#dylan o’brien one shot
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Faithie’s Fic Finding Corner:
Ok y’all I need your help…
Back when I was younger and still reading on Wattpad I came across this Fic where Stuart twombly and the reader were together. The reader was on her period and just cuddling with him on the couch. She gets annoyed with everything that’s going on so she sticks her headphones in her ears and starts to paint on her paint app. She then hears Nick says something about calling Stuart Stewie and he says “Stuart, never Stewie,” and Nick is all confused and says “but she called you it. Why can she and I can’t?” And Stuart response was “because she came up with it,”. Then Stuart gets up along with the reader like he just knows that she’s in pain and takes her home.
Anyway when I found that one I absolutely adored it. When I first found it I think it was titled “never Stewie,” idk though it’s been a really long time since I’ve read it. But recently I got an idea when thinking about that fic and I’d really like to read it again for some inspiration on the fic I plan to write.
But… sadly I can’t find it anywhere anymore. So could you all possibly help me out and let me know if you know where to find it or if it’s still up? Or like if it’s gone?
It would mean the world to me if someone could either find it or the author, because I absolutely loved that one back when I first started writing my own work.
#stuart twombly x reader#stuart twombly imagines#stuart#dylan o’brien x reader#dylan o’brien imagine#dylan o’brien one shot#dylan o'brian imagine#dylan o’brien#dylan obrien#dylan obrien amazing stories#dylan rhodes o'brien#dylan rhodes
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Motel Fever
𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀
𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗦𝗻𝗮𝗽 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗜𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗗𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!
𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗳!
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan from beside Allison, taking a look at the disaster coach calls a motel.
“I’ve seen worse.” Scott says, and I scoff. “Where have you see worse?” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. I pull my jacket closer to my body, trying to shield myself from the wind the storm brings.
The track team circles up as Coach speaks up. “Listen up! The meet’s been pushed til tomorrow.” There’s a groan that comes from just about all of us in unison at that. “This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of…degenerates like yourselves. You’ll be pairing up, choose wisely.”
Me and Allison walk up and grab a key from Coach, checking out the number and practically stomping to our room. Scott and Stiles close behind us.
“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” Coach shouts as everyone makes their way to their rooms for the night.
“I can’t believe this. How much you wanna bet we wake up to a cancelled track meet tomorrow.” I complain, approaching our motel room, which is oh so conveniently right next to Scott and Stiles’ 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.
I stop at the door, waiting for Allison to unlock it, but she’s taking her sweet time chatting it up with Scott. Stiles whips past me, brushing my shoulder.
“Hey Stiles, will you and Scott do me a favor and keep the moans down tonight. I would rather not listen to you two get in on while I get my beauty sleep.” I taunt him, leaning against the door, burning time while I wait for Allison.
Stiles halts his actions of unlocking his door to turn to me, “Didn’t you hear the coach, Y/N? ‘𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.’ Or is that word too big for you? Need me to dumb it down?” He jabs and I scoff in his face.
“Oh I heard him all right. I just wonder if you did.” I counter, watching as he scoffs, tongue poking out to glide over his teeth.
“We’ll be quiet, Y/N/N. Besides, I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep; God knows you need it.” He says, and before I can come up with a comeback, Allison is coming up behind me and unlocking our door.
Scott passes us both and bypasses Stiles into their room, “Sleep tight, Y/N.” Stiles sneers before disappearing behind Scott.
I join Allison in our room, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I hope you don’t kick in your sleep, or someone’s gonna sleep on the floor tonight and it won’t be me.” I say, looking at the single bed in the middle of the dreary room.
“About that…” Allison says, her face already completely giving away what she’s about to tell me.
“Allison,” I warn her, and she trots in front of me with pleading eyes. “Would you do me a huge, huge favor and switch with Scott tonight?” She begs, and I’m completely and utterly in shock.
“You cannot be serious. You want me, to share a room, a 𝘣𝘦𝘥, with 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴?!” I try to wrap my head around the idea of having to survive a night with Stiles Stilinski. Yeah right, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.
“Yeah, no, no way in hell!” I shout, hands flailing in the air. “Have you even met me?!” I ask, baffled that she’d even think that I’d ever agree to such a thing. “I mean? have you even met Stiles?! I can’t stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone hours!” I exclaim.
“Then don’t stand him, sit on him instead.” Allison says, the tone in her voice suggestive. I scoff, “Yeah right, me and Stiles? Never in a million years.” I say, the idea completely out of the question.
“Oh come on, Y/N! You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife! You guys just need to fuck and make up.” Allison tries to convince me, and I’m trying to deny the pit in my stomach that tells me she might be right.
“Allison you’re crazy. There’s no tension between Stiles and I.” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Oh please, Y/N! Please, please, pleaseeeee!” She begs, not backing down.
I groan out, “Alright! Alright! But you owe me big time for this.” I finally give in, and Allison pounces onto me to give me a tight hug.
“Y/N you won’t regret this, I’m texting Scott now.” She says giddily, and I change into my pajamas while we wait for Scott.
After a few minutes, there’s a knock at our door, and I open it to reveal a just-as-giddy Scott McCall. “Y/N,” He greets me with a tight lipped smile. “Scott.” I answer, brushing passed him and out the door.
It’s dark, rainy, and cold outside. I stand in front of Stiles’ motel room, shivering in my pajama shorts and matching t-shirt. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still nothing.
“Stiles I know this isn’t the most pleasant arrangement but it’s freezing outside, please let me in.” I plead, my teeth chattering. Still nothing. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the drops of rain.
I sigh, sliding my back down against the door, sitting down on the cold cement. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.
Then suddenly, the door is pulled open without warning and I look up to see a half naked Stiles. “What’re you doing?” He asks, looking down at me as I scurry up and onto my feet. “Waiting for you to let me in, dumbass. It’s cold out here.” I chatter, pushing past his naked upper half and into the room.
The room is ice cold, not any better than outside in the elements. Stiles rolls his eyes coming back into the room and locking the door behind him.
I turn to him to ask why the heater isn’t on when he beats me to it. “Yeah, well, the heater is broken to shit so it’s not much better in here.” He answers my unspoken question. I shake my head, sitting on the bed, head in my hands. “This cannot be happening right now.” I complain, more to myself than Stiles.
“You wanna complain some more, Y/N? Since you’re so good at it.” He jabs, padding to his bag, digging through it. I scoff in response, and it’s then that I look up and take real notice of him frame. 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, pulling me out of my daze. “Whatever, get some other desperate girl to be your paparazzi.” I reply, digging into my bag for my phone charger, but it’s nowhere to be found.
Stiles goes into the dinky bathroom to change, coming out to me huffing and puffing. “What is it now?” He asks irritated, emerging from the bathroom in plaid pajama pants and a navy blue t-shirt. “I think I left my fucking charger at home.” I groan, checking my phone percentage. 12%
He chuckles, getting snuggled into the single bed and plugging his phone in, rubbing it right in my face. He turns his phone to the side, putting on some tv show. I grab my bag off the bed and drop it to the floor, “Make some room will you?” I push his feet from above the covers, and he scoots a millimeter to the side.
I curse under my breath, jumping into the bed and shoving him over some as he watched his phone. “Jeez, Y/N/N. If you wanted to get in bed with me that bad you should’ve just said so.” Stiles quips, and I pull at the cold blanket to cover myself.
“Oh please, get over yourself. You’re the last person I’d ever want to be in bed with.” I roll my eyes, getting out my phone to distract myself from him until it inevitably dies.
We’re laying shoulder the shoulder. He’s holding up his phone as he watches Supernatural, and before long my phone is dead.
I set my phone on the nightstand to my right, then turning over to lay on my left side and watch his show. My face is millimeters away from his broad shoulder, and he turns his head to me, peering down.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, attention split between me and the phone. “My phone died, and I like Supernatural.” I say, my eyes flick from the screen to him.
“You like this? Scott hates it.” He says, turning his face back to his phone. Is he starting a normal conversation with me? What universe is this?
“Of course Scott hates it, he hates all things 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭.” I say, wiggling magic fingers in his face. He chuckles, “Yeah, guess it’s too close to home for him. I like it though, I like to think we’re like them.” He says, comparing him and Scott to Sam and Dean.
“So which one are you? Sam or Dean?” I ask, giggling. “Which one do you think I am?” Stiles ponders, his attention fully turned toward me by now. “Definitely Sam,” I answer confidently, “he’s my favorite.” I add, my eyes suddenly avoiding his own.
There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Stiles breaks it. “Awe, so you like me more than Scott?” He pokes fun at me, and I roll my eyes. “In your dreams, Stilinski. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you unless the situation was dire.” I counter, rolling over to my back, his phone long forgotten.
He turns it off, setting it on the nightstand on his side. “See that’s where you’re wrong.” He says, and the tone in the chilly room shifts. He sits up to almost hover over me. His face the closest it’s ever been to mine, and I can’t help but flicker my eyes from his to his lips and back again.
“I think you wanted this. I think you want me.” He says, voice huskier and hushed. “Stiles…” I can’t think of a witty response, I can’t think about anything besides his lips, and how impossibly close they are to my own.
“Say it. Tell me, Y/N.” He demands, a veiny hand dipping under the covers to slink down my thigh. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, short circuiting.
“Awe, fuck it.” I whisper, more to myself than him, closing the gap between us. Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and my hands shoot up to his neck, pulling him down to me.
He growls into my mouth, moving to now completely hover on top of me, my legs instinctively opening to make room for him. His arms prop himself up over me, and my hands explore his body, moving to slide up and under his shirt. I slowly push up his shirt til his sits up, pulling it off in one swoop.
He’s so fucking hot. My hands dance along his slightly defined abs, speckled like his face. “Like what you see?” He taunts, leaning back down over me to assault my neck with his lips. “Oh, bite me.” I snip, and he nips at my throat in response.
Stiles trails his nimble fingers up my shirt, but I stop him, pushing his chest until he’s off of me. I push him over to his back, straddling his waist to be on top. I settle myself into his lap, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I pull my shirt up and off my body, revealing myself to him. The cold nips at my now half naked frame, nipples perking up and gossebumps cover my body.
I shiver a little, “It’s so cold in here, Stiles.” I whisper, and he snakes a hand up my waist and all the way up to my neck, pulling my face down to his. “Don’t worry, baby,” He whispers seductively, “I’ll warm you up.”
Our lips meet once again, tongues fighting for dominance. I grind down into his lap, his boner prominently poking me beneath his pants. He moans deliciously into my mouth as I do so, hands slipping into my shorts, groping my ass.
I moan as he rocks me in his lap, “God, why did we wait so long for this?” I whispers, looking up at me with those auburn eyes. “Because we hate each other.” I answer breathlessly.
“I could never hate you, baby.”
Then he’s forcefully pushing me back over, hands dipping into the waist band or my sleep shorts, pulling them and my panties down in one go. He places a palm on each of my knees, spreading my legs apart. I’m now fully bare and at his mercy.
I moan in anticipation as he methodically kisses up my thigh, getting close and closer to my dripping heat. He then brings a finger to swipe through my folds, my slick covering his digit as it glistens. “All this and I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunts me.
“Stiles please,” I beg, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. “Please what? Use your words.” He says huskily. “Please Stiles, please touch me.” I plead.
Stiles licks a stripe through my folds, sending shivers sound my spine. His mouth attacks my heat, his tongue working wonders. Stiles is like a starved man, feeding on anything and everything he can get his hands on. Feasting upon me. He sends me over the edge almost immediately. My hands shoot down to his head, gripping his hair til my knuckles turn white.
Stiles detaches his lips from my clit, sitting up to his knees and standing up off the bed. He drops his pajama pants to the ground, before zipping over to his bag to retrieve a condom from it. He rushes back over to the bed, pulling his boxers off in an instant, kneeling onto the bed in front of you as he rolls the condom into his think length.
My fists grip the bed covers, watching as he lines his swollen tip with my entrance, teasing me with it. “Stiles,” I moan, and he slides himself in completely.
He hisses as he does so, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Stiles.” I moan out breathlessly. Stiles thrusts are hard, his rhythm unbearable. “Yeah, you like that?” He whispers, leaning down to me ear. His voice deep and husky, full of lust. His lips dip down to nip at my throat. “Yes, Stiles.” I moan, and I feel him smile against my kiss peppered skin.
“Awe, fuck.” Stiles drawls out into my ear, sitting up to his knees, still fucking me, his rhythm perfect. “Say my name.” He orders me, his hands gripping my hips as he pistons into me. I can barely take it.
Of course I do as he says. I moan his name, eyes rolling back, my mouth hung wide open as moans spill out of me. He slides a hand to my cunt, his thumb moving to circle my clit. He watches with hooded eyes where we meet as he fucks me senseless.
“Say it again.”
“Stiles.”
“Again.”
“𝘖𝘩 Stiles.”
“Yeah, you getting close? Do I fuck you that good? Say it.” He seethes, his dirty words rattling in my head. I’m breathless, the cold room now unbearably hot. “You fuck me so good, Sti.” I moan, the ball in the pit of my stomach tightening with every touch of his. His hand gripping my hip. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. His thumb pressing to my clit.
“Yeah? You like that, baby.” I can’t take it anymore. “Stiles,” I moan, my limbs restless, I can’t stay still. “Tell me.” He says, leaning down over me to envelope my lips in a wet, searing kiss. I moan as he parts, “I’m gonna cum, Stiles.”
“Then do it.”
I obey his every word, my release washing over like a wave. My back arches into him, and Stiles buckles down, chasing his nearing high. I’m just about to tell him I can’t take it anymore when he cums, spilling into the condom. His brows furrowing and his mouth agape. He lets out the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, I never want it to stop.
He pumps a few more times, riding out his high. “Oh, fuck.” He whispers, slowly pulling out of me. I moan as he does, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I’m sore now, I can’t even imagine how sore I’ll be tomorrow.
Stiles gets up from the bed, he quickly discards the condoms and pulls his boxers on. He pads to the bathroom, and I lay there for a minute not sure of what to do. I close my legs and watch as he comes back with a damp rag.
He comes back to me, kneeling on the bed in front of my closed legs. “Open.” He says, placing a hand on my knee to pry them open once more. He cleans me up, and I’m completely and utterly in shock. Did he really just do that? What have I been missing out on?
When he’s does, I sit up so our faces meet, and I peck his kiss swollen lips. “Thank you.” I whisper, and he hums in response, kissing me once more.
As he goes to the bathroom to put the rag away, I gather my scattered clothes from the floor, and I’m slipping them on as he comes back, hopping back into the bed.
It’s at this point that I’m not really sure what to expect now. Are we never gonna talk about this again? Are we just gonna hate each other and fuck on the side? I’m nervous to get back in bed with him.
“Come here.” Stiles mumbles, laying his arm out for me. I crawl into bed, snuggling into him. “Do we still hate each other?” I whisper. He says nothing, reaching om his other arm over to his nightstand.
“Here.” He says, handing me his phone charger.
!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!
“Jesus Stiles, turn it off.” I grumble, his alarm blaring in my ears. Stiles is dead asleep, how he’s able to sleep through his excruciating alarm? No idea.
I reach over him to grab his phone, hitting the snooze button. But before I put it down I see a text from none other than Scott, at 12:31 AM.
𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨
𝟏/𝟐𝟕/𝟐𝟒
#dylan obrien#stiles stilinski#teen wolf#stiles stilinski imagine#stiles stilinksi x reader#dylan obrien imagine#dylan obrien x reader#stiles stilinski smut#dylan o’brien#dylan obrien smut#stiles stilinksi fanfiction#stiles x reader#stiles stilinski one shot#stiles stilinski imagines#stiles smut#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan obrien masterlist#ponyboi
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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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Getting with Mitch Rapp HC's
After an intense who knows how long a bitch finally cracked and decided to write about Mitch Rapp since he’s a sweetie who doesn’t get talked about enough… like I been under the tag and I know writing takes so much time and effort so I decided to step tf in and give it a turn… bare with me
We all know after the death of Katrina this man went completely off grid, quit college, didn’t speak to his brother, went all in on avenging her on his own….. To take down a whole cell and the mastermind… yeah, white boy won’t shoot up a school, but will become an almost martyr (he’s what the govt would deadass hire, and keep on rotation)
ANYWAYS
I dead do feel like Mitch would we cautious, wary, and sus as hell with a civilian s/o
Let’s unpack: this man after Katrina probably wasn’t seeing anyone after that being emotionally scarred and whatnot (maybe he had to fuck someone or a few for the sake of a mission or kiss them, but it was just business). So the likelihood of this man entertaining someone else like with intention and not just some one fuck wonder is gonna be crazy ngl. This man has to look over his shoulder and his trust issues got trust issues, like his energy on a regular basis doesn’t scream “stay away”
But anyway, to catch his attention I feel like would be by constantly meeting him in mundane situations. I’m not doing the whole “you’re partners” trope, my black ass isn’t in this luv
Laundry room in the apartment and y’all get clothes mixed in on accident and you end up with his shirt or something— or the age old tale of him getting your underwear…. Or y’all shifting through the mixed laundry picking out what’s yours lmfaoooo
Mail getting dropped off in the wrong box or something
Bumping into each other at the grocery store and Mitch has the bare necessities in his basket and yours is like girl dinner coded
And the thing is, he’s not necessarily rude in interactions (when him throwing knives and punching his punching bag got loud and the person who owned the building asked Mitch to keep it down, and Mitch was respectful and said sure…. He’s not an asshole) but he might be on edge and try to speed things up
I feel like what might get the ball rolling might be a few different things: him seeing someone following you home that he KNOWS doesn’t live in his building (ik this man recognized everyone who lives in that bitch), being catcalled aggressively while walking home, seeing you stay in your car because a sus ass person is waiting for you to get out your car so he comes up to your window to help you out, or some comment about a terrorist attack “shoutout to terrorists, bc the US when to Afghanistan saw all this oil and snatched their chain. “We” (bc ain’t no WE here) snatch their chain and they retaliate, then we yell “it’s the Muslims” to spark a debate
Ngl he’s gonna have to let you cook with that one bc I feel like the “shoutout to terrosits” would’ve had that man spiraling and attacking you immediately. IK that man would spazz on the spot…. So let’s keep it to the safer options hm?
Soooooo after that it would spark a bit of conversation and solidify the familiarity bc here is your neighbor that you tend to see sparklingly helping you out
And being the person I am, I feel like as a thank you you’d leave him some brownies, cookies, or maybe a whole ass lasagna with instructions on how to best reheat at his doorstep being too shy to outright do it
Mans is confused but I feel like he’d take it to be nice, leave it in the fridge for like 2 days until he’s back late from a meeting and needs something in him and the only in that barren ass fridge is the lasagna…. He indulges and once he finds it’s good as hell he bodies half of it
He probably has it for lunch/dinner next day too. And then like washes it and knocks on your door to like give it back. He tells you thanks and you didn’t need to, but you say otherwise. And at this point with his stubborn ass if you’d invite over for dinner he’d respectfully decline so now there needs to be an event that puts him in your place of residence
Cue you taking a tumble on iced pavement
Mwah, inconvenience 😘
And now Mitch being at the right place wrong time, has to help you up and probably check for a concussion since that fall was nasty. He helped you into the elevator then into your place to help check your head and then like how you’re functioning bc goddamn. Once he figures out your fine, he’ll tell you to get a professional opinion and he makes you an nice ice pack and gives advice for how to take care of it
He thinks he’s good to leave you until he sees you struggling to get your bearings. He hates that he does this, but asks if you need any help since your mind is scrambled. Maybe he gets your some Advil, but then realizes you can’t take it on an empty stomach (he’s done it too many damn times himself) and so he looks into your fridge for something to heat up in the microwave to give you before you take the pill
This is where the relationship starts and y’all make small talk, and how this is the longest you ever seen this man. He smirks, and snarks back. Once he gives you the food and sees you take the pill he’s off the clock and bids you a goodnight
Until you see him gain tomorrow since he probably starts to check in on you, not like he’s been getting emotionally fed by having an associate outside of work that isn’t trying to kill him or isn’t Stan or Irene. Just a normie…. But he be lying about his feelings
Next interaction is him coming back from a semi rough work week, and you catch him before he goes in and since he looks over it. Maybe a home cooked meal could help? You invite him over, no strings attached and go ok your way to get the braised short ribs out the oven for the mashed potatoes. You don’t tell him what’s for dinner tho
Thinking nothing will result of this, you get a knock at your door 30 minutes later with him and his hair still slightly damp. And maybe like a case in his beer bc he was told to never show up empty handed (so cute). Then bam! Y’all have some nice conversation, Mitch making sure to keep the attention off him and his job and do some information digging about you. School you went to, parents, hobbies, etc
He’s also scarfing down the ribs and such, you’re probably going to send him with food home tbh. He looks like he’ll need it
After that it’s really wraps, like it destined for y’all to be real friends! Once he gets sent home with the plastic tupper (we don’t give guests the glass in case we don’t get shit back) we all know he’ll be back again
Then starts the tradition of Mitch eating at your place for like once a week that later gets bumped up to like 3 times a week. At some point your forgetting ingredients and maybe text Mitch about it, funny thing is he’s at the liquor store getting alcohol you might like since beer isn’t always going to cut it. He texted back what you need, and when he arrives he hands you what you need. This man stopped next door to the Shop Rite to get you the stuff…. Eventually I feel like he just buys your groceries since he eat EATS with all the work he puts in
Friendship established
Y’all been shooting the shit for a while until there’s an emotional shift…. Lets say he’s having an episode of anger and just shuts down. On top the roof brooding and shit, it’s Katrina in another nightmare, him walk my himself with a panic attack, Stan up his ass, he just cannot right now. You take an elevator up there to see what’s up. You ask him what’s up, what’s wrong but he just ignores you. And by this point you know he can be a tight lipped lil shit…. But it doesn’t stop you from being there. So you do what you know best about which is just being there
So y’all sit in silence. And maybe you start to ramble to fill the silence, talking about the way your parents did a thing about colors when you were super and didn’t feel like talking. They said numbers “1 was green meaning yes, 2 was red so no to whatever they asked, 3 was yellow so a I’m not sure”.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Silence
“Are you ok to be by yourself?”
