.”
“I didn’t know I could do that,” you chuckled.
Stiles returned the laugh, bending to press his lips against yours. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up and then I’ll come back and help you, okay?”
You felt like you couldn’t say a word, so you nodded, sighing when his lips quickly pressed to yours.
Stiles walked out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall. He grabbed a baby wipe you had for your monthly’s, wiping himself off after he removed the condom. After he wrapped the baby wipe around the condom, he threw it into the trash, grabbing a washcloth from the drawer to wet with some warm water.
He left the cloth on the bathroom counter while we went to get a shirt, some boxers and pajama pants on. Once he was dressed, he grabbed the washcloth from the bathroom and went back into your room, where he noticed your sleeping form.
Gently cleaning your core, he didn’t want to wake you, although you stirred at the feeling of something rubbing against you again.
“No more orgasms,” you whined. “I can’t take any more.”
Stiles chuckled, setting the folded washcloth on your dresser as he went into your underwear drawer to retrieve a pair. “Don’t worry. You’re gonna have another one tonight.” Next, he went into your pajama drawer, grabbing out a pair of shorts before walking back to you.
He helped get you dressed, giving you the shirt he was wearing before your sexcapades. The two of you laid in your bed under the covers, Stiles on his back with you cuddled into his side.
“That was amazing,” you whispered. “I’ve never had sex that great before.”
Stiles lightly chuckled, kissing your hairline. “There’s more where that came from, lover.”
It was your turn to chuckle, resting your hand on his chest. “I like it when you call me that.”
“Call you what?”
You tilted your head back to look at him, smiling as you said, “Lover.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N 2: hi, friends! this one was my first time adding praise & squirting into a smut piece! should i do it more? let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.
Additional Notes: yes, a dvd player is mentioned because i'm a thirty year old millennial who's fucking nostalgic. okay? lol
~~~
Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak
If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.
Italics wouldn’t let me tag!
~~~
*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.
All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Jeff Davis.
*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Posted on October 22, 2023
#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles x reader#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan x reader#stiles stilinski smut#dylan o'brien smut#harringtonstilinski
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Stiles Stilinski Masterlist - OBRIENGF
NSFW marked with *** | Other masterlists HERE
Fic Recs for Stiles Stilinski ♡
BABBLES
Fics :
EMPATHEIA - TW REWRITE (MASTERLIST)
TWENTY-FOUR (MASTERLIST)
SUNLIT LOVERS (MASTERLIST) discontinued
PARENTAL GUIDANCE
WINGMAN
REVELATIONS ***
FREAKY FRIDAY
A LITTLE OVERDUE
SWEET LIPS XMAS21
DINNER & A SHOW
SUDS & SPONGES
ONE, AND ONLY VALENTINES23
FORBIDDEN CLOTH XMAS23
JUBILEE BDAY24
Blurbs :
THE AFTERMATH
RAIN (one)
RAIN (two)
CHECK
BEDSIDE
CLOSE / CONFESS
MAKING A CHOICE
STAY WITH ME
“DANCE WITH ME?”
"I MISS YOU. I MISS YOU SO MUCH IT HURTS."
"DID I BREAK YOUR HEART?"
"WE AREN'T FRIENDS, FRIENDS DON'T DO THIS KINDA THING."
"ACTUALLY, I THINK WE HAVE TO GO AGAIN..." ***
"YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT? THAT ASSHOLE DID NOT ASK YOU OUT!"
SAFEGUARD
DO YOU WANT ME TO HELP? (MICRO BLURB)
DO I KNOW YOU? (MICRO BLURB)
HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT (MICRO BLURB)
Headcanons :
INJURY
SLEEPING
JEALOUSY
BREAKUP
WHEN YOU AND STILES WATCH PORN… ***
WHEN STILES LIVES OUT HIS DREAM....
#dylan o'brien#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski fic#stiles stilinski imagine#dylan o'brien x reader#teen wolf#stiles stilinski masterlist#stiles stilinski series#teen wolf x reader#stiles stilinski x you#obriengf masterlist
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Reunion | dob
Word Count: 4.6k
Rating: M
Summary: Doesn't matter how long you've waited for it; it's always worth it. | Also on Ao3!
Warnings: (the usual, minors dni etc) praise, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex (+creampie), marking??, pretty boy is always in charge <3, overstimulation, brief somnophilia + masturbation mentions, they're so in love, no use of y/n as always
A/N: this is my belated x(xx)mas gift to u. mwah
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself, not really.
It was always like this. Maybe it would’ve worked if your back was flat against your mattress, in solitude at eleven at night. You always fell asleep, so content, within minutes. But succumbing to your desires, utilizing your free will to make yourself tremble and squirm during the daylight hours of three in the afternoon while he’s out there, so sexy and so unaware… it was over as soon as you turned the faucet to hot.
There was nothing like cumming in the shower; maybe it was the adrenaline of holding yourself upright at the risk of shattering the glass door or maybe it was the rough pulse setting of your showerhead. Who knows.
There couldn’t have been a better–more scorching–late spring afternoon after days of uncharacteristic gloom. Your late-morning was spent lounging by the pool, grazing on cubed pineapple and hiding greedy looks at Dylan’s body behind your sunglasses. It’d been nearly a week since you’d last had him; he was fresh off a red-eye from his sibling’s birthday celebrations on the east coast. The early flight, coupled with Tommy’s insistence on taking him to a show at a bar in the East Village last night, meant he was schlubbing around all day, falling in and out of a day-long nap. You could admit it was cute when he dozed off on the lounge chair, cap brim low on his face and chin on his chest, but it reached a breaking point when you were sprawled on the couch together, his large hand cupping your breast and a soft snore in your ear. His grip was loose, allowing you to slide easily from his arms, slink to your room, and grab your bathrobe.
Your skin felt warm when you stepped onto the cool tile, still deciding between waiting it out and dealing with the thud in your cunt. You stood beneath the stream, feeling the hot water funnel into the main line as the shower temperature quickly rose from frigid to steaming. You were focused at first, fingers diligently massaging shampoo into your scalp, but they roamed a little further while you scrubbed your torso. With a sigh, you reached for the chrome showerhead and twisted to change the water pressure. It’s quick, you thought. He’d likely still be asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so gorgeous but so unavailable.
And it was quick, but it also left your knees rattling and head spinning from the thick, waterlogged air. Tiny shockwaves are still traveling up your body when you step out onto the plush bath mat, intensifying as the cold bathroom air rushes past your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. A tiny whine escapes your lips as you shimmy into your fleece bathrobe and wrap a towel around your head. Looking at yourself in the mirror is a struggle of its own, a visible warmth spread across your face and a well-bitten bottom lip alerting you to the levels of your own arousal. You grunt when you step away, attempting to designate your urges to after dinner, and instead thinking about if you need to take anything out of the freezer to defrost.
“Hi,” Dylan’s soft greeting is a surprise when you step out of the bathroom into your shared bedroom. He’s lying on his side, head resting on his elongated arm and phone screen-down on the bed. His eyes look tired, but his silhouette glows in the light from the window. Dark green sweatpants hang low on his hips, exposing the elastic of his underwear.
“Hi.” You hang your hair towel up behind the bathroom door and begin to walk towards him. “Looking for me?”
“Mmhm.” You twirl a lock of his chestnut hair around your pointer finger, enjoying the length before he inevitably buzzes it all off. “S’boring out there, every episode of Curb is the same.”
“Yeah?” He shifts, sitting up to swing his legs over the side of the bed and face you. “You know what happened during the episodes you were asleep for?” Your hand is in his and he pulls it to rest on his cheek.
“Yeah.” He smiles up at you. “Larry David acts like an asshole, gets what he deserves, goofy end credits song, repeat.” You refrain from rolling your eyes as you settle into his lap, your knees on either side of his body.
“Hm. You’re right,” you mumble between pressing kisses into the scratchy skin of his cheek. One of his hands settles comfortably on your lower back. “That’s it? You came to find me because you were bored?”
“I missed you.” Dylan’s free hand travels up your thigh until he is forearm-deep beneath your robe. “Woke up an’ you were gone.” The water droplets on your skin provide no retaliation to his hot breath on your neck. Something about it makes you want to curve your spine to press your chest to his. Would he feel the rattle behind your breastbone? Could he feel the heat from between your legs, so deftly pressed against the lump in the front of his sweatpants? “Had a dream about you.”
You’re certain now you’re both on the same page, but you pull back and narrow your eyes at him anyway. “Just now?” He narrows his eyes right back at you, a playful smile teasing the corners of his lips. His eyes are a decadent shade of brown as they gaze sleepily into yours.
“Maybe it’s been recurrent.” He shrugs as if he has no clue what you’re talking about, but you catch a glint of mischief in his look. His hands are moving now, one groping your outer thigh and the other fiddling with the fabric rope keeping your bathrobe tied shut.
You almost fall into him at that moment. The flood between your legs only feels more and more apparent since you’d hooked the shower head to its mount and twisted the faucet tightly to the left. Instead of finding comfort against his mouth or alerting him to the wet spot you’re leaving in his lap, you blurt out, “You wanna tell me about it?”
“Would rather show you.” His lips lock onto yours, arms pressing your body into his, molding yourself around him. He’s diligent and in control, mouth firm and domineering against yours. His tongue is soft and wetter than yours, with access to it allowing you to taste a hint of sweetness and tobacco. His hands roam dutifully across the hems of your garment, pushing the fabric off your shoulder and loosening the belt around your waist. Dylan’s back falls to the bed, tugging you down with him. Your robe is splayed open now, caught on your shoulders and thighs. His mouth disconnects from yours to watch you, properly feel you softly grinding yourself against him. It’s almost enough to make you self conscious, but his gaze is always so soft when you’re at your most vulnerable. He doesn’t haphazardly grasp at your body as you lean over him; his hands are deliberately placed on your upper thighs, ghosting feather-light circles into your skin. The sensation makes you slightly ticklish, immediately sending electricity up your spine and goosebumps rippling across your skin. How he knew that would get your nipples pointed and directly in front of his face, you’d never know. You’re not being watched by Dylan, you’re being seen. “You like using me, huh angel?” It’s posed as a question, but you don’t need to answer. You just press your hands to his stomach, your center to the firm bulge in his pants. “Mine,” he says quietly to himself, greedily holding you by your hips and guiding your movements. It’s not enough, but you can feel a pool slowly form in your lower stomach as he works your cunt against his increasingly hard cock. His hips press harder into yours as he moves, fucking into you. You surrender control over your core to him entirely, letting him scrape his clothed cock into your swollen center, twitching when he’d move just right. Your nails leave crescent shaped marks as you hold tightly to his sides. You’re trembling, soft sighs escaping your lips with each swipe of his hips. “Is this really how you wanna cum, sweetheart? Like you’re a teenager again, can’t control yourself?” The condescension dripping from his tongue is almost enough to send you over the edge right then and there. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” You whimper pitifully as he halts your movements and pushes you onto your back.
“Thought you’d take it as a compliment if I came on your pants.” Your breathing is shallow, eyes watching the way he leans over you, caging you onto the bed with his body.
“Mm.” Dylan’s thinking about it, even if he’s pretending to be preoccupied with touching you. The shift in his eye contact and slight bob in his throat is what gives him away. “Yeah… I have some other ideas, though.” He absentmindedly traces up your stomach, under your breasts, to your collarbone. “My dream, remember?” His tired eyes shine as they look down at you. He is deliberate in his touches, your skin sensitive and lower abdomen incredibly keyed-up.
“I’ve been so good,” you pant, letting your hands roam across the firmness of his chest to his shoulders, then his triceps. “Missed you.”
“I believe it,” he says off-handedly, too busy determining whether to attack your collarbone with his tongue or his teeth. “Thank you for picking me up from the airport this morning.” The sentence comes out muffled; he chose teeth.
“You’re so welcome,” you sigh. “But that’s not what I meant.” You hook your right knee around his thigh and he holds it in place. “You’ve been so busy snoozin’... I’m feeling a little neglected.” He licks his lips as he stares down at you. You’re looking up at him from beneath your lashes, seemingly too bashful for what stumbles from your mouth next. “Maybe it’s unfair, but I was hoping you’d fuck me when we got home this morning.” His eyes, calculating and a remarkably burnt umber color, remain steady as they bore into yours. He’s always so much better at this than you are. “Maybe in front of the mirror by the entryway.” You swallow. Your voice is small, mind distant with nothing but his body keeping you grounded in reality. “Or against the front door.” You guide his hand down your stomach, over your stubbly pubic mound to the dampness that has been accumulating for what feels like hours. It probably has been hours. His eyebrows shoot up. It was only seven in the morning when you’d gotten back, the golden warmth of sunrise peeking through the ornate crystal gaps in your wooden front door. Dylan looked beautiful in the light, especially with a duffel over his shoulder and raccoon circles around his eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart.” You feel yourself falling into your favorite dynamic as your senses become overloaded with him. Dylan is bigger than you’d think from afar, experiencing no issue trapping you between his arms and beneath his body; his gentle breathing, smelling faintly of spearmint and American Spirits, fans over your skin. He’s looking at you like you’re dinner, but something in his eyes tells you he’s going to savor it. “You’ve been so patient, haven’t you?” The hand you placed over your cunt is lazily spreading your pleasure between your folds, brushing past your clit and occasionally circling your trembling hole at excruciating intervals. His other hand travels everywhere, brushing wet hair from your face to ghosting around your neck and gently caressing your breasts. “All day, bet you were soaked for me the whole time, my good girl.” Your eyes roll back and you feel your chest cave in with your breath. “You could’ve said something, y’know.” It comes out almost like a purr and electricity zips up your spine.
“If you hadn’t passed out every fifteen minutes,” you bite. He pinches your nipple sharply between his pointer finger and thumb in response to your attitude, resulting in a yelp escaping your throat. Luckily, it’s the only punishment you get.
“Baby, you know what you want is always alright with me.” You swallow as you watch him intently, your eyes flickering between his eyes and lips, unsure of his next move. “You know how incredible it would’ve been,” he pauses his movements between your legs and shifts his arms to the sides of your head before continuing, “seeing you needing me, in my sleep, taking me like I know you can… to wake up to you messy, doe-eyed, and gagging all over me?” Your face is hot, you’re sweating, and you’re squirming under his firm gaze. “You’d like that too, huh? Be honest, my love. You trust me, don’t you?” His voice is satiny to your ears. Your vision is blurred by pure adrenaline and adoration. The dryness in your mouth prevents speech, but you nod weakly, ready to succumb to whatever he wants to do. “Say it.” His fingers press into your cheeks and puff your lips forward. “You’ll get anything you want as long as you keep talking, keep telling me how much you want it.” His hand rests gently on your mound, feeling like a promise.
