#dylan o'brien fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freedomfireflies · 11 months

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The Prism*

Summary: Harry and Dylan don't have a thing in common except for their hatred.

That...and their insatiable thirst for you.

Word Count: 11k (I have no excuse for this, I was in heat)

*This is a Harry Styles and Dylan O'Brien crossover of sorts! I know that's not everybody's thing, so please feel no pressure to read! This part will contain Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

The Prism.

Boston's very own sex club. Boston's best underground sex club.

Secret, but not unknown, The Prism is nothing short of legendary. The parties, the memories, the clients, the exclusivity. All of it making The Prism what it is.

This is where you find yourself one Friday evening. With your on again, off again boy-toy Harry by your side.

You figure it’s a good way to welcome in the weekend. A quick fuck to reset the stress from the previous week. A habit that’s becoming rather typical for you. Especially with Harry, who offers you nothing more than some good cock.

He might be a pain in your ass, but he certainly does know his way around your body. A talent that’s proven even now as he rests his hand on your thigh while you take a sip of your Sprite.

The touches always start innocently enough. A quick squeeze to your knee beneath the table as you laugh. He’ll make some comment about how perfect your dress is for easy access. How fun it would be to fuck you right there in the booth. How thrilling it would be to make everybody watch.

And everybody would watch. And they wouldn’t care. Because that’s just…what The Prism does. It’s why you’re all here. No judgements, no consequences…just sex.

And right as this thought occurs to you, Harry’s fingers begin their journey up your inner thigh. They always find themselves there eventually, and you aren’t about to argue. Especially with how determined his touch is tonight.

You’re tempted to wonder why but can’t find the willpower to do so as the soft stroking against your skin crawls higher.

Out of reflex, your legs begin to squeeze shut around his hand while your fingers grip onto the edge of your seat.

You turn toward him, face nuzzling into his shoulder as if to hide. Because you’re so smitten by this man and his touch and this feeling he’s giving you.

But when you glance up at him, maybe in an attempt to encourage him to finally touch you…you see that his eyes are not on you.

They’re on something in the distance.

Focused, and cocky, and somewhat angry.

And just as you’re beginning to ask yourself why…you hear footsteps. Growing louder and louder until they stop right behind you.

“Well, well, well.”

The new voice is enough to startle you, but it isn’t enough to deter Harry’s touch. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. Doesn’t offer you a moment of reprieve. No, he keeps pressing his thumb over the dampening spot of your underwear as you slowly turn to see who’s approached.

And to your surprise, and slight horror…you find Dylan.

Dylan, your friend of nearly eight years, looming above where you sit in the booth. Hands in his pockets, a smirk pulling at his lips, and his shirt unbuttoned about halfway down his chest.

For a moment, he eyes Harry’s wrist as it continues to disappear beneath the hem of your dress.

And then, he looks up. Finds you. Studies you for a moment as you quickly attempt to push Harry out and play coy.

“Hi,” you breathe, frowning when your attempts at shoving are unsuccessful. Harry won’t let himself be moved away from you, and you want to smack him.

And now you understand the look on his face. Understand why he kept his focus on the man across the room.

Dylan and Harry can’t fucking stand each other. You’re not sure why, but it’s been like this since the moment you got the outrageously idiotic idea to introduce them.

Dylan thinks you can do better than Harry.

Which, truthfully…you probably can.

And Harry thinks Dylan needs to mind his own fucking business.

Which, truthfully…he probably does.

But you never found the need to take a side. Because what you do with Harry only matters inside the bedroom.

And your friendship with Dylan matters outside of the bedroom.

There’s no need for the two relationships to ever overlap or interact.

Except for now.

Dylan’s smirk widens at your attempt at a nonchalant greeting, but he knows he’s caught you off guard. “Hi,” he returns.

“What, um…what a coincidence,” you say, clearing your throat as you squeeze Harry’s hand between your fingers.

“Isn’t it?” Dylan muses, nodding once as he looks down at you.

You swallow.

“Funny…this is the last place I imagined seeing you,” he continues, allowing for one glance at the man beside you, his eyebrow cocking up.

You clear your throat once more. “Oh, well, you know. We didn’t have much to do, and I’ve heard the mozzarella sticks are to die for.”

It’s a horrible cover. You know he’s not buying it, and Harry’s snort of amusement certainly doesn’t help your cause.

But Dylan graciously begins to grin, almost as if to appease you. “Is that so?”

You nod. “Yes. Yup. In fact, now that we’ve tried them, we’re probably just…gonna head home.”

“Oh, really? Already?”

“Yeah. Just…have a nice night in. Relax. Maybe watch a movie. Or two. Or three. Movies are fun. Aren’t movies fun?”

You’re rambling. You need to stop. But you don’t know what else to do. Don’t know how to look Dylan in the eye as Harry’s hand continues to tease you underneath your dress.

“Such fun,” Dylan agrees before he runs his tongue over his teeth. “But…I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”

Now, it’s Harry’s turn to look intrigued. He leans closer, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he regards the confident man on the other side of the table.

“Why, um…why not?” you ask hesitantly, feeling rather caught between these two alpha-males.

There’s a pause as Dylan regards you, his attention falling down to your chest which is heaving beneath the fancy material of your outfit.

It makes him smile.

He leans closer. “Because what kind of friend would I be…if I made you cum around his fingers?”

Your eyes just about pop out of your head as you blink at him, stunned by the implication that he did in fact see what Harry was doing.

“I’d say a pretty fucking shitty one,” Dylan continues, placing his hands on the table as his head dips closer to you. “And am I a shitty friend?”

You don’t know what to do. Have no answer to offer him.

And just when you’re thinking you’d like to walk into the middle of traffic to avoid this interaction altogether…you feel Harry squeeze your thigh.

Either he’s furious with Dylan for showing up and intruding…or he’s reminding you to answer.

Both theories make your stomach flip.

“No,” you murmur, a bit mesmerized by the curious but lustful look in Dylan’s eye.

“No,” he repeats in agreement, nodding once. “No, I’m not. You know what kind of friend I am?”

Your head shakes.

“I’m the kind of friend…that takes you into that private room…and fucks you the way you deserve,” he whispers, eyeing you closely as he watches the realization settle.

The entire booth goes quiet. Still.

You have no idea where this came from. No idea how many drinks Dylan must have had to inspire him to even suggest such an idea.

And you have no idea why Harry isn’t stopping him. Telling him off. Shutting the idea down.

It’s as if you all understand the same thing. As if you’ve all landed on the same conclusion, the same page.

You almost feel dizzy from how fast this all happened. How fast Dylan went from being your longtime bestie to the man staring a hole right through you and promising you the kind of orgasm you’ve always deserved.

He leans back and outstretches his hand. “Up,” he commands of you, and you stand so quickly to your feet that you’re convinced it was your cunt making the call instead of your brain.

But it doesn’t matter because you’ve never felt so…sure. So safe. Stuck between these two men that you would happily entrust your pleasure with.

Harry stares at you both from his seat, and you wonder if now is the time for him to object.

But when he simply cocks his head and nods at you to step out of the booth…you feel your eyes grow wide.

You look back at Dylan as you take his hand, fingers slipping around his palm as he leads you out from the corner of the room. “What…what are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I told you,” he says coolly, stealing another glance at the man scooting his way after you. “I’m being a really good fucking friend.”

Your knees feel weak, but you toss him an unamused look. “Dyl…come on. You don’t…you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying—”

“Actually, I haven’t had a drink all night,” he corrects. “I know…exactly what I’m saying. What I’m asking. And so do you. Both…of you.”

You tug on his hand until you’re sure you have his full attention.

Not that you haven’t had it since the moment he saw you walk in.

“Dylan,” you repeat softly. Urgently. “What are you doing?”

He studies you for a moment, almost as if contemplating his answer.

Then, he uses his other hand to brush a fallen hair behind your ear, his finger following the curve of your neck as he smiles.

“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago,” he tells you, and you can hear the honesty in his voice. “And I guess I’m seeing if you want it, too.”

“You hate him.”

“I tolerate him,” Dylan corrects smugly. “I’ve just…begun to feel a little bad for you. That’s all.”

Your lashes flutter. “Bad?”

“Yeah.” His grin grows a bit more cocky. “I’m sure he’s perfectly…adequate. When you need him to be. But I think he could be better. I think you deserve…better.”

“And you’re better, huh?”

“I can be. For you.”

“Dylan.”

“Honey.”

You want to frown at the nickname, but the way he says it makes your breath hitch. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am,” he says confidently. “As long as you are.”

And are you?

You nod, a rush of adrenaline shooting up the back of your spine as he beams at you and begins to lead you toward the hallway at the back of the club.

And Harry is right behind, his watchful gaze never once deviating from Dylan. You’re sure he’s contemplating what Dylan’s true intentions are. Perhaps contemplating if this is even a good idea.

But something about The Prism makes every idea seem like a good idea.

You feel so pitiful with the way you follow after the handsome man in front of you, tripping over your own feet as he leads you all to the collection of doors.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. How could you not have? He’s charming, and he’s funny, and he’s been one of your closest friends for years.

And he’s a much more permanent figure in your life than Harry is.

But you feel safe with him. Safe with both of them, no matter how strange this entire arrangement has become.

When you come to a stop, you find that you’re in front of door number five, and just before you can ask what happens next…Dylan slips a gold-plated key from his pocket.

And once you’ve entered the room…everything changes.

You don’t know what to look at first. The large space is stunning, with a king-sized bed front and center. Silk sheets, a velvet couch, a mirror on the ceiling.

Not to mention the array of toys displayed in the corner or the bench with black handcuffs on it.

You feel like you’ve walked straight into a porno.

And while this is a sure upgrade from your previous visits, you don’t feel…unsettled. Or uneasy, or even unsure.

You feel…confident in your decision. In the idea that you really are doing this…with them.

And when you turn to catch a glimpse of Harry’s face…you find that he’s equally as enthralled by the prospect of tonight. Of the three of you.

This will most likely be a one-time thing, and perhaps this understanding is what’s inspiring you to throw caution to the wind.

After all, pleasure is pleasure.

And shared pleasure…well, that’s just a fucking dream.

Dylan steps aside to allow you both a look around. He seems amused by your awe, and even more amused by the way your fingers have begun to twitch by your side.

He can tell you’re desperate. You’re sure they both can. How could you not be? You have no idea who will hold the power tonight. Or what it would even look like to see them work together.

If that’s even possible.

“Problem?” you hear Dylan call, forcing your attention back until you see the way Harry shrugs.