Him staring straight ahead
“Do you want me to go?”
A painful hard silence
You respect his wishes and get ready to leave him until you heard a soft “2”, and the. Sit your ass down.
“Ok, so you want silence?”
“…..3”
“Ok, I’ll just sit here and watch the time…. We can get ice cream after….” You were doing your best dammit
Mitch felt a fond feeling some up over him, but didn’t say anything. You guys were up there until it got too damn late and cold. You tell him it’s time to go, and that when he looks at you like LOOKS and it’s just different…. You know he doesn’t want to go, and you understand but you can’t let self sabotage happen
“I get it, life is lifing and shit sucks but even when you’re not ready for the day, it can’t always be night”
This man knows you quoted Kanye
He gives you another long look, and you get up and offer your hand to help him up. He stared up at it… then grabs it to get up and y’all get inside. You two end up eating ice cream sandwiches
Now the seed is planted for feelings to grow… MWAHAHAHAHAAAAA
After that y’all hangout regularly when he’s home, you give him normalcy in his life which he appreciates
He will die on a hill before he admits or even acknowledges the feelings he has for you, lets be real he probably feels like he’s cheating on Katrina and that he’s not here to make friends since he’s a whole ass assassin and whatever. That’s fine, but when he’s wondering what you’re up to, or what’s for dinner, or reminiscing on a joke you made he feels warm and fuzzy and sometimes not as on edge as he usually is on missions
Stan noticed
I don’t think things will turn until he gets home one day at an odd hour of the night like 3am type shit and is bruised over his face. He just wants to lay in bed after taking a nice shower, but nah there’s you in the hall coming back from the club and having fun. You might be tipsy and say hi to Mitch but all that leaves your system once you see his face. *giggles like a school girl kicking her feet*
You’re on him without thinking asking what happened, he’s trying to keep it together and not blow up on you since you’re friends but he really wants to go inside. But you let him and follow him in asking for a first aid kit that he has. And you end up cleaning off his face after he showers, during that time you go to your place and get a first aid kit that is more advanced than his (that spray on band aid shit). Now it's you disinfecting wounds and putting neosporin on them and sealing it. During this time you’re complaining about wtf this man did while he was away, completely ignoring the fact that he’s in a towel. You’re giving him an earful and Mitch is rolling his eyes but not moving much bc when was the last time someone touched him so gently?
He’s probably taking in your clubbing attire while you do this, not in a weird way but like looking at the glitter, the new hair style, etc and putting it to memory
“What the fuck were you doing? Jesus you look like shit”
Cue eye roll and for that you poke a nasty bruise that has his muscles flexing, he grabs your wrist for that
You give him a glare and don’t back down…. He answers with “The government” after that you don’t ask questions. The FBI agent assigned to your phone is probably already on your ass so you don’t need more enemies
You fix him up, tell him to chill out, and then go to leave, but not right before him saying “thank you”
We love a polite man who is in denial about having feelings, and you not acting in them bc Mitch is like a blank slate to read when he really wants to be
So like the way y’all talk about feelings and decide to get together and shit is not my forte, and breaking down his walls to talk about Katrina and the nature of his work to a degree that doesn’t scare you off. And his work on being emotionally available to you since he now cares for you more than he can admit
But we KNOW this man is a complete softie
Once he loves he LOVES, no question about it. And once you gain that, you have him for life
Fuck even if he’s been away for an assignment for months at a time, he’d probably head back to your apartment rather than his…. He knows where home is
He might not be the type to declare his love for you verbally all the time, but he shows it through actions like remembering the brand of stuff you like. Bringing you dessert or picking up food for you when work has been bullshit. Maybe not a gourmet meal for breakfast in bed (he can cook but like take your expectations, he can throw down for breakfast tho and make good ass sandwiches), but he will give you the rest of the milk for the cereal. Do the dishes, trash duty, put furniture together, wait for you outside till you get off work and drive you home. And even tidy around if he sees you don’t have the time
And when things get more serious put you as an authorized user on his card without telling you. You’ll just find that shit in your Apple Wallet
He’d keep the loving touches at home but he’s a cuddle bug, loyal to a fault, and loves to spend time at home with you. Home dates are a must, but he does love a good date night to see you dressed up
He would grow to love the domestic nature of your relationship and that’s what this man needs besides a copious amount of therapy
You’d also find out that he’s a nerd, but like undercover. I feel like he’d be a Nightwing or Red Hood fan from DC, and other comics from his childhood shows as well
He’s protective, smart, probably would talk to you about getting an air tag or some government tracking thing in case of emergencies. Then maybe take you on a gun date to teach you some self defense which probably goes wrong because you’re a CIVILIAN and that punch came too fast at you and you screamed and ducked while covering your eyes. He feels bad now, but now knows to take it to baby steps
Your assassin boyfriend has your best interest at heart, promise
A/N: I do be writing for black readers iykyk, but here is just very general.... Let me get to the tomfoolery next time babes (like Mitch helping you take down the braids)
#black reader#mitch rapp#american assassin#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp headcanons#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp imagines#dylan o'brien#mitch#mitch rapp request#mitch rapp blurb#mitch rapp smut#mitch rapp concept#mitch rapp one shot#mitch rapp x you#american assasin#dylan o'brien mitch rapp#smut#mitch rapp angst#dylan o’brien#dylan o'brien one shot#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien x you
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Archived Works Navigation
Characters/People I Have Written For Previously But Am No Longer Accepting Requests For
NAVIGATION TOOLS:
FLUFF: ~
ANGST: *
ABCs of Dating Andrew Garfield ~
Description: 2k wc, headcannons, notes, ideas, etc. of what it would be like to date Andrew Garfield based on concepts starting with each letter of the alphabet.
Warnings: none I can think of, general relationship dynamics
I Will Say It Back: Andrew Garfield x Reader ~
Description: 1.5k wc, Andrew is nervous to pick up the role of Spider-Man again after how it went last time. Fortunately his girlfriend Y/N is there to support him the whole time, even when his costars jokingly don’t respond to one of his impromptu lines.
Warnings: NWH spoilers (if you haven’t seen it yet smh), minor NWH More Fun Stuff Re-Release spoilers (not scenes from the movie but the brief intro from the guys before the movie)
New Year’s Day: Austin Butler x Reader Blurb & Moodboard ~
Description: 597 wc, the song New Years Day by Taylor Swift as it relates to Austin and the relationship he has with Y/n.
Warnings: none
The King and I: Austin Butler Elvis Premieres SMAU
Description: Social Media AU of what is is like doing press for Elvis and the Elvis Premieres while dating Austin Butler and being the movie’s photographer.
Warnings: None
TikTok Prank Preference: Stuck Tampon ~
Description: blurb preference based on the viral TikTok prank where the person pretend they have a tampon stuck and need their partner to help them to see how they react.
Warnings: mentions of period related items and topics, minimally suggestive words, otherwise fluff
Dating Dylan: Dylan O'Brien x Reader SMAU ~
Description: SMAU fic of date nights with Dylan and overall what dating him is like including when he dyes his hair blonde.
Warnings: playful relationship teasing/banter, that’s really it
The Vogue 75: Dylan O’Brien x Reader
Summary: 3.5k wc, Dylan allows the crew at Vogue enter his home and meet the reader, his amazing wife y/n, and their precious kids, proud to show off this side of his life as he silently admired how blessed his life was.
Warnings: family dynamics I guess? That’s about it!
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#archived#archive#dylan obrien smau#dylan obrien x y/n#dylan obrien x you#dylan obrien x reader#dylan o’brien smau#dylan obrien#andrew garfield one shot#andrew garfield fanfiction#andrew garfield abcs#andrew garfield x y/n#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield#fluff#angst#sam holland x y/n#sam holland x reader#sam holland#harry holland x you#harry holland
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prompt 6? high school sweethearts. dylan o brian ofc. could u do it where maybe the reader is also an actress or something and they are both celebrities. maybe add in a scene where they are in an interview where someone asks them ab how they met or soemtjing and idk it ends with smut lol
—𓆩[red suit, red dress]𓆪—
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 - Dylan O’Brien x Fem! Actress! Fiancée! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.8K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Dylan had been together since he was shooting YouTube videos, and even replaced Holland as Lydia in Teen Wolf after a family emergency, and had been his partner in every film he shot from American Assassin to Love and Monsters to The Outfit. Besides, who could have better chemistry with Dylan than you?
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || Drew Barrymore is now interviewing you and Dylan || nvm I saw an opportunity and took it, you didn’t make it to the interview || smut warnings include hickies, fingering, semi-public sex, car sex, oral, raw sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie
“Dylan, we have the interview soon!” You yelled out as you slipped on your dress. You were careful choosing this one out, especially because Drew sent you both a pretty fruit basket and you were insanely excited to talk to her.
“I know!” He yelled out, walking out of the restroom with a towel around his waist and his face cleanly shaven. His hazel eyes were bright as they stared at you smooth the sides of your red dress, the perfect color that suited you amazingly and one he could never look away from. “You look so amazing.”
You paused as you started to put the gold and garnet earrings he got for you as a monthly anniversary present. “Thanks, baby.”
He smiled widely as he walked over, the towel around his waist falling slightly with every step as he came behind you. He was about to press his chest to your back before you glared at him through the mirror.
“If you get this dress wet, we’re going to have problems.” You threaten playfully making him hum as he takes the earring from you and slips it into your ear.
He mumbled, rubbing his hands against your hips after officially securing it on the lobe of your ear. “I’m trying to be romantical here.”
You giggle, ignoring your own words and leaning back into his chest. “There’s ways of being romantical without getting me wet.”
He grinned, his fingers slowly trailing down your thighs. “But making you wet is my specialty, angel cakes.”
You giggled at the nickname, stroking his hair. “Angel cakes? That’s a new one.”
“Got it from our friend MC Mikey,” he grinned at you through the mirror. “Y’know, in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”
You giggle, nodding. “I remember. I like it.”
“Do you now?” His hands slipped underneath your red dress, rubbing at your thighs as he hummed against your neck. “What else do you like?”
“I think I liked the blond,” you say, pushing your hands through his now grown out brown hair. “But I do like you clean shaven.”
He smiled, nodding. “Maybe I’ll go blond again for you,” his fingers slowly pulled up your dress, letting you watch him through the mirror as he let his fingers graze your slit up and down slowly. “Whatever you want me to do, angel cakes.”
You groaned as you tilted your head back, humming as his finger softly trailed over your underwear that you wore specifically not to leave any panty-lines on the dress. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, ignoring the slight wetness that settled on your back that would definitely mean that you’d have to change your dress, which was a shame because you really liked it.
“You need to calm down, Dylan,” you whisper, holding back a whimper as he dipped his fingers into your underwear and his mouth sucked against your neck. “D-Don’t leave hickeys, Dylan, I won’t be able to cover them up.”
“You don’t have to,” he mumbled, humming against your skin. “I like it when people can see them.”
You gasped, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop him, so you hummed with a slight nod. “Just not too many, alright? And not too dark.”
“Whatever you say, angel cakes.”
You giggled as he pushed his fingers through your wet slit, his mouth wide and sucking against your skin as your hands tightly held his wrists, whimpers falling from your mouth as you leaned back into him, gasping. “Y-You need… you need to change, Dylan.”
“Do I have a red suit to match your dress?”
“Y-Yeah, i-it’s Valentino,” you whisper, whimpering. “K-Kinda like the one Pedro wore for the Met Gala, just with pants.”
He laughed, his mouth sucking on your earlobe. “What if we’re just a little late?”
“No, Dylan, she sent us a fruit basket!”
“Fuck her fruit basket,” he basically growled, groaning as he bucked his hips up into you. “Tell me what you chose me to wear, angel cakes.”
“Th-The red oversized coat… red button down, black Valentino tie and some slacks,” you groaned as his thumb slid over your clit, rolling the sensitive bud between two fingers before his mouth pressed to your jaw. “Fuck, Dylan.”
“Who are you imagining wearing that suit, huh baby? Me or Pedro, I know you’ve had a crush on him since Narcos,” he teased you, his tongue peeking out as you groaned. “Me or Pedro, angel cakes?”
You hold his jaw, delicately grazing your teeth over his mole as he groans. “Definitely Pedro.”
You both laughed loudly as he took out his fingers from your panties, a squeal echoing off of the walls from your mouth as he pushed them in between his lips and walked to the walk-in closet. “Are you going to change, baby?!”
“No!” You yelled back, fixing your dress and checking that a wet spot wasn't peeking through. “It’ll dry by the time we get there!”
You put on the gold choker you bought and a gold and diamond bracelet with Dylan’s initials engraved on the nameplate on your wrist, fixing your engagement ring and his rope chain that you had been wearing the past few days. You loved stealing his jewelry, but it’s more like the two of you swapped because as soon as he walked out of the closet dressed like a fucking god with some combat boots on to match Pedro’s, he slipped on a small gold hoop onto the helix of his right ear because of the lack of a needle.
You hummed as you grabbed a stack of hoops from your jewelry box, coming next to him as you kissed his cheek softly, sliding the stack onto the lower area of his helix on his other ear. “I was imagining you, Dylan,” you whisper with a firm tug to his thigh. “I’m always imagining you, baby.”
He smiled at you, holding your cheek with a firm hand and pressing another kiss to your lips. “Well then, we have another thing in common, baby.”
You giggled as he held your hip, guiding you out of the room and down the stairs.
“If your dress isn’t dry by the time we get there, I’ll give you my jacket, okay?”
You hummed, smiling as you both walked out of your home and he helped you into the SUV, quickly sliding into the car and putting his arm around you. “How are we doing on time, angel cakes?”
“We’re running a little late, but not by much. When we get there, we should just have enough time to be fitted with mics and then go on air,” you say, leaning forward to look at your reflection in the rearview mirror. “Dylan! You left, like, a dozen!”
“I left four!” He said, laughing as you started tugging on his jacket. “What, you’re that eager? Mycroft, put up the privacy screen!”
“What? No, no Mycroft, don’t do that!” You yell, your driver laughing as you groan. “I need to cover them up because you’re acting like a fucking vampire and leaving hickies all over me!”
“Here, I’ll give it to you when we get there, alright?” He whispers, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you roll your eyes playfully. “But we still have like fifteen minutes until we get there, angel cakes. Why don’t you put that pretty mouth to use for something else, hm? Repay me for earlier?”
You glared at him, but looked at Mycroft through the mirror. “Will you put the privacy screen up, please Mycroft?”
“Whatever you say, Ms. Y/N.” He reached forward, slowly pushing the button to make the privacy screen go up and a deep sigh left your mouth.
“We have half an hour, maybe more, Dylan,” you say, a smile on your face as you slowly take off your seatbelt. You could feel Mycroft slow down as you kneeled on the seat, slowly unzipping his slacks after unbuttoning them. It didn’t surprise you when his cock immediately bulged through his underwear, a hum leaving your mouth as you licked over the fabric. “Why am I not surprised?”
He groaned loudly, hips bucking as you hushed him softly. “Fuck, Y/N.”
“Careful, darling,” you whispered, humming with another soft lick to the growing wet patch on his black briefs. “Our windows might be tinted and the privacy screen might be up, but nothing muffles how loud you’re going to be.”
You giggled as he groaned out, holding the back of your head with a hand covered in golden rings. He hissed as you pulled out his cock, head rolling back as you pumped him slowly just how he liked it, slowly and tightly. Your hand barely went around his girth, your mouth sucking loudly against his pretty tip before licking down the bottom of his shaft.
You could feel his cock pulse in your mouth, pulling him farther down your throat as his hand held your butt, rubbing and pushing into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back as his fingertips circle the rim of your entrance, warm and clenching around nothing so desperately.
You couldn't even focus on his cock, choking and gagging around his length as he pulled his fingers away and pushed them into his mouth. His other hand held your waist tightly, his mouth kissing against your shoulder as he leaned down and pushed a finger into you slowly. Your eyes rolled back as you bobbed your head, pumping your hands as he slowly pushed in and out of your cunt.
You pulled away for a second, gasping for air as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, teasingly pushing another into your cunt. You basically mewled as both of his fingers pushed in and out, in and out, a steady rhythm you couldn’t stop thinking about as you relax your jaw and bobbed your head around the tip of his cock, pulling it to the back of your throat as you hollow your cheeks around it.
He groaned loudly against your shoulder, your mouth enclosed around his length as his other hand held the back of your head and pressed kisses to your shoulder. “Just like that baby, just like that. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”
You hummed around his length, thighs shaking as he twisted his fingers inside of you and another circled around your cunt, slowly pushing in another finger that made your cunt clench and a loud moan fell from your lips. “Who’s being loud now, hm? Your cunt is clenching more than usual, are you about to cum?”
You whined, humming around his length as you pulled away, nodding. “Yes! Yes, I am, fuck!”
He groaned as his mouth sucked against your shoulder, leaving another hickey in your skin as you pulled his cock into your mouth, a feeling of emptiness settling in the pit of your stomach as he pulled his fingers out of you, his mouth leaving a blaze of warmth wherever he went and a shudder run down your spine as he bucked his hips.
Your eyes rolled back, a loud groan falling from your mouth making him choke and push you down until your mouth was fully enveloping his cock and giving him a chance to come undone underneath you. You hummed as you continued to bob your head, pulling away just enough so that his cum flooded your mouth.
You pulled away, swallowing as he grinned down at you, his cock still hard. “You know damn well that getting me off once does nothing.”
You giggled as you slowly pushed yourself over his cock, humming as you held his shoulders. “I know.”
He smiled as you slowly held his shaft, hissing as you slowly sank onto his cock, your head tilting back as he held your hips. He pressed soft kisses to your jaw, humming as his fingers dug into the fabric of your dress, his mouth leaving more heat onto your skin which already felt like it was on fire. “Dy-Dylan, I want to take it off,” you whispered, whining. “Take off my dress.”
He smiled, laughing slightly as he held the hem of your dress. “It’s going to take a minute to put it on again, my darling. Are you sure you want to take it off?”
You whined, rolling your hips as he groaned underneath you. “I-It’s just so hot, it’s so fucking hot.”
“I know baby, but I don’t want you stressed out when we get there,” his fingers held your waist, your hips rolling as he slowly took off his seatbelt. “Do you want me to tell Mycroft to turn up the AC?”