“Yes.” It’s hoarse, but it’s there. “Yes, please.”
“I want to hear you, okay? I know you love it, angel, but I need to hear how good I can make my pretty girl feel.” His voice falls to a whisper. “You don’t know how hard it is to be away from you.” Dylan is always like this after returning from a trip, thoughts jumbled from lustfully depraved and tenderly sweet, fighting urges that exist somewhere in between. “No one is like you…” He loses himself in the kisses he’s pressing to your shoulder, your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. “No one can make me feel the way you do.” His hands move sporadically across your torso, grasping at your skin haphazardly. “Not in this lifetime, anyway.”
You whine at his touch and words, head spinning but wholly devoted to him. “I love you.” It comes out quietly, a pledge kept solely between you two. A layer of static feels like it is embedded into the top layer of your skin. His fingers are gentle and precise; his pointer and middle finger nestle themselves comfortably around your clit, squeezing occasionally as he moves his fingers vertically. There’s no chance you’ll last under these conditions and there’s no way he doesn’t know it. You’re not in control of your movements against his fingers; you’d be embarrassed by the arhythmic pace of your hips, but you’re too honed in to his touch to care. You’re not even sure what you’re doing, but you know his eyes are illuminated by the light from the window and the look he’s giving you is all-consuming. You also know it feels good. “Dylan,” you whisper. You move your hands from his neck to his shoulder and bicep; he may like being scratched and squeezed, but it doesn't mean he wants a punctured jugular. “I don’t think–” A soft gasp bubbles up your throat. The sheer consistent repetitive movement of his fingers are increasingly enough.
“It’s okay… it’s okay.” Dylan’s mouth covers yours, almost overwhelmingly. His breath is hot as it mingles with yours, your tongue desperately needy in his mouth. The knee hooked around his thigh shifts to rest on his lower back. Your hand slides from his bicep, down the front of his chest rather clumsily until it reaches the elastic of his sweatpants. A frustrated rumble emanates from your chest. You’re surprised he’s had the self control to keep them on this long, especially given the tent he was pitching. Your hand breaches the drawstring, fingers dipping past the elastic of his underwear. “You wan’ me to feel you, sweetheart?” He nips at your bottom lip, already so raw you taste a metallic warmth slowly dripping into your mouth as soon as his teeth make contact. Something about the action and the sharp, but sweet flavor on your tongue feels carnal, your mind sinking to its most feral form. Your fingers dip entirely into his tight boxers, thumb spreading the stickiness from his slit to the bottom of his head. His hips jerk slightly to your touch and your second hand slinks to palm the hot girth in his pants. “Always so considerate, my girl’s always thinking of me.” You nod, out of breath and drunk on the feeling of his middle finger being smoothly inserted into your slick. When he’s successfully knuckle deep, he pulls out and reinserts, adding his pointer finger. You can’t control the sounds that leak from your mouth when he licks at the droplets of blood that have re-emerged from the cracks in your lips. “It’s okay, baby, don’t worry. Let go for me.” He taps his thumb on your bud and you grip tightly to his fingers. You feel ragged, tired from both incessantly thinking about being your boyfriend’s little fuck doll and actually following through on your shared desire. The pool in your lower stomach has only been expanding, tendrils of pleasure seeping up your back, through your limbs. There’s no way to hold on, not with his voice in your ear and his fingers in your cunt. “Promise next time it’ll be around my cock, but I need you to come now.” With a final flick at your clit, at his instruction, the dam breaks. Your hips flick forward, back arching to press your stomach firmly into him. The trembling in your thighs feels like it rocks through your whole body. His fingers fuck you through it, the squelching noises almost embarrassingly sinful. You’re leaking as Dylan pulls his fingers out from your center, coated in your own creaminess. He presses them into your mouth, watching intently as you circle them with your tongue. He seems satisfied by your method, pulling the fingers out and replacing them with a quick peck. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, brushing against his with each breath. “My girl,” he breathes. “My girl, my good girl.” His thumb gently caresses the upper part of your cheek.. “I love you. You’re gonna give it to me again, sweetheart.”
“Off,” you mumble as your hands shakily tug at his underwear. He assists, shooing your hands away to swiftly remove himself of his garments. You use the shift in his weight and attention to your advantage, pushing Dylan onto his back. He’s gorgeous–looking angelically warm in the afternoon light and body hair deliciously untrimmed. You swallow the saliva that floods your mouth as your vision hones in on the twitching, sticky cock resting on his stomach. It’s pure instinct, the way you lean over his lower half, tongue readily lubricating his tip. You pump your spit down his shaft until you’re able to get the first four inches into your mouth.
“I don’t think this was part of my dream, pretty girl.” His verbal attempt at protest is weak while his hand is firmly in your still-damp hair, steadying your head to take him further. In response, you reshift your tongue’s focus to his head, while your saliva-coated hands tug at the base of his cock and balls.
“It’s not a dream of yours to get head from me?” You look up at him for only a few seconds, caught in his lidded yet bemused gaze, before redirecting your attention back to your favorite plaything.
“Definitely not what I meant. You’re…” He trails off and pulls your head up by your hair. His hand moves to cup your jaw, his thumb wiping spit off your chin. “Come here. Would rather finish inside of you.” There’s nothing he can say that you won’t agree to. Especially not the most fulfilling way of feeling his. You clamber up his torso and he sits up to meet you in the middle. You unceremoniously fist his dick, swiping his head through your folds and beginning to press it into your core. From your perspective, playtime is over; no need to drag it out further when it’s already been a week without each other. “Eht–! Tsk.” His hand is on your throat, lifting you slightly as he pulls his head out from your quivering hole. It falls onto his stomach with a wet, heavy thud. “Let me.” Your jaw is slack, breath whizzing past your lips as your pussy clenches at the loss of his stretch. He lets go of your neck, moving his hand down to the hollow of your collarbone. Gently, he pushes your shoulder, body falling backwards onto the bed. He towers over you, perfectly silhouetted in front of the window. He pauses after placing his hands on your inner thighs and spreading you, one knee perpendicular to your crotch and the other pulled up by your shoulder. His fingers glide across the smooth skin of your inner thighs without purpose.
You jokingly rasp, “Won’t let me be in charge, but you haven’t decided what you’re gonna do to me?” He shifts his gaze from your little box, gaping and thumping for him, and narrows his eyes at you.
“Debating if I’m gonna break my promise or not.” Your heart nearly stops.
“What do you mean?” The fingers on your left hand tangle with his as you stare, wide eyed at his pretty, stubbly face. There’s no possibility he wouldn’t finish the job, not by now. He crouches further down the bed, head nearly resting on your lower stomach.
“You think you can handle three today for me, sweetheart?” Oh. His face is so close, you can feel his cool breathing against your warm dampness. You swallow the saliva that has built up in your mouth. “I’m sorry. I’ll get to it eventually, I swear.” His fingers spread you open and he leaves a soft kiss on your clit. “Jus’ missed you. Please?”
“Yes,” you breathe. He wastes no time pressing his flat tongue along the entirety of your slick. “Whatever you want.”
He groans in protest, the vibrations making you gasp. “Whatever you want.” Your hands find his hair, a little oily and just long enough that he looks ruggedly sexy when his beard is grown out. He’s going for the gold, suckling and circling your clit directly with his tongue, well aware that you’re sensitive enough to flood his mouth in under a minute if he plays his cards right. It’s an ego thing for him, knowing exactly how to take care of you. He’s certain no one could make you fall apart the way he can and today he would prove it to himself again. Prove it to you. “You’ve been so lonely without me, huh?” His tongue flicks slow down, but the pressure against your slit increases. “How many nights did you go to bed thinking the time difference fucked you over? Did you think of me when you couldn’t get me on the phone?”
“Dylan.” A wringing motion comes from deep inside of your gut, alerting you to your incoming orgasm.
“Answer me.” His stern voice cuts through the air and reverberates against your cunt. “I know your fingers aren’t enough. Were you left unsatisfied without me here to make you feel good?”
“Yes,” you pant. “I need you. All I can do is think about you when you’re gone. Please keep going, I need you.” He places his thumb right above your clit and pulls to stretch it upwards. With one final thick swipe of his tongue, he has your eyes rolling and fingers pulling his hair. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, pressing his face further into your flooding core as your hand holds him exactly where it feels best. He’s literally moaning into you as he laps you up, occasionally praising your receptiveness and taste. When you let go of his hair and begin to jerk your hips away from his face, he pulls away.
“Good?” He sits up and wipes his mouth on his forearm. You nod weakly, hands wobbly as you attempt to touch his knees. You’re pounding and leaking still, limbs incredibly heavy. With no hesitation, he presses his cock into your weary little hole, messy and slick from your cum and his spit. All of the air rushes from your lungs when he bottoms out.
“S-so sensitive, Dyl,” you whine.
“One more for me. You want it, don’t you?” You tighten around him as he pulls out and slowly presses back in. “Breathe. I’ll take you through it.” He reaches a comfortable pace, fast enough to override the overstimulated numbness but not painful in its force. Each deep thrust scrapes his pubic bone against your button, making you feel like you’re glitching in and out of existence.The pillow to your left disappears and, while still inside of you, Dylan lifts your hips to place it beneath you. You’re wide open for him now, hips tilted up as he changes his angle and begins to slap himself into you. “So good for me, taking me so well. You’re tired aren’t you, baby? Waitin’ on me all day…” Your noises only get louder as he pokes the fleshy roof of your cunt. “We’re almost done,” he coos. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you hiccup. You’re holding onto his forearms, still trembling. “Please, faster. I need it but it feels, I feel so–”
“Okay, honey. Just trust me, alright?” Dylan’s lips purse and a glob of saliva falls from his lips to where your bodies meet. He uses a finger to spread it around, then holds your hips by the curvature of your lower back. He grinds you against him with each full-length thrust, his spit messily coating your point of contact. He doesn’t even pull out anymore, just pushing himself as deeply as possible inside of you. Your ankles link together behind his back, pressing him so deep you can feel a tingly pressure next to your cervix. It almost hurts, the feeling shooting between your pussy and your brain. He spits again, harder this time, directly onto your clit. The pace of his hips combined with a quick pinch of his fingers sends you over the edge without warning. Your final orgasm rips a small cry from deep in your chest, whole body vibrating as you clench around the hot girth inside of you. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, your body feeling tight and loose at the same time, alive and dead. In purgatory, maybe. “Fuck.” He grunts and presses himself as deeply as he can, spurting hot stickiness as your orgasm milks him. “‘It’s like you were made for me, swear to God.” Your body relaxes as he claims you, filling you to satisfaction. He pumps into you a few times, coating your inner and outer cunt with his essence. His body covers yours completely, kissing you as he continues to lazily thrust. Your hands roam his back, arms, and hair as he continues to purposelessly move inside of you. It’s hard to take a deep breath; you’re still trying to address the trembling in your limbs and stretch in your core.
“Missed you.” It’s all you can muster. Your brain and body are composed of nothing but mush and Dylan.
“Missed you.” He’s smiling, eyes shining happily as they look at your weary face.
“Can we cuddle?” He nods and almost laughs, pressing a final kiss to your cheek. The air feels cold against you when he sits up and pulls out.
“Stay right there, gonna get a towel.” He squeezes your hand as he stands from the bed. You watch him saunter towards the bathroom and your eyes snap all the way open when he grabs the towel you’d been using for your hair.
“Dylan–!”
ermmm anyway so. ty for reading <3 as always, i'll love u forever if u like, rb, and/or lmk what u think :) (this is a sideblog so i cant respond to replies but i see them and ily)
#someone tell me how i feel ab this\#it's good i think but too fresh. might edit it some more in the coming days as i nitpick#dylan o'brien smut#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinksi smut#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien x reader
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Hey!!
Can I request “are you wearing my shirt?” with Dylan? Please and thank you!
Love you xx
You've waited a long time for this...
SO YES, I most certainly can! This sounds like fun :) MUCH LOVE!
Authors Note: Cliche? Maybe. But some lines are classic. Sue me. But like, don't? Litigation is expensive ;) p.s. smut... p.p.s. x female reader.
Prompt list HERE, but currently closed. This prompt is like a year old :/
Better on the Floor
Exhausted would be putting it mildly. You'd had a long week and the fact that it was only Wednesday wasn't helping. When you got home, you kicked out of your shoes, stretching out your aching toes as you stripped out of your stiflingly uncomfortable clothes, wandering your way slowly down the hall toward the bedroom. You peeled off your underwear and tossed them in the hamper before you padded into the bathroom to turn on the faucet of the bathtub. You watched the water pool in the palm of your hand, running out between the gaps of your fingers until it was just this side of scalding before you plugged the tub.
You stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam and then pulled open the drawer of the vanity to grab a bath bomb. You watched impatiently as the bath slowly filled before tossing the little ball of Epsom salt into the water, watching it fizz for a few moments before you followed after and slid into the water.
You could almost feel the muscles of your back sigh in relief as the warmth washed over them, drawing out at least some of the tension that had been locking them in place for days. You relaxed against the slope of the bath, letting your neck roll against the soft bath cushion for a few minutes. Enjoying the silence long enough to feel human again before you flicked the water from your hands and reached down to grab your phone from the bathmat.
Your discover playlist on Spotify was something you liked to try to fit in during the week because you always liked finding something new, and you hadn't had a chance yet this week. Now seemed as good a time as any. You tapped to play and then set your phone down on the edge of the bath. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed before the music faded out to an incoming notification, but when you swiped to view the text, your fingers were wrinkled and pale from the soak.
Dylan: So... I'm outside... and I'm an idiot
You smiled and shook your head before your smile turned to more of a smirk. You sat up a bit in the bath, shaking the water off your other hand so you could reply.
You: Alright. I'm intrigued.
Dyan: I might have...maybe...possibly left my keys in my trailer
You: How'd you get home?
Dylan: Fob wasn't on my key ring after I had it detailed
Dylan: Come let me in? I feel like a creep lurking out here
You: One sec
This was exactly like him, and it only made you love him more. You smiled as you stepped out of the bath and quickly toweled dry with one that was a bit smaller than you'd like if you were going to the door, so you snatched his bundled t-shirt off the counter and pulled it on before you rushed to the front door and unlocked it.
"Hey," he said with a smile when you opened the door.
"Hey," you replied, reaching out your hand to take his. You pulled him inside and into a tight hug, standing up on the tips of your toes and locking your arms together around his neck.
He gently kicked the door closed behind him and locked the deadbolt before he fully hugged you back, squeezing you tight around the waist and sighing into the damp hair at the nape of your neck.