“Just…wondering what exactly you think is gonna happen tonight,” Harry replies, brow raised as he watches Dylan’s arms cross over his chest. “What your plan is.”

“My plan, huh?” Dylan repeats, smiling softly. “My plan. Well, Harold…my plan is to show you…how to do it right.”

Harry begins to frown as your heart hammers against your chest.

“And my plan…” Dylan continues, taking a step closer, “…is to make you watch.”

Harry’s teeth grit as he regards the arrogant man a few feet away. “Is that fucking right?”

“That’s fucking right.”

Now, Dylan looks to you.

“Sit him down,” he instructs, nodding toward the bench in the corner of the room.

You and Harry both turn to look as well, and once Harry realizes what the plan is, he scoffs.

“Oh, I don’t fucking think so,” he retorts, straightening up. “No. You’re not fucking my girlfriend right in front of me.”

“She’s not your girlfriend,” Dylan reminds him calmly. “Besides, I don’t think it would hurt you to learn how to actually make her cum.”

“Oh, and you think you know how?” Harry snorts, moving closer as well. “What, all those years of pining for her really did the trick, huh?”

“Wasn’t about pining. I just knew she could do better.”

“Better. And you’d be better?”

“I’d certainly be a start.”

“Funny.”

“Not really. She deserves to know how it feels to have my cum inside of her.”

Your cheeks flush.

“And you expect me to watch?”

“I expect you…to sit the fuck down,” Dylan answers, with a bit more edge than before. “Exactly like I asked.”

But Harry doesn’t move. No, he glares at Dylan as you apprehensively approach from behind, hoping to ease the tension before it can rise any further.

And when Harry continues to remain put, Dylan decides to take matters into his own hands.

He places his palms on Harry’s chest…and shoves. Shoves him back, shoves him hard. Shoves until Harry has no choice but to stumble back.

Harry’s jaw snaps shut. “The hell are you—”

“Sit down,” Dylan repeats, just as sternly as before.

“Fuck you,” Harry seethes, stepping back up to his previous spot as Dylan’s head cocks.

“I’m sure you’d like to. But right now…I asked you to sit down.”

“God, you’re such a fucking—”

But before Harry can finish his spiteful retort, Dylan’s fingers are weaving through the roots of Harry’s curls to force his head back.

The room falls silent, save for the quick breaths you and Harry are both taking.

But Dylan is calm. Far too calm as he leans in and meets Harry’s eye. “Sit…the fuck…down,” he whispers. “And maybe…I’ll be good to you, too.”

For a moment, the two men are at an impasse.

They can’t stand each other and would happily spend all evening arguing and showing off if they had to.

But they understand that tonight is not about them.

It’s about you.

It always is.

So, Harry swallows his pride and relaxes into Dylan’s hold as a sign of good faith. Allowing the older gentleman to decide what happens next.

But Harry won’t like it…but he’ll at least get to be a part of it.

Dylan turns to you now, smiling his appreciation at your willingness before nodding once.

You take this as your cue to approach, gentle touch slipping around Harry’s hand as you gingerly guide him toward the bench.

And Harry lets himself be moved, even though you can feel the way his muscles have gone stiff beneath your hold.

Something that certainly isn’t helped by the way Dylan calls, “Attaboy.”

It's condescending, and arrogant, and everything Harry hates. Especially from Dylan. Even still, he remains quiet, instead moving his focus to you. The sweet girl just trying to do as she’s told.

And you still feel rather mesmerized by whatever spell Dylan has you under, following each order like a lost little puppy.

A submissive little pet.

Not that you’re opposed to playing this role. Especially with these two men. And you can tell Harry is rather amused by your eagerness, if not a little annoyed by it.

And you know how hard this must be for him. To give up control.

To give it to Dylan.

It’ll be out of his hands, quite literally. And Harry adores having power over you. Over everyone.

But tonight…tonight he’s far too taken with Dylan’s premise. And the promise of pleasure between the three of you.

Of the promise…of you.

And perhaps a part of him is hoping that this little experiment between you and your longtime friend will only prove that Harry is the superior choice.

And that thought alone has his cock twitching.

Once he’s sat on the bench, he shoots a peeved look Dylan’s way. Almost as if to reiterate the point that he’s absolutely not enjoying himself.

Even if he sort of is.

Dylan merely smiles, once again nodding his approval as he looks to you. “Hands,” he instructs simply.

He doesn’t need to elaborate any further for you to know what he’d like. So you reach for Harry’s large wrists, and lift them toward the restraints hanging off the back of the seat.

Harry continues to stew from his spot, but he doesn’t stop you. He waits for you to finish, taking note of the way your fingers gently shake with anticipation.

You slip his hand through and tighten the lock into place. Then, you move to the other side, and repeat.

Once you’re finished, he tugs on them, just to test them out, and is rather surprised to find how little room for movement he actually has.

An idea that’s exciting, invigorating, and arousing. But he keeps his expression stoic as he lifts his head and looks over to the man a few feet away.

Dylan is pleased with you, lips rolling into his mouth as he hums his approval. “Good girl,” he calls once you’ve stepped back to join him.

And your face flushes as your thighs begin to squeeze together. They both notice, but don’t comment on it as Dylan begins walking up behind you.

With his long, beautiful fingers, he sweeps your hair off your back and over your shoulder, allowing enough room for him to ghost his lips along your neck.

Then, he whispers, “Take off your panties.”

Harry leans back against the seat, his legs spreading rather angrily as he watches Dylan toss a smirk toward him.

But you do as you’re asked, slipping your hand beneath the hem of your dress until you can feel your way toward the lace.

And Harry’s eyes grow bigger as he watches you do this right in front of him. He doesn’t miss a thing. Doesn’t miss the way you’re forced to take a deep breath to compose yourself. Doesn’t miss the way you undoubtedly felt yourself dripping. Doesn’t miss the way you accidentally-on-purpose grazed your little clit.

All three of you know you’ll be unraveling before the evening even has a chance to get started.

Once the underwear is off and in your hands, you turn to Dylan expectantly.

He smiles and glances over your face. “Put them in his mouth.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead as Harry rolls his eyes, grunting to himself before looking away.

But Dylan isn’t deterred. “Go on,” he murmurs, nodding his chin toward the perturbed British man on the bench. “Let him taste you. ’Cause this is all he’s gonna fucking get.”

With that, he places his hand on your lower back, and encourages you forward.

There’s a catch in your throat as you step up to Harry, filled with intrigue and promise.

He watches you get closer, going deathly still as you reach out to grab onto the underside of his jaw, and lift his head.

His gaze is venomous as you look him over. Perhaps he’s trying to communicate with you. Or perhaps he’s simply reminding you that he doesn’t enjoy this little show.

Either way, you smile softly to comfort him, thumb stroking over his cheek soothingly. “Come on, Har. Be a good boy and open up.”

He’d probably fight you on this any other day.

But today…he’s too desperate.

His lips slowly pull apart, mouth widening just enough to allow you to slip the soaked fabric inside before his jaw clamps shut.

You watch the way his lashes flutter at the taste of you immersing his tongue. A taste he’s so used to, so familiar with, so enchanted by…that he groans.

However, it comes out as more of an annoyed grunt, but either way, Dylan is pleased as Harry slumps down into his seat.

And once you’ve stepped back, you collide into Dylan’s chest, your heart racing as he snakes one arm around the front of your stomach to keep you stuck to him.

“Think that’ll keep him quiet?” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your ear as you become puddy in his hands.

And you can feel his hard cock pressed against your ass. Can feel the way he grinds against you, the way he breathes you in as if he needs you to survive.

And when you shiver within his hold, he smiles.

“How’s it taste, Harold?” he asks the tense man in the corner.

Harry's only response is a grunt.

“Yeah? That good, huh?” Dylan grins, fingers now traveling down the side of your silhouette as he pulls on the fabric of your dress. The hem lifts higher and higher up your thighs until a cool breeze finds its way beneath, forcing you to lean back into him. “Guess I should have a taste for myself.”

Harry’s focus falls toward your legs, watching with intrigue as the fabric is bunched into Dylan’s fists just above your belly button.

And you’re soaked. You imagine they knew you would be, but once they finally see it for themselves? See the way the light catches the drip down your thighs? See how swollen and needy you’ve become?

Harry makes another animalistic noise deep from the center of his chest, lids growing heavy with lust as your throbbing cunt sits before him. Right in his fucking face.

And Dylan’s only response is smug condescension, glancing down at the masterpiece before him while trailing his fingers toward the apex of your thighs.

And you watch him. Watch every inch of skin pass beneath his hand as he smooths his palm down your stomach.

Your breaths are quick and desperate, lungs practically aching as he finally reaches his destination.

Without permission, a small whimper rips from between your parted lips as you jerk against his chest. However, his arm keeps you still, keeps you obedient. Forced to feel each dip and pinch his fingers provide.

He slides through slowly, feeling you out, indulging in you. Spreading, and pressing before finally dipping inside.

A loud gasp rings through the room as you squirm a bit harder at the subtle pressure he applies. But before you can truly enjoy it…he pulls out, leaving you to wilt in his embrace.

And you want to be angry, but he never promised you anything more than a taste.

Which is exactly what he takes, fingers moving up to his mouth as he watches Harry from over your shoulder. Just to make sure he has his full attention.

Dylan’s tongue drags along the drops falling down his knuckles before he places those nimble fingers on his tongue.

And hearing him suck the ever-living shit out of them has your eyes squeezing shut. It’s too much—too good. You can hardly fucking stand it, and you clench pitifully around nothing.

And Harry sees this. Sees everything, hears everything. And he fucking loves it. Despite himself, he loves seeing the way your body reacts to something as simple as a sound. The way you fall apart, even by Dylan’s hand. The way you submit.

“You were right,” Dylan hums as his arm drops back down to your body. “She’s fucking delicious.”

Harry exhales heavily through his nose, his mouth watering, teeth clamping down on the panties still soaking his tongue.

You’re almost proud of him for how…complicit he’s being.

How…obedient.

When Dylan releases your dress, you almost want to whine. Tortured by the idea that he’s already through with you. That he’s going to leave you like this.

But you should know better. Should know the look in his eye by now. Should know what it means as he runs a hand through his dark hair and murmurs, “C’mere, baby.”

You turn to fully face him, wonderstruck by his beauty under these lights. In this moment. This one, divine experience you feel lucky enough to have.

He takes hold of your chin, tilting your face up until he can get a good look at you. His thumb brushing down your bottom lip, teasing you with the idea to take it into your mouth.