You thought about it for a minute, but shook your head. You always got hot whenever he fucked you, or was about to fuck you, his hips strong as he began to thrust. “N-No, just keep fucking me, don’t stop.”
He hummed into your ear, grunting as he held your hips and his mouth attached to the same hickies he had made earlier. “Remember the first time I had you like this? Fucked you in the backseat whenever that stupid movie was playing in the football field, they were trying to take us back to the 80s or some shit?”
You groaned loudly, his mouth making your mind hazy as you bucked your hips into his. “Yeah, I remember. It had to be like our… What, fourth time having sex? You were so desperate.”
“Who’s desperate now, hm?” He says, leaning back and fixing your legs around his waist and grunting as he positioned your hips a little higher, leaning down to press his wet lips to yours. “I know your body gets all hot when you’re desperate. Like you want to cum. You’re desperate, aren’t you? You want to cum again?”
You whined, nodding. “Y-Yes,” your fingers ran over his clothed chest, your head lulling up and down in a pathetic nod. “I want you to fuck me harder, Dylan.”
“Do you?” He teased, groaning as he leaned forward as he pressed kisses to your lips. “I will, I’ll do whatever you want.”
You laughed, pulling his face into your neck. “You’re still so fucking desperate.”
He laughed, his nose nuzzling into your neck as his hips moved faster, just like you wanted him to. He groaned, his mouth still pushing against the same hickies that he had made earlier, his fingers pushing down to rub firm circles into your clit. His cock was pounding into you making your stomach twist and turn, tightening as your walls would clamp down onto his shaft, his broken moans filling the back seats along with the wet squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin.
“I might be desperate,” he grunted, his mouth quickly finding yours to kiss and push his tongue into your mouth, groaning loudly. “But you’re one fucking worthy person to be desperate for. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, falling in love with you quicker than a bitch could say ‘fuck’.”
You laughed as he pulled you closer, his other hand pushing into your hair to pull you in for another kiss, his teeth grazing your lips that were painted with lipstick and his tongue pushing into your mouth making a loud groan leaving your mouth. That combined with the strong thrusts of his hips, his cock imminently and repeatedly ramming into you made your stomach tighten and your nails dig into his back.
His hips slam into you, a loud groan falling from his lips as he choked against your lips, pulling away to inhale deeply. “F-Fuck, I think I made a mess.”
You hummed, feeling his cum flood into your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair before a soft tap on the privacy screen makes both of you stiffen. “We’re here!”
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BEST FRIENDS
PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE
Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x Reader
Warnings: 18+ content, drinking, smoking, cursing.
Concept: Y/N and Dylan have been best friends for years, but Dylan has a girlfriend who is less than friendly and so incredibly annoying. Oh, and Y/N is secretly in love with Dylan.
Julia lived with her longterm girlfriend, Aly. They had this great place in the city that we all would gather monthly for a group party. It was the best way to get everyone to catch up for hours without paying out the ass for booze. Mikey and Olivia came over to my place before the big party to pregame, get ready, and force me to come. Olivia put me in black pants and the tiniest top she could find in my closet while Mikey handed me shot after shot. About two hours later, the three of us arrived at Julia's.
“Hey!” Aly cheered as she gave each of us a hug individually. “You look stunning!” Aly smiled as she held me a little tighter. “Kamille isn’t here yet.” She pulled away and watched as a weight lifted off my shoulders. I’ve never been so relieved to learn that Dylan wasn’t there. I smiled at the girl and then walked past her to the kitchen to get another drink. I’ve got enough time to be drunk enough to handle dealing with this girl.
I open their large fridge and pull out a can of whatever is closest and a couple of jello shots. I throw my head back and immediately suck three shots down before cracking open the can in my hands and closing the fridge. I turn and see a tall figure watching me with a smirk, making me jump just enough to spill some of my drink. “God! Why didn’t you say anything!” The man scoffed lightly, “I thought we weren’t talking right now.” I looked at him emotionless. “We aren’t.” Dylan rolls his eyes for a second, “I thought you’d be happy that Kamille isn’t here.” I turned to face him again after trying my best to leave the kitchen without any more words. “I am happy. I’m ecstatic, even! Because now I don’t have to worry about being fucking bullied for just existing!” Dylan scoffed angrily, “Get off your high horse, Y/N/N. She’s not that bad.” I put my drink down on the counter and walk closer to the man in front of me, “Yes, she is! Her entire existence is to hurt my feelings!” Both of our voices were rising more and more with each word. I could hear Julia turning the music up to give us some sort of privacy. “She’s got a good reason for it, Y/N.” I throw my hands up angrily, “Are you fucking serious?” Dylan mocks my actions. “What could possibly be a good enough reason to be a bitch?” Dylan moves closer to me again, “Because she’s jealous. She’s jealous of how close we are.” I shake my head back and forth, close enough to feel his breath on my face. “That’s a bullshit fucking reason, Dylan. She’s the one dating you, not me.” We were both breathing heavily and angrily, our eyes switching back and forth as we argued like we’ve never argued before. The silence should’ve helped us both calm down, but it didn’t. The only thing that changed any demeanor between the two of us in the present moment was the sudden leap Dylan took.
He pressed his lips against mine feverishly. His hand wrapped around the back of my neck as both my arms wrapped around his. His other hand found my waist followed by the first hand as he picked me up and sat me on the counter. His lips paced insatiably down my neck and chest. “Dylan-” I moaned as he hit every spot I wanted him to. “Wait- Dylan-” He continued moving around my body. His lips finally made their way back to my own and so did the thought I had before, “Wait.” He pulled away breathlessly. “What?” I looked at him for a second as I tried to catch my breath as well. “What the hell are we doing?” Dylan looked around for a moment, noting where each of his hands were, “Making out?” I shook my head, “No, no, Dylan. I mean, what the fuck is this? What about Kamille?” Dylan shrugged his shoulders, “I thought you hated Kamille.” He sighed as he began kissing my neck again. I pushed him back softly, “Dylan.” The man pulled away from me again with a tense look on his face. “Look, Y/N/N, there’s something I sort of left out about Kamille and I’s relationship.” I nod my head to urge him to continue. “We have an open relationship.” I furrow my eyebrows at the boy in between my legs - the one that I’ve been wanting in between my legs. He shrugs, “Basically, we can fuck whoever we want as long as we come home to each other at the end of the day.” Dylan smirks softly before eyeing my lips again and diving back in. At first, I let him graciously - not fully processing what he just said to me. Moments later, I moan his name again. “Dylan.” He smirks into my shoulder, “God, I love hearing you moan that.” I shook my head, “No, Dyl-” I sigh, pushing the boy back, “No. No, no, no.” Dylan looks back at me in confusion, “What?” I shake my head and hop down off the counter top. “I-I’m not just someone you can fuck. I’m your friend- your best friend…” I pause and shake my head before mumbling quietly, “Or at least I thought I was…”
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hoax ~ p.p
chapter one: just a sweet, sweet fantasy
series masterlist
Despite the fact that Peter had been pining for you the last three years of college, he had never had a conversation last more than a few minutes with you. As hard as he tried, he always got flustered and ran out of things to say or just made the conversation awkward. You never noticed him the way he noticed you, even after you were paired up with Ned for a school project last semester and your friend groups merged in the process. Peter thought his luck will change now that he was running in your circle, but all it did was make it more evident to him that he didn’t have a shot with you. You only saw him as a friend, and even that was an exaggeration of your relationship.
“Hi.”
You jumped a little when you heard Peters voice and looked up from your phone. You hadn’t even noticed that he was already sitting at the table you agreed to meet your friends at. It was pretty common for you not to notice Peter, but that didn’t mean he’d ever stop trying to get your attention.
“Oh, hi Peter. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. How are you?” You asked politely.
“I’m good. You?”
“Good. Thanks for asking.” You replied. You then pulled your phone back out and started to text, making all conversation cease.
“I like your skirt.” He said after a long beat of silence. You looked up in surprise since you thought the conversation had ended.
“Aw, thanks. That’s so nice of you to say.” You smiled before going back to your phone. He sighed in defeat even though this was how your conversations, or lack there or, usually went.
“Yeah, no problem. It’s like jeans but…not.”
“Oh, yeah. I think it’s called denim.” You laughed awkwardly and didn’t know it was was socially acceptable to go back to texting.
“Right. Denim.” He nodded, and conversation ceased once again.
“I like that it’s pleated.” He said after a full minute of silence.
“What?” You asked and looked up from your phone again.
“Your skirt.” He explained while his face turned bright red. He knew he was beating the death out of the skirt topic and it was made even worse by you knowing the same thing.
“Right, my skirt. Thanks. So do I.” You smiled politely again and touched the skirt.
“Hey losers.” MJ said as she approached the table. Peter heard you sigh in relief over not having to be alone with him anymore, and he couldn’t even blame you.
“Hey. Sit with us.” You smiled and patted the table. MJ sat down and the awkward tension dissolved with the presence of a third person. Your other friends, Kate and Gwen, soon joined the table too and the dynamic of the friend group was restored. Much to his disappointment, you and Peter seemed to lie in opposite ends of the friend group. You were friendly with each other, but also couldn’t be left alone together without maximum awkwardness ensuing. You were the people that would laugh at each others jokes in a group setting but never be able to hold a one on one conversation.
“Did you do the trig homework?” MJ asked you.
“Oh yeah. You need it?” You asked and put your backpack on the table to get your homework out. Peter looked up and noticed a pin of Spider-Man’s mask on your backpack. He did a double table and looked at you in surprise to confirm the backpack belonged to you.
“Is that a Spiderman pin?” He asked you.
“Oh, yeah. You haven’t heard? He’s her latest obsession.” Gwen teased you.
“For the record, I’ve always liked him.” You insisted. “I’ve been a fan since day one. The obsession has just gotten worse as I’ve realized he’s the only man for me.”
“Wait, really? He is?” Peter asked with a surprise smile.
“Please don’t get her started.” Kate whined. You ignored her and leaned towards Peter to talk to him.
“You know when you have a celebrity you like and you just know that if you ever met, you’d be great friends?”
“Of course.” Peter shrugged. “Dylan O’Brien would be my best friend if we ever crossed paths.”
“Exactly. That’s how I feel about Spiderman. Except instead of friends, we’d be lovers.” You said simply. A blush painted Peters cheek to hear you talk about him like that.
“Sounds like you really like him.” He smiled shyly.
“I’m in love with him. I have so many videos of him saved on Tik Tok.” You laughed and pulled out your tik tok to show your friends your collection of saved videos.
“Girl. 407?” Gwen gasped. “You’ve saved 407 edits of Spiderman with sexy songs in the background?”
“Um, yeah. I watch them before I go to sleep.” You shrugged and pulled your phone back. Peter was stunned to silence to hear how deep your obsession ran.
“You need help.” MJ snorted. “You don’t even know him.”
“I feel like I do. Haven’t you ever felt that way about someone you haven’t met yet?”
“I have.” Peter spoke up, making you smile.
“See? I’m not crazy. Just a romantic.” You sighed. The conversation changed subjects and Peter was silent as he thought about what he had heard from you. After three years of being hopelessly in love with you, he may have just found his way in.
A few days later, your group agree to meet up in the library to do homework together. Ned was still out sick with the flu, so Peter didn’t have his crutch to lean on. You arrived early to the library and saw that Peter was the first one there. You gulped and braced yourself for the awkwardness that was about to happen and sat down across from him.
“Hey, Peter.” You said politely. He looked up at you and blushed before trying to think of something cool to say.
“Hey. How’s it going? How are you?” He asked.
“Pretty good. I’m a little stressed out over this stupid paper but Gwen said she’d help me today. How are you doing?”
“Really good. And you? How’s it going for you?” He asked before realized he already asked that.
“Uh, I think we covered that.” You joked.
“Right, right. You’re still good, I’m assuming. And, uh, nice shirt by the way.” He complimented you.
“Aw, thanks. It was my moms back in the 80s.” You smiled at him and then opened your laptop, ending the convo.
“I like your hair too. Did you change it?” He asked to try to resuscitate the conversation.
“No. I haven’t washed it in a few days. It’s just greasy.” You laughed awkwardly and ran your fingers through the it.
“Oh.” He gulped. “Well, it looks good.”
“Thanks.” You smiled again just as the rest of the friend group joined you. You both seemed to relax now that everyone was there and you no longer had to limp through a conversation. Peter didn’t say much as the group talked about homework and weekend plans but snuck glances at you the entire time.
“Wait a minute. Why do you have a magazine? What year is this?” MJ laughed and pulled a magazine out of your open backpack. You gave her a playful look and snatched the magazine from her.
“Because. Look at this picture someone took of him yesterday.” You smiled cheekily and laid the magazine out for the table to show them a picture of Spiderman.
“Oh my God. Please. It’s too early for this.” Kate playfully whined and banged her textbook against her head.
“This is the most detailed photo I’ve seen of him yet. It’s so clear. I bet he’s so cute under the mask.” You sighed happily and looked at the picture again. Peter watched the way you stared at the picture in the way he’d been looking at you all these years and smiled to himself. He’d never been able to turn your head, but he was pleased to know Spiderman could.
“Or he’s 30 and has a greasy little rat face.” MJ grimaced.
“Stop it. Don’t ruin my fantasy.” You said and playfully smacked her arm. She laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you continued to stare at the picture.
“Fantasy?” Gwen smiled coyly. “Uh oh. Spill.”
“Okay, so I have this fantasy where he sees me walking home and drops down from the sky to walk me home. Just to make sure I get there safely.” You told the group with a dreamy smile.
“Oh. That’s a lot less erotic then I thought it would be.” Kate said in disappointment.
“Oh, trust me. I have plenty of those. But I’m not sharing any of them here.” You smiled coyly and drummed your fingers on the table. Peter gulped when he realized what you were talking about and turned bright red.
“What else do you fantasize about?” Gwen asked you.
“Mostly him saving me from danger. But low key danger. I don’t want to actually be in danger danger. Maybe just tripping on the sidewalk and he catches me. Or, you know, he stops a car from crushing me like in Twilight.”
“This little crush of yours is getting out of hand.” MJ laughed and shook her head. “You’re literally asking to be crushed by a car now?”
“But imagine how amazing it would be to be his girlfriend.” You gushed. “He could swing me around the city in his arms and kiss me on the top of the Brooklyn bridge. Or take me on dates on the top of the Empire State Building. I want it so bad.”
“So stand in the street until a car comes near you and wait for him to swing you to safety.” MJ said sarcastically.
“Don’t give her ideas.” Kate groaned.
“You don’t think I’ve considered that? I’d do anything for a date. Just one. I swear, I could get him to fall in love with me. I just need one chance.” You sighed and picked up your magazine to admire it.
“I bet he would.” Peter spoke up. You looked at him over the magazine and smiled.
“See? Peter supports me. At least someone’s on my side.” You said and gestured to Peter. You made eye contact with him again and this time, it didn’t feel awkward. You liked that he was being supportive, no matter how silly your argument was.
“I think you’d make a great couple.” Peter continued, making you smile once again.
“Thank you.” You told him. “Now I just need to find a way to talk to him.”
“Maybe leave a couple flies on your windowsill.” Peter suggested. All the girls looked at him in confusion and he felt embarrassed that his joke didn’t land.
“Because he’s a spider. And they eat flies.” He shamefully explained. You stared at him slack jawed for a moment before throwing you head back laughing.
“That was genius.” You laughed. “Although, I hope he doesn’t actually eat bugs. I don’t think I could kiss a guy who eats flies.”
“He doesn’t.” Peter said with such certainty that everyone looked at him in confusion again.
“I’m….I’m guessing.” He lied. You smiled at him again before going back to talking to your friends. The conversation faded to background noise as Peter constructed a plan in his head.
After class that day, Peter changed into his suit and hung out on top of a building to watch the people walking in and out of campus. If you wanted to talk to Spiderman that badly, he was gonna bring Spiderman to you. Finally, he spotted you walking to your dorm with your earbuds in as you typed away on your phone.
“Hey! How are you? I’m Spiderman!” He whispered to himself to practice what he would say to you.
“No. That’s stupid. She already knows it’s me.” He grumbled. “Hey! What’s up? It’s me, your friendly neighborhood giant fucking loser Jesus Christ this is so difficult. Okay. Just be normal. Just talk to her. Just…”
Peter trailed off when he heard the sound of an engine revving. A car was speeding down the street and heading right towards the blissfully unaware you. Peter immediately jumped down and landed between you and the car, putting his hand up to stop it right before it could hit you. The car bent against his hand and came to a halt as Peter held you close to his body. People on the street gasped and started to take picture while you gasped for air. You pulled your earbuds out and looked at Peter in disbelief.
“Hi.” He said through the mask.
“Oh my God. It’s you.” Your voice shook as you tightened your grip on him. You were shaking with adrenaline and fear so he tightened his grip around your body.
“It’s me.” He said weakly. He had almost seen you die but now had to pretend you were a stranger he had never met before.
“You just saved my life.” You told him as a smile crossed your face.
“It’s my job.” He said simply. Your smile grew and you threw your arms around him in a hug.
“Thank you.” You whispered into his ear. Peter blushed under the mask and hugged you back. People on the streets clapped and took videos, but you were unaware of any of it. The man driving the car got out just as the police arrived to take yours and Peters statements. Once you were all squared away with the police, Peter wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Let me get you somewhere safe.” Peter said before swinging you a few blocks away from the sight of the crash. You held on tight and let out a happy scream as he swung you since it was a dream of yours coming true. When he set you down, you smoothed your hair down and looked at him.
“Thank you so much for saving me. I’m such an idiot. I was so focused on my phone that I just mindlessly kept walking even when the walk sign wasn’t on.”
“You’re not the idiot. That driver was. He was going 60 miles an hour in a school zone. It wouldn’t have mattered if the wall sign was on or not. I’m just glad I could be here to stop the car.”
“Just like Twilight.” You whispered to yourself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Sorry. I’m just a little starstruck.” You admitted with a shy smile.
“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”
“I know. But I’m kinda your biggest fan.”
“Well, I’m flattered. It’s nice to have a fan.” He chuckled through the mask. For the first time, Peter actually found it easy to talk to you. Conversation was flowing and he didn’t even have to try.
“I’m seriously obsessed with you. I’ve been following you since you first started, back when I was in high school. I think what you do is amazing. And now that you stopped me from becoming street meat, I’ll love you forever.” You told him before you knew what you were saying. You felt embarrassed to be freaking out so much over him, but he didn’t seem to think it was weird.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled shyly at the sound of you promising to love him forever.
“Good. And I promise, I’ll never look at my phone while walking again. I’ll be super careful from now on.”
“What were you so focused on anyway?” He wondered.
“Oh, um…” You trailed off and just showed him your phone instead of trying to explain. It turned out the thing that had distracted you so much that you almost got hit by a car was a Tik Tok of footage of Spiderman edited to the song Deep Throat by Cupcakke. You smiled in embarrassment while Peter burst out laughing.
“That’s…intense.” He said once he regained his composure.
“I’m sorry. I tried to warn you. I said I was a fan.” You laughed and relaxed a little. You felt like you were being so weird, but he seemed to enjoy it.
“Can I walk you home?” He offered, making you light up.
“Really? I mean, yeah, sure.”
Peter put a gloved hand on your back and started walking with you back to your dorm. Conversation flowed easier than it ever had before and Peter felt like you were meeting each other for the first time. Talking to you as Spiderman was the antitheses of talking to you as Peter. His jokes didn’t fall flat, there was no awkward silence, and you were the one constantly complimented him.
“You know, I’ve fantasized about this very moment a million times.” You admitted to him as you neared your dorm.
“Have you?” He smiled coyly.
“Yeah. I just didn’t think it was actually gonna happen.”
“I don’t mind walking a pretty girl home. Maybe it can happen more often.” He timidly suggested. You stopped walking and looked at him to see if he was serious.
“I would like that.” You grinned.
“Cool. I’m smiling back at you, by the way. Sorry, I know it’s hard to tell under this.” He joked and gestured to the mask.
“It’s okay. I actually could tell.” You told him. Peter smiled only again and felt his heart swoon for you. You got to your dorm all too soon, meaning this conversation had come to an end.