"Oh no... you were in the bath, weren't you?" He pulled back and cupped your cheek in his palm. "Sorry, baby."
"'S'okay..." you hummed, nuzzling into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his palm on your cheek.
"You must have been so cozy in there..." He admired you for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before his gaze roamed down over your body.
You smiled, blushing at his attention.
"You look pretty comfy now though..." he said softly, pausing for a moment before he continued. "Is that...are you wearing my shirt?"
"Mhm..." you hummed, swaying slightly in his arms.
His eyes continued roaming, his hands following the trail they blazed until they were toying with the hem of it that was skirting across your upper thighs.
The skimming touch of his fingertips on your skin lit it with goosebumps. "It looks better on me..." you lied.
"Maybe..." he chuckled softly, pulling his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before his eyes met yours again, "but it'd look even better on the floor."
Did it matter that it was a line if ever you'd heard one? Not even slightly. It still sent a filthy little shiver down your spine. It didn't help that he'd leaned in and was peppering the side of your throat with wet little kisses as he walked you backward until you were pressed to the wall of the entryway.
He kissed you hard, his hands pinning your shoulders to the wall before they slid down your body and pulled his shirt up over it. He tossed it on the floor and then leaned in again, his nose brushing against yours before he whispered in your ear.
"See?" he breathed, his lips wet on your skin. His fingertips ghosted along your skin until one palm settled on your chest, the other on your ass.
You didn't see a damn thing except for little stars, but he'd more than made his point. You punched out an abrupt panted breath at the feeling of his fingers pinching your nipple before he sealed his lips to yours and swallowed down the little moan he pulled from you.
He kissed you until you were breathless, and in the brief reprieve he offered—mouthing along your jawline and driving you wild with the little grazes of his teeth—you managed to draw in a ragged enough lung full of air to keep from passing out.
You were pretty sure you'd collapse if he wasn't holding you in place. His touch, his admiration of your body, it had you forgetting just how awful you'd been feeling just an hour ago. Turns out? A hot bath and a fine-ass man putting his hands all over you are the curealls for just about everything. Who knew.
"Missed you..." he hummed against the thin skin that covered your collarbone.
Your head fell back against the wall.
"Couldn't stop thinking about you..." he said before he kissed his way to the dip at the base of your throat. "Took a shower on my break..."
You looked down at him, at his hand that was clasped to your upper arm, those beautiful veins painting across the tendons that flexed at his grip. His dark hair smelled of his shampoo.
"Had me so riled up I had hide in there and beat off just so I could be seen in fucking public."
It made you immeasurably happy that he was still infatuated enough with you that he was capable of expressing the laughably pathetic self-control of a hormone-addled teen. Your cheeks flushed and a little chuckle shook your chest.
"I deserve that..." He smiled against your skin, before he pulled back from you, his eyes locking with yours. "But I mean..." his gaze flicked down your body before his hand that had been nestled into the dip of your waist slipped down between the two of you until he was cupping the warmth of your core in his hand. "Can you blame me?"
"Fuck."
Now he was the one chuckling, but it quickly faded, his expression shifting from sly to sultry when his fingers slipped inside of you.
You groaned, your head falling forward to his clothed shoulder. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, stretching out the neck enough to expose some skin for you to latch onto with a nipping little bite.
He winced, sucking in a quick breath before he distracted you from your mission to mark your territory with a curl of his fingers inside you.
"Oh— Shit!" you gasped, panting into the cotton of his shirt until it was damp with your desperate breaths.
"That feel good?" he asked, even though the way you were squeezing his fingers had to be answer enough.
You nodded against his chest before he used the curled index finger on his free hand to lift your chin.
"Good," he said before he leaned in and kissed you.
His soft lips felt incredible, the flavour mint on his breath mixed with the faintest hint of tobacco, the combination had become something uniquely 'him' to you. It made your head spin. So, when his tongue begged to be let in to play with yours, you were happy to oblige.
You let him work you over until you could feel that little buzz building up inside you, that tingling hint that—with just a little more effort, one more precise little motion—he'd have you cumming before he was even out of his shoes, and that hardly seemed acceptable.
Breaking your kiss, you pulled away from his chasing lips, knowing you must look absolutely wrecked, and then you gripped him through his pants.
He tossed his head back and practically growled at your touch, his fingers stilling for only a moment before his eyes met yours once more with a fierce, fiery need. He shoved your hand aside and ripped open the zipper of his jeans and shoved your hand into his boxers.
"That's what you do to me..." he said, rutting into your palm, matching his pace with his fingers inside you as he kicked out of his sneakers.
You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off him, tossing it against the wall behind him. "Take those off..." you said, flicking your gaze down his body at his pants, flexing your wrist inside his boxers.
He stepped out of his jeans and socks and then pressed you against the wall once more, rubbing his thigh against the back of his arm to apply a bit more pressure to the hand that was driving you insane.
"You close?" he asked, nosing your jawline and breathing against your skin.
You nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of his throat before you spoke. "Yes..."
He pressed his thumb against your clit and you gasped his name into his hair when his lips fell to your chest.
Just when you thought he was going to shove you off the edge, you felt his fingers slip free from you before he slid down onto his knees in front of you. His warm brown eyes looking up at you, his soft lips parted just inches from your skin. This was criminal. This was attempted murder in the first degree.
When his tongue teased over you, the flutter of his eyelashes was almost enough to get you off. It looked like he was taking a hit of a designer drug...getting high off you.
He moaned against your skin and his hands pinned your hips to the wall, gripping the soft skin under them tight enough that it stung. That tiny hint of pain only made all of it better.
Your hands tangled into his hair, drawing him closer to you. You sighed out his name and half-formed expletives as his tongue teased you back to that precipice he'd had you teetering over minutes earlier.
He sealed his lips around the singing little bundle of nerves and flicked his tongue, his beard teasing the sensitive skin, before he let his lips fall open and he lapped along the slick of you he'd made slicker with his skilled mouth.
You were trembling now, your fingernails scraping along the back of his neck now, your legs weak with the effort of holding yourself up when all you wanted to do was fall apart.
"Come for me..." he breathed before he sealed his lips again.
Demand? Request? It hardly fucking mattered, because before you could classify it as either you were doing it. You were calling out, grasping his shoulders and trembling against his hold on your hips.
He pulled back from you, wiping his mouth into the palm of his hand before he stood in front of you once more. "Mmm...." he hummed before you watched him stroke his length with his wet hand. "Love the way you sound when you're cussing my name..."
Fuck. He'd only just made you come and you felt a new little ember spark to life inside you just waiting to be stoked. Insatiable was putting it lightly. When he kissed you this time, you could taste what he'd done to you—how he'd just driven you wild—and you needed to make him feel just as good.
You stepped apart enough to make more space for him between your legs and pulled him toward you. "Need you..." you whispered against his lips.
"Need me to what?" he replied, kissing along your jawline to your ear before he lapped against your throat and sealed his lips to suck a little mark into your skin.
You bucked your hips against him, feeling his length slide through the mess he'd made of you. "To fuck me..."
The way he responded to those words never got old. You held them in reserve, generally choosing to be a touch more subtle. He practically growled, his head snapping back, his dark eyes trained on yours when his grip on you tightened.
You gasped when he hefted you up in front of him, lining himself up with you, locking your thighs around his hips before he pinned you to the wall so he could free one of his hands enough to lock one of your wrists up in it just above your head. Then he drove into you in a slow, firm thrust.
"Dylan!" you cried out before he kissed you again, grinding you back against the wall before he began a more predictable, yet tantalizing rhythm.
A perfectly good couch in the living room just steps away really, a bed down the hall that was plush and waiting, and yet here you were fucking against the wall a step inside the front door like a couple of rabid animals.
When he fucked you like this he never retreated, in this position he just rocked his body into yours. The pressure it provided just where you wanted it most was unmatched. It was incredible and intense. It quickly reminded you why the couch and the bed should be neglected from time to time. Variety is the spice of life, right? And this particular variety was delicious.
"Fuck, baby..." he moaned, his hand slipping from yours, his fingers gliding through your hair until they were tangled into it and he tugged it just enough to make you wince. "So good... so fucking tight..."
"Shit!" He was driving you fucking wild. Sometimes you wish you could take just a tiny day trip into his mind to see if you made him feel as unhinged as he did you. Hardly seemed possible, but the way he looked buried inside you? You could be tempted to believe there was a chance his infatuation could rival your own.
Your body was trembling again and you felt that familiar tug inside you, that welcomed warmth building. Desire and need beginning to fold to bliss and euphoria. Was he with you? Was he ready?
The stutter of his hips, the faltering of that perfect rhythm, they were signs that he was on the edge of his own release. His breath grew ragged, and his jaw clenched with the effort it was clearly taking him to hold it back.
You didn't want him to wait, he was ready and so were you. You leaned forward and kissed him, clenching around him as the final roll of his hips had you coming undone around him.
The soft rumble of the groan he let out into your mouth when you felt him spill inside you made every sensation feel all the more intoxicating. Moments like this were almost unfathomable. How did you end up here? Lucky enough to have this man panting against your chest? It was absurd really. Absolutely batshit.
After a few moments of shared giggles and coming back to reality, he picked the shirt you'd been wearing off the floor and handed it to you to slip back on.
He appraised you as you tugged the hem down over your body.
"What?" you asked, smoothing the new tangles in your hair.
"Nothin'..." he said with a shrug, pulling on his boxers. "Just nice being right."
You narrowed your eyes. "About?"
"Definitely better on the floor."
#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien smut#dylan o'brien fanfiction#dylan o'brien x reader#my first attempt at prompts!#trashy writing#better on the floor fic#is this a tired trope?#I mean... maybe#but some lines are just... ✨hot✨#so... forgive me for a bit of recycling#first new thing in a while#ENOJYYYY#kinda threw... *a lot* at this one
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The Hating Game
Dylan O’Brien x Reader
WARNINGS: mentions of sex, steamy moments (but no smut), swearing, lots of anger/hatred, i think that’s all??
i wrote this a whole year ago and dug it up from deep in the drafts and it’s not entirely awful so i figured i might as well publish??? also edited whilst watching some killer shark movie LMFAOO so it might be a lot worse than i think jshsjs,, quick PSA tho: i dont rlly feel comfy writing for real people anymore, and i don’t like writing smut, so whilst this is relatively steamy there’s no actual smut in it :) hopefully someone enjoys lmfao
there is also a high likelihood that i will be deleting this soon bc i am Embarrassed
Being mortal fucking enemies with your co-worker is not exactly what you envisioned your first serious acting job to entail, but no one can have everything, you suppose. Like, it makes sense, from a realistic (OK, pessimistic) standpoint that getting hired to be a main character on a popular teen TV show with little to no acting experience and the only thing to your name being an apartment you’re about to get evicted out of for not paying your bills is exceedingly lucky. Like, come on, what are the fucking odds? And everyone knows that something so good is bound to be followed by something bad. In your case, something you consider the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person, and his name is Dylan O’Brien.
First off, you know. Dylan O’Brien. Every teenage girls wet dream. He’s a conventionally attractive white guy who respects women because he doesn’t actively spit on them! (You’re not saying he’s sexist, because you’re pretty sure that’s not why he hates you, it’s just because he’s tasteless and a dick.)
Here’s the thing, though. Ever since you started this job, he’s had it out for you. Like, genuinely, he’s fucking evil and is trying to ruin your life. Why is this? You have no clue, only that you hate him back equally as much, if not more.
What really sucks, though, is that this is the guy who’s playing your love interest. At first, this wasn’t even really a problem for you (only to your controlling ex-boyfriend — good fucking riddance, by the way), but it became one when you overheard Dylan actively begging the shows head writer and producer, Jeff, to cancel that plot and then storming off like a complete and utter wankstain when he was denied.
Your character's first kiss scene has had to be filmed at least a million times by now, and the crew is starting to really get pissed off by it, which, like, fair enough, you are too, but it’s not your fault you and Dylan can’t even pretend to be romantically interested in each other for five minutes! The scene itself isn’t even the problem, you’ve nailed that, it’s the kiss. The gentle, loving kiss your characters are supposed to share, and Jeff is an asshole and every time he’d yell at you and Dylan you’d both just get more and more pissed at each other, and the kiss would get progressively more and more heated and angry with every retake.
That’s where you’re at now, bordering on eating each other’s faces (excuse you while you yack!) as Jeff yells “cut!” for the fifty-millionth time. You and Dylan instantly spring apart, awkwardly avoiding eye contact as Jeff sighs. Using the back of your hand, you wipe your mouth, only to pull it back to find blood. Literal fucking blood.
“Did you bite me, you fucking pervert?” you whisper-yell at Dylan so that the crew aren’t prone to any more unprofessional behavior you exhibit. The stinging in your lip grows more profound, and you scoff. “Oh my fucking God, you bit me.”
Dylan smirks, shrugging his shoulders as he glares back at you tenfold. He’s oozing this nonchalant smugness, and you feel more pissed at him than ever.
“How the hell was that ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’!?” you continue quietly yelling at him as Jeff talks with the rest of the crew, his hands rubbing over the creases on his forehead.
Dylan’s smirk falls, as he glares at you with incredulity, “How was pulling my hair like, five minutes ago, any more ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’?!” he spits back.
Part of you wants to admit that that was genuinely an accident, but, like, whatever. Dylan would probably take it the wrong way, interpreting it as you being kinky and attracted to him. “OK,” you say instead, “act like you didn’t moan when I did that, you freak.”
“I moaned in pain,” he argues, eyebrows scrunched and a fire in his eyes as he unconsciously steps towards you.
You open your mouth, ready to retort with another remark with the intent to insult him, but Jeff’s voice quickly cuts the two of you off. “OK, guys, it’s been a long day but we’re gonna try it again,” he breathes out, rubbing his hands together before he suddenly stops, eyes narrowing in on your lip. “Jesus, OK, what the hell, your lip is bleeding Y/N.”
“Sorry about that,” Dylan smirks, poorly feigning being apologetic. And this guy’s supposed to be an actor, Jesus Christ.
“Right,” Jeff sighs, so obviously done with the both of you as you glare daggers at Dylan, which only seems to widen his smirk. “Um, OK, so this time… Dylan, try not to eat Y/N, OK? And, guys, try not to step on each other’s feet… or kick each other… the camera may not be able to see down there, but it shows, and we cab. Um, so, both of you…. just… gentle and loving, OK? This is supposed to be a sweet moment, your characters are comforting each other…. God, OK, let’s just try and get this over with.”
Admittingly, when Jeff speaks, you aren’t even really listening. You’re trying your best to hide the fact that you’re elbowing Dylan behind your back, and he’s aggressively standing on your toes. The both of you are glaring at each other from the corners of your eyes, paying Jeff little attention.