He dips down, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s going to kiss you. And your heart just about leaps into your throat at the idea of finally getting to taste him this way.

Then…he pulls back.

“Take off your dress,” he instructs softly, head tilting to the left as if going back in to kiss you again.

But he can’t kiss you and give you the room you need to take off your dress, so you pout as you reach back to undo the zipper.

The sparkly fabric moves down your arms before falling to the floor, and you’re quick to step out of it so you can return to him.

But both boys need a moment to admire you. Need a moment to appreciate you as their eyes follow each curve and dip along your squirming frame. Your naked chest, your aching cunt, and the flush in your face.

Once Dylan’s eyes reach yours, he nods. “Now take off my shirt.”

You nearly lunge for the buttons trailing down the second half of his chest, slipping them free quickly before guiding the soft, black material of his shirt off his body.

And now it's your turn to admire him, taking note of his muscles, and tan skin. The few hairs that litter his chest and disappear into his pants.

Without realizing it, you’ve begun to tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, but Dylan realizes. And he swallows a laugh.

“Pants,” he instructs next, stepping out of his shoes as your greedy fingers reach for his zipper.

The feel of his briefs has your heart thumping in your chest, the idea of what lies beneath practically luring you in.

But you haven't been instructed to go there yet, so with a huff, you pull his jeans down to the floor and discard of them.

Your focus moves from his hips to his face, expression practically begging with him to let you remove the last item of clothing.

And Dylan looks at you like you’re the most adorable thing in the world, although he still refuses to give you permission.

Instead, he looks toward Harry. Still brooding behind you as you glance over as well.

"I want you to take off his pants for me," he tells you, his voice so low, it nearly vibrates throughout your entire body. "Take them off…so you can watch him leak for you."

Harry's chest just about caves in on itself as he shoots an aggravated look Dylan’s way.

But you hardly notice as you return to him, fingers outstretching for his belt to pull it through each loop.

And Harry watches you, looking down as his pulse races at the beautiful sight of you timidly kneeling at his feet.

And you’re watching your hands with your big eyes, cunt still throbbing as you attempt to squeeze your thighs together.

Both of you are dangling on the precipice of sanity as Harry’s nails begin to dig just a bit harder into his palms. A futile attempt at restraining himself from the thought of taking a fistful of your hair.

You’re so close to him. So fucking close to what you both know is his painfully hard and red cock. Proof of what you’re doing to him. What you’re both doing to him.

After a moment or two of struggle, you manage to shimmy his pants down to his ankles before flicking them off and tossing them aside.

His black dress shirt and boxers are all that’s left, and you have to take a moment to admire him, too.

Because just the thought of riding that glorious tiger tattoo on his thigh makes your head spin. The way it would look, glistening in your arousal, dripping down his leg before you’re forced to clean it up.

You let out a strangled breath as Dylan steps closer and clicks his tongue to call your attention back to him.

“Take ’em off,” he repeats, eyeing the only left between you and Harry’s cock.

Harry tenses once more, steeling himself against the bench as you face him. For the first time all night, he's practically pleading with you. Desperate for your touch.

And when you dip your hand inside, you feel exactly how sticky he is. How pathetically aroused.

You both gasp when the contact is made, his lashes once more fluttering quickly as he relaxes into your touch.

And he’d happily stay there in your hand all damn day if it wasn’t for the proud man behind you. Watching with that cocky expression that hasn’t been displaced all night.

You waste no more time, fingers curling around the band of his underwear before you’re pulling them down, revealing what lies beneath to your hungry gaze.

You try not to stare but you can’t exactly help it. It’s right in your face.

Dylan is a little less subtle. He gives Harry a once-over, feeling rather satisfied with the way his body tells him what Harry can’t. Proving just how much of a needy bitch this man really is.

Poor Harry is fucking humiliated under their stares. Leaning back against the bench as he pulls on the restraints, the veins in his arms straining against his skin.

But deep down…you know he loves it.

"What did I tell you?" Dylan muses, bending down so he’s closer to where you still sit on your knees. "Look at the way he needs you. The way he fucking leaks for you. Pathetic, isn't it?"

You nod mutely, attention still transfixed like a kid in a candy store.

Dylan hums. “Bet you wanna have a taste. Don’t you, honey? Go on then. Fucking taste him.”

You look up, finding Harry’s eyes as you search for his approval.

He offers a gesture that you assume is meant to be his consent before you straighten up and place your hands on his thighs.

Once you’re close enough, you waste no more time, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock as his head drops back and he groans.

Your nails bury deep within his skin as you situate yourself between his legs. Allowing yourself to get comfortable while you wrap your mouth around his tip. Tongue swirling in percisce patterns as you whimper for added effect.

Harry just about loses it. You can see the way his chest has begun to heave from strained breaths and it sends your ego through the roof.

You love having this type of power over him. Knowing that his pleasure…is yours.

And Dylan allows this to go on for quite some time before he finally decides he’s had enough. You imagine he doesn’t want Harry coming down your throat so soon, and aren’t all that surprised when he reaches down to grab onto you.

His fingers tangle in your roots until you let Harry go before he’s yanking you onto your feet.

You don’t even have time to speak before he’s whirling you around and kissing you.

Instantly, his lips melt into yours, your tongue coated with Harry’s pre-cum, your jaw rigid beneath his palm.

And he takes. Takes everything you have to offer him. No hesitation, no remorse, no consequences.

He takes until you have no choice but to moan with satisfaction at the feel of the man holding onto you so tight. At the pain tingling across your scalp. At the way he grunts into your mouth like he’s never been so turned on.

His other hand finds your throat, pressing just hard enough to squeeze another whimper from you. Your fingers graze down his stomach as you attempt to steady yourself, but your knees feel weak. Your body instantly aroused by something as simple as a kiss.

Then, with the hold on your hair, Dylan slings you toward the bed just behind you like you were nothing but a fucking ragdoll. You crash onto the soft mattress, tits bouncing from the force as you gasp excitedly.

He’s quick to follow, hands and knees leading him closer as he hovers above you, caging you to the silk sheets.

He’s like a wild animal chasing after an innocent baby deer. As if you’re just waiting for him to eat you alive.

Which…you are.

But you’re also impatient, legs already attempting to spread as if to plead with him, needily reaching for his face in a silent request for another kiss.

And you imagine he might have given it to you until a certain darkness passes over his expression and he finds your throat once more.

With a warning squeeze, he murmurs, “No, baby. You do what I say. Understood?”

The rasp in his voice prompts a rather fast response as you nod and whisper, “Yes.”

Truth be told, you’d hoped the catch in your voice would perhaps change his mind but Dylan seems to know the trick.

He tsks again as he studies you. “My greedy little whore. Just aching for anything I’ll give her, hm? No. No, you’re gonna stay right here. Right fucking here until I come back.”

Confused, your eyebrows weave together as he pushes himself upright and steps off the bed.

You push yourself onto your elbows as you watch him walk away from you, expression growing sad the further he gets.

“Where—” you begin only to quickly realize that he’s stopping in front of the selection of toys.

Oh.

He takes his time looking over the display while Harry huffs from his spot. You imagine he’s just as apprehensive of Dylan’s plans as you are, and if he could talk…it probably wouldn’t be very nice.

As the minutes continue to pass, you grow anxious. Impatient. So pitifully desperate that you have to flop back down onto the bed and put your eyes on the mirror above you.

You watch your reflection with a pout, taking note of your breasts as they rise and fall with each breath. The way your hair is spread out across the bed. The way your thighs are squeezing together in an attempt to find some relief.

It would be so easy to just…slip your hand down and find it. Find a fraction of pleasure as you wait for Dylan to quit toying with you.

But before you get the chance to do such a devious thing, you feel a large presence looming to your left, and roll your head over to look.

Dylan has returned, a new object in his hand, and a stern expression on his face. He’s warning you to behave, and you have no choice but to oblige as you glance down.

He weighs the toy he’d retrieved in his hands, making sure to get a good feel as he glances between the two of you. Letting you anticipate him. Anticipate his plans.

And then…he turns it on.

The sound of the vibrations almost make you groan as you squirm a bit harder on the bed. Your longing gaze glued to the wand as you silently command Dylan to hurry up and put it to use already.

But he doesn’t rush to your side the way you had hoped. No, instead…he turns to Harry.

Now even more unsure, Harry attempts to straighten up as he regards the brunette boy walking toward him.

When Dylan crouches down, Harry shoots him a rather outraged look of warning.

He doesn’t want to be played with. He wants to do the playing.

“Something wrong?” Dylan asks quietly, finger hovering over the power button as he gently dances the vibrator closer.

Harry simply exhales another sharp breath through his nose, shooting daggers Dylan's way, to which Dylan merely grins.

Then…the wand is moved toward Harry’s cock, innocently grazing the head as Harry’s own depraved moan slips free.

And it’s angry, and it’s loud, and virile. The whole room can tell just how much he enjoyed the fleeting touch, and without a second hesitation, Dylan does it again.

“Don’t fucking cum,” he warns, eyeing the peeved man before him. “Do you hear me, Harold? Do not cum until I say so.”

Harry tries to scoff, but with the way his dick is twitching, he might not be able to hold off.

Which is exactly what Dylan wants. Wants him to be so close to release, that he'll even beg him for it. Wants to bring him to the edge and leave him there while he fucks you right in front of him.

You watch from the bed, whining to yourself as your thighs squeeze together, panting lightly.

And when Harry's eyes meet yours briefly, he has to take another deep breath, commanding himself to stay strong.

He's close. Too close, but now…Dylan finds it difficult to stop. There's something so…compelling about watching Harry like this. The snarky attitude now nowhere to be found as he becomes puddy in Dylan's large hands.

After all, Dylan did promise to be good to him, too.

Maybe he lets Harry cum all over his stomach.

And maybe he makes you clean it up.

However, this thought is quickly disregarded as he chooses to stick with his original plan. He pulls the vibrating toy away only moments before Harry can find his release, and the entire room lets out a collective sigh.

Satisfied, Dylan straightens back up, and turns to you.

He finds you still lying on the bed, dripping pathetically onto the sheets below as you look up at him with a whimper.

Your lips roll into your mouth the moment he steps closer, his eyes trailing down to your cunt before he’s returning to his previous position.

And then, he brings the vibrator into play.

"Is this what you want?" he asks, despite the fact that he already knows the answer.

But you nod frantically anyhow, thighs spreading once more to invite him closer. Invite him in, but he isn't fooled.

He takes his time, reaching out to grab onto your ankle and slide you down to him. The toy comes alive in his hand, now a bit more powerful than before, ready for use. And you eye it like it's a cool drink of water on a hot day.