“This is me.” You smiled sadly and pointed to your building. “Can I ask you something? Before you go?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“How old are you?” You said, close to a whisper.
“21.”
“Really?” You gasped. “Me too. You have no idea how relived I am to hear that.”
“Relieved? Why?”
“Because now I know my crush is age appropriate. So I can fully indulge in the fantasy. And because now I get to laugh in my friends faces who thought you were 30 or something.”
“It’s not really a fantasy if it’s really happening, is it?” Peter said as he stepped closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat and you broke into a dreamy smile.
“Trust me. It’s definitely a fantasy.” You sighed happily.
“Well, have a good night.” Peter said and squeezed your arm.
“You too.” You replied as you touched where his gloved hand had just been. Peter looked over his shoulder to wave at you before swinging away. Once you thought he was out of earshot, you let out a happy scream and jumped up and down. But you were never out of ear shot when it came to Peter, and he heard the whole thing with a grin on his face.
🖤🕸️🖤
chapter two is out now!
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A Shot Through the Heart
Fandom: Monsta X
Genre: Smut, natch.
Word Count: 17k (yeah, you read that right >.>)
Pairing: Hyungwon x OC
Trope: Anonymous sex, strangers to lovers
Synopsis: “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton.”
The Vibe: Hopeless romantic OC meets shameless Miami Beach party, sweet and sincere Chae Hyungwon (who’s also a bit of a pathetic loser sometimes, and I love that about him, so that’s here also), probably cringey meet-cute, definitely cringey rom-com title because obvious cheesy rom-com overtones, well-meaning friends who actually have no clue what they’re talking about, body shots, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, instant chemistry, trying (and failing) to keep things casual, unprotected (not-so) anonymous sex (thank you, dramatic irony), far too romantic for what it’s supposed to be, the usual unrealistic rom-com expectations, cute ending because the author is also a hopeless romantic
A/N: Continuing the Wonnie love agenda since no one else wants to do it for me. This was most definitely for me because I’m hyper-obsessive about Hyungwon’s every charming feature and the Unseen promotion as a whole, but I hope you enjoy it, too.
You are here for fun.
As Gwen danced from foot to foot in the raucous line, she repeated the words over and over.
You are here for fun.
With searing clarity, she could hear her roommate Marie as though they were still in the car on their long drive down from New Jersey.
“It’s Miami, okay? You’re not going for a relationship. You are here for fun. Grind up against random hot guys. Make out with a stranger. I love you, but be a little fucking unpredictable for a change. Whatever, just no crushes because, I swear to god, if you even say to me, ‘He’s really sweet, Marie! I could see myself going out with him!’, I will throw up. And if the words ‘boyfriend material’ come out of your mouth, then so help me,I’m leaving your ass in Florida.”
You are here for fun.
She couldn’t even fault her friend for the rant. Gwen formed attachments, real and imagined. Hell, she was about to celebrate her 11th anniversary of fake marriage to Dylan O’Brien even though she hadn’t watched anything with him in it in years. Almost every man she’d ever gone on a date with had been followed with a relationship that left a crater of ruinous magnitude. It drove perennial bachelorette Marie crazy considering she was always the one left behind to rip the empty cookie dough tub from her roommate’s death grip and hazmat the ground zero of all the balled-up tissues.
After the latest of Gwen’s embarrassingly short-lived “sure-thing” relationships blew up spectacularly in her face, her friend had taken her under her wing and planned to show her once and for all “how to put distance between your heart and your lady parts.”
“Let’s have a little fun at men’s expense,” Marie had proposed when she’d flaunted the extravagant hotel deal she’d scored in Gwen’s face.
Now a month later, and here they were, three nights in at a palatial hotel on Miami Beach with a pulsing club in its heart and a raucous party that trickled out onto its grand pool concourse.
Their deal had been a simple one. In exchange for saying “yes” to three bullet points on her roommate’s “good time list,” Marie would pay for the hotel rooms for their bachelorette weekend. The only other stipulation on top of that was absolutely, positively no relationships.
So far, Gwen had passed with flying colors. She’d let a man buy her a drink at the hotel bar, and she’d danced with a few strangers, all without a hint of attachment. The guys were an eclectic mix of hot that had Marie rubbing her hands together and muttering “Taste the rainbow” on ludicrous repeat, but that’s all they were—eye candy. Gwen could compartmentalize that. Her friend’s plan was working. She’d felt beautiful. She’d felt powerful. She’d felt in control of her heart for once. She was ready to conquer one last, more challenging bullet point.
“You’re young, you’re hot, but you’re too damn romantic,” Marie had scolded as she’d helped her friend accessorize before heading down for the night. “Tonight, remember your mantra. You’re here to have fun. You’re not going to invent a backstory for everyone you meet. It’s okay to be a little superficial sometimes.”
“I’m doing pretty good, aren’t I?”
“Killing it, in fact,” the spicy brunette agreed.
“Damnit, I’m still so nervous every time though,” Gwen admitted as Marie had smoothed out her friend’s blonde beachy waves.
“Yeah, I know, babe, which is why I keep urging you to dip your toe instead of deep-ending everything. Contrary to what your Nora Ephron-mutated heart tells you, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the guys you meet aren’t marriage material for Gwen Goodwin.”
“What about the one who is?”
Marie bent down and kissed her friend’s cheek. “I don’t know, but I promise you this. You didn’t meet him last night, and you’re not going to meet him tonight.”
So it had all led up to this bullet point—a ridiculous line for body shots poolside.
“Come on, you picked the best one on the list! It’s harmless,” Marie had laughed as she escorted her friend into the line. “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton. Now, I'm going to go hit on that guy over there, and, god willing, have his beautiful, obscene mouth on mine for a bit, and you’re going to spin the roulette wheel of hot and put your beautiful, obscene mouth on someone’s sexy stomach. No regrets?”
“No regrets,” Gwen agreed.
“I’ll have my eye on you, babe. If you need me, text me,” she said as she flashed her smartwatch at Gwen.
“Will do.”
“Have fun! Love you!”
“Good luck!”
Gwen watched as Marie zig-zagged through several clusters of partygoers until she reached her target, a rather burly guy with stupendous shoulders accentuated by a compression tee. Gwen couldn’t see the guy’s face, but she could see her friend’s, and it was lit up with a smile the likes of which she had never seen from the girl. She kept her fingers crossed that things would pan out as her friend hoped.
Meanwhile, Gwen turned back to her line where the shot-takers waited alongside the line of human shot glasses. She was at least twenty people back from the table, so there was no way to know with whom she might be paired. There were just as many women in the shot glass line as there were men, all of them attractive at unprecedented levels. She was grateful she was in the line she’d chosen because she didn’t think she could survive someone of their sexiness putting their mouths on her stomach.
That’s when her eyes fell on him, the shot glass with the round face and flushed lips. He was tall and slender, dressed unassumingly for someone in his decidedly sexier line. He wore a plain black tee and a pair of slim fit jeans on legs that seemed double the length of the rest of him. Other than a few silver rings on his spindly fingers, his only accessory was a pair of now-pointless sunglasses sitting on top of his fluffy dark hair. There was nothing flashy about the guy, yet she somehow wished she had a pair of her own sunglasses just to look at him.
His toned arms were stacked loosely over a wide chest that pulled the tee at his shoulders. Pretty as he was, the man didn’t talk to a soul; if he knew any of the people around him, he didn’t let on. Instead, those big, inquisitive eyes busied themselves scanning the party like a prairie dog.
He looked at her suddenly then, and the weight of his attention made Gwen’s ankle give out in her stupid high heels. She wobbled back with a yelp, but, luckily, the girl behind her caught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.
“You all right?” the girl asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Gwen mumbled along with an apology and her thanks.
“Walk much?” said some generic bro a few people back in line, and it felt like everyone at the party was looking at her.
Humiliated, Gwen risked a glance over at the shot glass, but he seemed to be the only one who had turned back, though she couldn’t help but think that a proud smile tugged at his lips.
She would give just about anything for her pajamas and a romantic comedy right about now. She contemplated slipping out of line and heading back to her room, but she’d have to clear it with Marie first because she didn’t want to just leave her friend in such a big crowd of strangers, so instead, she stayed the course with plans of making a hasty retreat right after.
As the EDM pulsed across the party deck and the palm trees shimmied overhead in the steady sea breeze, the lines dwindled quicker than she ever expected.
And of course, it was becoming abundantly clear that, short of someone passing out or running off at the last possible second, Gwen was going to be lapping tequila from the navel of the pretty boy with the prettier smile.
When there was just one couple left ahead of them, she thought about offering her spot to the nice girl behind her as a thank you. The ponytailed babe behind the pretty boy sported a crop top and a great set of abs, so technically, it would still be fun for Gwen without the creeping dread, but before she could ask the girl behind her to switch places, she heard the call from the bottle girl.
“Next!”
With a lump in her throat, Gwen approached the table alongside the man in the black shirt. He nodded to the girl behind the table and then to Gwen.
“Hey.”
“H-hey,” she said.
The bottle girl continued all business as she had that night, though she did offer the man a smile she did not offer Gwen.
While she paid for her shot, he climbed onto the bar counter easily and shimmied himself into the most comfortable position the hardwood would allow.
Everyone waited for the hem of his shirt to reveal his stomach, but it didn’t. Instead, he looked to Gwen.
“You want it, you have to do it,” he said with a toothy grin as his eyes flicked to his clothed torso.
Gwen glared at his stomach and then at his face. “Excuse me?”
He laughed and waved in surrender. “I’m kidding, just kidding!”
But it was now patently clear he knew he’d been the reason she’d stumbled, and she wasn’t going to let him halt her momentum.
You are here for fun.
Finally, the attendant grew too annoyed to keep her mouth shut and griped, “If you’re not going to take the shot, I have to—”
“Okay, okay, I’m doing it,” Gwen insisted, though she’d meant it more for her shot glass than her bartender.
With a glower at the long man stretched out before her, she pushed his shoulder back so he flattened out on the table, the grin still playing at his luscious lips finally disappearing with her determination. Her fingers curled around the hem of the t-shirt resting far too near the apex of his thighs, and, slowly, she pushed it up his abdomen. She could have just yanked it up, but she wanted to punish him for his teasing as much as she wanted to savor the reveal, so she let her palm drag across the yielding skin of his stomach.
A swath of flawless flesh appeared beneath her, tensing instinctively along the path her hand had set. Like the rest of his features, it was soft and inviting. He didn’t have washboard abs like many of the men who’d showcased on the table already; instead, she found a narrow waist flaring broader and broader the higher she pushed the shirt up his chest. His freshly tanned skin featured the gentlest dips and smoothest waves of skin she’d ever seen. His navel was delicate, cute even, though she’d never considered a bellybutton particularly cute before. All of it made Gwen’s throat feel far too dry.
The bottle girl didn’t even try to hide the way she chewed her own lip, but she poured a shot of crystalline liquid into the appetizing little divot anyway. Gwen’s shot glass laughed, borderline giggled, at the sensation, sending a slender river of booze cascading over his naked waistline.
“Cold,” he confessed.
“You’re up,” the bottle girl said to Gwen with a bitterness she also didn’t try to hide.
Gwen nodded and stole a quick glance at the man’s face. He’d propped his head on his hands now so he could watch the show and grinned so hard she expected his laugh to follow any second.
Her brow wrinkled. If he was going to play games with her, then she could damn well return the favor. Gwen splayed her hand at the hem of his jeans, her fingers spread between the contrast of silken flesh and harsh denim. She bent over and pressed her bottom lip into the pouch of skin at the edge of his navel and closed her top lip around it to form a seal. She sucked quickly, a little of his skin suctioning between her lips.
The man gasped, and his hand clasped reflexively to the back of her head as she drained the last of the liquor from his navel. The urge to kiss his tummy overwhelmed, but Gwen fought it off, though she couldn’t quite stand up with his hand still in her hair. Instead, she rolled her head to the side and caught his eye. The motion surprised him, and he yanked his hand back.
Gwen stood up and licked every honeyed droplet of booze from her lips. He tried to sit up, too, but distracted by the trail of her tongue, his hand slipped in an errant splash, and he fell back onto his elbows. It was her turn to savor a proud smile.
“One more?” asked Gwen hopefully.
He didn’t hesitate. “Okay, sure.”
“Another shot please,” she said to the bottle girl, thrusting out her card.
“Sure,” said the other woman with a well-practiced smile. “See you shortly.”
“What?”
“You can buy another shot, but you’ve got to hop back in line.”
“But we’re already here?” Gwen noted with a poignant look at the man’s exposed stomach.
“Not how it works, sweetie. See you in a bit. Next!”
With a resigned sigh, Gwen rejoined the crowd. There was only a slim hope of being paired up with the same guy again, but not knowing what else to do, she followed the snaking line to the end only to notice the man was nowhere to be found.
Gwen looked for Marie, but the crowd had swelled as the night had worn on, and she couldn't find her friend anywhere. No doubt, the girl was twirling in some random hot guy’s arms somewhere in the thicket of dancers at the other end of the concourse, but Gwen didn’t really feel like braving all those sweaty bodies.
You are here for fun.
It had been fun, she realized, but it was so short-lived that now that it was over, she also realized how little fun the rest of the night had been in comparison. Rather than spoil Marie’s good time, too, Gwen made her way to a poolside recliner and sat down to people-watch.
There were hundreds of beautiful people here, not that that was a surprise; short of some place like Los Angeles, she wasn’t sure where there was a more concentrated percentage of objective hotness. Everyone rocked a beach-ready body, many still clad in their actual swimsuits, and thanks to the tropical air, they all smelled of a perfume of sunscreen, booze, and sweat. Laughter and cheers crescendoed around her as drinks were downed and the music pumped up. Tiny asses nestled in gyrating groins as limbs snaked up and down strangers’ bodies.
But as much as there was to see, the truth was the one person Gwen wanted to watch was gone.
Another ten minutes or so had passed with her eyes firmly fixed on the body shot lines, but her shot glass never reappeared, and she found herself so painfully far from the “fun” she was supposed to be having that when a new guy sat down beside her and started to chat, she decided to invent a new backstory of her own considering Marie had banned her from inventing them for bachelors she’d met.
“I only found out mid-way through the pregnancy that my cousin was having my fiancé’s baby. So I said ‘screw them all,’ packed my shit, and drove straight down here to start having some of my own fun for once,” proclaimed Gwen with a whip and toss of her hair over her shoulder.
“Heavy,” said the bearded man with a smug, approving nod next to her, and she snickered to herself at the anticipatory predatory flash in his eyes.
But her fun at the stranger’s expense was also short-lived when she heard over her shoulder, “That’s some story.”
Gwen swiveled on her chaise to find the lithe stranger from the body shot line holding a mostly empty bottle of tequila with a spout already stuffed in its neck.
“Oh, hey,” she fumbled. “You’re still here.”
“I am.”
An awkward silenced stretched between them as she scrambled to figure out which version of herself she was supposed to be presenting.
Miraculously, the bearded man saved her at the last second. “Is this your friend?”
“Best friend actually,” said her former shot glass, “here to make sure she has all the fun she wants.”
Knowing his window had closed, the bearded man nodded and faded back into the crowd without so much as a wave goodbye, not that Gwen had room to spare another second for him now that pretty boy had returned.
“Was any of that story true?” her handsome stranger asked.
Gwen shrugged. “The having fun part is true enough. The rest might have been part of said fun.”
He smiled gently, his cheeks two kissable meringues as he added, “Sorry about before.”
“For what?”
His eyes cast down her leggings to her feet. “Is your ankle okay?”
“Oh.” Gwen wrinkled her nose and protested weakly, “Hey, that wasn’t you, you know.”
“No, of course not.”
“It was these stupid heels. I’m more of a sandals girl. I’m just not used to wearing them.”
He nodded though he was clearly suppressing a laugh. “I see. So I’m off the hook?”
Gwen cocked her head in mock consideration as she eyed the bottle in his silver-clad hand. “That depends. How are you going to make up for exposing a very tragic girl after she thought she’d gotten away with it?”
One of those rings clanked emphatically against the glass, ringing even above the club music. “What about offering a second shot like you wanted?”
He waggled the bottle for effect, the liquid inside splintering the pulsing lights.
Gwen squinted at him. “How did you…?”
He brought his finger to his lips and bent down to her ear. Thanks to the blaring music, even this close, he nearly had to shout, “I stole it.”
“What a rebel.”
“Yeah, well, I’m really motivated.”
“Uh, okay, sure. I guess that’s fair.”
“Good, because I’m all about fair. Come on. I’ll find us somewhere where you can take it.”
The innuendo simmered between them until Gwen’s thirst had expanded beyond the restraints of mere drink.
“There’s a lounger right here?” she suggested as she looked at the chaise, but he shook his head.
“That would draw to much attention. I’m a rebel and thief now, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, of course. How could I forget?”
“Maybe we can head out to the beach, or,” the stranger hedged slowly, “I have a room upstairs if you want?”
His tone was matter-of-fact, considerate even, yet sin infused his bottomless brown eyes. It was a proposition Gwen had never considered. She was a fall-in-love not a fall-in-bed kind of girl.
But.
She was not going to fall in love on this trip, and she had never seen a man who looked like this one.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she pretended to mull it over and shrugged a shoulder to sell the act, though there had only ever been one possible outcome the moment her eyes had met his.
“Maybe it’s better if we go upstairs… I mean, we don’t want them to lock you up and throw away the key.”
“I appreciate that,” he said with a smile that left little doubt how well he understood everything.
“Let me just make sure my friend is okay with it.”
He nodded, unfazed. “I’ll do the same.”
Both of them pulled out their phones, and Gwen sent a quick message to Marie.
When Gwen put away her phone, she found the man waiting with an expectant, squishy grin on his face.
“Is your friend all good?” he asked.
“All good. What about yours?”
He motioned through the crowd back toward the hotel, and as they walked, he said, “They’re all good. Turns out they all knew already. The friend who helped me distract the bartender told the rest of them anyway, which I should have figured, I guess.”
Gwen perked an eyebrow. “They knew when I didn’t, huh? You’re not just a rebel, but a cocky rebel.”
Her companion laughed and rubbed the back of his head in his chagrin. “Maybe I’m just more of a hopeful rebel. Or a lucky one seeing as I almost lost my chance.”
She laughed now, too. “Who? That guy? No way. I think I was just amusing myself since I was bored.”
“Bored? Here, I half-expected I’d find you back in the body shot line.”
“Well, I whole-hoped I’d find you back in it, too, but since you weren’t there, that poor guy had to hear a story I’m pretty sure I stole from a soap opera.”
Her companion smirked. “I guess that makes you a rebel and a thief, too.”
“I guess so.”
They chatted easily across the busy pool deck and all through the lobby, but the second the elevator doors closed them in alone together, the conversation clotted up. It was a long and mortifyingly unbroken trip to the twenty-second floor, and the only sounds were the shush-shush of the elevator and the dull thunk of the bottle as he tapped it against his thigh.
Suddenly, he cleared his throat. “Uh, kind of embarrassed to admit this, but it occurs to me I don’t know your name. I’m—”
“You know, let’s keep it that way for now, okay?” Gwen interrupted with a tight smile.
“Huh? Oh, sure, sure…” he agreed though he couldn’t have looked more floored.
“It's nothing personal. Actually, that’s sort of the point. I have a tendency to get carried away. It’s a long, boring story, ha. And a lot less colorful than my made-up ones.”
“I'm a good listener.”
“Yeah,” she said solemnly, “I can tell that about you. Which is definitely why I need to keep things firmly in the here and now.”
“Live in the moment, I can get behind that.”
“Cool.” Gwen turned hesitantly to him just as the doors to the elevator split wide. “So, is that okay with you? Because if it’s not, we’ll just toast to this super awkward elevator ride.”
The man motioned for her to go ahead of him into the hallway before he added, “I’m not the kind of guy to turn back.”
I can tell that, too… she thought resignedly.
He led Gwen down the chic hallway to his room, where she stopped short and pulled out her phone.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Just letting my friend know where I am.”
“That's smart,” he said with a nod. “I’m on notice now, huh?”
“You got that right, buddy.”
They shared a laugh, and again, Gwen was struck by how brightly the man’s face glowed and how engaging his laugh was. Another thought popped into her head just then.