“And, reset!” Jeff calls, the both of you getting back into position. Dylan seemingly can’t help himself, though, because he steps on your heel as you walk away from him. Fucking asshole. You curse him out in your head as you try to hide your wince and sit on Stiles’ bed. He just always has to have the last word. It’s fucking childish.
You’re not paying attention as Jeff continues to call to the crew, ready for a retake. Instead, you’re glaring straight ahead, and Dylan is glaring back. The tension between the two of you dissipates quickly as Jeff yells “Action!” though, and you pretend to be upset as tears fill your eyes. You sniffle and Dylan walks over, slowly sinking himself down next to you. There’s a palpable distance between the two of you, one that’s closing slowly as Dylan, in character, awkwardly shuffles towards you, fidgeting all the while.
“What are you doing?” your character asks, looking at Dylan (Stiles) with soft, furrowed brows.
“Uhhh,” he stutters, “I just—trying to comfort you?”
“Oh,” your character says. “Right. I’m OK, though. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s alright.”
There’s silence for a moment, enough to be considered a moment too long, one that makes the air awkward. You aren’t looking at Jeff but you assume he’s relatively pleased, although this isn’t the part you and Dylan have been struggling with. It’s coming up, though.
Your breath audibly halters as Dylan’s tender fingers brush your hair out of your face, tucking it behind you ear. His character is closer than you thought, as you turn to face him. His fingers are lingering in your hair, coming to hesitantly cup the side of your face as you meet his gaze. There’s barely even three centimeters between your faces, and your character's eyes are flicking down to his lips constantly, as though she can’t help herself.
“Can I…” Dylan‘s charachter trails off, gulping. “Can I—is it alright if I kiss—?”
You cut him off, quickly leaning in to place a peck on his lips.
“…You,” he breathes out, his eyes widened as he looks thoroughly perplexed.
Your character bites her lip, looking down at her hands before shooting up. “Sorry. I’m—I probably shouldn’t have done that. Sorry. I’ll go.” As quickly as you stand up, though, Dylan grabs your hand.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, and when you turn around to face him his hands are cupping your cheeks again and you’re kissing. It’s gentle and soft until his finger tugs a strand of your hair, and then all of a sudden your hands are in Dylan’s hair roaming through them and tugging and, next thing you know, you’re tonguing and Dylan’s hand is wrapped around your throat.
“OK, cut!” Jeff screeches, and the two of you practically scramble away from each other. “What the hell, guys? You were doing so well until then. I just… Let’s take another five, I guess. No, actually, screw it, we’ll pick this back up tomorrow.”
Jeff storms off, and not only are you pissed at Dylan now, you’re ashamed. The both of you have been acting unprofessional all day, just because Dylan is a fucking child. If he gets you fired… You’re gonna kill him. Fucking murder him. Shit on his mutilated corpse.
Glaring at him, you shove his side as you storm off to go back to your trailer and calm down. You need to sleep because tomorrow is an early shoot and it’s already late, and now you probably won’t be able to because you’re pissed and stressed and worried.
Unfortunately for you, there’s a pattern of thudding footsteps on the ground before Dylan catches up to you. “Jesus, can you slow down?” he rasps. “What the hell did I even do now?”
“Are you fucking serious, O’Brien?” you whirl around, only to be met with him much closer than you anticipated. “I could get fired ‘cause of your immature ass.”
“Oh, my immature ass?” he scoffs. “Do you even hear yourself?”
With a roll of your eyes, you turn around and continue on your merry way to your trailer. You want to get away from Dylan, desperately, before you end up punching him, but he doesn’t seem to be getting the hint and is hot on your heels.
“You’re the one always calling me a dick and shit, insulting me, starting stuff. I mean, I have bruises on my back from you elbowing me just a minute ago.” You’re at your trailer now, after blocking out Dylan’s ranting in your ear, but you only just open the door before he continues, “What, you mad ‘cause no one else ever dishes back what you put out? Sorry not everyone just accepts your word as gospel, princess.”
“First of all, fuck you,” you spit. You’re giving him the attention and reaction he wants, but you don’t even care. You’re that pissed off. “Second of all, me, the princess? Holy shit, O’Brien, you’re delusional. You had a go at me today because I ate the last mac ‘n cheese, even though your name wasn’t on it. You think everything belongs to you because everybody loves you. News flash, it doesn’t, and they don’t. They just suck up to you because you’re a rich white guy with an army of teenage girls behind you.”
“Sounds like you’re just jealous to me,” Dylan shrugs, trying to pretend he’s unaffected but the stiffness in his shoulders is entirely obvious. “I mean, come on, let’s be honest here, you’re used to getting everything, to being the favourite, but the moment someone else gets attention you go fucking haywire. Or maybe you’re just in love with me. You say you hate me but, come on, everyone knows there’s a thin line between love and hate.”
“Me? Love you?” You scoff, laughing aggressively. “Only one of us choked the other as they shoved their tongue down their throat today.”
“Choked you?” Dylan snorts. “You wish. I merely placed my hand in the wrong place. It was an accident, Y/L/N. You know, like you.”
“Oh, good one. You really got me there, Dyl.” The sarcasm is practically oozing out of your every pore at this point. “And your hand was around my neck. How do you accidentally do that?”
“I was aiming for your other cheek, but you were tugging on my hair so much I could barely fucking see,” he retorts.
“Oh, sure. You were aiming for my cheek and you just accidentally slipped your hand right like this,” you say, sliding your hand around Dylan’s throat to demonstrate, lightly pushing him against the wall.
“Yeah, maybe like how you accidentally kept going like this,” Dylan says, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stares straight into yours, his fingers sliding through your hair before gripping and yanking.
“I hate you,” you breathe, your gazes re-aligning. The distance between the two of you is minimal at this point, and there’s an angry hornets nest in your stomach that you blame on your insatiable anger and hatred of this man in front of you.
“Fight me,” he spits, eyes boring into yours and not breaking contact for even a second.
“Oh, you wanna fight?” You challenge, mocking him.
“Fuck you,” he spits again, violently frustrated.
“Oh, you wanna fuck?” You were supposed to say it with a laugh, but the distance between the two of you is so small, and your voice sounds so quiet, and his eyes are looking at yours like that, and it suddenly sounds so reasonable… The two of you are kissing, but it doesn’t feel like kissing. It feels like more. It doesn’t start gentle and slow, like the ones you were doing for the camera earlier, it starts violent and angry as you communicate every ounce of hatred from one body to another.
Dylan’s foot juts out, his hands sliding down your body as he kicks the door to the trailer shut. Immediately, you push him up against the closed door, hands sliding into his hair as his hands come up to cup your cheeks with vigor.
“I knew you were into that,” he groans, smirking.
“Shut the fuck up,” you retort, forcing his head back down to yours so your lips can re-meet. His laugh cuts off into a moan as you pull his hair, and he suddenly flips the two of you around, parting your legs with his foot as his hands cup your ass.
The next day, you drag yourself into hair and makeup, ashamed. You know Sam, your makeup artist, is gonna want to kill you for all the goddamn hickies on your neck. Honest to god, it looks like you’ve just crawled out a leech-infested lake.
“Jesus Christ, girl,” Sam gasps as you take your usual seat. “You get mauled or something?”
The woman lifts your hair as she peers at your marked-up neck, assessing the damage. She seems more amused than pissed off, thankfully, but it does nothing to quell your embarrassment. You just hope you didn’t mark Dylan up as much as he did you, or else someone might just put the pieces together. You do not want people thinking your standards are low enough to sleep with him—they might think you’re some sex-crazed satanist if they know you fucked the devil last night.
“Yeah, something like that,” you sigh, irritation lining your tone. It just so happens that, at that moment, the trailer door opens and in comes Dylan. Your eyes meet immediately, just as they always have done when the two of you have found yourselves in the same room. You glare, but you find it’s half-hearted and, unlike usual, he looks away and goes over to his own seat, seemingly searching for something.
Huh.
“You gotta tell me who did this to you,” Sam whistles, still in shock, apparently. “Slip ‘em my number, maybe.”
You can’t see Dylan entirely, his back half-turned to you, but you see the corner of his lips turn up as he tries to suppress a smirk.
“You know what they say about guys who put on a show,” you shrug, eyes narrowed in Dylan’s direction. He’s pretending to search for his phone still, but you saw him slip it into his pocket already. Nosey fucker. “It’s a little somethin’ called overcompensation.”
Sam lets out a loud cackle, turning to grab something out of her bag, and Dylan, done with pretending to look for his phone, whirls his head around to give you a subtle glare and a raised eyebrow, a smug look on his face like he knows you’re lying. (Which you, very begrudgingly, have to admit to yourself that you are.)
You hate Dylan. Despise him, even. More than you’ve ever hated anyone; you can rationalize why last night happened easily enough. The amount of hatred and tension and the pressure from Jeff to get that scene right all blew up. That much emotion had to be exhausted somewhere, and, well, it was. It was a blip in the timeline, some kind of glitch in the matrix, but it happened and there’s an easy explanation. What there’s not an easy explanation for, however, is why you liked it so much. Why you’re lying, trying to pretend it wasn’t nearly as good as it was, trying to pretend you’re not still thinking about how it felt to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him… There is no logical explanation for that.
In fact, it’s entirely illogical, the mushy way you feel inside when you met his eyes, covered with a glare that you wish had half the hate in it that it normally does. It’s weird and it’s wrong, because you’re not supposed to have butterflies when you think of the way his hand had caressed your face, the way he ran his fingers through your hair, the way his arms felt, wrapped around you. You’re supposed to be revolted.
He’s smug and he’s pompous and you cannot stand him, let alone stand the thought of kissing him. And yet, although you hate the fact that the thought exists, you yearn for it. You find yourself excited, even, to go to set and get yelled at by Jeff because you simply cannot help yourselves when it comes to one another. You hate it, every second of it, every second of him. You think you hate him so much you might actually love him. And with the wink he sends over his shoulder as he leaves the trailer, eyes dark as they peer at the hickies Sam is frantically trying to cover up, you think he does, too.
#dylan obrien#dylan obrien imagine#dylan obrien x reader#stiles stilinski#teen wolf#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien x reader
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When Fire Meets Fate [Mitch Rapp]
(gif is not mine, all credits go to the author)
Summary : You couldn't feel feelings or emotions like normal humans did. But you could when your best friend's brother, Mitch the firefighter, had something to do with it.
Pairing : Firefighter!Mitch Rapp x Reader
Warning : 18+ ONLY, MINOR DNI, mentions of fire related lingo, reader is in danger, running (yes it's a warning, I've got asthma), smut, titty worship, oral (m and f receiving), pussy slapping, fingering, slight creampie, pet names (sunshine and sweetheart), mitch is kinda soft but also really much mitch i guess ??
A/N : first post in a while, this one's for birdie nonnie so hope you enjoy love !!
Destiny had a funny way of letting things happen without any kind of warning or explanation. Everyone always repeated that bullshit about things happening for a reason and God working in mysterious ways but nobody ever tried to go deeper into this, try to explain it a little better. It was all about the vagueness and how mysterious it made them seem.
Well fuck that.
Fuck them and their stupid fate. You were the one in control and you knew it when the stupid choices you made would come back to bite you in the ass. They always did. If there was an omnipotent force to guide and even control each and every one of us, then it was doing a shit job because there was no way the decisions you made could be allowed by the universe. There had to be a pop up warning of some kinds to make you think it through at least one last time before actually doing anything.
To some, that pop up warning was sever anxiety and to other it was a little gut feeling that they enjoyed defying to test out their limits. All in all, you had neither, you were simply… empty. It was funny truly, but it made your life ten times more logical. From an outside point you were probably a psychopath with tendencies to tickle danger for the kick of it. Now, to anyone who knew better, meaning very few people, you were desperate.
It was hilarious really, poor you who simply couldn’t feel that rise in your stomach whenever something was wrong or when you were in danger. You simply couldn’t feel shit.
The doctor’s never understood why you, why or how it started. It wasn’t hereditary or anything, you simply couldn’t feel normal human emotions and you hated it, or at least you tried to. It was difficult to know what hate felt like when again, you didn’t feel things.
You had tried, through various technics and nothing had worked. You never cried when you fell and hurt yourself as a child. You weren’t in pain but it was uncomfortable. You never jumped in joy or even smiled whenever you’d be offered something, as pricy and beautiful as it was. You barely moved whenever someone was threatening you or humiliated you. The way you would look at these people right in their eyes had you nicknamed the Soul Searcher. You never lost an argument because you never let yourself be swayed by emotions such as annoyance or fear.
Your emotional impairment made you one of the best lawyers in the business. It was bad for relationships but great for money and business, so you weren’t in such a bad situation. You had learned to find great pros in a situation that pretty much seemed like a big con, another talent of yours.
For someone who couldn’t feel happiness or joy, you were very positive about most things and you were also very observant, making it very easy for you to study emotions and mimic them. Some called it manipulation, you called it adapting. In a society were everyone felt to a certain extent, it was your duty to try and look like them. You were only blending in.
But what were you supposed to do when strange things were creeping up inside you ? When tingles erupted in your stomach and started exploding all over ? Were you supposed to act like nothing was going on ? Could you do both ? Fake it and act like the little burning feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t there ?
That was your current situation, the predicament you found yourself in as you watched your office burn down slowly.
You always worked late and stayed behind to catch up on work. You groaned were not particularly fond of big piles of files and or putting things off. For all you knew, you could be dead tomorrow, so might as well do it today, right ? Well, Death had come knocking on your door that day.
With your headphones screwed around your head and blasting the loudest kind of music, you were fully focused on your work. You were the most efficient for a reason. Only emergencies ever managed to pull you out of it. And it was the case that day, when your best friend called in a hurry after sending her own weight in text messages.
“Please tell me you’re at home or out in a bar ! Tell me you went home early ! Tell me you’re not at the firm !”
You could hear the panic and the sniffles, she was crying.
“I’m at the firm, why ? Is everything alright ?”
She had taken a deep breath to hide a sob and failed miserably.
“Can’t you smell anything ?! T-The building… The building is on fire ! You got to get out of there ! Quickly !”
As soon as you had heard those words, that concentration bubble popped, letting the bitter scent of smoke creep into your nostrils. You couldn’t feel panic or fear but you were also actively avoiding death, so you did what she told you, you acted quickly.
You snatched your laptop and your bags as well as the USB drive containing your life’s entire work and ran, you ran as fast as you could, breathing in the toxic smoke. Maybe not the smartest thing to do. You had realized that when you fell unconscious, a few feet away from the exit door, lazily dodging a falling peace of concrete. It had blocked your way, but it didn’t matter anymore, not when you were passing out.