Still, Dylan is patient. Slow. He takes the large head of the toy and brings it up to your sternum, dragging it down your chest slowly as you anxiously look back up at the ceiling.

Your eyes quickly find his body in the reflection above, and you can’t help but watch the way his back muscles move and strain as he continues his sadistic torture.

Everything about his body is like a work of art. He’s like a drug. Addicting from top to bottom, and you wonder how you’ve never noticed before.

He continues guiding the vibrations along your frame, over your hardened nipple, and down your stomach as you whine again. Unable to resist writhing against the sheets and away from the sweet feeling.

And when you begin to pant his name, you see him smile.

He fucking loves the sound of his name in your mouth. Always has. For eight fucking years. Loves to hear the quiet whisper of your voice as you breathe it out like you’re breathing just for him.

He can’t help but wonder if you’ve ever been teased like this. Truly appreciated like this. Given the time and space to be worshiped the way he knows you deserve.

And he decides right then and there that he will. From now until the rest of time, he will worship you. Your orgasms will be by his hand, his tongue, his cock. You’ll be ruined for anyone else. He'll fucking see to that.

"Watch," he commands once he reaches your hips, the vibrator now dangerously close to your aching cunt as your eyes move to his. "You fucking watch me make you cum."

You don’t argue. You’ll happily watch him ruin you forever, happily gaze upon his structured face as he pleases you out of your goddamn mind.

And right as you’re deciding that maybe this isn't so bad after all…he presses the vibrations up against your clit, and your nails immediately bury into the sheets as you pull and arch off the bed.

Dylan exhales slowly, his focus trained on the magic in front of him. You’re so fucking wet, absolutely soaking the toy. Soaking the bed beneath you. And it sounds like heaven. Like fucking music the way you say his name and beg for release.

However, he can't help glancing over his shoulder to see how much dear Harold is enjoying the show.

But Harry's got his eyes closed as he steadies his breathing, squirming around the bench as he rests his head against the wall behind him.

He considers forcing Harry to watch him, too, but he knows he will. Knows he won't be able to resist watching you cum around the toy as you lose your last drop of self-control.

He'll watch…because he's just as fucking desperate as you are.

So, Dylan returns his attention to you, adding even more pressure as you continue to cry out, writhing around so violently that he’s almost worried you’ll hurt yourself.

And it’s no surprise you’re close already. But while he'd love to edge you all night long, he knows he can't possibly edge himself any longer. He needs to feel you. Needs to feel you stretching around his cock. Needs to feel the way you soak him, hear his skin against yours, needs to fucking fill you with his cum and leave you swollen.

So…he will. He'll fucking abuse your tight little hole until it's practically molded to him and his cock. Until everyone (especially Harold) knows who your pleasure really belongs to.

It's an odd concept, truthfully. The idea that you’d want him to claim you the way he is now. Want him to protect you the way he is now.

But tonight…tonight you’re not just you and Dylan. Tonight you’re not just friends.

Tonight…you’re his good fucking girl.

His good girl who is eagerly waiting to taste him. Who would do anything he fucking asked. You’re a fucking dream for him. But you’re real, and Dylan can’t fucking believe he lived right next door to such a perfect girl all these years.

But now that he knows…he’s never letting you go again.

"C’mon, baby," he mumbles, leaning down to press his lips to your hip bone as you whimper. "I know you can do it. Give it to me, honey. Please. That’s it.”

He's actually begging you to cum and the raspy growl to his voice is what does it.

It hits you like a fucking truck, your head turning to the side as you nearly scream. Toes curling and fingers twisting around the sheets.

It has to last for at least a full minute, the overwhelming exhaustion that follows leaving you to gasp for air like never before.

But Dylan isn't allowing you even a moment of rest, instead tossing the vibrator to the side and tugging on your wrist until you’re forced to sit up.

You groan softly in protest at the way you’re not afforded the chance to revel in your orgasms. But before you can get too annoyed, Dylan is moving around to kneel behind you, pressing your back against his chest.

And it happens so suddenly. You hardly have time to understand as his hand reaches around to take hold of your throat and squeeze. The pressure just enough to make you gasp as he then forces your eyes on Harry.

"Look at him," Dylan whispers to you, almost viciously. "Isn't it so sad? Isn't it so fucking pathetic the way your poor little Harold leaks for you?"

You have to swallow another moan as your focus trails down Harry’s rigid body and toward the angry red tip practically calling out to you.

To both of you.

It truly is a sight to behold, and Harry grinds his teeth against the panties as you stare at him.

"Can't stand the idea of watching my cock ruin what he thinks is his," Dylan continues to taunt, making sure he has Harry’s full attention. "Can't fucking stand knowing that you cum for me…and me alone."

Your only response is to lean back further into him as if you can't possibly stay upright, and his grip gets tighter.

"You want that, too, hm?" he hums, letting himself inhale your intoxicating scent. It's a mixture of perfume, and sex, and Harry. He's all over you and it drives Dylan mad in the best and worst way possible.

He brushes his lips along your cheek for just a moment, wanting to give in and kiss you the way he's been thinking about all night…but he resists.

It's much more fun to leave your begging for more.

However this time, you’re the one to refuse. Refuse to waste another moment missing him. Refuse to go another second without the taste of his lips on yours.

So, you spin around. You spin around, and you move onto your hands and knees, and you force Dylan’s head to spin as he attempts to comprehend the new position.

You take hold of his hips and surge forward, dragging your tongue along his toned stomach, eager to hear the way his breath begins to stagger.

It’s like music, and you do it a time or two more, just to tease him.

You know he’s unsure of your plan, but he makes no move to stop you. After all, he couldn’t possibly fucking dream of stopping you now. Not when this is all he’s ever wanted anyway.

Harry watches with labored breaths, noticing the way Dylan's eyes widen and flutter as you move up his body. It's annoying, and aggravating, and so goddamn hot.

And Dylan could stare at your pretty pink tongue assaulting his skin for the rest of his life if he had the chance. But tonight, that’s not his plan.

You finally reach his neck, moving your sultry kisses to that spot just beneath his ear in hopes that he'll buckle beneath your touch. That he’ll finally give in.

But he sees it coming from a mile away. So, before you have the chance to use that pretty mouth against him, he suddenly grasps onto the back of her neck and tugs your head back, making you gasp.

Your jaw just about drops as you look up at him, now dripping pathetically down your thighs from the force, and from the way he's glaring at you.

"What did I fucking say?" he hisses, that dominant edge enough to leave you weak.

However, you can only respond with a shaky breath. And it the anxious noise would almost worry Dylan…if he didn't already what a fucking whore you were.

"Please," you finally find the strength to whisper as Dylan’s head tilts.

"Please…what, hm?" he replies, dipping down to ghost your lips together, exactly the way you wanted. "Does it hurt, baby?"

And even as he says it, you can feel the strange rush between your thighs. The way you feel so empty. The way your body is practically begging Dyaln to fill you. Fill you, fuck you, cum inside of you. Drip down your thighs, your throat, your fucking tits.

You whimper from the mere thought of it, and the dejected sound makes Dylan’s ego swell. You just need him to touch you. Need it. Your own fingers won’t do. They’re so small. So useless compared to him. Compared to anything he’ll give you. Even a look.

"Hurts," you repeat pathetically. "Please, Dyl."

His eyes dance across your expression as he thinks. "What do you need, lovie? Tell me."

But he already knows what you need. Who you need. But you know he wants to hear you say it.

And not for his benefit.

But Harry's.

So, you give him exactly what he’s searching for. "Need your cock, Dylan, please. Need you to ruin me, need it so fucking bad."

"Yeah? What else?" he pushes, nearly groaning. God, he loves hearing you beg. Loves watching the way your eyes go dark with lust. The way that sarcastic attitude of yours vanishes into thin air the moment he touches you.

"Need to taste you," you just about gasp, the idea alone making you shiver. "Need to feel your hands around my neck. Wanna see you on my skin for weeks."

"Yeah? Why?”

You know why. He knows why. Even Harry knows why, and he's this close to chipping a tooth at Dylan's little performance.

But you say it anyway.

"Because I'm yours."

There it is. Exactly what Dylan wanted. Your pussy, your mouth, you—all of it is his.

Not Harry's.

With this thought, he straightens up onto his knees so he can well and truly tower over you before tugging once more on your hair for good measure.

“Show him.”

With that, he lets go so you can comply, and like the good fucking girl you are, your immediately hands fall to his briefs.

Harry's focus follows, already glaring as he watches Dylan smile at you.

And you’re so fucking excited. Can barely keep your fingers from trembling as you pull the elastic band down his thighs.

He's hard, and red, and ready. He's wanted this since before he saw you tonight in the club. Since he first heard you fuck yourself in the shower just this morning and now, he's gonna give you exactly what you’d been imagining while you did it.

Forcing Harry to watch is just a happy coincidence.

"Turn around," Dylan instructs, nodding his chin toward the other side of the bed.

Your heart races when you realize what he wants, and you can’t help but swallow a small moan as you turn around and steady yourself on your hands and knees.

He quickly grabs onto your hips and gives you exactly half a second to prepare before he’s brushing his tip through your wet folds.

You reel at the faint contact, already unraveling from such a small touch.

And truth be told, he’d tease you all goddamn night if he could, but he’s beginning to lose his control. So, he once again reaches forward to grasp a fistful of your hair and yank your head up until you’re facing Harry.

Then, with a growl, he says, "You watch him. You fucking watch him while you clench around my cock. You watch him while I fuck you. Do you understand?"

You try to nod, but his grip is too tight. "Yes," you pant instead, eyes already locking on Harry's. “Yes, I promise.”

Harry lets out a slow breath.

Satisfied, Dylan finally allows himself to give in to everything he's been wanting. With one hand on your head, and the other on your hip, he surges forward, and buries his cock inside your aching cunt.

And the moment he feels you…everything changes. He likes to think he’d been doing so good, but you’re so fucking…tight. And warm. And wet. And fucking squeezing the shit out of him in a way that makes his head pound.

“Fuck…Dylan,” you whisper, so overcome by the pressure in your stomach that you’re not even aware you said it until he curses.

“M’so fucking good to you,” he breathes, unweaving his fingers from your hair so he can scratch down your spine. “Take such good care of you, don’t I?”

“Yes.” You can’t stand it. Can’t breathe, can’t see straight.

"I let him watch you just the way you like," he continues, and your eyes roll back. "Because you do, don’t you? Like to be watched like the pretty little whore you are. Makes you feel so fucking good, doesn't it?"