“Speaking of...” she started as she raised her camera. “Smile?”
Without a trace of surprise or curiosity, he did, and it was so blinding, it threw off the exposure in her phone, which gave Gwen the perfect excuse to snap a few more.
“How did my mugshot come out?” he asked and craned his neck to steal a peek.
“You’re a matter of public record now, sir. But I imagine it will be the first mugshot to grace the cover of Vogue.”
“Nice.”
She stashed her phone without hitting send, with a small grin for her white lie. For some reason, Gwen couldn't bring herself to share him. But he didn't need to know that.
Meanwhile, the man fished his key card out of his too-tight jean pocket and ushered her inside. He took off his shoes as soon as he walked in, much to her relief, since it meant she could finally get out of her damn heels. When she looked back up, she was at a loss.
“Shit…”
His head whipped toward her, eyebrows pinched with concern. “Everything okay?”
“I mean… Your room is so much nicer than mine.”
He clutched his heart in mock relief before he said, “What’s your room like?”
“Not like this. Small and bayside. You have a balcony!”
“Oh, uh, yeah. It’s my friend’s bachelor party this weekend, so we all kind of went all out, I guess. You want to go out?”
“Hell yeah, I do!” Gwen squealed. She made a bee line past the enormous bed and whisked open the door.
The wind was stiffer twenty-two floors up, and it bombarded her skin, fresh and salty and a little sticky but uplifting. She breathed in deeply, a smile splitting her face. The half-moon shimmied across the Atlantic swells in time with the electronic beats filtering up from the party at the pool below. She couldn’t help herself—she waved at the partygoers even though they were far too small to see much this high up.
“Aw,” her companion said sweetly. “Waving to your friend?”
“Yeah,” replied Gwen with a blush. “Not that she’ll see me.”
He joined her in leaning on the railing and waving at his friends, too. When he looked back up, his smile shifted slightly, less silly and a lot sultrier. She cleared her throat lightly and headed back inside.
With her back to the huge bay windows, Gwen could finally take in the rest of the room. It was modern and cloaked in the same jeweled beach tones of her own, but it was much more spacious, with a desk and a sofa plus a pair of chairs, while, to the left behind a half-wall, the enormous bed stretched out beneath a large padded headboard.
With a tiny yelp, her companion scrambled over in a hurry to straighten the still-crumpled covers and even out the pillows.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he worked, “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s fine. It’s not like I make my bed on vacation. Or ever really.”
Gwen meant it, but that didn’t mean she could shake the undeniably sexy implication of those tossed sheet or the image of this beautiful man stretched out naked and languid in them.
Still, he dressed the bed as quickly as he could and turned around with a flushed face. Again, he mumbled, “Sorry.”
“No worries. Hey, do you care if I use your bathroom?”
“Sure, it’s right around there,” he replied, gesturing toward the other side of the bed.
It was really just an excuse to see how much fancier it was than her own, and it did not disappoint. Instead of just a shower stall, there was a huge walk-in surrounded by glass, and instantly, images of fogged windows with desperate hand smears flitted across her mind. Just around the corner was a deep jacuzzi tub that conjured just as many filthy thoughts.
This was progress, Gwen thought. Her libido was on overdrive, which meant she could safely put her heart in the backseat. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her waves had regrettably frizzed, and she’d sweated out a fair bit of makeup, but it did make her skin glow, even under the harsh LED lighting. After a quick freshen-up and a primp to make her chest is best perky self, she returned to find the man waiting in front of the main window, adjusting the tuck of his tee in his tiny waistline.
There was just something about him—his every gesture was sweet and sincere, completely without artifice. And just like that, her heart was threatening a comeback.
You are here for fun.
Gwen shuffled in with a short wave. “I think your bathroom might be as big as my hotel room.”
He grinned. “I think it’s bigger than my apartment honestly.”
“You mean you don’t live like a high roller every day?”
“Actually, I moonlight as a broke New Yorker.”
Oh shit, he’s not far from you, Gwennie…
“You’re ruining my fantasy of the millionaire playboy in town for a big business deal.”
“My apologies,” he joked with a bow.
“So, when’s the wedding?”
He cocked his head, and it was painfully cute. “The what?”
“Your friend’s wedding.”
“Oh, next month.”
“And the groom’s not going to be mad that you’ve abandoned him?”
The man smirked. “On the contrary. Pretty sure he’s looking for any excuse to get rid of me.”
“You really are public enemy number one, huh?”
“Oh, yeah, undisputed.”
As they came down from their laughter, Gwen realized how close they were standing. This close, those lips loomed like a full moon, and she basked in their plumpness. The heat between them brought the intoxicating tendrils of his cologne forward, a fresh brightness that matched his smile, though it occurred to her he may have stolen a moment to reapply it while she’d been in the bathroom. The thought made her swallow hard.
“You’re easy to talk to,” he confessed abruptly, and Gwen tensed all over.
You are here for fun.
“Even though we haven’t really talked about anything?” she retorted.
He shrugged one thick shoulder. “Maybe that’s why. I’m kind of a wallflower at parties. I mean, that whole body shot thing was just a dare from my friends anyway.”
“Mine was like that, too!” she blurted and immediately regretted it, the way he seemed to soften all over. It wasn’t just how gentle his already-round features looked, but he relaxed against the desk into a cool lean as his usually petal-shaped eyes widened with interest.
No backstories, Gwennie, she scolded herself. Put that distance between your heart and your lady parts!
“So that’s how it happens, huh?” she continued in a sultrier voice as her finger stroked the neck of the bottle. “You do one dare, and now, you’re a full-blown criminal mastermind?”
His voice had dropped, too, along with his eyelids. “Looks that way.”
“Are you a liar, too?”
“No! What?”
She chuckled and waved the bottle between them. “What about my second shot?”
“Oh, you were serious?”
Gwen gaped at him. “Aren’t you the one who stole the tequila?”
“That was just so I had an excuse to talk to you again.”
Oh no… He was painfully, unforgivably, patently cute. Gwen could practically hear Marie threatening to leave her in Florida.
“Ah,” she said to deflect, “so you did lure me here with empty promises.”
“No! I—"
“I’m teasing,” she assured, and as she studied his saucer eyes, she risked resting a hand on his bicep, which she had to stop herself from just straight up groping when she felt the twitching muscle beneath.
“Sorry,” he said. “I just… I never do stuff like this.”
“Like what? We haven’t done anything.” He looked helplessly at her, and Gwen chuckled again. “Sorry, still teasing. When I'm awkward, I make awkward jokes. I've never done anything like this either.”
“Like what?” he echoed, and they shared a tight smile, but it vanished when he looked at her much softer this time. “Seriously, I don't expect anything.”
You can't catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton…
“I know, but I do.” Gwen swished the bottle back and forth, and he offered what she could only type as a giggle.
“You’re right, you’re right. So, um, how do you want to…?”
He spun in a circle until he nearly made himself dizzy, and she grabbed his shoulders to steady him.
“Maybe, um, you should just lay on the bed?” she suggested.
“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. So, I’ll just…”
“Get on the bed?”
“Get on the bed, yeah,” he repeated. The man spared a quick moment to smooth his shirt over his chest and run a hand back through his thick black hair, which had the most fatal way of feathering back across his forehead in a very regrettable heart shape.
Since the moment she’d met him, the man had possessed a magnetism that had set him apart from all the other hot people at the party, but here in his room, he was borderline pathetic, tromping around like a lost giraffe between the living room and the bed as he emptied his pockets between the desk and the bedside table. When, at last, he was ready, he walked to the foot of the bed and plopped down. He looked back at Gwen with a sheepish grin and comically high eyebrows.
“Ready?” she asked as she raised the bottle.
“If you are.”
She nodded and followed into the bedroom, and the air shifted. In here, it was hotter and even more humid than down at the beach but without the benefit of a breeze.
He sat down at the edge of the bed, and Gwen crawled on the bed beside him. She strategized on how to best take her shot, and while she positioned herself, her knees pressed into the mattress as she sat up, he untucked his shirt and raised it himself.
At the party, body shots had been a game. Here, it was foreplay. Judging from the blackness in his eyes, he knew it, too. He laid back and propped up just a bit on his elbows, which cupped his stomach just the right amount into the sweetest little bowl.
“It’s different,” he murmured.
“Yeah, it is,” she whispered, too, because somehow every thing, every word, felt very loud. “I can take my time now.”
He didn’t say anything. He just waited.
Gwen lifted the bottle, and, as carefully as she could, she tipped it until a golden thread puddled at his belly. He didn’t flinch this time. Instead, he sucked in a breath which deepened the cup at his navel, and she was only too happy to fill it to its tasty brim.
“Perfect,” she said as she set the bottle on the floor. “Don’t move.”
She braced her hands on his thigh and his ribcage and bent forward. Her lips glossed the velvety skin there before she opened her mouth and sucked up the sweet, smooth liquor all too quickly. This time, though, she spared a moment to dip her tongue into the divot, and this made the man beneath her hiss.
She licked her lips and ventured a look up his heaving torso to find him totally expressionless save for his overblown pupils.
“Satisfied?” he asked in a voice swollen with the same darkness.
Gwen shook her head lightly. “Still thirsty.”
But she did not reach for the bottle. Instead, she put her lips to his stomach and sampled a new patch of skin. It yielded beneath her, and so did he. He let out a low groan that tightened the muscles under her lips.
Another kiss led to another and then one more as she nipped and nibbled at the tender flesh. There was something about the man that was simply and undeniably edible, and no matter how much she tasted, she could not get enough. Gwen helped herself all the way up to the delicious flare of his rib cage, and at the swell there, she risked a swirl of her tongue. His head snapped up as he panted out a heavy pair of breaths.
“You're driving me crazy,” he said with a slanted smile.
“I could say the same,” she agreed, and when she brought attention back to his stomach, she noticed a lonely freckle at his hip. Her lips raced to devour it, this time adding a graze of her teeth. He jolted.
“That tickles!” he exclaimed though it was followed by another groan.
Gwen responded with another twirl of her tongue to savor the salt on his skin, and the groan became an outright moan. Emboldened by each grateful sound, her hand slid slowly up his thigh, and soon, it bumped a rigid hill smothered by tight denim.
At the first graze, he jolted again but followed it with a simmering hiss as his hips bucked reflexively into her hand. His eagerness was going to Gwen’s head. She wanted more of his pretty moans. She wanted more of his pretty body.
Her hand moved more brazenly to stroke the outline of the intensifying hardness, but this time, she was the one moaning at the way his bulge filled her palm. Her forehead pressed into that gentle stomach as she rested her lips lazily at his hip bone. Meanwhile, her fingertips traveled up the zipper to the waist of his jeans and swept back and forth before her thumb centered over the button there.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
Gwen kissed his hip again before she answered, “You told me if I wanted it, I had to do it.”
“Ah, I said that, didn't I?”
“You did. And I want it.”
He sat up higher now, expectation on his face. He drew his lush bottom lip between his teeth, and that alone set Gwen’s blood aflame.
Without another thought, she placed a garland of kisses along the waist of his jeans, and when she undid the button there, her lips raced to taste the secret skin she’d exposed. Dimly, she realized she was getting too carried away on a chance encounter, but she couldn't stop.
She couldn’t stop.
The further her mouth charted down the open zipper track, the more powerful her desire grew. She smelled his cologne here, too, bright like the tropical air but deepening down to dark woods on a second, greedier inhale. And beneath all that was the smell of him.
Too hungry now, Gwen hooked her hands in his jeans and tugged down. He lifted his hips with zero hesitation, and soon enough, she had full access to all that she desired. She swept her hand over the black fabric still sheltering him and felt him lurch. She hummed.
Slowly, she peeled down the hem of his boxer briefs, and his cock sprung up gratefully. Above her, her pretty boy exhaled hard, which only grew raspier as her skin touched his rawness at last.
Gwen’s romantic heart had drawn her to a number of beds over the years, and she’d enjoyed some decent sex in that time, but even without entering her, she knew this man was special. All his skin had been babied, but here, he was silkiest, like satin over marble. One touch was enough to fuel an addiction that sent a blaring alarm of dread to the back of her mind that she might never touch another cock that felt like it was made just to please her.
She danced her fingertips down his wickedly hard length until she got to his base, where she squeezed appreciatively. He hissed and hummed and arched his back before he mumbled something low and deep that she wished she could make out because just the echo of its echo sounded devastating.
Gwen didn’t intend to take things so leisurely—she knew she shouldn’t be—but it seemed foolish to fast forward through what had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. Her friend’s rules be damned, she was going to enjoy every second for as long as she could make it last.
He was watching her, open-mouthed, as she held him. Their eyes met. Her breath caught.
Gwen wet her lips and pressed them to his hot, red tip and let her tongue curl into the smooth channel underneath. Her beautiful stranger let out the raspiest groan as his face disappeared from her view to sag under the weight of pleasure.
Spurred on, she invited him into her mouth now, shallow at first, but a little greedier with each pass until she could take what she could of him to the back of her throat. When she was comfortable, she found the perfect rhythm to have him singing for her with every eager suck.
And he was so noisy. It wasn’t filthy words or heaps of degradation like she’d heard plenty of times before. Between his moans and the grunts and the achy sighs, Gwen realized she’d never been with a man who had appreciated her more. It was filling her up with not just pride but confidence, and it made her want to ruin him even further.
His hand came to rest on the back of her head, but she quickly plucked it aside and pressed it into the mattress. For the briefest of moments, she released him to mumble, “Stay still.”
His shaky “okay” made her chest feel swimmy, and, instead, he balled two handfuls of sheets. But the man couldn’t help himself. Though he was hanging onto the bed with white knuckles, his hips took to lifting from the mattress, and she had to force them back down, too. She knew with just a little more speed and the addition of a helpful hand, she would get him off in no time, but she was having so much fun.
It didn’t hurt that all his whining was getting her off, too, even without a single touch. Gwen couldn’t remember a time she’d been so wet or so turned on.
Again, the stranger moaned, but this time, he added with a thick rasp, “You’re incredible. You might be my dream girl.”
It was her turn to whimper, but the vibrations traveled not just through her body and straight to her throbbing clit, but they also traveled down his length in a circuit of pleasure. He sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth as his legs tensed and struggled in the confines of the jeans still cuffing his knees.
“Can I—” he said before another grunt cut him off. “Wait. Can I just—fuck—can we take these pants off? I want to feel more of you.”
Gwen startled. She sat up on the bed and watched, numb with anticipation, as the man practically had to peel off his skinny jeans. He worked as quickly as he could, but it afforded her a flash of an ass as cute and smooth as his stomach and legs as long and delicate as his fingers. When he sat back down at the edge of the bed, he pulled off his shirt, too.
When she came to his room, Gwen hadn’t really known what to expect. It was clear they would end up in bed, but, for some reason, she never expected them to be fully naked. Now that things had taken a much more intimate turn, the casual momentum she had built quickly siphoned away.
This time, he didn’t lay back.
Here, he sat—breathless, naked, gripping his glistening cock, and staring hopefully at her.
“I’d really like to see you, too,” he asked.
As soon as he voiced his throaty wish, a fresh torrent of lust leaked between her pressed thighs. If she had worn the minidress Marie had pitched, there would have been no hiding it.
Gwen wanted to be coy or funny or anything other than tragically eager for this man, but how could she say no to such hopeful eyes and freckled lips?
With a red face and sweaty hands, she slipped out of her shirt, leaving her in her bra and leggings. She’d been wearing the same damn burgundy lace piece for two years, but now her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t undo the last clasp she’d put on hundreds of times.
He smiled knowingly and leaned in to wrap his arms around her. It only took him a moment to rescue her, but in his arms, time had stopped. Skin to skin changed everything. Gwen was spiraling, and the only way to make it stop was to steer into her tailspin.
Their lips met not in a clatter, but gently and with curiosity. Even at first brush, the way his puffy top lip notched into the crease of her lips felt like habit, like it had been there many times before and should return countless more times.
His hands cupped her cheeks briefly before they slid back in tandem to tangle in her disheveled waves. Only then, as he held her fiercely, did his tongue slip into her mouth to their shared whimper. One of his hands glided from her hair, down the back of her neck and over her shoulder, fingertips dancing like raindrops with the same biting chill thanks to the metal at his knuckles. He traced the side of her breast and then its underside all while his lips meshed with hers and his tongue curled deliciously against the roof of her mouth.
Trapped in the riptide of the moment, Gwen reached for him, too. His skin was just as soft at his neck and shoulders as it was at his waist, and she couldn’t stop stroking every inch she could access. He was only too happy to encourage her touches, even going so far to redirect her hand from his ribs to his hair like he wanted her to pet him. She let out a needy sigh that his mouth immediately gobbled up.
It wasn’t a surprise that the man was an attentive kisser. What surprised Gwen was how much she felt in the kiss. He was pouring something into her even as he seemed to drink from her, and she didn’t want it to stop.
She didn’t want it to ever stop.
You are here for fun.
Marie’s voice in the back of Gwen’s head was the ice water the blonde needed to disentangle from her beautiful stranger. Because that was all he was.
A beautiful stranger.
Gwen pulled back. He blinked slowly at her, but she kissed his flushed lips briefly to soften the transition. The hand of hers he’d placed in his hair drifted down his arm to his thigh, and whatever emotion had knitted his brows a moment ago corrupted. With a gnaw of her bottom lip, she slipped off the bed to the floor. His eyes followed.
He didn’t ask Gwen to kneel between his legs, but he didn’t have to. She was getting good at telling exactly what he’d like best—far too good at it.
His thighs were much creamier than the Florida caramel that warmed the rest of him, and as she shuffled into position between them, her hands worked higher and higher up their breadth. His knees tightened at her shoulders. Now that she was shirtless, she had no defense against the zaps of electricity that came with each stolen moment of raw contact.
His cock strained between his hips, the head shiny with lust and the veins pulsing along its length. Gwen gripped his hilt and stroked a few times, and he sighed in relief.
Now that he was sitting up, their dynamic swapped. He loomed over her. Shadows darkened what had always been a bright face. His enormous hands braced at the edge of the bed, firing prominent veins along his forearms. His shoulders corded with heavy muscle previously concealed by his round edges. The planes of his stomach creased as he bent over her. He wasn’t about to neglect even a second of his front row seat.
Gwen brought her lips back to his member and picked right back up where she’d left off, only this time she was noisier. Wet slurps and hungry hums echoed up from between his legs, and with each one, he got a little louder, too.
This time when his massive hand curled around the back of her head, Gwen reveled in it. His nails scratched deliciously against her scalp as he threaded her hair through those elegant fingers and tugged mindlessly. She was grateful she’d forgotten to strip off her leggings or she would have been dripping shamelessly on the carpet.
At last, she picked up speed, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on her seal around his demanding thickness. Her lips chased her fist up and down his shaft so he was never without a moment of her full attention.
The messier she savored him, the more urgent his whines got and the more he bucked underneath her. The hand in her hair was now a fist full of a makeshift ponytail. Mouth full, she raised her eyes to his face. A swirl of her tongue around his tip was all it took to rip a cry from his hunkered chest.
“Wait, wait, wait!” he demanded and pushed her shoulders back. “Wow, okay, you have to stop. I’m going to cum.”
“That’s the idea,” Gwen replied as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
But the man shook his head. “I want to make this last, and I definitely don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You’re not.”
“Good… Good.”
A pregnant silence fell between them. Both of them considered where to direct the needle of their night next, but he was faster.
“You know, the view from up here really is something,” he said.
“Ha ha,” Gwen said drily, but the earnest look on his face knocked her sarcasm down a few pegs.
“Come up and see.”
He offered both his hands, and once she took them, he helped her up to the edge of the bed. When she was seated beside him again, he kissed her sweetly.
When he stopped, his forehead rocked against hers, and her eyes fluttered open.
“I really want to taste you,” he confessed in a whisper.
Gwen swallowed hard.
“You do?”
“Desperately.”
“It’s just—” she fumbled, painfully aware of the panic in her voice.
“You don’t want me to?”
She didn’t know how to explain herself without pitiful embarrassment. Most of the men Gwen had dated were keen for a blowjob but always had a dozen reasons to move things along right after. Over time, it had given her a heavy insecurity, which Marie had always assured her was utter bullshit, yet still it persisted. Gwen didn’t think she could recover from someone this desirable rejecting her, even if he was a total stranger.