You could hear and see the bright light of a firetruck and the screams of the firefighters calling out for you, one of the voices sounding a little more familiar than the rest, and letting those bubbles explode in your stomach again. What a strange feeling.
~
When you started waking up, you felt comfort and warmth heating the side of your face. Nuzzling against whatever it was, you when it traveled to your forehead but quickly settled, too exhausted to fight when you felt good either way. The hand on your stomach, caressing it slowly felt good too, very good.
Suddenly jolting awake and sitting up, you looked around frantically, swatting away the hands on your skin and jumping down of whatever you’d been laying on this whole time. With all this movement, the dizziness was quick to get you and lay a cloud of nausea and confusion of you. The reflux of whatever pastry was in your stomach made your sour throat burn and your eyes water.
Was this pain ? Was it what it felt like to not feel good ? To suffer and be able to notice it ? To understand it and recognize it ?
“You have to lie down, otherwise you’ll feel even worse.”
Between the ringing in your ears and your shakiness, the faint voice of the person who had been touching you earlier managed to reach you. When you felt yourself falling again, arms wrapped around you before you could violent meet the floor.
“God, you’re a pain in the ass. Even worse than before.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at a memory he had.
Composing yourself slowly, you took deep breath to gather your wits and register all the informations flooding your brain. As you felt your heartbeat slow down and your stomach settle, you slowly turned to look into the eyes of the man who’d been spinning your world around in such a short period. Or a longer one than what you were ready to admit.
“M-Mitch…”
“Happy to see that you remember me Sunshine. Does Stacy know you’re here ? She called me in a panic saying you worked in the building that burned down.”
You stayed silent and unmoving, practically frozen in time. You were loosing it out here, there was just no other way to describe it.
Mitch Rapp, the bane of your existence if you could describe it.
You did not hate or love, nor did you feel annoyance. But this man made you feel something very close to it and you were not pleased. You’d known him since you were thirteen, when you met Stacy. She’d been the most intriguing person ever to your younger self and still to this day. When everyone ended up leaving you because of your incapacity to feel like normal people did, she had stuck around and made sure to let it be known that she was not going anywhere. She would follow you around and ask you questions after questions. You’d never been bothered by your condition so you answered but the surprise was when she revealed the notebook she kept with everything you’d had told her about yourself. She learned happily and compensated your lack of emotions by what seemed to be an overabundance of them in her. She was necessary to you just like you were to her.
Now, one thing that you were certainly not needing was Mitch Rapp, Stacy’s big brother and an absolute pain in your behind. From the end of middle school to the end of high school, he made sure to push your buttons as far as they could go, in a simple desperate attempt pull himself out of his constant boredom. It being invasive questions or small touches in hallways when no one could see, he did it all.
The only barrier he never crossed was sex and public humiliation. You believe that he respected you to some extent, but his need to amuse himself seem to top it all, and you seemed to be the most interesting thing ever to him. Because where you naturally couldn’t feel and had taught yourself to fake it, he could feel emotions to their extreme and taught himself to simply not feel. Polar opposites, that’s what you were. And maybe that’s what had you develop the closet think you could feel to a crush on your best friend’s big brother. No matter how annoying you found him, he still did things to your heart that no one ever did.
And maybe you’d been far from a simple crush on him, using the term as an excuse. It was a good one right ?
It was even more fun to see how different you were because when you found a way to always be positive no matter what, he believed in nothing but himself. To him, the world was only toying with you and you could let it happen or fight back.
Nothing could link you both other than Stacy, so why was it that he managed to ignite such strange things in you ? It being happiness, interest, annoyance or lust.
You would always be ashamed of it, but you couldn’t help it. It was out of your control, once again, and this time it shattered your whole world.
How ironic of Destiny to choose the man you seemed to avoid at all cost as the only being to successfully make you feel.
It being a simple word or a whisper. Him leaning down to reach you and hear the words you’d mumble whenever he did successfully annoy you. All of it, it made your heartbeat rise, your skin heat up and your hands turned clammy. You even stuttered with him and you hated it. For so long, you wished to be normal but it happening with him and him only was something you couldn’t accept.
“Are you done staring ? Or is it your way of admitting that you like what you see ?”
His deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making your insides shake and while a new wave of confusion and anxiety rose inside of you. You completely ignored his words, staying still and staring at him with a need to jump his bones. Was it the uniform ? Or your high school crush just jumping out after years of repression ? You had done an incredible job avoiding the man so seeing him now, all dirty and looking absolutely divine in his firefighter uniform did have its effect on you. The famous “men in uniforms” type of feeling. It was indeed powerful and vicious too.
This wasn’t good at all. Why were you thinking this way ? Taking time to stare at the parts of him that were exposed and feeling genuine lust wasn’t supposed to happen. You needed to leave.
Looking around, you checked for anything that could be yours, which you grabbed quickly before dashing away, as fast as your current state allowed. You had been running a short distance before finding a place to hide and breath as much as you could. Your throat burned and your limbs felt like they would fall off in a second, but you couldn’t stay so close to him.
As you crouched down, a hand ever your heart and yours eyes screwed shut, you tried to slow your heartbeat but you couldn’t. You could still hear his voice and see his face in your mind. Even his scent tormented you, so much so that you could practically feel the warmth it carried.
Slowly realizing the situation, you looked up to find him there, looking down on you with your phone and your keys. .
“You can’t outrun a firefighter, mostly not with lungs like yours. I bet it burns huh ? Come on, let me help.” He breathed out, crouching down to your level.
When he reached towards you to touch you, your body acted on its own, jerking back and away from his touch. He was quick to react and surrender by raising both his hands.
“You’re safe, I’m not going to do anything you won’t like. Stacy would kill me anyways if I bothered you, especially today.” He promised, his voice sounding softer than usual and soothing you in a matter of seconds.
Moving slowly, you let him pull you to his chest and wrap you in his arms. You were still dizzy and slightly out of it from running with smoked lungs so you ignored the little yelp you let out when his hand slid under your shirt and under the strap of your bra to be held tightly against your skin. When he started making small circles over your skin with his fingers, you felt yourself sink down on top of him, your entire body melting into a puddle as you felt yourself relax and your heartbeat slow down.
You were no doctor but you were practically certain that the massage had no power to fix a painful breathing system, so you wondered why it felt so good to have him press into your vertebral column and help you relax. Your throat was still sore and you would be coughing for a long while but none of that mattered when Mitch Rapp was doing something to you, something that had you purring in the crook of his neck.
“Yeah, that feels good huh ? You like that Sweetheart ? Tell me how you feel.” He ordered in a low voice, his lips grazing the tip of your earlobe.
You stayed quiet, you couldn’t speak. You knew what would happen if you opened your mouth, the most humiliating sound would come out. You knew you’d let out a sound even worse that a simple yelp and you couldn’t have that.
You didn’t understand feelings very well but you wouldn’t let him get his way just because he was bored, even as an adult. You knew you were feeling something intense, standing on the line separating comfort and pleasure. That separation, you’d been standing on it, practically loosing balance each and every time Mitch Rapp was around and toying with you.
You tried to move, to get up and pry yourself out of his grasp but it was two against one, Mitch and your body siding together to fight your mind. He kept you close to him, held you tightly while playing with the hooks of your bra. Maybe you had jumped into the lion’s den by allowing him to help. Because now you were stuck, fighting the urge to respond vocally and let it be known that you wanted more, needed more.
These feelings and emotions, they felt good, so good. The kind of good you never had the chance of experiencing before. This was too much pleasure for you to simply detach yourself and let it go to waste. You wanted to discover more, dive deeper into what it was.
That yelp that you had been trying to conceal, it suddenly shot out of your mouth when he swiftly move you on top of him, having you straddle his muscular thighs. Maybe it was then that your body lost power and control, your brain taking over once again when you felt his bulge press between your ass.
“When I tell you to tell me how you feel, that’s not a suggestion Sweetheart. Let me hear it, how good I make you feel.” He growled, pressing you down on him by the waist.
This was far from simple firefighter intervention. This was Mitch, the Mitch from high school who’d corner you in hallways trying to get you to show him how you felt and what you looked like when you did.
Looking into his eyes, you saw it, that glint of excitement. Not lust, but interest. You were still intriguing to him and he was letting it be known that he hadn’t changed.
You shouldn’t have allowed him around you, not again, not like this, no matter what he made you feel. You were being flooded by emotions, this was what it was like to be overwhelmed. And maybe it had you tear up a little bit, but you were new to this and you didn’t know how to process them.
Looking around you again, you found all your belongings and even the one’s he’d kept. You expected him to keep you locked against him but no. As soon as you showed any signs of wanting to leave, he let go of you. You were surprised but also grateful, standing up on shaky legs and walking away as fast as you could. Your body felt like it would float away and you could still feel his gaze on you, fixated and piercing through your soul.
When you got near the outside of the hospital you’d ran out of, you were lucky to find Stacy waiting for you with a bone crushing hug and a speech about being aware of your surroundings. She might’ve also mentioned her brother telling her your location so that she could pick you up.
~
When you arrived at your place after convincing Stacy that you could survive on your own and would call if anything was wrong, you found yourself leaning against your door, exhausted beyond measure. You tried to move but you couldn’t, the mind whipping memories of Mitch Rapp playing with the most sensitive parts of you and actually having an effect.
Because with lack of physical or emotional reaction, came lack of sexual pleasure. You just, didn’t enjoy yourself, no matter how long you would try or how good he felt. None of this worked and maybe you were also at fault, constantly comparing them to the little high school crush you couldn’t get rid of. Maybe it was even time to admit that you might’ve loved him a little. Or a lot. You wanted to feel pleasure but to this day, you had to lie and fake orgasms to get out of awkward situations.
As you slid down your door, locking it for the night, you felt the pulsating sensation between your legs, the kind that had started when you were sixteen and would only happen around your best friend’s big brother.
Nothing ever happened but God, your body and mind agreed that you wished it would. You felt your insides scream at you for depriving them of him and what he clearly wanted, just as much if not more than you. Your mind could still vividly feel the large bulge throbbing under you and it was enough for you to flood your panties again.
You were ashamed of your reaction but how were you supposed to control what you weren’t familiar with ?
Reaching down to take of your pants, you mewled loudly when your fingers grazed your dripping core and pressed on your sensitive bud a little longer than what would be appropriate. You had the memory of his fingers pressing your back and soothing your raging heart, his breath against your neck and his strong scent sticking to your nostrils.
Maybe you were too out of it but you weren’t going to let this go to waste, pushing three fingers inside your wet pussy and inhaling deeply when you felt actual pleasure. You felt good. In an attempt to mimic his size, you parted your fingers open and played with your walls. You couldn’t breath properly, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth and your head thrown back. Letting out little noises, your let your fingers rub your insides as you let them go back and forth inside you.
You could feel it vividly, his own member, thick and raging with hormones and lust but also so much more, just waiting to dirty you all over.
Your fingers soaked and your juices dripping all over your lower parts, you cried out in pleasure when you felt your high get close. You cried out in pleasure, his name coming out a few times while you reached down with your second hand. When your thumb grazed your clit you were done for, instantly. This was what it felt like to feel pleasure and to cum.
You sat there, dazed and trembling, for a few minutes before standing up and finally entering your bedroom. After a very much needed cold shower, you dropped on your bed, your bathrobe falling to the floor. You sunk against the mattress, covered yourself and fell asleep in no time, desperately hoping that the night would erase the lingering presence of Mitch Rapp on your sensitive skin.
Maybe if you had been awake just a little longer, you would’ve seen him, leaning against his car, as he stared up to your window.
~
The night was ineffective. You remembered it all after eighteen days and you hated it. Everywhere you went, you could feel his gaze on you, the way he looked at you while he massaged your back. You could see it all and feel it all as if it was happening all over again. The memory you used to be praised for was now killing you a little bit each and every day.
But to add salt to you wounds, Stacy had given Mitch your number. And for a man who seemed to hate the majority of people and just about any kinds of discussion, he was fucking chatty. It started with simple messages asking how you were doing, then it turned into the kinds that would send your heart into a panic. He was slowly getting you used to his presence, you could feel it but the question was why ?
Why after all these years of not seeing each other, no matter how close your circles were, was he suddenly finding interest in you again ?
This question, you didn’t expect to find a response of any kind. But it seems you wouldn’t have any other choice when you found him, standing there, behind your door with a bag in hand.
You stood there, in your pajamas, looking at him with what seemed to be a blank expression but hid the most violent of hurricanes.
“Are you going to keep staring or are you going to let me in ?” He tilted his head with what looked like a smile behind extending the bag towards you. “I brought you a care package.”
You stayed quiet but moved out of the way to let him in. As he assed by, his strong scent infiltrated your nostrils and the entirety of your body, making you clench your exposed thighs together. The scent of smoke, wet grass, rain and pine trees, all of it forming the perfect mix to make your brain melt and your body react out of control.
When you felt ready to face him inside your home you finally faced away from the door but crashed directly into something. You looked up to find him staring down on you, a slight look of amusement.
“Where you sniffing me ?”
Fuck, that was humiliating. You tried to open your mouth to respond but no sound came out, just a string of weird faces and silence. You didn’t think you could react any worse, until you felt his hand slide around your waist, letting his fingers graze your skin and leave a soft burn behind.
“Tell me, Sunshine. Were. You. Sniffing. Me. And this time, I want to hear sounds coming out of your mouth. I bet you sound amazing when you’re being honest with yourself.”
His eyes were staring straight into yours and you felt mike he was pillaging your soul, trying to find the truth he was talking about. Who was named the Soul Searcher here ?
For a short second, you started questioning his motives, why was he insisting on seeing you react that much ? It wasn’t as if you would be crying of joy or breaking bones at each reaction so why ? You frowned , staring up at him, before you picked his hand off of you and laid a hand on his chest to push him away.
“Mitch Rapp, I don’t know what you’re hopping to find here, but we’re not teenagers anymore and I won’t let you toy with me and have your way because you’re bored.” You said, unable to conceal the slight annoyance in your voice.
Instead of backing off, he seemed even more amused this time.
“Is that what annoyance looks like on you ? I was working towards something else but I’m not going to complain, this is good, very good.” He asked, a curious grin on his face.
“Stop saying stupid things and go to the living room. It’s that way.” You exhaled, turning towards your kitchen area and walking away.
You met him in the living area, trying to ignore his presence as much as you could. You were feeling crushed under his aura in your own home and you wouldn’t tolerate it, but it seemed like he wanted to see you fight back.
You shook your head, ignoring all your questions and sat in the opposite couch.
“Why are you here ?”