“Fuck,” is about all you can muster when he slams his hips into your ass.

"I let him watch," he murmurs, still thrusting into you so hard, and so deep that you’re convinced he might actually ruin you. "I let him watch me use what's mine. Let him watch you soak me. Let him see exactly what it looks like to own you. That's what you want, isn't it, princess?"

Your answer comes in the form of another gut-wrenching moan, the sound echoing through the room right as he grazes her g-spot, sending you down onto your forearms.

Harry's breathing is getting heavier, the underwear in his mouth now truly soaked from his drool while his cock is still aggressively aggravated beyond belief. It's fucking torture sitting so close yet so far away. Forced to watch you have all the fun.

But there's also something rather…addicting about watching Dylan clench his jaw when he thrusts, or feels you clench, or hears you moan his name.

And both you and Harry become quite mesmerized by the way Dylan's muscles flex whenever he pulls at your hip or pushes your head down onto the mattress, forcing your cheek taut against the silk. The way his strong thighs hold him up as he thrusts into you. The way beads of sweat are beginning to form around his hairline, forcing locks of messy brown hair to fall across his forehead.

And the noises he's making...low grunts of pleasure followed by rather animalistic moans.

You decide then that he’s got a great sex voice.

Dylan, however, doesn’t notice any of the staring. Instead, much more concerned with the way he's already so close to filling you up and spilling right out. And even more focused on the way he’s beginning to wish this night would never end.

If he had it his way, you’d fuck all night. Over and over and over, until you were raw and weepy. Until the tears were staining your cheeks as you scratched patterns down his back. Until Harry, and the whole fucking club knew exactly who your pussy belongs to.

But he fears this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Once you leave this room...the fun comes to an end. He doubts you’ll ever speak of it again, so he figures he needs to make every second count.

"Look at him," Dylan finally orders, calling your attention back to Harry's face. "Look at the way he wants to taste you on my cock. How he wants anything I'll let him have. But you're mine, aren't you? Fucking tell him. Tell him who you were really made for."

You can’t seem to speak, your tongue going numb as you subconsciously beg him to go harder.

Sensing that you need the encouragement, he leans down once more, brushing your hair off your back before pressing a rather delicate kiss to your shoulder. "Aren't I good to you? Sharing you the way I do? Letting him watch?"

You nod vehemently as you whimper, and he can’t help but smirk as he glances over to the man on the bench, who merely huffs angrily.

Suddenly, Dylan is reaching around to grab onto your jaw for a second time as he forces your head to the side so you can see him. "But this tight little hole? It's fucking mine. Isn't it? Yeah? Say it then. Tell him who you really want."

"You," you breathe instantaneously. And maybe tomorrow morning you’ll feel differently, but right now you really are his and only his.

"Good girl," he hums, releasing her chin. "But I think Harold's a visual learner. Think you need to fucking show him. Show him that I'm good to you. Show him that he's never gonna be good enough for you."

Without warning, you hear yourself moaning his name, your body stretching out across the mattress so you can take him deeper. It's too fucking good, too much to comprehend, but you do know that you’re close.

And Dylan knows it, too. And he wishes he could see the look on your face, but the view of your ass is a rather good second option. So, he watches his cock slip in and out out of you. Coated in you as it stretches you from the inside out.

He moves to grope your skin softly as praise before giving it a firm smack, just so he can hear the sound and hear the way you groan with pleasure.

Even Harry growls to himself as he looks away...although he immediately looks back, refusing to miss a second of it. Much to Dylan's amusement.

"You're close, aren't you?" Dylan taunts, reaching for the vibrator as you nod. "Attagirl, c'mon now."

The vibrator is on your clit within seconds, and even without him having to ask, you grind down against the toy with fervor. Lip between your teeth as you revel in how perfectly he fills you while your cunt is sent into overdrive. It’s so much, so perfect, so overwhelming that you have no other choice but to ball the sheets in your fists to brace yourself.

Your hips move up and down the vibrating object as he pushes you even further into that blissful state. Almost…so close…just a little further…and then you’re fucking gone.

Dylan cna feel you fluttering around his cock, and the second he sees you dripping down your silky skin…he follows.

So many sounds fill the space. His needy groans and your whimpers of pleasure. You can’t help but reach back and tangle your fingers in his damp hair when he brings himself close enough to you. Needing to share this with him every way you know how.

And it’s a beautiful moment for the two of you. Connected completely as he fills you, spills inside of you, drips down your thighs exactly the way he’d wanted to.

And then…there’s Harry.

He’s begun to grow antsy, assuming that now that it’s over…it’s finally his turn.

But the two of you take your time on the bed as you regroup and work to catch your breath. Almost as if you’ve forgotten he’s even still in the room.

But, finally, Dylan’s content gaze trails over and finds him. And in that moment, Harry’s breath catches as he pulls his eyebrows together.

Dylan can’t help but smile as he takes in the writhing man before you. The way Harry’s hands are balled into fists and his black shirt unbuttoned just enough to showcase his sweaty chest and tattoos.

It’s almost…entertaining.

Dylan leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder once more before murmuring, "Stay right here, darling. Don't fucking move."

You nod weakly as you straighten back up onto your hands while Dylan begins to pull out.

He's still at least halfway hard, which isn't very surprising, and he's sure with a little time, he'll be ready to ruin you again.

He stands from the bed, lazily pushing his hair back as moves toward Harry, who watches with weary eyes.

"Don't worry," Dylan hums with a smug smile, but Harry's expression merely darkens.

Undeterred, Dylan’s hand comes to rest on the back of the bench near Harry's shoulder as he leans down, bringing their faces much closer than ever before.

In return, Harry’s head tilts up as if defying Dylan's very presence, and Dylan has to chuckle.

"I'm gonna let you go," he tells him. "And you know what you're gonna do?"

Harry answers by huffing out a strained breath.

Dylan smiles. "You're gonna fuck your fist while we watch."

Their eyes lock together for at least a minute if not more as Harry attempts to decipher Dylan’s true intentions.

But his intentions are honest, and he quickly moves for the restraints on Harry’s wrist so he can click them up, and set him free.

Harry’s wrist drops to his side, lashes flutter with sweet relief as Dylan moves to the other hand to repeat the process.

And once both Harry’s hands are free, he lifts his fingers to his mouth, takes the panties out, and throws them onto the floor.

"Fuck you," is the first thing he decides to say and Dylan snorts.

"I think you mean, thank you," he corrects as he straightens up. "You wanna cum, right? Then go ahead. Cum all over your pretty hand."

With that, Dylan turns around and heads back to the bed where you await, your expression curious as you watch the exchange.

In all honesty, you had expected any interaction between the two of them to be much more hostile, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the way they seem to be getting along.

Especially because they're two of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen and watching them fight for control has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

Dylan is back at your side within seconds as you roll over onto your back to look up at him.

He places his hand near her head, hovering above you once more as he whispers, "How do you feel, honey?"

"Good," you answer honestly, reaching up to run your fingers down his cheek. "You're so good to me."

"I know," he retorts with a teasing smirk, before dipping down to graze his lips over your bottom one. "Can't fucking stand not feeling you around me. Let me?"

At first, you’re confused by the request until you recognize the hopeful look on his face, and put the pieces together.

You nod and part your legs once again to allow him in, and he’s much gentler this time around. Guiding himself inside, easing in with great care before pulling your hips taut to his.

And you’re so fucking warm. Exactly the way he wanted. And it feels so…complete.

Not to mention, there’s something rather…enticing about knowing Harry’s still only a few feet away. Fisting his cock as he watches Dylan keep his cock warm inside you.

But you hardly notice Harry right now, much too distracted by the way Dylan is finally leaning down to kiss you the way he hadn’t been.

When your lips meet, it’s soft, and tender, and sweet. Even when he nips at the pink flesh so you’ll let him in, his tongue dancing with yours as he deepens the kiss in the same way he’s deep inside you.

And Harry watches. Watches as Dylan plays with your tit in his large hand, his fingers rolling your nipple around the pads of his thumb. Watches as you sigh and wrap you legs around his waist to pull him in even further. Watches Dylan look up at him as you kiss down his neck.

The smug son of a bitch knows exactly what he's doing and much to Harry's chagrin...it's working.

After spitting in his hand, Harry runs his palm up and down his hard cock, squeezing the tip as his head falls back into the wall from the building pleasure.

And in this moment, you all…exist. So much sex and understanding and…peace.

You devote your final moments to making Dylan feel good, running your hands and lips along his body as he smiles down at you.

Dylan keeps his eyes on the movement as he does so, sensing that eye contact is one of Harry's turn-ons. And who is Dylan to deny such a pleasure?

Once in a while, you’ll roll your head back to get a glance at Harry. And you’re so happy he kept that satin shirt of his on because the way his sleeves are rolled up to showcase the veins in his arms is sinful. Almost as sinful as the way his chest heaves with anticipation or the way his cock looks in front of it.

He’s so close to ruining the nice outfit with the way his movements are becoming faster and more sporadic. He’s trying to hold off, loving the way he’s being watched by you. But it’s been far too fucking long, and his body can’t take it any longer.

Dylan groans as you lick a stripe along his jaw, his own lashes fluttering as he buries his lip into your neck.

His hands smooth up your stomach and chest before they find their place back on your throat for a final time. He kisses you hard and deep as you whimper against his mouth, pulling him in by your legs once more.

"So good," Dylan whispers, although he's not sure who he's talking to. "So fucking good for me."

But both you and Harry bask in his praise, with you gazing up at him as you run her fingers through his hair while Harry sucks in a breathless whine, dick twitching in his hand.

When he finally cums, the three of you begin to relax. To make peace with the strange occurance of the evening.

To make peace with the understanding that it won’t happen again.

Or…maybe it will.

After all…

What are sex clubs for?

Thought I'd give this story a little x Reader makeover! In case it wasn't already blatantly obvious, I am in love with both of these men 😭

Dedicated to @straightontilmornin for being nice enough to want this with me 😭

~ Other Harry and Dylan Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

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camatchoum · 3 months

Text

The third time is the right one

Thomas tmr x reader College AU

Summary : Thomas finally realises his feelings for you. But when he tries to do something about it, it doesn't really go well.

Words : 3.5k

Request : @maddie0101 Thomas x reader college AU? Best friends to lovers?

A/n : Here you go. I'm so sorry for the time it took me for writing this. And I promise I saw all the other requests and I'm so grateful for them but I'm in my exam session so I don't really have the time to write. I'll try to write as fast as I can, but I still have 10 days to go.