“No, I mean, yeah, if you really want,” she blundered, “but… it’s just—”
She bit her lip, and he cocked his head patiently. His hand squeezed her knee, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth.
“I’m kind of a mess down there.”
“Yeah?” he said hopefully—to her complete and utter shock. “Come on, you can’t tease me like that. Now, I have to taste you.”
“What if— It might take me awhile,” she admitted from behind her hands.
Gently, he lowered them from her face to her lap, where he held them like a friend, though his hooded eyes and honeyed voice told a very different story.
“I hope it does.”
Gwen gasped and closed her eyes to steady herself. “What about you?”
He laughed. “This is about me.”
The best she could manage was a slow nod, but that was all the stranger needed.
He dropped to his knees on the floor and spread her legs enough to rub his huge palms up her thighs and back down again. The more he soothed her, the more her legs parted on their own so he could sit taller—and closer—between them. On the next sweep up, his hands lingered at the crest of her thighs so his thumbs could stroke over her swollen sex still imprisoned in her leggings.
“Feel good?” he asked.
“So good,” she replied as she collapsed onto the mattress and threw an arm over her eyes.
“Good. You can watch if you want, you know.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I’d recover from something like that. You’re, like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen as it is. That might actually ruin me for life.”
He chuckled, but it was tainted with pride. “Maybe that’s the idea.”
Gwen shot up to her elbows to argue, but that was the exact moment the man wriggled his slender fingers under her waistband and then her underwear to peel them both off. Cold air attacked her core, and though it was a relief to finally be free of her sticky prison, she was unprepared for the pad of his finger to graze over the seam of her lips. She shivered and whined.
He hummed. “You’re really feeding my ego here, sweetheart.”
His thumbs resumed the same stroke as before, but since it was over her bare lips this time, the intensity amplified exponentially. Each wave parted her folds a bit, and there was no escaping the knowledge that her arousal leaked heavily every time.
“What a pretty sight,” he murmured.
Foolishly, Gwen stole a look at the man, and the image of his keen eyes fixed on her wet cunt branded her brain just as she’d feared. She whimpered, zipping her bottom lip between her teeth to near shreds as he played with her.
She felt the first brush of his lips against her not in the careless rush of an obligation but as a leisurely kiss of a seasoned lover. There, his mouth lingered only to part for his purposeful tongue. He licked up along her seam once—twice—and on the third pass, his fingers parted her core wide. The exposure had her keening mindlessly, but when his tongue swiped through the secret skin, she cried at the top of her lungs. Her arm pressed over her eyes hard enough to create starbursts behind her lids while her other arm pressed over her mouth.
For just a moment, he pulled back. Another burst of cool air blasted her core as he hummed again, this time dreamily. “Perfect.”
He kissed the meat of her thigh once, and then drove on heedlessly. He teased her entrance for a moment before he swirled that wicked tongue around her clit with a mind-numbing rhythm. Through all of it, Gwen sank deeper into pleasure. As vocal as he had been, she managed to outdo him even with her makeshift gag. It was completely mortifying but also completely out of her control.
He didn’t try to stop her writhing or her moaning. Instead, he used them both to his advantage. Whenever she squirmed, he chased, and it made the promise of release a near certainty.
It was incredible. It was terrifying.
It shouldn’t be this easy. It had never been this easy before.
Gwen felt the blossom of his lips nibbling at her aching clit, and before she could brace herself, he’d taken her in his mouth. It wasn’t just his delicious suction that made her lungs seize but the way his tongue undulated across her eager bud.
And then he pressed a fingertip to her entrance.
Gwen’s hands flew to the sheets and dug into the mattress. Her head snapped up as she screamed, “Oh my god!”
Her eyes flew open. He was waiting.
Damn heart-shaped hair and damn heavy eyes stole what was left of her sanity right before he eased his finger inside her.
At least the unprecedented bliss gave Gwen the small mercy of forcing her flat to the bed. Her back arched, her nipples tightened, and her voice gave out. The only thing she could do was pant like some unbound creature.
His fingers were so long—world-record long, she thought drunkenly—and they explored parts of her she’d never even known were there. He didn’t race through her either, but primed her the same as she’d primed him, the devil. In only a matter of a few plunges, he knew her in ways she’d never even known herself.
In and out, in and out, he pumped that perilously long finger, each stroke sealed with a kiss of metal and knuckle. Her body hungered louder and messier, worse even than she’d promised him. Her shameless pussy dribbled like it had never been touched before, and Gwen was very, very glad she could hide in the crook of her arm.
And then he added a second finger.
The stretch was vision-whitening, the depth dizzying, but still his tongue insisted on speeding her to her ledge. Even with her face covered, she turned away because looking at him was like risking looking into the sun.
“I’m going to— I’m going to—” she stammered.
His mouth lifted then, but before Gwen could protest, he brought his other fingers to her clit. There, he kept a thorough pace just shy of what she needed. No doubt, he knew it just as she had known it with him, but with the tables turned, it felt unexpectedly cruel.
As if to contradict that, he tenderly kissed her thigh, and basic instinct drove her to look at him.
He smiled at her, and, with grit in his voice, he asked, “You going to cum for me, beautiful?”
“Yes!” cried Gwen, shuddering on his fingers. “Yes, yes, yes!”
His fingers moved faster now, across her throbbing hill as well as inside her. Pressure like she’d never felt built between her hips. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to think.
And it all happened faster than she could ever have imagined.
She unwound.
Eyes winched shut, Gwen tore at the sheets as she arched, every muscle clamped in ecstasy, before everything released and she slumped glassy-eyed onto the mattress. Somewhere below her, she heard a little refrain of happy hums and dimly felt the slick circle of a tongue collecting all that she had released.
She panted as she came down from her high, her arm flung over her face once again, feeling everything and nothing all at once. As she worked to center herself, Gwen shivered.
“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the stranger who was once again idly massaging her thighs, this time with the most delicious domesticity. “You kind of glow when you cum.”
“Oh, shut up!” she wailed as she curled into a ball.
“What? Sorry, but I mean it. You do this cute little thing with your toes, like a kitten paw.”
Gwen heard him pantomiming something in the sheets, but she was too busy cringing into another universe, one where she’d kept at least a little of her dignity. She burrowed her head deeper into her arms to fight back how endearing she found him.
“Hey,” he said with the sincerity of concern. “You okay?”
“Mm-hm.”
“You liked it, right?”
Gwen peeked out through a small window behind her arms and found the man seated beside her on the bed. He looked down at her with eyes no longer blackened exclusively by desire but softened with care. She bit her lip and lifted her head as she held his gaze.
A beat passed before she said, “I loved it.”
“Well then, if that’s the case…” he said softly.
He leaned down and kissed her as lightly as a feather brushing skin. When he pulled back, there was the sweet temptation of darkness tinting his eyes once more.
“Will you let me inside you?”
“Why did you have to say it like that?” whimpered Gwen as she flopped back onto the mattress.
“I’m sorry,” he said though he sounded anything but. “Is this better? Please let me fuck you.”
She hissed. “You’re a terrible, terrible man.”
“Yeah, but I’ll make you feel so good, and I did ask nicely.”
“You did…” she murmured as she leaned up.
Their lips barely had time to fully enmesh because he had to help guide her up to the pillows since the only thing she could manage for the moment was a beached fish, half-hearted wiggle.
If Gwen thought she’d have a moment to recover between heated kisses, she was dead wrong. He caged her in beneath him, his heavy cock thudding unmistakably against her mound as his body flattened against hers. Her legs spread instinctively. Perhaps she should have taken the many, many hints that she would never have any control over herself with this man, but the way her body simply opened for him was more than a little pathetic.
At first, she threaded both hands in his hair, and he groaned into her mouth, but every little thing he did made her restless for more. She kept a hand fixed in his hair while the other now squeezed and groped the length of his back. Even if she couldn’t see it at the moment, his shape drove her wild. Not only did his definition heat her hotter than she’d ever felt in her life, but, fully pressed against hers, his skin was as decadent as cashmere.
His member, on the other hand, was as heavy and demanding as a stone on her mound. Every time he rutted against her, the base of his shaft brushing her engorged folds, she lost a little more of her sanity. She could probably cum again just like this, completely empty and yet feeling so fulfilled.
They passed some time in each other’s mouths without further expectation, but the weightier his cock pressed, the more impossible it was to ignore her basest needs. As he’d been able to do all night, he read her easily.
Unwilling to leave her lips, he groped blindly at the nightstand until he’d found what he was looking for and had to break their kiss. He held up a condom, his eyebrows up on his sweet, swollen-lipped face with the unasked question.
“Forget it,” Gwen said with a huff. “We’ve already crossed the line, I’m on the pill, and I really just want to feel you.”
“Oh, shit, are you—” he said, but she cupped his cheeks and kissed him hungrily.
She was being stupid, but the fuck if she cared.
Gwen whimpered with every sweep of his tongue, but those gave way to hitching cries as his long fingers trailed from her cheek down her arm to her hip where they danced in unreadable designs across her flesh. It was so playful, so charming that her heart fluttered to a totally different rhythm than it had all night. And that was dangerous. She needed to move this along at last.
You are here for fun.
Her hips jerked beneath him, tilting up in a kiss far filthier and needier than even their mouths’, and he pulled back with a ragged hiss.
“You are so wet again,” he growled with a glance down between their bodies.
“I can’t help what you’re doing to me.”
He cocked his head to the side, looking handsomer than any man really had a right. “Yeah?”
“Yes…” she sighed. “You make me so desperate.”
She drove her hips up again, her overheated sex grazing his base once more. His eyes flared, and Gwen felt the urge to cower.
Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pushed it above her head, pinning it there by her wrist.
Dimly, the bass from the music far below drummed through the walls, but it was little more than a backing track to their tattered breath.
His stare was more commanding, more powerful even than the hot-forged iron branding her just shy of her center.
“I—”
Despite how badly Gwen yearned to hear the rest, he let whatever thought it was simmer on the heavily perfumed air enveloping them. His eyes searched her, from his ring-clad hand clasping her wrist to her sweat-studded breasts and back, at last, to her parted mouth.
He dove back down to her lips with another growl while his other hand fumbled between their bodies. After a moment, his hips lifted, and she felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance at last.
She needed air to calm her ragged nerves, but thief that he was, he stole everything from her with another nibble of her lips. As his tongue entered her mouth again, he pushed his length inside her walls.
Gwen tore from his kiss to unleash the reediest moan of her life.
“Oh fuck,” he grunted. “Did you feel that?”
She had no idea what he meant, which made it all the more dangerous because she knew exactly what she felt.
Everything.
Why did he have to kiss her just then?
Why did he have to fill her like he was the only one who should ever do it again?
You’re idealizing, Gwennie, she scrambled to remind her sex-saturated mind, but she couldn’t convince herself to stop even if she knew she was. This was a man who was every bit as perfect as her stupid romantic self wanted to believe.
All Gwen could do was moan and grasp the back of his head.
He followed the weight of her hand and pressed his face into the juncture of her neck to kiss her reverentially.
“Go slow,” she implored.
He hummed in agreement and eased his hips back to draw his length to its limit before gliding back in as though he were savoring her. The moment he bottomed out, her mouth fell open in a silent wail. Gwen had never felt so full.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Open up for me.”
His voice penetrated as deeply as his cock and rendered her putty in his hands.
Each sweep of his hips was catastrophic, but it was even worse since his body smothered hers. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Gwen was glad she didn’t have use of her other hand or she’d have wrapped him up in her arms already.
She thought after the first few strokes that he’d pick up speed, but he seemed content to while away their night just like this. The only change to his smooth rhythm was the rough emphasis he added to his every thrust that drove the air out of her lungs each time. It was like he was trying to drive deeper and deeper and deeper inside of her.
Each penetration afforded her the sexiest view of the horizon of his body, and now that she was this far gone, she lifted her head so she wouldn't miss another moment. He moved with the grace of water, and the current threatened to drown her just as easily. The swell of his ass rose and fell over the heave of his back.
His whines and grunts came back with a vengeance, with the added mercilessness of being uttered along her skin. It was a devastating reminder that as much pleasure as she drew from him, he was just as greedy for her body, too.
“Need to fuck you harder,” he warned in a voice heavy with gravel. “I need to.”
“I want you to,” Gwen echoed.
If she thought this would be the reason he pulled back from this ridiculous intimacy, she was dead wrong. Instead, he stilled inside her as he lifted to his elbows, but it only brought his searing gaze to her. His enormous hand soared up to cup her cheek. His thumb traced her bottom lip before, at last, he planted his hand firmly on the mattress.
His first few thrusts stayed slow, but soon he gained speed and, with it, power. His hips slapped against hers, and each time, it sounded wetter and wetter, but it all should have been louder.
The difference was, now that they couldn’t tear their eyes away from one another, neither seemed capable of making a sound. It was all Gwen could do to remember to breathe.
Harder and harder, he drove into her until her tits were bouncing and each fuck pushed rhythmic, vibrating cries from her. Still, she could tell they were both holding something back from one another.
They knew the moment they ended, whatever this was had to end, too.
His luscious mouth parted. There were words there, half-formed, but those he held back, too, though she starved to know them.
The next thing Gwen knew, he released her wrist to push her knee up and back. The angle shifted, and she had no choice but to rip her eyes from his to watch as his cock disappeared inside her greedy cunt.
She let out a tattered moan before she hiccupped out, “So. Fucking. Good.”
“I want to be deeper,” he answered back.
Gwen’s eyes rolled back in her head. “You’re—ah—you’re already so deep.”
But he didn’t seem to hear her. He dropped to her chest again, his hips rutting truly desperately at last. He buried his face in her neck and his nose in her hair as his lips glanced across her skin in the unintentional kiss that came with every thrust.
“Deeper…” he murmured as though hypnotized.
“Oh my god!”
He hitched her thigh higher up his side so she could feel with devastating consequence the way his ribs flared with every frantic gulp of air.
“Wrap your leg around me,” he instructed.
Gwen dug her heel into the meat of his back, and he grunted, but it still wasn’t enough for him.
“Hold me tighter, please.”
As she’d feared, it was a mistake the moment she wrapped her arms around him. Strangers fucking didn’t embrace. Yet here she was, clinging on with the last of her sanity to his sturdy shoulder blades.
He smelled so good—like sex and summer—and it imprinted on her mind.
“So. Deep,” she stuttered.
The way he stretched her out clouded her mind until the only thing she could find through the fog was him.
How could he possess her so fully but make her so desperate for more of him?
Him.
“Give me your hand,” he demanded in a rush.
Gwen let one hand fall from his back to the bed, and he grabbed it quickly and pushed it up over her head again, only this time, his fingers threaded through hers and squeezed as tightly as her walls squeezed his shaft.
His thrusts switched to shorter, shallower, much faster now. Each time, his cockhead brushed over a spot inside her that robbed her of all sound and all thought. Just like that, he’d reduced her to nothing but quivering nerves and trembling muscles.
Gwen dug her nails roughly into his back same as she squeezed his hand and let him ride her for all she was worth.
Since his cheek pressed against hers, she heard his every grunt in relentless stereo. He was too needy, too desperate. It was only magnifying those same feelings inside her.
Her skin burned with sweat. Her eyes burned from squeezing them against the overwhelming pleasure. Her core burned from the friction of his perfect fucking.
He was panting in her ear, and she could feel the curl of his lip as he snarled.
Gwen moved her free hand into his hair as she clutched his head to her like a lover.
“Baby,” she cried, “baby, I’m going to cum again.”
He let out the most pitiful whine she’d ever heard in her life as his hips spurred even faster.
“Baby.”
The pull was there, starting at her chest and dragging her down.
Down.
Down.
“Give it to me,” he urged, the words nearly broken under the crushing weight of his desperation.
“Baby!”
This time when Gwen said it, it was a strangled little thing, the last breath of a woman before she disappeared beneath the waves.
It was different, cumming with his cock inside her instead of his fingers. Her walls frantically beckoned him to disappear within her, willing him to never leave. She shivered and shook and screamed with the power of a release she’d never thought herself capable.
He fucked her through it all, the smoky curl of his self-satisfied “yes…” unfurling across her skin.
And when at last Gwen had no more aftershocks to give, she laid there too limp to hold on to him at all. Her leg slipped to the bed and her hand from his hair and her fingers slackened in his, though he refused to let her go.
His strokes had grown erratic, each one accompanied by the sloppy sounds of her catastrophic release.
“Where do you want me to cum?” he said hurriedly.
Gwen knew what she wanted—what her body was demanding. She wanted him to fill her up. She wanted this perfectly handsome perfect stranger to cum deep inside her so she should could hold on to a little bit of him even after she walked out the door.
But this was the end—not just of their passionate sex but their time together. If she didn’t put distance between them right now, she was in for an even more terrible fall.
No feelings, just sex.
“My face,” she blurted.
Gwen regretted it instantly. That wasn’t what she wanted at all, and she braced for the humiliation she deserved.
But, instead, he pulled out with a strangled cry and came in the tangle of bed sheets beside him.
“I’m sorry,” he managed between heaves of breath and frantic jerks of his spasming cock. “I’m sorry.”
She watched his broad, glistening back flare as he hid himself from her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Her fingertips slipped in the sheen of sweat there, and his head whipped back toward her.
“I couldn’t do that,” he said dejectedly. “You’re just so pretty, I’m sorry. I know that’s what you wanted, but—”
“I didn’t mean it anyway,” she said. “I don’t know why I said it.”
Something fluttered across his dark features before his brow furrowed, and he turned away again. “Damnit, I should have never listened to my friends.”
Gwen quirked her head even as she covered up with the sheet. “Your friends?”
The man tumbled onto the mattress and spread out like a winded starfish without a single care for his nakedness, and she felt a little shame at the way she ogled that delicious stomach and his softening length now glossy and still leaking onto his thigh.
He sighed.
He was so different now from the dark, intense man he’d been only moments ago. Back was the brilliance that emanated from within that almost compelled Gwen to close her eyes when she looked at him. She could hardly believe it was the same man who’d brought her to two earth-shaking orgasms in no time at all.
“Can I confess something to you?” he said.
Gwen tensed all over, but she managed a nod of her head. “Okay.”
“This isn’t really my thing,” he continued, and her heart plummeted in ways it shouldn’t considering she’d just fucked a total stranger.
“Oh…”
Gwen realized too late how apparent the disappointment in her voice was when the man shot up and swiveled to her, his hands waving in defense. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I mean, I have a hard time keeping things… simple. It wasn’t just the body shot thing that was a dare. Tonight was kind of my friends’ idea. They want me to be more… unattached, I guess?”
“That’s what my friend said, too,” Gwen laughed.
“Really?” He joined her laugh until, finally, his shoulders sagged with a light sigh as he covered his lower half with the sheet at last.
“Yeah.”
“I thought I was doing pretty good there, too, but— That was just so much more than I ever expected—you’re kind of more than I expected—and I really don’t want you to think I was just using you.”
“I don’t.”
“Good. Because…” He paused then, massaging his lips together as his eyes fell to his lap. “I think their dare kind of backfired anyway. Or it’s entirely possible I’m a hopeless case. So… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”
At this, Gwen stiffened. Her eyes snagged on his naked frame. Though the sheet swaddled his hips and thighs, it did nothing to hide his tummy or his shoulders or his bowed head, nor did it conceal his pencil legs and feet poking sweetly over the edge of the bed. And then she realized they were both tucked under that sheet, and it would be so, so easy to just lay back and fall asleep with him.
There it was again, that urge to romanticize someone she didn’t even know, yet everything about the guy screamed boyfriend—or worse.
Oh no.
Boyfriend.
The one word Marie had made Gwen swear not to use this weekend.
And damned if her roommate hadn’t been right all along. The hard truth was, Gwen didn’t know this man. She didn’t know what he did, she didn’t know his past, she didn’t know his ethnicity or even his damn name, and that was all there was to it. To assign any more meaning to it was every bit as foolish as everyone always reminded her she was.
Dread welled in her stomach and weighted her limbs. The best Gwen could do was offer a tight smile. “I’d really like that, but my friend has our whole day planned.”