“Well, you’re not very responsive over texts and even less for a phone call. I was worried, I pulled you out of a burning building remember ?” He joked, dropping the heavy bag on your coffee table.
“I pulled myself out of there, Mitch. And do you visit all the victims you save ?”
“No, just you. I came here to check on you too. Make sure your lungs would be fine. Stacy told me you still sucked at taking care of yourself so I needed to make sure you were taking good care of yourself. I was worried you know ? You tried to sprint out of the hospital as soon as you woke up.”
You tilted your head to the side, showing your confusion once more. You doubted the honesty of his motives but you weren’t going to debate him, you did suck at taking care of yourself. You shrugged and slide to the side, allowing him to sit next to you. You stayed still and silent when he grabbed your chin and asked you to open up. You waited until he was done with your mouth to proceed.
“Aren’t you like, off duty or something ?”
He chuckled, hearing your vague words.
“Off duty ?”
“Yeah. Firefighters, they’re off duty when they’re not working, right ?”
“No. Us, Sunshine, we’re not off duty. That’s for cop’s and soldiers.”
“Yeah, same stuff, except you don’t have a gun.” You responded, watching him check on your arms and neck. “Wait, but what do you know about my health anyways ? You’re a firefighter, that’s not your job.”
“I know. But I know my way around basic first aid and things like that, so I’m making sure.”
You wanted to smile, some other things never changed. He always had a thing for taking care of others or saving them. He saved you from countless situations and was always the one to fix you up when you were hurt. Being a firefighter was his calling. And the uniform looked damn good on him.
Looking down on his body with a blank expression, you observed and compared with his looks from years ago. You only ever truly saw him on few occasions and each one had your insides doing backflips. Stacy always made fun of you for gawking at him but she understood, her brother looked good. She even bragged that it was the genetics,
“Well, that’s nice of you. But I’m fine. So you can leave, and take the care package with you. It’ll be useless.” You declared, pushing his hands off of you.
You both stared at each other for a good minute before he removed himself from your grasp to hold you instead. When his hand took hold of yours, he pulled you closer to him, forcing you to lay a leg over his. In a swift move, he grabbed both your wrists in one hand while the other fell on your exposed thighs. Shorts were good to sleep when it was this hot outside, but definitely not when Mitch Rapp was in your living room, playing the deadly kind of game.
“Why are you always trying to get rid of me ?” He asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. You tried to respond but the sound were cut off again when his hand slide higher on your skin.
You looked down, inhaling loudly and biting your lower lip to hide the embarrassing sounds threatening to come out. He watched it all, letting go of your wrists to pull it out from underneath your teeth.
“Do I make you uncomfortable ? Do you hate it when I’m around you ? When I touch you ?”
You managed to free one of your hand, grabbing his wrist to pull his fingers away from your lips, but allowed him to feel your plump lips just a little longer than he should’ve. He looked at them with an unreadable expression but you felt like a lamb standing in front of a wolf, ready to be devoured.
At the thought of being viciously devoured, you couldn’t help the gush of wetness pooling in between your thighs, the sensation of pleasure and desperation infiltrating your mind all over again. You felt it, the heat from last time, it was back and it felt good but also uncomfortable. It wasn’t enough, you needed to quench that thirst flowing all through you.
Without paying much attention, you tried to speak again but this time, opened your mouth wide enough for his finger to slip inside your mouth and rest lazily on your tongue. You saw his eyes darken and heard the low growl erupting in his chest. You lowered his gaze, chuckling as he shook his head, but never took his thumb out of your mouth.
“Fuck…” He sigh, looking at you and warning you with his eyes. “For as long as I’ve known you, Sunshine… You ran from me. Everything I did, you would end up running away or hiding from me. Nothing I did was enough to have you react or stay, and it hasn’t changed.”
Feeling the defiance grow in you, you pulled his thumb out, looking at him with piercing blank eyes.
“Maybe if you stopped trying to get me to react for your own entertainment, I wouldn’t be running. I’m not here to fix your boredom.” You responded, glaring at him.
“Is that what you think ? Did I did all this just because I was bored ?” He asked with narrow eyes, was he angry at your assumption ? When you nodded, you saw his jaw tighten and you couldn’t help but react. Were you into this ? Visible anger, did it turn you on ?
Too busy wondering what new kink you seemed to have, you let your guard down, allowing you to be moved by him, having you sit on his lap again. And there you were, back to the issue you had faced the night of the fire, he was too close for your own sanity.
“Mitch… Let go of me…” You stuttered, trying to maintain your composure but were only met with silence and his firm hands gripping your waist. Younger you was jumping and screaming in happiness but current you wasn’t so happy.
“You keep saying that… That I have to let go of you, stop touching, stop talking to you. But what if I need you Sunshine ? You ever thought of that ?” He whispered the last part, leaning closer to your face. “What if I can’t fucking live without you ?”
This time, his words fall straight down your lower parts, having the exact effect you were trying to avoid. You inhale loudly, trying to avoid his gaze, but he’s quick to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You weren’t the type to cry or feel altogether, but you were ready to cry right now. Why were feelings and emotions so annoying ?
“Why are you bothering me… Why can’t you just leave me and my emotions alone ?!” You asked loudly.
“You think I give a fuck about your emotions ? Sunshine, I don’t care about them. I care about you, that’s all I fucking care about since high school.” He pressed you down on his growing bulge, making you face the pleasure you felt with him. “Every touch in the hallway, every kiss on your cheeks, everything I did, all of it was for you to notice that I was ready to help. Fuck I was borderline desperate to help you and you took it for boredom ? Couldn’t take a fucking step around you without needing to inhale your scent. You even had me loosing it like a fucking idiot every time I saw you inside my house, but to you I was only bored ?��
He was vexed, but still gentle with you, letting you do what you wanted to do. In this moment, you felt all the years of repressed emotions and desires flood you in one big wave that you didn’t even try to contain. All the times you ended up screaming in a pillow because of the things he would say or just how he would say them. Even just looking at you made you feel, and all this time you tried to push it away, to refuse it. Well you were done doing that. For the first time in your life, you allowed yourself to respond to his actions by acting however you pleased too.
When you pressed your core down on him, you didn’t expect him to just let go of you and drop hiss head backwards. He leaned his arms on the back of your couch, a small smile on his face before he looked at you again, his eyes clouded by lust and faint restraint. This man decided to control himself now ?
“You can’t do that Sweetheart… What am I supposed to do when you retaliate ?”
“I-Isn’t that what you want ? For me to respond ?” You attempted to keep your voice as steady as you could despite the knot of moans forming in your throat.
“Is that what it is ? A response ? What are you responding to exactly ? And be clear, I want to hear you say it.”
Now he was teasing you, and for a split second, you felt like a teenager again, like the girl he would corner in hallways, kiss on the cheek and call beautiful when no one but him was watching, when no one but him could see you react. For a split second, you understood everything that he always showed you and you started questioning how good you were at reading people. Because you had read Mitch Rapp completely wrong for years.
“I want you to touch me. I want you to touch me until I feel something… Just like I felt before…” You declared, a sudden boost of confidence surging through you.
You both stared at each other for a few seconds, you waiting for his answer and him grinning like an idiot with no thought going through his mind. He needed to do something because you wouldn’t have the strength to do it again.
And in good Mitch fashion, he said nothing and acted.
~
When you asked him to make you feel, a part of you was worried for what would happen next. Were you ready to face whatever reaction he’d pull out of you ? And how would you react exactly ? Because you weren’t just new to this, you were finally accepting it and maybe it would be too much. You were used to being overwhelmed when he was around and never truly managed to deal with it. You hated the idea of simply untrusting the next events to Destiny but clearly you would have any other choice.
As soon as you spoke the words he had desperately been trying to hear, he lifted you up and marched towards your bedroom. You held onto him, staying quiet and avoiding his piercing eyes on you. If you could see what was going through his mind, you would think that he was crazy. There was no other way to explain it, but he couldn’t help it. The things you had him dreaming all throughout high school and even during adulthood, they tormented him for years.
Mitch Rapp had been in love with you since he was eight years old and you took his actions for a desperate attempt to entertain himself.
It was his fault for not being more direct, more honest with himself. All these times, when you’d smile at him or respond to his usual flirting with you own usual blank expression and wittiness. He just couldn’t help it, even if he tried, and it was certain that he never truly tried. He had wasted too much time acting subtle and discreet when the only thing he wanted was to drop to his knees and worship the very group you walked on.
But it was fine. Because now, he would catch up on years of missed opportunities and do everything his dreams had him hoping for. He would show you exactly how much he meant it when he said that it was never boredom.
~
As soon as he dropped you on the mattress, he did not waste a second trying to be subtle or gentle with you. He promised to make you feel and would do good on his promise, but he couldn’t think straight currently. All of you was made to ruin him and be ruined by him in return.
He watched your body bounce on the bed and for a second, processed exactly what he intended on doing to you, his cock twitching at the simple memory of your plump ass sitting right on the perfect spot and pulling the plug on any rational thought. At first, he came here to check on you honestly, but seeing you in your pretty silk shorts and tank top, he wanted nothing more than be the reason you wouldn’t be thinking or walking straight for the next few days.
He all but ripped his shirt off, and let it fall to the floor before dropping to his knees and pulling you towards the edge of the bed. You would be lying if you said that this little display of strength didn’t make your dripping cunt throb in desperation. You never wanted to be used so much in your life, ready to do anything to feel.
You pushed your legs apart without his help and were ready to hide your face when he looked at you with amusement and terribly hidden desire. He was amused but nothing had ever made him this hard in his life. He could feel his pulsating cock begging to be freed, pushing against his zipper and desperately trying to reach that sweet pussy of yours. He could see it, the juices dripping out of you and soaking your pretty shorts. He pushed them to the side and practically came on the spot when he came face to face with your exposed core.
You slept with this, and this only. No underwear and had greeted him at the door with this as the only thing covering you.
Wrapping his hands around your full thighs, he pulled you closer, burying his nose between your legs and inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy.
“Fuck Sunshine… Smells like fucking heaven… And bet it tastes even better. Tell me, do you want me to give it a taste ? That would make you feel good, do you want to try ?”
You could barely speak a word, your cunt doing the thinking for you when you pushed it closer to his face. His lips grazed the wet fabric and you let out a cry of pleasure. This was all you needed to truly feel pleasure ? God, he’d truly ruin you in no time.
Tightening his fingers around your flesh, he forced you to stay still and looked straight into your eyes with a commanding gaze.
“I said that you had to tell me sweetheart. Use that pretty brain of yours, and speak. Or do you just want me to leave, since you’re not communicating ?”
“No !” You exclaimed, genuinely worried that he would leave you without touching you. “P-Please… Please Mitch… I’m so… So wet… I n-need more… Please, touch me more…”
Your pleading voice sounded like a melody falling straight from heaven down his dick and erasing just a little more rational thinking out of his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his go of one of your thigh to stuff his free hand down the front of his jeans. Fuck, this wouldn’t be enough. He frantically pulled it out to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper, quickly freeing his large member and letting out a groan into your cunt.
You let out another cry of pleasure, feeling the vibrations of his deep voice inside you. Letting out little moans of pleasure at his closeness to your core, you couldn’t help but grind against your sheets, feeling your pussy spread around your tiny shorts and give you a little bit of the friction you asked for. You completely forgot about the man in front of you and started grinding against the sheets, shamelessly moaning his name as if he was the one doing anything.
He watched you, hand wrapped around his thick cock and jerking himself off to you as if he was a in high school again. He dreamt of being able to see you pleasure yourself before, but this was beyond any of his dreams. Gripping on the sheets with one hand, he knew he was done for when you used your second hand to spread your folds open and give him the perfect view of your modesty.
“Mitch… F-Fuck, Mitch please… Please… More, please, gimme more…” You sobbed, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.
His hand tightened around his girth, slowly moving up and down and letting his thumb move over his tip. Fuck, he was hard, beyond hard, he was ready to bust with barely any contact. He wasn’t a difficult man when it came to sex, but you were making him and easy one. Easy to please and ruin. The kind that would only ever find pleasure in his hand because the girl of his dreams was too far away from him.
You spread your thighs even wider, giving him space to dive in and rub his nose wherever he wanted. You skin was as soft as those fucking shorts, so tender and easy to mark. He inhaled your scent and quickly kissed your inner thigh tenderly. You looked down on him and your cunt quivered when both your eyes met. He kept kissing you, so gentle and sweet, you felt like you were made of fine china. You could feel his tongue lick off the wetness that had dripping down your legs earlier.
Without paying much attention, you found yourself running a hand through his hair tenderly. He groaned loudly, trying to keep in his moans. You could hear the sound of his cock going back and forth into his hand as he fucked his fist at an increasing speed. The contrast between the eagerness from earlier and your sudden tenderness gave you whiplash and you felt dizzy all of the sudden, but you couldn’t on the opportunity to keep watching him pleasure himself.
“You like that huh ? You like watching me fuck my hand in front of you ? Making me go crazy and now you’re all sweet and gentle.” He groaned, his voice sounding strained.
You were quickly brought back to the initial state of things when his lips were replaced by his teeth and you felt a new kind of pain, the pleasurable kind. The sharp pain you felt when he took bit your inner thigh only made your insides wetter and your mind fuzzier. You were breathing loudly, letting the feeling pass while he stood up. His warm hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer to his exposed cock.
“Open up. And keep your eyes on me. I want you to show me exactly what you feel with your eyes, okay Sunshine ? You’re going to show me how good you feel gagging on my cock.” He ordered with a playful grin.
You obeyed mindlessly, opening your mouth and letting his cock slide in, rubbing your tongue slowly and letting you taste him. You moved to get on your knees on the bed and help onto his waist, your eyes never looking away from his. He caressed your nape as a silent praise, you were truly ready to let him do whatever he chose to do.
You had slept with men before, but none could rival with Mitch and his size. The feeling of being so full, you might explode, you now knew it. His bulbous tip pushed into the back of your throat, making you tear up at the slight lose of air. You tried to adjust but no matter what, he would be too big to fit. Probably seeing the dilemma in your eyes, he smiled tenderly and caressed your cheek.
“It’s okay Sunshine, don’t force yourself too much. Take your time and do what you want with me. I just want to see how you react to it, okay ?” His smile made your heart swoon, this man would kill you.
Starting off slow, you quickly lost yourself in the pleasure you felt from having him in your mouth. You dug your nails in his flesh, pushing him further down your throat as your sucked on his thick length as if no one was watching. He felt so big, you would suffocate at any wrong move, but none of that mattered when your body only wanted his cum to fill your stomach. You wanted to feel all that thick cum drip down your throat and fill you up like you’ve never been filled before. You wanted to have the memories and the remnants of his presence inside you.