My masterlist

“So, still not in love with Y/n?”

Thomas turns his head to see Newt put his elbow on his shoulder.

“Why are you always asking me that?” Thomas says a little bit annoyed that he will again have this conversation.

“I’m only asking you that when you are staring at her like a creep.” Newt answers with a smile. He clearly enjoys bothering his best friend.

“I’m not.” Thomas mumbles.

“What are we talking about?” Minho asks when he approaches the pair.

“Thomas is staring at Y/n.” Newt answers him.

“Yeah like always.” He shrugs.

“Can you two shut your mouths. I am never staring, especially not at her.”

“Are we talking about Thomas staring at Y/n?” Frypan joins the group. Everybody laughs. Well, not Thomas.

“Ok, you know what? I’m leaving you all stupid people.” Thomas starts to turn around while he hears his mates laughing at him.

“Hey Y/n.” He stops when he hears Newt, and the others greet you. He slowly turns around, and a big smile spreads on his face at the sight of his best friend since childhood.

“Hey guys! Hey Tommy!” You greet them than you turn to greet Thomas with a hug, like you always do. Of course, he returns it. He wishes that the feeling of you in his arms never ends. Wait, did he really just think that? “I can’t talk right now I’m sorry, I really have to go to work, but I call you tonight, okay?” You say when you pull back.

“Ye-Yeah totally.” He stutters. Why does he stutter?! Fortunately, you only chuckle at his behaviour and don’t question anything before you walk away.

Thomas, watch you go, and it’s like everything hits him at once.

From the first day, he saw you with your two ponytails crying because you lost your teddy bear until right now. He saw all the time you spent together, becoming best friends with an unbreakable bond. He saw your pretty eyes and all the times he got lost in them, which was a lot. Same with your endearing laugh. He realises it is his favourite sound. He realises his only goal is to make you smile and that you are happy.

“I’m in love with her.” Thomas whispers.

“And that’s only now that you realise it? Congratulations, man.” Minho says, and they all laugh.

“What do I do now?”

“Easy, tell her.” Newt shrugs.

“What! Just like that! Do you hear yourselves?!” Thomas begins to panic.

“Woaw. Calm down, would you? It’s Y/n. She’s not going to eat you.”

“And what if she does?”

“Okay now you are being dramatic.”

“You are right. What do I have to do?”

“Well, you know her more than we do...” Minho says. “Maybe try to do things with her. I know you do a lot of things together, but there has to be something that you don’t do with her.”

“I don’t know. I think, maybe her job? I don’t go to the coffee shop unless I want one, and you know I’m not a coffee guy.”

“Okay, that’s a start.”

“Oh Sonya told me the other day that they were looking for someone.” Newt realises. “You could get the job, and I will ask my sister to put yours and Y/n’s shifts to coordinate.”

“That’s a great idea I will go now.”

“Don’t mess up!” Frypan screams.

“Me? Never!”

Thomas walks away from his mates, a new confidence and a happy feeling in him. He is in love with you. Just thinking about you being his girlfriend makes him all giddy inside. Everything makes sense now, but he has yet to accomplish this goal. He doesn’t know if you feel the same, but he hopes you do. Maybe you don’t know that you love him like he didn’t ten minutes ago. First things first : showing that he loves what you love to do. He goes to the coffee shop, you aren’t there yet. He knows it because he knows that you like to go to your dorm before your shifts to refresh a little after the long day of lectures. He enters the coffee shop and asks for the manager, and 20 minutes later, he is hired. He thinks they were really desperate to find someone.

Try n°1 : the coffee shop

The next day, he is standing in the coffee shop surrounded by coffee machines and so many syrups flavors that he can’t even remember 10% of them. He spent the morning listening to the manager, trying to understand why people couldn’t get a simple black coffee.

Now he is waiting for you to arrive. Thanks to Newt and his sister Sonya, you will both take your shifts at the same time today. He hopes with that that you can see how he takes interest in the things you like. Maybe he will also know if you feel the same. The new revelation that his head had caused him to spend the night thinking about the possibility of being a couple and what would it feels like. He couldn’t think anything else besides happiness.

“Tommy! What are you doing here?!” He lifts his head when he hears your happy voice and a smile.

“Guess who’s your new co-worker!” He teases with open arms. Of course, you run into them.

“Why are you here?” You ask when you pull away with a smile. You are so happy to see your best friend, but this isn’t really his cup of tea or coffee.

“Well, I told you I wanted to find a job.” No, he didn’t. “And I asked myself, why wouldn’t I work with my best friend?”

You are confused because he never told you that he was looking for a job. He even told you two weeks ago when you talked about it that he didn’t have the time for one. But regardless, you are just happy because now you can gossip with him even at work.

“Well, I’m not going to complain.” You say with a smile which cause him to smile back. He was so afraid you weren’t going to like it. “How was your formation? I hope the manager didn’t freak you out.” You ask while putting on your apron with your name tag on it.

“Well, I think he is praying with all his heart that I don’t burn this place before the end of my shift.” He chuckles while scratching the back of his neck. Now that you are in front of him for the first time since he realises his feelings for you, he is a little nervous to be around you. He thought he was going to faint when you hugged him.

“Well, try not to do that.” You both laugh.

And so your shifts begin. You are taking orders from the clients and passing them to Thomas and Sonya. You giggle each time you see your best friend ask Sonya what he’s supposed to put in the drinks because apparently nothing is making sense to him.

After a while, you stop laughing when you have to take care of the fourth customer who is complaining to you about his drink. All made by Thomas. Of course you love your best friend but he is starting to grow on your nerves because he can’t do this right and even though he is your best friend he still has to do well on the job in order to not ruin the reputation of the coffee shop. Customers are not supposed to be angry.

You decide to switch places with him. He is taking the orders, and you are making them. But even then it’s not going well. You keep catching him staring at you. Each time, it makes you flustered, but it stops when you see the angry customer trying to catch his attention. He jumps back to reality, and his cheeks flush red when he faces the customer behind the counter. First, because he is embarrassed by you catching him staring at you and second because the person in front of him isn’t too happy with his daydreaming. He is hurrying to take the order and give it to you without looking into your eyes. You chuckle a little before making the drink. One mocha latte with hazelnut syrup.

“One mocha latte for Linda.” You raise your voice for the customer to hear you. The girl comes and takes her drink for you, thanking you in the process. You begin to make the next drink when you hear Linda trying to catch her breath. You look up at her but think that she is maybe just coughing a little.

“Can someone help, please?!” You hear a male voice. You look up and see him trying to help Linda. Okay, now something is really wrong. You run to the boy.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“She is having an allergic reaction!” The boy screams back while trying to help the suffocating girl.

“Thomas the first aid kit! Now!” You scream at your best friend. “Don’t worry, we have an epipen in there.” You say to the boy, trying to ease him up a bit.

“Here Y/n.” Thomas says to you. He is glad he remembered where this red bag was because right now he is so in panic that he doesn’t know what to do and he tripped on his feet in his run.

You take the epipen and heal Linda. She immediately relaxed, thanking you for saving her. You are all smiling that she is okay, but the boy isn’t really happy about the situation. You can’t really blame him. He turns to you.

“What did you put in her drink?!” He asks you angrily. Thomas goes in front of you to protect you, and your heart flutters.

“I-I- I only put what she asked for : a mocha latte with hazelnut syrup.” You answer shakily.

“She is deadly allergic to nuts. Are you out of your mind?!”

“It’s not my fault, I put in her drink what was on the ticket.” You say with more composure. You know you did nothing wrong. You never do. You turn to Thomas. “What did she ask you?”

“A mocha with hazelnut syrup?” He says or asks himself.

“I asked with vanilla syrup, you shank. I know what I’m allergic to.” Linda says.

You sigh and turn to Thomas once again. He can see in your eyes that you are mad at him. His plan to impress you didn’t really work out for the best. You handle the situation from here, giving a new drink to the poor girl and excuse for the disagreement on behalf of all the coffee shops. The couple goes away, not wanting to be there anymore. And when you turn back, you go straight to your best friend.

“What is wrong with you? Why are you so distracted?”

“I-I-“ He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t just say that he was drooling over the sight of you. That’s what Newt says to him all the time. “I don’t know. I swear I thought she said hazelnut syrup. I won’t do it again, I promise.” Before you can respond, the voice of your manager rings in the shop.

“You are fired.” He screams in your faces.

“What?! You can’t fire her?!” Thomas defends you, but he didn’t even quite understand the situation.

“Not her. You are fired greenie.” Your manager walks away.

“I’m sorry.” You try to comfort him, but he just takes off his apron like he is glad about this turn of events. You can’t lie and say it isn’t a good idea. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You know I don’t like coffee anyway. And all of this adds a reason to hate this brown disgusting liquid.” He says with a smile, and you chuckle. At least you aren’t mad at him. “Guess I see you later?”

“Yeah, see you later.” You say and begin to turn around to go back behind the counter.

“I can’t even have a hug?” Thomas says. You roll your eyes playfully before going into his arms. After a while, you try to pull away, but he isn’t letting you go.

“Thomas I have to go. Unless you, I still have a job.” You grin while he feigns offence. You look into his eyes, and for the first time, you can see a spark in them. Of course, every time you watched them, you saw a spark like glitter. But this time, it is like the spark comes from the entire light of the galaxy.

“You bloody did what?!” Newt exclaims in his dorm room. “She was going to kiss you! And you pulled away!”

“She wasn’t going to kiss me!” Thomas screams back.

“You just told me that she was leaning in! How is that not a sign that she wanted to kiss you?!”

“I chickened out, okay! What if I just thought she was leaning in, and obviously she wasn’t and then it would have been a mess!” Thomas flops on his bed with his face in his pillow. Why can’t he do something right?!

“You are the bloody mess.” Newt mumbles, causing Thomas to throw his pillow at him. “Guess you have to try again.”

“How?” Thomas grumbles.

“Well.” Newt starts to think. “She loves to read, right?”

“Yeah but I don’t like it.”

“Isn’t ithis the whole point? You doing things that she loves but you don’t so that she understands that you want to be with her?” Newt teases.

“Go be a crank somewhere else.” Thomas groans again before he stands up abruptly. “Actually, that’s the perfect idea.” He thinks about all the time you were too concentrated on a book that you weren’t paying attention to him. Even in classes you read. “I have to go!”

“Where?”

“To the library, I know she is there tonight.” He finishes making his bag before he runs for the door.

“Don’t be a shank!”

“Can’t promise!” Thomas screams before going away.