“Oh.” He looked crestfallen, but he picked himself up quickly and slipped out of the bed in a shy, awkward rush while trying to keep his modesty with the edge of the sheet still draped around his hips. He stretched out his leg as far as he could to hook the band of his jeans with his toe. He tried to keep conversation flowing even as he struggled with the cutest little grunts very different to the ones that had just been uttered for her ears only. “Oh yeah? Going to check out the beach or the city?”
“I’m not sure,” Gwen said. The truth was they had no plans, but she had to lie because her whole body screamed to meet him again, and if she did, there was no way of keeping things superficial. The man was too cute, too sincere, and far, far too sexy to turn down a second time. “I’m not one for itineraries. I kind of go where my heart leads me.”
He stopped, jeans sagging in hand as he looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, same.”
But then his smile fell away, and he raced to shimmy into his jeans, too in a hurry to even bother with his underwear, and Gwen turned her head and busied herself poking at the remote on the bedside table.
Over her shoulder, she asked, “So, what will you guys get up to then? More bachelor party stuff?”
“I never can tell with them. Even when one of the guys makes plans, the others always seem to change them. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Easiest way to get through life,” she agreed. Gwen wanted to flinch at her own voice, but she didn’t want to call any more attention to her terrible bedside manner than she already had.
In the end, it didn’t matter. The man beside her was too perceptive, and he picked up her cues instantly. “Let me just grab the rest of my clothes and clean up in the bathroom so you can get dressed.”
“Would you mind if I go first? You know, since...”
Maybe if she tried hard enough, her awkwardness could compact her into a handful of atoms, and she could just disappear.
“Oh, of course, duh. Sure. Absolutely,” he bumbled.
Gwen grabbed the haphazard pile at the foot of the bed and practically sprinted to the bathroom where she tried to lose herself in the repetition of cleanliness. At least that was automatic.
Against her better judgment, she checked herself in the mirror. She looked every bit as undone as he had made her, and she hastily combed her fingers through her bed head so she didn’t scream “harlot” when she made her way back through the hallways. She rinsed her face and neck and swished some water to freshen her breath, and when she was done, she felt brave enough to face the music.
When Gwen returned to the bedroom, she found the man dressed as he had been, though all his clothes bore the same noticeable wrinkles and bagginess that hers did.
He smiled at her, and she swallowed roughly.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
It was agony. She just wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel him again. She wanted to hear him in the shell of her ear again.
“So, this was really fun,” she said lamely. “Thanks for the drinks and, you know, everything else.”
He laughed shyly.
This time, as she faced his open complexion and expressive eyes, she had no choice but to be sincere. “I had a really great time.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “I really didn’t expect to meet someone like you either, but I’m glad I did.”
“Ah!” he exclaimed before he unexpectedly bowed to her. “Thank you. I feel the same.”
Gwen burst out laughing, which helped ease the pang in her heart at having to pull away. “You’re cute.”
He shrugged a shoulder and laughed, too, though his was much more forced. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and the pair stood there in a stalemate. At last, he took a step back, and she took one forward.
“So…”
“So…” he echoed.
Gwen bit the inside of her cheek roughly in the desperate hope it would wake her up, and, thankfully, the flare of pain combatted the butterflies before they could overtake her. Tightly, she began, “I’m going to head out, I think.”
“Sure, yeah,” he said as he ushered her back into the living room to the door. “Yeah, you probably should. Are you good to walk back to your room? Wait, this is your hotel, right? Do I need to call you an Uber?”
“Yeah, I’m here. All good.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
They exchanged another round of confused smiles before Gwen, fool that she was, lurched up onto her tip toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back, his smile slanted with an irresistible dopiness.
“You sure you don’t want me to walk you back?”
“You probably shouldn’t.”
He nodded as though he understood, but Gwen wasn’t sure she did even though she’d been the one to say it.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.
“Night,” he replied. “Take care.”
He opened his hotel door, and with a nod of her head first, Gwen turned and headed down the hall with the burning notion that he was watching her walk away.
She barely made it to the elevator before she had her phone in hand, intending to text Marie that she was headed back, but Gwen got sidetracked by the memory of what now lurked in her gallery.
She opened her camera roll only to be assaulted immediately by several snaps of his heart-shaped hair and buoyant cheeks framing his dazzling smile.
“He's cute. Is that your boyfriend?”
Gwen’s head shot up. She hadn’t even realized the elevator had stopped to acquire another passenger at some point. The bleached blonde girl smiled, her wild gold eyeliner glinting in the lowlight like some forest sprite sent there just to taunt her.
Gwen locked her phone and stuffed it in her leggings pocket with a shake of her head. “Uh. Oh, no, he’s just a friend.”
“Cute friend.”
“Yeah.”
The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and Gwen nodded to the other woman. “This is me. Have a good night.”
“You too!”
Back at her room, Gwen showered quickly, hoping it would be easier to distance herself from the forbidden word now buzzing in her brain like neon.
Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.
She considered a shower, but that meant too much time to think just as much as it meant washing off the remnants of his cologne. She could do that in the morning once her heart had sobered up from its dopamine surge.
Gwen dressed for bed the same mechanical way she had back in Room 2281, and once she was safely into her pajamas, the familiarity brought the exhaustion in her muscles to the surface. She was only too happy to climb into bed after that, and tired as she was, she remembered to send her text to Marie.
Her finger hovered over the gallery icon again, but at the last second, she forced her phone off and let the night take hold of her.
Gwen woke to banging at her door. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and sat up slowly since her muscles ached from head to toe. She glanced at the thick drapes and caught the wan strip of light along the edges, but she had no clue what time it was until she grabbed her phone to find that it was just past noon. Even more surprisingly, she noted the slew of notifications.
Nine texts and four missed calls, all from Marie.
The banging continued, and Gwen groaned. “Give me a minute!”
At last, it quieted, and she shuffled like a geriatric over to the peephole. There, warped in the fish eye lens, was her roommate looking the perfect cross between annoyed and desperate. Gwen unlocked the door, and Marie rushed in.
“Finally,” the brunette said. “I was getting seriously worried.”
“I told you I made it back,” Gwen corrected.
“Yeah, but then you didn’t answer me at all, and I thought maybe you were passed out or something.”
The blonde squinted as she studied her friend now pacing the length of the hotel room. “Are you sure that’s it? Seems to me you’re the one who’s not okay.”
Marie shrugged a shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” her roommate said, still pacing. “Everything.”
Still exhausted, Gwen sat back on the bed and waited.
“Shit, it’s just— You know what, let's go to the pool. Maybe it will wash that guy out of my system.”
“That guy? The one from the party last night? Did you have a bad night?”
“No! Worse!” Marie wailed and flopped onto the bed. “He wasn't just scalding hot. He was likable! Ugh, I'm devastated. Catching feelings is your thing, girl, not mine. Damnit, I need a distraction. Tell me about your night. Please, don’t spare a single fucking detail.”
It was Gwen’s turn to shrug a shoulder. “I had fun.”
“So much fun you're not even going to tell your friend a single detail?” But then Marie's eyes narrowed, and her roommate’s skin bristled. “Or you had too much fun?”
“Hey, I slept in my own room last night, thank you.”
Marie whined. “Shit, I know. I must be projecting.”
“So what the hell happened with you last night?” Gwen said, only too happy to turn the attention away from her as she shuffled into the bathroom for her usual morning routine.
“I hardly know. We were dancing and drinking, no big deal, so I figured it was just going to be the usual fun, and it was fun, but, shit, he was just different, you know? He was like one of those lead guys from your movies, all gentlemanly and shit but more, too. Like he’s got secrets, but not the kind you want to run from, the kind you want to know. Oh my god, what am I even saying?”
Gwen smiled. “So, he was hot and charming? How is that different from the other guys you hook up with?”
“Gwennie, I didn’t even tell you about the sex. Shit, the way he moved his hips! There should be a law. And he was so diligent. He knew exactly what I wanted, and I didn't have to say a word, which was good because the only ones I could utter were swears. And I just couldn’t keep my hands off of him, you know? Fuck, not just his muscles, but his hair…” Marie laid there slack-jawed at the memory, her hands pressed over her belly.
“Sounds like you got the unforgettable night you were gunning for.”
“You don’t get it, babe. Even as he was giving me the dicking down of my life, this guy—he was, like, quietly sweet and funny? I don’t know how to explain it. He could just… smile, and it would make me laugh, like, even when he was inside, and somehow that was still super hot, you know?”
Gwen burst out laughing.
“See!” said Marie, gesturing at her roommate as she exploded up from the bed.
“I see,” the blonde teased with a lingering grin.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just, you know who you sound like?”
“You.”
“Me.”
Marie sighed. “Shit, I know. You know the worst part?”
“What?”
“This guy asked me to stay after.”
“Oh…”
“I mean, it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time I considered staying. Ain’t that some shit? But what would be the point, right?”
“Yeah…” Gwen said slowly as she thought of her thick-lipped lover. Marie’s unexpected dilemma had been just what Gwen needed to forget the ache in her core and the bigger ache in her chest, but now, it was a mirror reflecting things back far too vividly.
“Shit, huh?”
“Yeah. Shit.”
“You know the only thing to do, right?”
“Don't you dare,” Gwen warned.
But Marie was already up and moving to the door. “We’re going to the pool, and I'm going to find another hot guy because hot guys are a dime a dozen in Miami, right? I'm going to cleanse the palate.”
“Yeah, that's not how that works.”
“Look, I've never thought a guy was husband material before, let alone a one-night stand, so what do you suggest I do, Ms. Ephron?”
Gwen scowled. “Don't ask me. I've been getting it wrong so long that I'm not even sure I could trust myself to know when it was right.”
“Okay then. For lack of absolutely any other plan, this is what we’re doing. Put your swimsuit on, gorgeous. Let’s see how much Vitamin D we can get.”
Gwen sighed, but the truth was Marie’s distraction did help her forget the feeling of being surrounded by the stranger she couldn’t shake, so she slipped into her bikini, fought hard not to open her gallery yet again, and decided to dive headfirst into something new like her friend suggested if only to prove to herself once and for all that she’d idealized everything about last night.
Marie joined her in the hallway decked out in her cutest Miami-approved string bikini, already smelling of sunscreen and Flowerbomb. “Let’s do this.”
The pair chatted about their day and where they might go for their last night in town, all while studiously avoiding the topic of last night. They padded through the extravagant lobby along with a sea of other swimsuit-ed guests, their flip-flops smacking across the marble like theme music, until they emerged into the blistering Florida sun.
The pool looked very different in the daylight. There was no trace of the stage or the bars, and there was certainly no body shot table left out. It was just an ocean of sun-bleached concrete thrusting straight up to the white sands of Miami Beach, broken only by an enormous aquamarine pool, dozens of lavish cabanas, and a manmade forest of towering palms.
“Wait,” said Gwen as she scouted the bustling crowd stretching all the way out to the blue sea beyond, “you want the pool or—”
“Oh my god!” shouted Marie as she squealed to a stop and slipped behind Gwen. “It's him!”
“Who? The guy from last night? Where?”
“There, right at the edge of the pool. The one who’s shaped like a yield sign telling me slow down and give in to him again and again and again…”
“Marie!” she shouted and whirled around to face her friend.
“Oh my god, Gwennie, you have to hold me back or I am going to do irreparable damage here. Shit, shit, shit! I can’t believe I’m the one saying this. Fuck. He's looking right at me now, and he's waving with that stupid cute teddy bear smile, fuck. What do I do! What do I do!”
Gwen grabbed her friend’s shoulders and shook her until Marie looked at her. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to go over there, and I want to talk to him, and I want to hear his whole entire life story and what he wants in a woman, and then I want to take him back to my hotel room and be that woman.”
“Oh, girl,” Gwen laughed, “I never want to hear advice from you about this ever again.”
“That’s fine, just please come with me. I don’t want to talk to him alone.”
“Who are you, and what did you do with Marie?”
The brunette grimaced as she squeezed Gwen’s hands. “I don’t know! Help me!”
“Okay, now, I need to see the guy who broke my friend.”
Gwen turned from Marie toward the pool in time to catch the man who’d unmade her roommate over the course of one night. He was every bit as hot as Marie had described, with a chiseled jaw and even more chiseled abs, and he was indeed shaped like a triangle, which could be appreciated even easier since he was only in swim trunks. His skin had been worshipped by the sun, and he was sparkling thanks to a fresh dip in the pool. He lowered his muscular arm to sweep his fingers back through his sopping wet hair, and somewhere beside her, her friend whimpered.
But the blonde could only spend a fraction of a second on everything else around her because beside Marie’s hunk now was the very man who had unmade Gwen last night.
Time stopped.
He, too, was fresh out of the pool, with a towel ringing his neck and shoulders as swollen droplets rained down from thick, haphazard locks. He was out of breath, his chest heaving from his swim and his pale lips hanging open as he gulped air, just as they had when he’d fucked her to the brink of insanity.
But his eyes were as steady as ever, and they were fixed firmly on Gwen.
“Should we go over?” asked Marie, but her friend couldn’t move.
Instead, the two men began to walk the long perimeter before the bronzed man cut out the inconvenience and hopped back in the pool to wade across. Gwen was pretty sure she’d never again see anything more life-altering than these two shirtless heartthrobs pressing determinedly through the water with the ripples surging around their matching narrow waists.
The pair climbed out in horrible, horrible unison, their wet thighs flexing in time with their arms as water rushed off in diamond falls, and it was all terribly loud in Gwen’s ears. It only amplified when her stranger smiled in his darling tight-lipped way.
They padded across the concrete to the little swath of grass under a palm where the two ladies had been paralyzed.
“Hi, hello,” said the deep-voiced bronzed man. “It’s nice to see you again, Marie.”
“Hey, Hyunwoo,” she replied. Maybe it would sound casual to the strangers, but Gwen didn’t miss the uncharacteristic tremble in her friend’s voice.
“Good day for a swim,” he observed as he glanced up at the sun through the palm fronds and rubbed the back of his neck. “You planning on the pool or the ocean?”
“We hadn’t decided.”
“Ah, is this your friend you told me about?”
Marie nodded and took the chance to cling to her roommate’s hand, and with that, gained some strength. “Oh, yeah, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is Hyunwoo.”
Gwen felt the sharp squeeze at her hand, which was the only thing that made her realize she’d been staring unceasingly at her own pretty boy. She whipped her attention to Hyunwoo to smile and wave, but she could feel the burn of the other man’s eyes until she felt more naked than she had in his bed. She didn’t dare look back.
“Nice to meet you,” Hyunwoo said with that teddy bear smile, as Marie had called it. He turned toward his shirtless friend and added, “This is—”
“Hey!” came an exuberant call from across the pool in one of the loudest voices Gwen had ever heard. There stood yet another handsome man with hair dyed honey blond and chipper eyes waving at them with both arms like a used car lot inflatable. “Hey! Ask them if they want to join us.”
“Minhyuk,” scoffed the remaining stranger with a roll of his eyes, but Hyunwoo shrugged his mouth.
“What do you say, ladies? We have a cabana over there. Lunch is on its way, and we ordered lots.”
Marie giggled nervously and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I remember how much you said you like eating. I mean, if it’s cool with everybody…”
The brunette looked desperately at Gwen and squeezed her hand tighter than ever, and all eyes looked to the blonde.
“Sure, that’s cool,” said Gwen though she was anything but.
She was burning under the sun though it was nothing to the way she burned under the magnifying glass of cruel fate. Here, before the gentle gaze of the man she had forced herself to walk away from, everything came into calamitous focus.
His laugh, his easiness, his openness, his beauty. Their chemistry, their connection, their compatibility, their flaws.
Maybe Gwen had been a fool in love an embarrassing number of times, but she realized now that maybe all those mistakes had served a purpose. She could see clearly for the first time what all those men had lacked, and she’d be a much bigger fool to turn back a second time from something that felt undeniably different.
“You coming?” Marie called, and only then did Gwen realize Hyunwoo and her friend were already on their way to the cabana.
Beside her, her shot glass waited, smiling as he always seemed to be in her presence with that delicious bellybutton still glistening though this time it was from lingering pool water.
“Didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to ever see you again,” he said.
“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Gwen laughed awkwardly as she took the lead and followed her friend.
With his long legs, he caught up in a single stride, and together, they walked the long perimeter of the pool without any complaint.
“Bad at what?” he asked.
“Keeping promises to our friends.”
“Nah. Maybe it was just a dumb promise to make in the first place. And anyway,” he said, looking at her keenly over a bare shoulder, “aren’t you the one who told me no itineraries?”
“Oh yeah,” she said with a red-cheeked chuckle.
I go where my heart leads…
“I take it Hyunwoo’s a part of the bachelor party?” Gwen said.
“Yup. There’s eight of us, including the groom and his brother. You’ll like them, just hopefully not as much as you like me.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And who says I like you?”
“I do. At least, I hope you do. Or maybe I’m just trying to manifest it.”
Gwen smiled shyly and nodded. “You’re right. I do.”
“Kind of funny how this worked out, huh? Your friend and my friend meeting up. Kind of feels like…”
“Blind dumb luck?”
“Destiny.” He studied her for a moment and then returned his eyes to the path around the pool. “I was going to say destiny.”
Her heart was beating out of her chest again, but this time, there was no scolding voice inside her head to temper it.
“You’re still cute,” she blurted.
“And you’re still driving me crazy.” His eyes roved over her skimpily clad figure, and he pressed his lips together. “So… Gwen, huh? That’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”
She was not prepared for the way it would feel to hear her name from his exquisite lips.
The front of her flip-flop rolled, and she stumbled forward with a cry and a flail before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.
“I’ve got you,” he assured. He stared down at her fondly as she sheltered in the shade of his wide shoulders. Slowly, a smirk crept onto his lips. “Last time, you said it was the heels and you were a sandals girl. What’s your excuse today?”
“I’m clumsy, okay.”
“For everyone or just for me?” he teased. He leaned down, his lips to her hair, and added, “It’s okay if you say just for me. I’m kind of hoping for it.”
Gwen looked up into those brown eyes. The night had brought out their smoky depths, but the day brought out their playful hickory dimensions. So, too, had the merciless sun illuminated the finest spray of freckles dappling his cheek to puffy cheek, to devastating consequence.
“Maybe I’d admit it if I even knew who you were,” she said.
He stopped, and she stopped, too. Gwen looked at him with nervous eyes and an even more skittish heart.
She could forgive herself for all her stupid mistakes if it meant she could just get it right this one time…
Please. Just this once…
He lifted his head, caught her gaze, and closed the gap between them with one big step.
“In that case…”
Slowly, he bent down as his large hands gripped her cheeks, and just as his lips grazed hers gentler than the sea breeze, he spoke.
“So nice to finally meet you, Gwen. I’m Hyungwon.”
A/N: I know, I know. The muse obviously tried to turn this into a whole rom-com novel, but instead, I remained resolute to close this on the whimsical romantic open ending I originally intended. It got too out-of-hand as it was, if you couldn’t tell lol, so let your own romantic hearts take it from here, loves. <3 Thanks for reading!
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Uggh my bestie just told me I should write myself a birthday fic with one of my favorite guys… and I just had to say…
Don’t make me choose bestie!!! There’s just so many good ones!!!
Pedro Pascal
Colby brock
Richard Madden
Dick Grayson
Joe Keery
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (a.k.a Miles Teller…)
Dylan O’Brian
Damon Salvatore….
Must I go on…?! How can she tell me just to pick one?!
Especially when I absolutely adore all of their Characters too!!! Lord help me and the 23rd is just around the corner. Someone please take this birthday fic over for me 😂 I’m already super stressed with WIPs!!! I don’t even have a plot or anything!!! I’m just stuck like what would I do have my parents surprise me for my birthday with one of them?! Idk 😂
And I mean like it’s absolutely no fun writing out your own birthday fic cause then you get no surprises ya know what I mean?! Uggh I know I really shouldn’t too cause I already have other fics I desperately need to finish.