You were going faster and faster, your soft lips wrapping nicely around his girth and sucking on his flesh with all you had. The sounds of suction were flooding your head as well as the sounds he was making, his groans and slight desperate whisperers making your pussy wetter than ever. You needed more, his cock wasn’t enough, you needed all of him inside you.
You tried to suck him deeper than your body allowed, feeling his invade your entire being. If you could see yourself, eyes crossed and fingers gripping on him as you grinded against your bedsheets, begging for pleasure as if you’d been deprived for years. It wasn’t necessarily wrong, you had been deprived by your incapacity to feel lust. But now you could feel and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.
Mitch watched attentively, basking in the pleasure you felt and made him feel. Those lips, he dreamt of them, but seeing you suck his dick like it was your mission on Earth did something vile to his brain. He gripped on your nape and started meeting your movements, pushing himself into your mouth in sync with you. You were quick to respond with loud moans, all of them echoing around his cock.
You giving him your all and even more than what he had asked for. He could see you enjoying yourself and begging for more. Quickly, the gurgling sounds of your drool filled your mouth and dripped to the side, all over your chin. This was the vision. He couldn’t control himself anymore, letting himself truly fuck your mouth full of him.
Soon, you weren’t moving anymore, the man in front of you doing all the work as he fucked your throat into oblivion and made sure to use you as much as he could. The sounds of his sack hitting your face filled the room and resonated around with your muffled moans and his own groans of pleasure.
“Fuck, feel that Sweetheart ? Feel his deep I am ? Bet you can barely breath… Fuck, that’s it, that’s good baby, that’s good… You’re taking my cock so good… I gotta cum Sweets… I needa cum in that pretty throat… You’ll let me huh ? You’ll let me fill your belly up with me ? Might cover your face too… Yeah, I’ll cover you pretty face…” He sounded close to cumming and you had never been so eager before to being covered in cum, but this wasn’t anyone. This was Mitch, and you’d only take it from him.
Your body felt like jello when he pulled your face closer to his lower stomach, your nose grazing his pelvis. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you felt his spend fill up your insides. He pulled out to cover your face, like promised and watched the white substance drip all over your skin. He stayed still, grabbing the base of his cock on one hand, and his balls in the other, rubbing his tip over your lips and smeared his cum on your skin.
When he was done, he admired you, looking as pretty as ever on your knees, nipples as hard as diamonds as they poked through the fabric of your top, legs shaking softly and your eyes looking dazed and confused. You looked up to him and swallowed every drop of cum in your mouth, licking as much as you could off of your face. He grinned, grabbing your jaw and cleaning his cum off of your face with his thumb before stuffing it in your mouth. You eagerly licked it off and swallowed proudly. He leaned down to kiss your lips tenderly, feeling a sudden surge of romanticism running through his body. You responded by grabbing his shoulders softly and kissed him back, a soft sob coming out of you.
The kiss was as tender as it looked, delicate, as if he was trying not to hurt you of spook you after the multiple previous events. He pulled away, smiling honestly when you moaned in displeasure, holding onto him tighter and pursing yor lips for one more kiss. You wanted more kisses, you needed more.
“Please Mitch… Just one more…” You begged, and fuck, he knew he was absolutely gone for you but not that badly. He was ready to fold as soon as his name came out of your mouth, ready to do whatever you desired.
“I’ll kiss you as much as you want Sunshine, I promise. There’s nothing more that I want. But first I wanna put my mouth over that sweet cunt of yours. It’s been calling my name for days now and I really need to taste you. You’ll let me ?” You nodded and he smiled, dropping to his knees again. “Then, undress for me Sweetheart. And take your time, I want to see it all. I need to carve it in my memory for the future.”
You obeyed like the good girl you had shown yourself to be earlier. You started with your top, throwing it on the floor and letting him admire your soft tits bounce at your movements. He wanted to have them in his mouth too now. You proceeded with your shorts, letting him see how truly soaked they were before you tossed them to the side. You bent sat on the bed and parted your legs open for him to truly take you in.
He licked his lips, rubbing his fingers over your folds and pressing your clit with his thumb. The little yelp that followed fell straight down his girth, standing straight and ready for the next parts. You covered your mouth and he glared at you, prompting you to obediently take your hands off.
“Don’t ever try and cover your sounds. I want to hear all you have to say, always. Do you hear me ?”
“Y-Yes… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, you’re still new to this. Don’t apologize for doing something without thinking or instinctively.”
The softness in his voice was still making your insides melt, but so were his words. He understood how you worked and responded accordingly. This was a first for you, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Tell me when it gets too much, okay ?” He ordered.
You nodded, waiting eagerly for him to do what he had in mind.
Without wasting anymore second, he pushed two fingers between your folds, making you sob in pleasure. You looked down on him and crossed his gaze while he stayed still, he was waiting for you. You took a deep breath before nodding, ready for him to proceed. You had the time to prepare yourself for more and you did good doing so, his thumb pressing on your clit and making your entire body jerk in surprise. Who would’ve expected you to be so sensitive ?
You covered you mouth as a reflex, surprised by the obscene sounds coming out of your own mouth. You’d been quick to forget Mitch’s previous orders clearly, the man punishing you instantly by pulling his fingers out and spanking your pussy until it was swollen and leaking out of control, not that you had any in the first place. You could only cry out a little more at each slap, begging for him to stop but pushing yourself towards his fingers everytime he thought of stepping away.
“Sweetheart, I won’t be telling you again. Your hands, off of your pretty face. Or do you want me to tie you up ?” He watched you genuinely debate the proposition in your head and smiled tenderly. He got up and kneeled on the bed to lean towards your face before kissing your cheek. “I’ll remember that for next time, don’t burn your neurons trying to answer.”
You nodded slowly, feeling your heart thumping loudly at the thought of doing it again with him. You hadn’t even gone all the way yet that you were already excited for the next time.
You watched him get back on his knees and smile at you tenderly, as if that would soften the effects of what he was about to do to you. You wanted to respond to his smile with your own but quickly forgot the idea when his fingers slid back in you, this time to part you open. In an instant, you were twisting and shaking in pleasure, feeling his flat tongue lick a long strip along your dripping folds. He was looking at you, you could feel his eyes on you, but it didn’t matter, not when you felt like you’d pass out from this alone.
Your hand dove into his black curls, pulling on them at each new lick from him. You could feel his organ invade your insides and suck on your slick covered flesh, sucking in your juices loudly. Your moans and cries of pleasure echoed around the room, competing against the sounds he was making while buried between your beautiful legs. The soft burn of his facial hair made you entire body shake, the feeling the beard leaving marks along your sensitive core and inner thigh.
If you could see yourself right now, you’d understand why his actions became frantic and practically desperate. The view of your body, arched to perfection to give him a view of your tits while he devoured you was ruining any kind of control he found pride in having. His cock was as hard as stone, leaking heavy drops of cum and begging to empty itself inside you. He’d never been this weak before, this sensitive to anyone. You were truly going to be it for him and his entire body was embracing the idea of submitting itself to you.
Pulling a finger out of you, Mitch licked the slick off of it and rubbed it around your clit, smiling against your core when you wrapped your legs around his neck and tightened your hold on him. He could choke to death in that instant and would be perfectly fine with it, ready to die if it was by your hands, or by your thighs if we were being accurate.
He let you grip onto his scalp and hold him still, pushing his tongue inside you while you fucked yourself on his face shamelessly. He could feel your insides wrap around him and drip sweetness all in his mouth. He had never felt that much while going down on a woman, but here you were, pushing him to his limits, making him moan praises and pleas for you to keep using him.
“M-Mitch ! Fuck, Mitch, God… I-I…” You tried to express what he already knew, feeling you pull away from him. Absolutely not, Mitch wasn’t having it. Not when you were right there, ready to pop. There was no way he was going to let you waste another opportunity for him to taste and smell you keep your scent etched into his growing beard.
He wrapped his large hands around your thighs and held you tight and as close as humanly possible to his face, letting you right your high on him. It took everything in him to not cum on the spot , God, you were killing him.
For the first time ever, you felt the pleasure of cumming with a man’s tongue pushed deep inside you. You felt like your organs were exploding in thousands of little fireworks, burning everything in their way slowly while you could only quiver and cry out for more. You could feel Mitch suck in your cum and feast on your sensitive core while you tried your best to survive what had just happened. Your legs felt like jello, deprived of strength and hanging loosely around the man’s shoulders in defeat.
In a sudden boost of submissiveness, you let out a little sound of pleasure, and ran your hand along your thighs and stomach before reaching your breasts that you squeezed vigorously. You knew he was watching, God, his gaze and attention was the only thing you wanted at the moment. You wanted him to watch you pleasure yourself to the memories of him and his tongue inside your pussy, already giving up freedom to give yourself to him. How addictive was sexual pleasure when you could actually fell it, right ?
While you played with your tits, pressing and pinching your sensitive nipples, his hands gripped on your but, tightening his hold around you possessively. A part of him had just started to wonder where you had learned such things. To him, you were still the girl he met through his annoying sister. Young and beautiful, taking shit from no one, and considered difficult by too many people to fond a boyfriend who would actually be worthy of her feelings and emotions.
She must’ve learned these things somewhere, with someone. Multiple someones even. And that thought made his blood boil and his ego fly up at the speed of a rocket. His long cock couldn’t stop vibrating at the thought of marking you inside out, making your pretty pussy as his and marking himself as yours.
To busy in his thoughts, scheming his little plan, he hadn’t noticed your eyes on him, and what you said next gave him what felt like a heart attack.
With your legs parted wide and your eyes barely opened, either out of exhaustion or lust (or both), you have him another look at your pussy, taking a life of its own and opening up under his insistant gaze.
“Mister Firefighter... Are you going to fuck me now ? I want to feel your cum drip inside my pussy… She wants a taste of you too…”
Mitch Rapp wasn’t a believer. Fairytails and hold folklore and mystical creatures, he didn’t care about them. But in that moment, you gave him the proof that sirens existed and that he was about to lose his life to one.
The next seconds turned into a blur, either because of how fast the events went or because you had managed to unlock pure desperation out of Mitch. He was quick in him movements, jumping on the bed and placing himself between your legs. He was already holding your wrists, pinned them to the mattress and kissed you as if his life depended on it. His tongue felt warm in your mouth, exploring all the surfaces in you and swallowing your soft moans at the same time.
Tasting your plump lips again, but more thoroughly this time, his body moved too. You could feel him rub the thick tip of his cock along your folds, smearing the drops of cum leaking out of him all over your gaping cunt.
His mouth descended towards your neck, biting pieces of flesh and sucking on the on his way down. His real target were your tits, soft sweet, ready to be devoured too. Mitch was slowly getting closer to a beast than a man with you under him. He’d never felt this kind of hunger before, desperate to taste all of you. He looked into your eyes, thinking about it for a second before dropping his face in the crook of your neck in a chuckle. He kissed on your skin tender, his fingers playing with your nipples as well.
You watched him kiss the valley of your breast and leave bite marks around your flesh. Your body was covered in them now. Just a little more and you might’ve actually been eaten alive. He grinded against you, both centers of your body heating up on the other and ready to truly feel it. His lips quickly found the center of your chest and sucked on them, his eyes entirely on your body while yours were on him.
Your hand found his hair again, caressing it tenderly while he enjoyed himself. It was supposed to be about studying your feelings and emotions but looked like Mitch was lost in his own. You pulled him away from your breasts, still breathing out little moans when his fingers went back to doing the work.
“Please Mitch… Don’t want to cum without you inside me… Please…” You pleaded softly, trying to form a coherent sentence while you could feel his throbbing cock begging for the same.
He caressed your face and smiled, sliding his hand around your neck and squeezing in a possessive grip.
“See what you do to me Sweetheart ? This was supposed to be about you but fuck… Fuck, I need to taste all of you… I have too many ideas for you, too much shit I want to do…” You exhaled, looking down on his own length and guiding the tip to play with your swollen folds. He kept teasing for a few seconds, enjoying the sounds you made when desperate, before stopping and leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry Sunshine. You’ll get fucked properly in a second, I’m just making a list of what we’re trying out next.”
Your nod was instantly replaced by a gasp and your entire body shaking in a second. You looked down, seeing his fat cock push inside your dripping hole and felt yourself melt from the inside out. His width kept expanding, pushing your walls further apart. Despite being still, raised straight and holding your legs apart, you could feel his girth mold your pussy around him. He was truly ruining you flr everyone else.
When your breathing slowed down, he pulled out slowly, chuckling when you cried out in displeasure. His hand found your cheek to caress it tenderly before stuffing his tongue between your lips out of nowhere.
He repeated the motion, pulling out of you and sliding back in slowly before picking up a rhythm, the kind that left you speechless. As he started fucking into you, the sounds of his thighs slapping against yours started resonating louder and louder.
“M-Mitch ! Feels so… So good ! P-Please ! Please more ! More !” You moaned, your hands gripping on the sheets as if you were scared of falling down without them.
His own fingers dug into your soft flesh, his cock pounding harder into you each time you’d let him hear how good he made you feel. The sound of his name coming out of your mouth in the most obscene of symphony wasn’t just a boost to his ego, it all went straight to his heart and into his dick. There was something deadly about the vision of you, laying under him, taking his abuse of your pussy to perfection.
He leaned back, watching the way your pussy would swallow him whole, taking every inch of him and begging for more. None of his dreams could even compete with having you really here. He couldn’t even count the amount of time he’d dreamt of fucking you, no, making love to you. It could possibly be expected from a teenager, hell he even dreamt that his hands were yours when he needed relief. But a grown man having wet dreams about his sister’s best friend on her knees for him, that had to be weird.
“Good, Sunshine, good girl… Taking me to perfection… Greedy little pussy, you just wanted me to fuck you silly huh Sweetheart ? Wanted to feel my cock buried all the way inside your tiny body huh ? You needed me to make you feel better than good, answer me.” He groaned into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and moving your body at however he pleased.
“Y-Yes ! Yes, God, yes ! Yes, yes ! M-Make… Make me feel ! Please !” You sobbed, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly.
Better than a simple display of strength, Mister Firefighter was treating your body like it was made of plastic, light and ready to be filled to the brim. Was he crazy for wanting to see his cum drip down your thighs ? Maybe, maybe not. All he knew is that he’d give you exactly what you were asking for.
Moving your body effortlessly, he spun you around, laying you flat on your chest and raising your hips while he grabbed handfuls of your ass to guide you under him. He looked down on you, his hand caressing your exposed back and your nape. With your face buried in the pillows, back arched and presenting yourself to him, he knew he wouldn’t last long.