Try n°2 : The library

“Hey Y/n/n!” You look up from your book to see Thomas sitting in front of you at your table in the library.

“Hey Tommy! What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t like being trapped in all these books.” You ask using the expression he tells you every time you ask him if he wants to join you on your reading session. And what is strange is that he never, ever says yes.

“Nothing much. I wanted to try reading a little with you. I know you like to read so I wanted to join you.” He says, causing you to blush a little. He thinks it’s just because it is hot in there. Or maybe it is only him who thinks it is hot since he sat next to you.

“Well go ahead, choose your world of the day.” You smile. He smiles, too. He always likes the way you talk about books, even if he never understands how you can like a pile of paper so much.

And so you both start reading. You fall into a world you hope you never have to leave. You seem so at peace right now, while all Thomas can think about is how this bunch of papers is boring. No wonder why he doesn’t like reading. So he starts to fidget, again, and again.

“Can you try not to move too much? I’m sorry, but you keep distracting me.” You ask sweetly.

“Yeah yeah no worries.”

But he doesn’t stop. Now he starts to adjust his seat, and he fidgets again. You try to send him a soft glare to help him understand that he is getting on your nerves, but he doesn’t stop. When he starts to make noises with his mouth that’s when you lose it.

“Can you bloody stop? I really want to read in peace.” You say with a tone that shows clearly that you are starting to get really mad.

Thomas excuses himself again. He really doesn’t want you to be annoyed by him. You were already mad enough at the coffee shop last time, and

“Oh my god, Thomas!” You scream. When he looks at you he sees your book drenched in water, and he immediately understand that it is his fault when he sees his water bottle that he was playing with on the side, pouring all the water that was inside it on the table, on you.

“Oh my god Y/n I’m so sorry. Wait, let me try to help.” He takes a tissue and starts to dry the book, but it only results in him tearing pages apart. “Okay, that wasn’t a great idea.” He scratches the back of his neck.

“No are you kidding, Sherlock?!” You scream at him with sarcasm.

You try to dry everything, but the librarian just told you that you have to pay for the book and that you are banned from the library for a month for damage. You pay and run off. Thomas tries to excuse himself again, but you have enough.

“Y/n please, let me help.”

“No.” You stop and turn to him. “You did enough.” You say to him before turning back. Thomas watches you walk away. He sighs loudly before going back to his dorm. He knows he can do anything right now.

Try n°3 : the movies

It’s been a week since your encounter with Thomas at the library. You aren’t really mad at him anymore. But the fact that he ruined 2 of the things you like the most makes you think. A lot. Why would he do that to you? You know he doesn’t like these things, but he knows how you love them. Why would he sabotage you? Okay, he didn’t really ruin your job at the coffee shop, but this makes you realise that what you love, he hates. You know you don’t have to love the same things even when you are best friends, but at this point, it is starting to bother you. When you look up from your locker, you can see Thomas approaching with a big smile on his face.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to go to see a movie with me?” He asks while fidgeting with his fingers. Newt and the others convinced him to just ask you out because all his attempts were a disaster. He knows that you love going to the movies.

“No.” You say and walk away. You didn’t quite catch that he was asking you out. You think it is another of his attempts to ruin something that you love.

“Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s not that, but every time for the past weeks, you just destroyed the things I love to do. You don’t even like one of them. I just don’t want you to destroy the movies, too.”

“All of this was an accident, I swear.” He pleads with his eyes. His beautiful brow hazel eyes... focus!

“Why would you even do that in the beginning? You hate coffee, and you hate reading. And I know you don’t like to stay put during a whole movie.”

“I-I-“ Thomas searches for something to say, a lie maybe. But this has to stop. “I wanted to prove to you that I could do the things you love. I wanted to spend more time with you.” He says timidly.

“But we already spend a lot of time together. It’s not like we dont see each other.” You chuckle lightly.

“I know, and I love that. But I want to be constantly with you.” Here goes nothing. “I love you, Y/n.” He can’t look at your face now, afraid of losing his most precious friendship.

“Thomas...” You are in shock. Your best friend loves you back? You dreamed of this day for years. Is it real? “Are you telling the truth?” You ask shyly, causing him to finally look up at you.

“I’m in love with you Y/n. I think I always have.”

There are so many emotions in his eyes right now. You can see principally fear and love, tendress, desire. You just start to lean in. You are afraid he was going to reject you like at the coffee shop a few days ago, but there is a feeling inside you that tells you to just keep going. And you do so until you feel perfect lips on yours. You both kiss for a while. Thomas puts his hands on your face, not wanting to let you go. The kiss starts to get hungrier. Not in a sexual way but more in a way I can’t get enough. I want more.

You both pull appart when you hear whistles and cheers down the hall. Newt, Frypan, and Minho are all cheering at the two of you. You look at Thomas and laugh a little. Thomas just admires you. He can’t believe he finally got you. You are his now.

“Y/n, did I ever tell you the number of times Tomas was drooling while staring at you?”

“Oh shut your bloody mouth Newt!”

------------

Hope you enjoyed guys!

#thomas tmr x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #thomas x reader #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien fanfic #the maze runner

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princess-asteria · 4 days

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With all these coachella pictures coming out, I can't help but think of that amazing Dylan O'Brien fanfic

#dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien imagine

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ifonlyyouandi · 8 months

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Happy Birthday Dylan O’Brien

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien fanfiction

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months

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a little fashion show

kinktober, day four

a/n: bro, the amount of time this idea has been in the notes app on my phone....

warnings: stiles stilinski x reader, smut, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, trying on lingerie, teasing, flashing, kissing

word count: 990

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Who was at the door?” Stiles asked as your giddy form appeared in the doorway to your room once more.

“The mailman,” you giggled, unable to contain your excitement, “and look!”

“You got a package!” not getting as revved up in the excitement as you were, he nonchalantly pointed out the parcel in your palms, “oh, cool!”

“Not just any package, only the one I’ve been waiting about a billion years to arrive,” you shut the door behind you, gazing down at the bundle in your hands with heart-shaped eyes, “you don’t mind if I just try this stuff on right now, do you? I just don’t know if I can wait till you leave.”

Discretely readjusting in his comfortable seat on your mattress, he waved a hand, “no, no, it’s fine.”

“Really? Great!” you squealed, digging your fingers into the opening of the package, “you can help me see if any of it doesn’t suit me or fit right, give you a little fashion show and everything.”

“Alright, sure,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as you disappeared behind the wide bookcase that acted as a divider in the middle of your room.

After changing into the first item, you couldn’t stop yourself from springing back out, arms raised high above your head as you sang, “tada! What do you think?”

“Wow, oh, wow,” you watched Stiles eyes grow wide as they landed on the extremely short nightgown hanging around your form, “that’s-, that’s-…”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you turned your back to your stunned friend to glance at yourself in the mirror, “the floral pattern especially.”

Gaze tracing your hands as they played with the tiny skirt, “y-yeah, it is,” you just barely managed to catch sight of his reflection discreetly move one of your pink pillows over his lap, “it’s good, you should definitely keep that one.”

You hadn’t thought that his blush could have gotten any worse, but evidently, as you soon pranced out clad in the next thing, it very much could.

“What about this one?” you innocently observed the lingerie set in the long mirror, turning a bit to see how the high-waisted, black underwear hugged your bottom, “do you think it fits alright?”

Looking like a broken PlayStation 2 game you’d have to pull out and blow on, Stiles simply hummed, “huh?”

“I just feel like if I jump around or bend over in this, the girls are just gonna spill out,” your nose crinkled as your fingertips ghosted over the cups of the matching bra.

“I mean,” he blinked hazily, “you could test it out, if you want.”

Obliging twice, jumping gently in place, the squint to your eye didn’t fade away as not only you observed how your boobs jiggled in the cups, “hm, I don’t know, maybe one of the ones that has a different cut then this one…”

Peeping through the shy slivers of the bookcase, you bit down on your smirk as you watched the trouble you’d stirred up on the other side. As you slid off the black number, daringly arching your back and purposefully sticking your butt out far enough for him to catch a glimpse, you spotted how a string of your want clung to the panties as you dragged the down your legs.

If this last one wasn’t gonna do the trick, make the guy you’d had a crush on forever fess up and make a move, then you didn’t know what would.

Pink, skimpy and sheer, your pebbly nipples weren’t the only thing on full display as the see-through thong also made your puffy pussylips no secret to anyone.

Your pace as you returned to the mirror was purposefully slow, not looking to Stiles even once as you felt your desperation for him soak the pretty garments.

“T-that-, yeah,” his fluttering eyes were trained on your bare bottom, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” you still didn’t dare to look at him, “you think so?”

“Mhm,” he nearly groaned.

Grazing your touch ever so lightly over the elastic edges, you uttered, “you really think it’s pretty?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Stiles,” you sucked in a deep breath and gathered up the courage through the pumping adrenalin of being so exposed before your crush, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.

“Would you have sex with me?”

The room was dead silent a moment before Stiles choked, “what?”

“Would you fuck me?” you rephrased, still not looking back at him in the refection.

“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”

“Would you fuck me?” gnawing at your bottom lips, you finally turned to face him, “because I kinda really like you, like a lot,” your feet slowly carried you closer to where he sat, “and I don’t know, I’m sorry, am I being too forward? Is this too much? Do you not like me in that way? Because I totally get it if you do, I’m really sorry for everything. I thought you’d picked up on the hints I’ve been dropping for a while now and that you-”

“I do like you!” he rushed to cut off your concern, “I-I-, yes,” seizing your hand in his as he emphasized, “yes.”

“Yes or yes?” you asked, eyes flickering to the pillow hiding his own excitement.

“Yes,” he nodded, swiftly tugging you down in his lap before you could withdraw your proposal.

An airy whimper escaped your lips as he then kissed you, your whole body feeling like puddy in his grasp. Drawing back a moment from his long-awaited pecks, you found yourself offering bashfully, “you know, I could also just give you a handjob or blow you or something if you’re not-”

Using his leverage, he suddenly flung you down against the mattress, effectively cutting your suggestion off as he scurried to hover above you, an earnest grin adorning his lips as he then exclaimed “oh my god, just shut up and let me screw my best friend.”