LORD HELP ME MY BESTIE HAS SENT ME DOWN A FREAKING MENTAL CRISIS 😂
#bradley bradshaw imagine#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfic#colby brock#colby brock imagine#colby brock x reader#richard madden x reader#richard madden#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson#joe keery imagine#joe keery#dylan obrien imagine#dylan o’brien#damon salvatore#damon salvatore imagine
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Drive-In Shenanigans
𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟭.𝟲𝗸+
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗦𝗲𝗺𝗶-𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗪𝗿𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘!) 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗽𝗻𝘃
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜’𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗹! 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝟯 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝗶𝗰𝘆 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻! 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!
𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙛!
It’s a warm August Friday. School has started but we’re still trying to hold onto the summer. It’s shorts and t-shirt weather, my favorite kind of weather. So Stiles and I make our way to the one place you’d always find us during those summer months. The drive-in theater.
“What’re you looking for?” Stiles asks me, watching as I dig through my bag. “I thought I brought my chapstick.” I say, still searching. I pay no attention to Stiles who’s reaching into his pocket and hands me his.
“Ugh, cherry.” I look at him disapprovingly. “Hey, you wanted chapstick, I gave you chapstick.” He chuckles, and I sigh, removing the cap.
“You’ll be fine, plus you’ll forget about it once the movie starts.” Stiles says as we pull up the the drive-in theater. We drive up and pay at the window and Stiles finds a good spot to park. Once he’s found an open spot he likes, he backs into it. Turning his body, his right arm stretched out to my seat, looking through the back windshield. 𝙂𝙤𝙙…
“Okay, let’s do this.” Stiles says excitedly, parking the jeep and getting out. I hop out too and walk around the jeep to the trunk. Stiles is opening up the hatch and there it is. Probably the equally most fun and disgusting place in his jeep, depending on who you ask. We’ve got plenty of blankets laying in the back to cushion us while we watch the movie.
Stiles is practically shaking from excitement, we’ve planned this drive-in date a month ahead. I mean, Stiles and I come to the drive-in A LOT. However, tonight is different because, of course, they’re playing Star Wars.
I hop up into the back of the jeep along with Stiles, sitting on his right. We get comfy and sit against the back seat. There’s no one parked in front of us, thank God, and there’s not really anyone at the drive-in at all this time around.
“It’s pretty deserted tonight.” I turn my head to him, admiring his face as the light from the screen shines on him. “Yeah, what’s up with that? Where’s all the Star Wars fans at, huh?” He complains, almost baffled that he may be the only die-hard Star Wars fan in Beacon Hills.
“I don’t know, maybe they’d just rather watch the movies at home.” I reply, giggling; already knowing what he’s going to say. “That’s outrageous. This is so much better than sitting on the couch. This is where the fun is.” Stiles exasperates, flailing his arms at the screen.
I just giggle, admiring him. “I mean, this is more fun that watching it at my house, right?” He asks, turning his head to me. I don’t answer at first, instead leaning in to give him a kiss; which he accepts almost instantaneously.
“Yes, Stiles, this is more fun. Plus, you know how much I love the drive-in.” I tell him, leaning my head on his right shoulder as the commercials end and the beginning of the movie starts. Stiles brings his arm around my back, which urges me closer. In all honesty, I’ve been dying to be with Stiles; just the two of us. Since school has started, we haven’t had a single moment for ourselves. Starting of school work, and of course along with whatever Scott gets us into, we get really busy really fast. And I’m itching for Stiles’ touch.
As the movie plays, Stiles’ full attention is towards the screen. He absentmindedly makes circles with his thumb as his hand resides on my waist. My left arm is around behind his back, my other in my lap. My legs are curled up now, I rest them on his thigh. My head still rests in that sweet spot between his shoulder and his arm that was made just for me. I can’t stop thinking about his arm around me. My mind running wild.
It’s about a fourth of the way trough the movie that I can’t take it anymore. I trail the hand I have behind his back lower, deciding to slip it under and up his shirt. My hands must be cold, because he gets a little chill as I do so. Even then, I trail my hand over his bare skin, which is now at my disposal. I draw designs softly with my nails, scratching his back lightly.
Stiles hums, finally acknowledging me. “Mm, that feels good.” He mumbles, but eyes not leaving the screen. I crane my neck up slightly, my face now mere millimeters away from his exposed neck. “Does it?” I whisper, leaning up to kiss his neck. One kiss. Two, three. My hand in my lap slides to his.
“Babe, we’re watching a movie.” He warns me, now fully aware of my intentions. I slide my hand up to his chest. “What’s that gotta do with anything?” I counter, giving his neck a few more kisses. He sighs, I know I’m getting to him.
“You know this happens every time we have a movie night, right? Is there something you wanna tell me, Y/N? Does fine cinematography turn you on?” Stiles tries to play with me, ease his own temptations. But I’ve already got him where I want him.
“No, you do though.” I reply, sliding my hand from his chest down to the waist band of his jeans. He lets in a sharp breath as I dip my fingers into his pants to grip his belt buckle. “We’re in public.” He warns again, but I don’t listen.
“That’s what makes it so fun.” I reply, slowly undoing his belt, and he lets me. I get his belt loose and unbutton his jeans, unzipping them agonizingly slow. Stiles has by now given up on trying to act cool, and is now practically itching to be touched. There’s already a tent in his boxers as I pull his jeans down just a bit.
Stiles uses his right arm that’s still around me to urge me into his lap, and I oblige. I straddle him, both my hands now on his chest, and he pulls me into a kiss. I grind onto him as his arms slink to my waist, going to unbutton my shorts as if second nature.
He unzips my shorts, revealing just enough to see the the little bow at the top of my panties. “Awe, fuck.” He lets out, before dipping a hand down my panties to where he knows I want him. I moan as he teases my entrance, and his mouth envelopes mine in another kiss. I bring a hand down to grope him through his boxers.
I throw my head back as Stiles finally slips a finger inside me, then two. I try to be quiet, but as he rocks his fingers back and forth, trying to be quiet is near impossible. I then drop my head to the crook of his neck, my hot breath hitting him.
“Stiles, need you so bad.” I say, now plunging my hand into his boxers to grab him, and he hisses. I use my thumb to play with his tip, spreading the pre cum. Then, without warning, Stiles pulls his fingers from my shorts. I whine as he grabs one of the many blankets in the trunk to cover our waists.
It’s then that his hands urge my shorts down and off my legs, and I pull his boxers down just enough to free him. “Can you be quiet?” Stiles looks at me, I can tell that being in public turns him on, he just won’t admit it. He likes the thought of being caught almost as much as I do.
“Yes.” Is all I reply with before he’s lining himself up with me before putting his hands on my hips to urge me down. I try not to let out a moan as I slowly sink down, Stiles stretching me fully. Once I’ve taken all of him, I place my hands on either of his shoulders. I slowly start to bounce on his cock, Stiles watching with his mouth hanging open in awe. It’s at this point that I now know for a fact that he likes it when I ride him the most.
I rock my hips against his, the movie now completely forgotten. I’m so focused on Stiles that I barely notice his hand going down to my little bundle of nerves. When I feel him starting to rub circles, I start to lose my momentum. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He taunts me.
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, “Y’so good, Sti.” I begin to babble, something that Stiles frequently takes advantage of.
“Yeah, ya like when I take care of you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Like when I give you what you want?”
“Oh, yes.”
Stiles starts to buck his hips, thrusting up into me, and I can barely take it. I can tell he’s chasing his high the by way way he hisses and by the sweat that begins to form on his hairline. He’s still assaulting my clit when I speak up.
“Stiles, I’m gonna cum.” I warn him, and he pulls his other hand from my hip to cover my mouth as I do. And suddenly I can no longer bounce on him, all I can do is ride out what he’s giving to me.
Stiles still covers my mouth and begins to thrust up hard and fast, and I can barely take any more. But not before he pulls out and strings of white are splayed over my thigh. He throws his head back against the back seat, mouth hanging agape.
I scoop up his ropes with a finger, but wait for him to lift his head up to look at me before I bring my finger to my lips. I lick it clean, and Stiles could quite possibly be the hungriest man I’ve ever seen.
“We seriously can’t even make it one movie without fucking. I owe Scott 5 bucks.”
𝟏/𝟏𝟗/𝟐𝟒
#dylan obrien#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski imagine#teen wolf#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles stilinski masterlist#stiles x reader#stiles stilinski fluff#stiles stilinski smut#stiles stilinski one shot#stiles stilinski imagines#stiles smut#stiles stilinski fanfic#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o’brien#dylan obrien x reader#dylan o’brien fanfic#dylan o’brien imagine#dylan obrien imagine#dylan obrien fanfic#dylan obrien smut
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One of Those Days* | Mitch Rapp
Summary: Mitch has returned home from a mission to find that you need a little extra love.
And who is he to deny you?
Word Count: 1.3k
Dedicated to @finelinesss 💞
“Look at me. Look at me.”
Your eyelashes warily flutter open, head falling back against Mitch’s shoulder so you can see him in the reflection.
“That’s it,” he seethes, strong arm tightening around your middle. “Such a good little whore when you wanna be, hm?”
You shiver in his embrace, enamored by the way he speaks to you. The rough edge to his voice. The low, salacious purr as his dark beard brushes your cheek. The way his long fingers toy with your clit as he fucks into you from behind.
You nod to answer his question, knowing how much he hates to be left waiting.
The corner of his mouth dances with the idea of smirking but when his eyes find yours, you watch his expression darken.
At first, you’re unsure why, until you remember what led you to this moment in the first place.
Mitch had returned home from a mission to find you in bed, curled up into a ball, clinging onto one of his shirts as you tried not to cry.
After making his way to your side, he attempted to find out what was wrong. But you didn’t really know. You were just…sad. Pulled down by the weight of your unexplainable grief. To the point where it felt like you couldn’t even breathe.
Maybe it was because you missed him. Maybe it was because you knew he’d be leaving you again not even eight hours after returning home. Maybe it was because all you wanted to do…was have him hold you.
Either way, seeing the concern in his eyes as he crouched down in front of you nearly tipped you over.
But Mitch had made himself more than familiar with you and these bouts of sadness.
And he’d learned only one thing can really help:
A good, hard fucking.
He’d kissed you with so much fervor that it forced your breath to hitch, helping ease the panic in your chest. And you wanted to thank him, but he didn’t want to hear it. He only wanted to hear your soft, needy whimpers of pleasure.
Minutes later, he had you stripped and pressed against the wall as he got down onto his knees to taste you. Of course, it wouldn’t be an afternoon with Mitch if he didn’t edge you a few times first. He kept you there for what felt like hours. Yanking you to the edge of release only to abandon you moments before you fell. It was cruel, and painful…and everything.
And once he was sure these were different tears streaming down your face, he felt satisfied.
Next, he took hold of your wrist and flung you around until your cheek met the wallpaper and his large palm met your ass.
The sharp sound echoed around the room as you groaned and tried not to squirm back into his touch.
“That’s for not telling me how much you needed me,” he hissed, teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. Then, another spank. “And that’s for being my good little slut.”
He didn’t stop until you finally came. And just when you thought he was through…he led you over to the full-length mirror.
Which is where you’ve been for the past twenty minutes. Mitch’s stamina has always been rather impressive and today is no exception. You already know he’s holding off just so he can keep playing with you. Distracting you. Giving you enough marks and bruises to remind you of him while he’s gone.
Not that you’d really need them to remember him.
“How’s it feel, hm?” he asks, and you let your eyes trail down the veins in his arms as he continues thrusting into you. It makes you smile. “S’this what you wanted? Wanted to be thrown around and abused?”
Again, you nod, unable to answer verbally. Especially not now that his hand has found your throat to give it a good squeeze.
“I know, baby.” He sounds proud of you. Proud of the way you’re behaving for him, even when this is all about you. “Such a good fucking girl for me. Always. Always so fucking good. Make Daddy so proud, don’t you?”
The nickname makes you gasp as your lashes begin to flutter, overwhelmed by the need for him and the pressure to your neck.
You know he did it on purpose. Can see the smugness on his face as he reaches up to brush his thumb down your lip.
The droplets of blood that had begun to collect from a previous kiss smear across his finger and your chin as he drags it down…before bringing it to his own mouth.
You watch him suck your blood off his finger. Indulge in the way he groans, and at the way he presses his chest into your back as if to consume you.
That’s what does it for you. Staring at him, and loving him, and feeling him. You come and he’s a half-second behind. Filling you up as your knees just about give out from beneath you.
And you love the sounds he makes. Love the way he groans deeply before burying his face in your neck. As he tries to kiss you through it but can’t quite find the strength to do so as it sweeps him under.
You feel proud of the way you can make him come undone. Feel proud of how easily he loses his self-control for you. How willing he is to wrap himself around your finger.
Missing him breaks your heart.
But having him…makes it all worth it.
When he finally drops his hand from your throat, you move to speak. To thank him or whisper his name, but his head is already shaking.
“No,” he murmurs, turning you around to kiss you before dragging you back to the bed. “None of that. Just gonna hold you, okay?”
“Mitch—” you begin with a teasing smile, but his firm expression remains put.
“I mean it,” he repeats, almost as if to warn you. “Want you to be a good girl and come lay in my arms, okay?”
“Mitch—”
“Now.”
And you smirk as you allow him to guide you down onto the mattress. His strong arms quickly encircling around your frame as he pulls you into his chest. Your face meets his slightly sweaty skin as you giggle, and he buries his lips into your forehead.
You breathe him in for a good minute or two as he rubs his palms up and down your spin. Helping to bring you back to this moment. Even though your brain is trying to take you to the next one.
“Mitch?” you whisper, eyes falling shut as you press your mouth to his sternum, feeling the way his heart thumps against your touch.
“Yes, baby?”
A beat.
“I love you.”
He’s still for a moment before he’s somehow tugging you closer and tangling his legs with yours.
“I love you,” he repeats back, that confident voice of his now a broken rasp. “So fucking much. Hate leaving you like this.”
“I know,” you tell him. “But you have to. I’d never want to get in the way of your job.”
“You are my job,” he tells you, with so much earnest vulnerability that it makes your head spin. “Being here with you is all I want to do. Fuck this other shit. I mean it. Just want to make you happy.”
You smile, head tilting back to see him. “You do. Always.”
He takes hold of your chin, a look of indecision on his face. Almost as if he doesn’t believe you.
Then…he sighs, and presses his lips to yours. “Did so good for me, baby. So fucking proud of you.”
You flush at his praise, smiling as he trails his kisses down your cheek. “Always, Daddy.”
He grins. “How about I take you to dinner? Wanna just be with you before I have to go.”
The reminder makes your heart lurch but the promise of a meal with him by your side quickly distracts you. Even after everything, he’s still taking care of you.
“I’d like that,” you whisper, nuzzling your face into his palm.
He smiles.
“That’s my girl.”
~ Other Dylan Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
#mitch#mitch rapp#mitch rapp request#mitch rapp blurb#mitch rapp smut#mitch rapp concept#mitch rapp one shot#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp x you#american assasin#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien mitch rapp#smut#mitch rapp angst#dylan o’brien#dylan o'brien one shot#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien x you
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Dylan O’Brien’s Characters Masterlist
Smut - ❤️
Fluff - ✨
Angst - 🖤
Dark content - ❗️ (noncon elements)
─��� ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
main masterlist
𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅:
༺˚ʚ Stiles Stilinski ɞ˚༻
Enemies With Benefits ❤️ 🖤 ✨ (on hold)
Stalker!reader hcs pt. 1
Stalker!reader hcs pt. 2
༺˚ʚ Mitch Rapp ɞ˚༻
Russian Roulette ❤️
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔:
༺˚ʚ Void Stiles ɞ˚༻
Untitled dub con knife play one shot
#stiles stilinski x reader smut#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles stilinski#teen wolf#mitch rapp smut#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp#american assassin#void stiles x reader#void stiles#void stiles smut#dylan obrien masterlist#smut#fluff#angst
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•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄. ❞✭・.✫・
supernovafics!
✭•*⁀➷ a series of one shots inspired by songs from the album “folklore” by taylor swift .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“the one” ━ dylan o’brien
in which a breakup at a coffee shop brings about an unlikely friend, and the potential for something more
“cardigan” ━ steve harrington
in which it had been twelve years since you last saw steve harrington. and you never thought about him, mainly because you’d forced yourself not to. but, suddenly, it was hard to avoid thoughts or reminders of him when after all of those years, you finally saw him again. it was an abrupt moment that oh so quickly brought back memories and old feelings that managed to do a number of things; confuse, scare, and worry you. after everything that happened between you two, you fully believed that you would never want to talk to him again. but maybe that was the exact thing that needed to happen
“the last great american dynasty” ━ ransom drysdale (18+)
in which you thought you were done with him, but there was something about ransom that made it so hard to not give in to him
“exile” ━ ari levinson
in which it had been more than a year since you had last spoken to or seen ari, and with the painful way things ended between you both you were completely okay with never speaking to him again. however, it is a birthday party that finally places you both in the same vicinity and leads to one too many awkward and emotional encounters
“my tears ricochet” ━ andy barber
in which you and andy are going through a divorce, for reasons that were mainly his doing. however, most nights, you find it way too hard to stay away from him
“mirrorball” ━ peter parker
in which peter can see that you’ve changed so much in the past three months and he desperately wants the old you back. however, being honest is hard because he doesn’t want to lose you completely
“seven” ━ peter parker
in which you didn’t expect to become friends with peter, in fact, you wanted to avoid him at all costs after the first time you meet one another it isn’t during the best of circumstances for you. however, after a few more chance encounters, you both discover that you may need each other more than you both are letting on
“august” ━ steve harrington
in which the summer of ‘84 was both the best and worst time of your life
“this is me trying” ━ steve harrington
in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you
“illicit affairs” (part 1) (part 2) ━ tom holland
in which you didn’t expect to end up in this “thing” with tom. a thing that you hated referring to as an affair even though that was technically correct. all of this was selfish and sometimes you hated yourself for it, but somehow you found yourself having such a strong love for tom in such a short amount of time that it negated all of the ways in which you knew this was wrong. however, all good things must come to an end, right?
“invisible string” ━ steve harrington
in which a plethora of coincidences keep pushing you and steve toward each other and you kind of hate it
“mad woman” ━ frank castle
in which you want to get revenge on the people that killed your brother, but you needed frank’s help to do so
“epiphany” ━ steve rogers (18+)
in which when steve is gone all you do is worry about him, but when he’s back all of that stress is washed away. this time, though, things are different
“betty” ━ steve harrington
in which you didn’t expect to see steve at this party, but of course he showed up, and suddenly you’re stuck having a conversation that you never expected to have with him. a conversation that was filled with all of the words that you had been dying to hear, but in your head it was all coming a little too late
“peace” ━ steve harrington
in which you and steve run into each other at a party. it’s been months since you two last talked— which was during a conversation that had ended on the sourest of notes— but now here you both are at a party that neither of you really even want to be at. just for a moment it feels okay to pretend that everything is fine between you two, but then it gets too hard. and instead, it’s unspokenly decided that perhaps this is the chance for you both to get that closure that neither of you got all those months ago
“hoax” ━ frank castle (18+)
in which you know that frank can’t fully give you what you want, but you can’t find it in you to completely let him go
#chris evans x reader#tom holland x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#andy barber x reader#dylan o'brien x reader#steve rogers x reader#nomad!steve x reader#peter parker x reader#folklore#steve harrington x reader
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thanks for the tag @cwilbah !! :]
last song I listened to- the lucky one by taylor swift (had red on shuffle in the shower)
last book I read- American Assassin by Vince flynn !! hella good I’m so in love w Mitch Rapp (imagining Dylan o’brien as a fucked up cia agent Does Things to me okay)
last film- my roomies and I watched Holes the other day it was my first time watching pre good
last tv show- I got to the middle of the last season of teen wolf then started from the beginning LOL
last video game- Mario party
last thing I googled- on my phone,, the Mitch rapp books in order (moms asking for bday gift ideas) on my laptop,, the once upon a jester vod (Ultimate comfort vod I’ve watched it 7 times)
last thing I ate- 🥯
sweet savoury or spicy- sweet !!
amount of sleep- it’s either like 6 or 10 hours most nights
currently reading- Kill Shot by Vince flynn
currently watching- I restarted stranger things bc I missed hopper and Steve I’m on s2 ep5💪🏻
tagging @galacticasher @ksbbb @wpmz @sapybara if y’all want🫶🏻
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♯┆samuel .ᐟ ★