He leaned over you, moving his hand from your hips to your swaying breast that he grabbed and played with, squeezing vigorously. Raised your head, turning it slightly and facing him. His nose rubbed your cheek, inhaling your scent just like he was used to.
His breathing was loud and so were his soft moans of pleasure. He kissed you, as passionately as before, all the sounds coming from your body being swallowed by the other. You pulled away to breath in, your head getting cloudier by the second.
“Mitch, Mitch, Mitch, fuck ! Fuck, I-… I…”
He heard and understood you, being in a similar situation himself. His kisses on your neck started again, his warm palm founding your stomach and pressing into it. There it was, the feeling of his tip invading your entire being. He fucked into you harder, the sounds of his sack slapping against your cunt and probably making it even more sensitive. He was ruthless, fucking you like he had years of repressed desires to make up for.
He stood straight, still pounding the life out of your dripping pussy, and grabbed your ass again, parting it wide and viewing the way his cock would come in and out. If he could, he’d take pictures or even paint them himself from memory. There was no way he’d forget that vision now.
“I’m cumming too Sunshine… I’ll fill you up real nice, I promise…” He swore, throwing his head back and pushing himself just a little more, his release getting closer and closer.
“Yes, yes, yes ! Please, please give me ! Give me your cum Mitch, please ! Oh, God ! F-Feels so good ! Oh fuck ! Fuck, fuck, fuck !”
You were losing your mind, his balls slapping your sensitive skin and even reaching your clit. You were desperate for more, starved for it, so much so that you had even started pushing yourself towards him, meeting his thrusts and parting your legs even wider.
“My greedy little cum slut, fuck, I can’t… Can’t hold it Sweetheart…” He grunted loudly, making your pussy vibrate in submission around him.
Then, it came. The flood. For the first time, in your life, and the second (or third, your brain was too fuzzy to keep up) time tonight, you came around him while he was cumming into you. Hard and messy, you both coated the other of your arousal. It felt hot and was truly sipping through each corner of your insides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you collapsed into the pillows and took in every drop he let out inside you.
His own girth was getting soaked by your sweet juices. He watched his cum spill out of you and drip down your inner thighs, just like he had dreamt. He watched you, mesmerized by your submissiveness, his member jerking back to life when you tightened around him. He kept going back and forth into your canal, making sure that his cum wouldn’t go to waste.
You turned your face towards him, reaching for his lower stomach weakly. He groaned, smiling tenderly when you scraped his chest attempting to get him to stay still and with you. Your legs were still shaking and
“You need more already Sunshine ? Barely able to think straight and you already want more huh ?” He mocked playfully. You hid your face in the pillows and it was his turn to swoon internally. He leaned over your back, teasing you by slowly rolling his hips. “Don’t worry Sunshine. Mister Firefighter is going to give you as muck cock as you want.”
~
Mitch truly was a man of his words, and he was also a cuddler. After rounds after rounds, you had finally decided to stop, or at least, kind if stop.
Still buried deep inside you, he caressed your sides while you laid still and silent on top of his chest. After you had shown him you could ride him like a mechanic bull, he couldn’t let you escape that easily. His fingers felt good on you, soothing all of the pain you could feel. He did admit going a little too hard on you, but your face when overstimulated just… Irresistible.
You purred into the crook of his neck, kissing his collarbones and biting on them when you had the strength. You were content, you knew it, that was what joy felt like and you knew it thanks to the man kissing the crown of your head tenderly.
“I hope you’re aware that I’m not tolerating anymore running away Sweets. I’ll chase you all over the world if I have too. Be warned.”
You chuckled, raising yourself slightly to face him. You smiled, taking hold of his face and kissing his nose.
“You told me you loved me thirty minutes ago and you’re already okay with following me around the world ?”
“Obviously. I loved you since high school if you don’t remember. I was just waiting for you to stop running away here.”
“And all it took was for my workplace to catch on fire. Nice.” You mumbled against his chest.
You both laid there, in silence. Basking in the comfortable loving bubble you had both built around each other. Yeah, you were great.
“By the way, be careful when calling me Mister Firefighter. I might do something crazy like fuck you in uniform.”
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Fresh Air (Dylan O'Brien)
Author's Notes: Thank you all for the love, support and patience you've shown me while I've been on a hiatus. You voted for Dylan to be my first story back, and I hope this does not disappoint.
Warnings: Drinking, swearing, references to drug use, sexual references - sexual innuendos (*established relationship - unprotected sex, semi public sex, pet names, fingers, lots of kisses!)
Requested? Nope. Requests are closed
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you xoxo
The colour she had painted her lips was beyond distracting. It was the same colour she had worn the very first night they ever kissed, and it wasn't lost on him. He was way more observant than she gave him credit for. Soft, glossy, pink and with a few sparkles. It drove him wild making him think about her lips all over his, messy and frantic as they kissed in the front seat of his Audi.
Dylan licked his lips subconsciously to satisfy his need to kiss her. The alcohol flooded his head and swam in his veins as he flicked his cigarette into the street then walked over to her.
"Young lady, you have two options. Another drink and a dance or I take you home." Dylan muttered with a little nip to her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Why would I want to go home?" She questioned with a furrowed brow as she turned in his arms to face him.
"Sweetie." Dylan growled with a curl of his upper lip as he slid his hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
She raised her eyebrows as she realized what he meant, his hands squeezing her backside and pulling her close. She tossed an arm around his neck and toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling him shiver.
"I'll let you take me home, Dylan." She whispered as she pressed her forehead to his, rubbing their noses together.
"Your lips look so pretty tonight, sweetie." Dylan muttered as he reached a hand up to thumb at her bottom lip gently, doing his best to not smudge her paint.
"Thank you." She smiled as she pressed her lips to the pad of his thumb.
They got home, but didn't make it inside. Dylan was sober enough to drive, but not enough to control his urge to kiss her like a teenager left to his own devices. He parked the car and grabbed her hips, tugging her over the console and into his lap.
"Baby!" She laughed as he bit her chin and along her neck, his hands filled with her backside as he pulled her close.
"You're so fucking pretty." Dylan muttered into the crease of her neck before he sunk his teeth into her skin, making her gasp. He pushed his hands up the back of her shirt, desperate to feel her skin beneath his palms.
"What did you drink tonight, baby?" She hummed as she pushed her hands into his hair while she rolled her hips on top of his, letting him nibble on her neck and collarbone.
"Just like, two beers. Did smoke a bit, though. Shared a blunt with the guys." Dylan grumbled as he licked her skin where he had bit her while his thumbs flicked her bra clasp.
"Blunts make you a big baby." She smiled, letting him unhook her bra beneath her shirt and fill his hands with her breasts.
"Didn't always. Now I smoke them and it makes me think of you, and us. Getting high together and touching, having sex. You're so cute and soft. Just fucking love you." Dylan muttered as he thumbed her nipples.
"Liar. First time we smoked together you were all over me. Touching, snuggling and kissing. And we hadn't even gone out on an official date yet. You were nothing but hands, O'Brien." She teased with a tug of his hair.
"You make me feel needy. Can't help it." Dylan breathed out as he removed his teeth from her neck and rested his head back on the seat rest.
"It's not a bad thing. It's just funny how you were so respectful to me when I came over that night, and then the minute we lit up you had your hands on some part of my body. I liked it." She smiled breathlessly as he ran his fingertips through the waistband of her jeans toward the button.
"Yeah? What else did you like about that night?" He hummed as he aimlessly toyed with the button of her jeans, never opening them.
"The way you looked at me, how you said my name then started calling me sweetie. When you played with my hair, and wrapped us in that blanket. Then when you kissed me." She breathed out, squirming around on top of him from the tension between them. But she was confined between him, and the steering wheel, Dylan had all the control just how he liked it.
"I remember all of that, too. It was nice. You pulled my hair and called me baby when we were kissing. I was done for, and I think that's when it probably started. The whole, blunts make Dylan a big baby thing. Makes me think of that." Dylan smirked as he flicked open the button of her jeans and pulled down the zipper.
"Should we go in the house, baby?" She whispered as she pressed her fingertips to his neck, lips brushing over his while he reached a hand inside her jeans.
"Nope."
Dylan watched her eyes flutter shut as he pulled her panties to the side and brushed his fingertips through her folds. He hummed softly as he felt her drip, circling her clit and watching her chew on her bottom lip.
"In..oh...in the Audi?" She panted as he rolled her clit with his thumb and pressed at her entrance gently with the tip of his middle finger.
"Only if you want to." Dylan mumbled with a kiss to her chin as he eased his finger inside of her.
"Big needy baby." She breathed out with a pull of his hair, dropping her forehead to his.
"For you." Dylan smirked with a little twist of his finger inside of her, making her whimper and pout her lips against his.
Dylan has vowed to himself, and silently to her that he would be respectful. Not get too hands on despite how much he liked her and would have enjoyed seeing what was beneath her clothes. Slow, and respectful. He could do that.
"Stop. Stop. This is painful to watch." Dylan laughed as he watched the object of his affection attempt to roll their blunt for the evening. She said she could never do it, so he told her to try. And try she did.
"My fingers don't work this way!" She giggled as she held the paper haphazardly rolled with weed.
"Give this to me. I'll help you, sweetie." He grinned as he gently took the paper from her and easily rolled it between the tips of his fingers. He felt her watching him as he licked the paper, sealing the edges and twisting the top. He handed it back to her with a smile - all done.
"You're good at that." She whispered, face warm from watching his fingers and the new nickname he had given her. He only ever called her by her first name, respectfully so.
"Had a bit of practice." Dylan laughed softly with a nervous rub to the back of his neck.
The smoke filled the back patio beneath the large tree, the two of them inching closer and closer as the blunt ashed down. By the time it was done, she was curled into his side underneath his arm as they chatted happily.
"Cold?" Dylan muttered as he traced his fingertips over her arm, shivers beneath him as he went.
"A little." She nodded as she shifted closer to him.
Dylan reached behind them and grabbed a blanket pulling it over their legs and chest. He thumbed at her chin, smiling at her hazy eyes and relaxed face.
"Better?" He whispered as he eyed her lips, the pretty glossy paint a little smudged from the blunt paper but still incredibly enticing. He found himself playing with the ends of her hair, twisting the soft, smooth tresses around his fingers aimlessly.
"Yeah. Nice and warm now." She nodded with a smile, her own hand reaching out to touch his facial hair.
"Good. Your hair is so soft, really shiny." Dylan muttered as he continued to twirl her hair around his fingers, exhaling heavily through his nostrils at the feeling of her fingers on his face.
"Thank you. I like your beard." She smiled as she thumbed his chin.
"Thanks, sweetie." Dylan laughed softly as he brushed her hair over her shoulder, letting her touch his face.
"You smell really good, and you're warm." She breathed out as she shifted closer to him beneath the blanket.
Dylan uttered a, come here and took hold of her hips to pull her onto his lap. He placed his hands on her thighs, feeling her soft skin beneath his palms. He moaned softly as she leaned forward and gently scratched his facial hair along his jawline.
"Feels good." He mumbled as he moved his hands along her thighs, and took hold of her backside over her shorts.
"Your hands feel nice, too."
Dylan shivered, feeling tingles in his scalp and down his spine at her soft omission. He gripped her backside a little firmer, fingertips digging into her flesh over her shorts to pull her closer. He leaned in just a little, closing the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers for the very first time. Dylan worked his fingers into her hair as they kissed, her fingertips pressed to his jawline as she whimpered into his mouth making him feel wild for her.
"Dylan." She whispered against his lips as she moved her hands to the back of his neck.
"Sweetie " Dylan grumbled as he pushed his own hands up the back of her shirt. He kissed the corners of her mouth as his thumbs caressed her back, loving how she curled her body into his.
"Kiss me again." She begged softly as she pressed her forehead to his.
Dylan did as requested of him, kissing her lips and slowly slipped his tongue in her mouth while he kept a hand on her back inside of her shirt. His moan matched hers as his tongue explored her mouth, their hands all over each other. He slid his hands into the back pockets of her shorts and grabbed her backside, pulling her even closer to him.
"Watch your hips." Dylan muttered into their kiss, his hands gripping her sides to cease her back and forth movement. It wasn't that he didn't like it, he did.
"M'sorry." She blushed as she pulled away from him slightly, chewing her bottom lip.
"No, no. It's not like that. It's just that I promised myself I would take it slower with you. And these hips are making it a little difficult. It's not that I don't like it. I do." Dylan muttered as he eased them down to the outdoor couch, positioning himself between her legs as he thumbed her chin and reclaimed dominance.
"Why slow? And why me?" She questioned as she pulled at the small gold chain around his neck.
"Because I like you, a lot. And sometimes I have a tendency to take this fast and not ruin it with sex, but get there too quick without a foundation." Dylan explained with a soft sigh, looking over her pretty face.
"I'm just happy to have you kiss me, and be close to me." She breathed out as she pulled her nails gently down his chest, making him smile.
She had coaxed Dylan out of the Audi, and got him back into the house. He didn't make it passed the foyer, though. His shirt off, and pants around his ankles.
"C'mon, sweetie." Dylan groaned as he palmed himself over his boxers, pinning his half naked girlfriend to the table at the front door. Her shorts were long since discarded into the backseat of his car, her bra undone under her shirt.
"Baby." She hummed as he pulled off her shirt then slid her bra off her arms, his lips leaving a trail of kisses from either elbow back up to between her breasts and her neck.
"Bed is too far." Dylan grumbled into her neck as he grabbed her thighs and lifted her up onto the small table then wrestled her panties down her legs. He dropped his boxers to his ankles as he kissed up to the sweet spot beneath her ear, breathing a smile as she sunk her nails into his back.
"I don't trust this table, Dylan."
"Trust me though, right?" Dylan muttered as he pressed his forehead to hers and dropped his eyes down to watch himself touch her entrance with his tip. A groan rattled around in his chest as he soaked himself in her, teasing them both as he waited for her go ahead.
"With my life." She nodded as she rested her head back against the wall.
"I've got you. Won't let you fall." Dylan exhaled as he eased inside of her, taking hold of her thighs as he settled inside of his love. His lips made their way to hers for a messy kiss as he bottomed out, her walls sucking him in.
"Baby." She moaned out loud with a deep scratch to his back.
"I know." Dylan cooed. He pulled his hips back then snapped them forward, the small table rocking beneath them as he picked up his pace. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, his fingertips pressing into her thighs.
"I love you, Dylan." She breathed out against his temple. After the night he had, after the smoke in his lungs altering his consciousness and the tension between them he couldn't help himself. He sealed his lips to her shoulder and with a firm thrust finished inside of her, thankful to feel her nails pull down his back as she fell with him.
"I love you, too."
..
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