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles smut #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction

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anisas-nonsense · 2 years

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The devil works hard but fanfic writers work harder

Ps. Y’all are amazing and the most creative writers ❤︎. keep up the amazing work ✩

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strangerstilinski · 9 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; they say ‘showering together saves water’ or.. something like that.. right? otherwise known as, the one where sheer stupidity leads stiles into the shower with his very naked girlfriend. neither one of them is complaining about the turn of events.

warnings; no use of y/n, established relationship, explicit sexual content (vaginal fingering, handjobs, mentions of oral)

word count; +3k

a/n; i fear i'm going to be perpetually unhappy with this so i'm just biting the bullet and posting it and i'm camping so here it is an hour early!! — please be nice. if you’re interested in the original version cut from my Selenophiles series, you can find that here.

please think about leaving a comment/reblogging if you enjoy! i would appreciate either one to the actual ends of the earth.

Wrapped up in a softly hummed rendition of a song that had been rattling around in your brain all day, you didn’t even hear the bathroom door open or click shut again, not alerted to Stiles’ presence until his voice suddenly sounded just to the other side of the shower curtain.

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting. Your boyfriend remaining entirely unaware as you flinched wildly in surprise and nearly slipped in the shower on the other side of the thin sheet of plastic that separated you.

“You mind if I brush my teeth real quick?” He asked.

Your heart was still pounding away in your chest from the scare but you forced out a breathy laugh as you reached for the shampoo.

“No, of course not,” You told him easily, “Why would I mind?”

Fingertips scrubbed at your scalp, the sounds of him already beginning to brush his teeth meeting your ears over the rush of the shower as he finally responded.

“I dunno,” He said, words garbled by the toothbrush and foam in his mouth, “You’re all.. naked, so-”

“Well that’s very noble of you,” You smiled softly to yourself, “But you really didn’t have to ask.”

“Noted.” He said through a mouthful of foam before spitting into the sink.

As you began to rinse suds from your hair, you heard the telltale clacking of his toothbrush against the side of the sink as he flicked beads of water away from the bristles. You were awaiting Stiles’ quick words of goodbye when there was a loud knock at the bathroom door.

“Stiles! You in the shower?” His father’s voice sounded loudly from the hallway.

Your heart thumped quick in your chest with sudden misplaced adrenaline and you found yourself poking your head outside of the shower curtain only to be greeted by Stiles already looking in your direction with wide brown eyes.

“Uh, yeah!” He called back weakly, gaze darting around the small room as if he might suddenly find a perfect place to hide.

“Does he not know I’m here?” You whispered sharply, brows pinched together in confusion.

“No.” Stiles hissed back, “I’m kind of a little bit grounded-”

“What?” You interrupted, still whispering despite your incredulity. “You’re grounded?”

“It’s an unspoken kind of thing but definitely implied and- And I didn’t think he’d be home ‘til late!” Stiles defended in an equally hushed whisper.

“Alright, well.. You mind if I just come in and grab the Asprin real quick?” Sheriff Stilinski's voice asked loudly.

Stiles’ eyes seemed to widen even further with a small squeak of distress, “Um-”

You threw the shower curtain open just enough to to fist your hand in the front of his shirt, yanking him forward until he stumbled and was forced to climb over the lip of the bathtub. The shower curtain was tugged back closed just as the doorknob turned and Stiles’ father cautiously peeked into the room through a cloud of steam.

Stiles was now the one standing directly under the spray of warm water, his pajamas quickly soaking through and plastering themselves to his body.

He was unable to help the way his eyes immediately dropped to the wet skin of your naked chest, but somehow, your instincts seemed to know exactly what was coming next because your hand found its way up to cover his mouth just before a soft groan could slip past his lips, the sound of it smothered by your palm.

“Sorry, my head’s killin’ me.” The Sheriff apologized as the medicine cabinet clicked open.

You uncovered Stiles’ mouth slowly and with caution, narrowing your eyes and tipping your head in a silent urge for him to formulate some sort of response. Brown eyes flicked between yours, his tongue poking out to wet his lips enticingly before he responded to his father.

“Nah, it’s cool, dad. Uh.. No biggie.”

Stiles’ eyes found their way to your naked chest yet again, bouncing back up to your face for a fraction of a second only for his gaze to fall back down to your breasts as if drawn there by an unstoppable force. His mind was decidedly blank, suddenly equipped with only enough brainpower to attempt to memorize the exact shade of your pert nipples in the soft light of the bathroom. A few beads of water from your hair curled their way around your collarbone, pooling in the small dip in your clavicle before welling over and cascading down to the swell of your breast.

You watched him swallow hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as the shower continued to spray against his fully-clothed back.

“Right. Well. G’night.” Sheriff Stilinski called out as the medicine cabinet slammed shut again.

The boy’s eyes snapped up to yours at the sharp sound, a pink flush creeping up his neck from either the warm steam of the shower, the sight of your naked body, or most likely some combination of the two.

“N-night, daddio-” Stiles replied in an admittedly high voice, shaking his head at his you in warning as he watched you pinch your lips between your teeth to hold back a laugh.

The bathroom door finally closed with a loud click and you let your head drop forward onto your boyfriend’s shoulder as you released a quiet giggle.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out.

“Sorry,” Stiles apologized, “For, uh, invading your shower.”

You lifted your head, “I quite literally pulled you in against your will.”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah. I, uh, I guess you did.”

You snorted softly in amusement and watched his eyes flick over your face in a slow trail. His gaze eventually found something of interest behind you and he seemed to hone in on it with a determined focus.

“What are you looking at?” You questioned quietly, craning your neck to examine the shower products on the shelf at your back before returning your gaze to the boy in front of you.

“I, uh.. Well. Literally, y’know.. Anything but your extremely naked body.” He choked out weakly.

A smile pulled at your lips and you inched forward to drag your hands lightly over the soaked-through cotton of his shirt, “There something wrong with my naked body, Stilinski?”

You’d said the words with a teasing lilt to your voice, but Stiles’ eyes seemed to snap back to your own sharply, “No! No, absolutely nothing-” He denied immediately.

“Okay, well, you are allowed to look, y’know,” You told him softly, like you were revealing a secret, “It isn’t like it’s anything you haven’t already seen-”

“Well, yeah but, you- You’re trying to shower and.. If I’m being totally honest, if I look now I’m gonna get painfully hard painfully fast ‘cause I’m already barely holding on here-”

At his words, you shuffled back just a fraction so you could peek down in between you, your eyes catching on the wet, tented fabric of his pajama bottoms. Your hands twitched with the desperate need to touch and you hesitated for only a second before taking ahold of the soaked material of his shirt beneath your fingers.

“Maybe you should shower, too,” You interrupted, licking your lips as you gazed back up at your boyfriend, “I mean, your dad already thinks you are, and you’re already all wet, so y’know.. We should probably get you naked-”

The moment the word left your mouth, you tightened your fingers around wet fabric and stammered quietly, ridiculously nervous considering that you were already naked. And wet.

“-And clean. Naked, to clean your- To wash your body, obviously. I mean, it only makes sense, right?” You suggested eagerly.

The fabric of his shirt inched up his torso, your deft hands revealing his hips and the thick trail of hair at his belly button, but that was where you stopped, waiting for him to give some sort of approval before lifting it any further.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s smart.” He agreed quickly, nodding for you to continue.

You stripped him of the wet article, dropping it at the opposite end of the tub with a quiet smack. When your eyes returned to his, Stiles barely held your gaze before he was cupping your face and dragging your mouth to his. He turned you back into the shower wall and you sighed in contentment as the spray of warm water finally cascaded over the side of your body once again, pleasant goosebumps erupting over your skin.

Stiles’ kisses were an enigma and they very nearly managed to catch you by surprise every time — the way he devoured your mouth with so much hunger yet was still somehow able to hold you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His lips dragged over yours sickly sweet, thumb stroking over your cheek, fingertips digging into your scalp beneath wet hair.

You only managed to hold out for a few desperate brushes of his mouth before you were parting your lips beneath his in silent invitation. When his tongue teased against yours, you caught the taste of mint left behind from his toothpaste and you couldn’t hold back the groan that poured from your mouth into his. You suddenly found yourself craving the taste of it, prodding your own tongue between his lips on the next kiss to chase the lingering flavor in his mouth.

The wet drag of his pajama pants against your naked thighs beneath the stream of water was an immediate reminder that he was still wearing the wet article of clothing and you flicked at them idly, fingertips dipping beneath the drawstring waist. His stomach tensed beneath your hands and he pulled back from the kiss just enough to drop his forehead to yours, eyes raking over your face slowly as he attempted to catch his breath.

“What, um. What do you- I mean, do you, um..” His eyes pinched shut in frustration as his own inability to convey himself.

Your hand slid over his water-slick hip, arm circling around his waist until you could run your fingertips gently along his spine beneath the water, forcing a contented sigh from his kiss-swollen mouth at the contact.

You licked your lips in thought, “I could either jerk you off in here, or we could wait and I can blow you in your bedroom,” You offered quietly, “I’d blow you in here but I’m honestly not entirely sure how it would work with all the water in my face and-”

Stiles nearly whimpered, “You cannot say that shit and seriously expect me to not blow my load, like, immediately.”

Your mouth twisted up into a grin, “Sorry.”

You weren’t.

He dragged you just a bit closer beneath the spray, bare chests sliding against one another. A shaky exhale left his lips and cascaded across your damp cheek, his nose skating softly against clean skin as he craned down to push his face into your neck.

“No you’re not.” He shot back without hesitation.

You sighed softly, head tipping back of its own accord in an open invitation for his lips to find your skin. The soaked through material of his pajama bottoms did nothing to hide the warm, hard length of him pressing against your hip. You slipped your hand just a bit farther beneath the damp cotton until your fist found its home around him, beginning to move in firm jerks as a choked groan sounded in his throat.

“No, I’m not.” You agreed easily.

“Jesus Christ.”

“So?” You asked quietly, words spilling out toward the ceiling as your head rested against the shower wall.

“Huh?” Stiles articulated weakly, the sound swallowed up by the way his mouth was pressed into the skin beneath your jaw. A large hand slipped down the length of your spine, long fingers finding their way to your ass, merely resting there for a moment before a flick of your wrist seemed to spur him on, hand tightening over the soft flesh as he dragged you up against him just a bit harder.

Your ankle hooked around his knee easily, pulling yourself up a bit higher, warm, wet cotton still separating you as you continued to work his length beneath the material.

“Handjob in shower or blowjob in room.” You repeated the options stiffly, thoughts scattered from the feel of his fingertips digging into your backside.

“Shit.” He murmured against your neck, his hips jerking forward to meet your hand, making the movement of your wrist more difficult when it was pinned between your bodies. “I- Um.. I.. Shit-”

“It’s kinda looking like its gonna be handjob if you don’t decide otherwise pretty quick here-”

“But I-” A sharp sound was pulled from him when your hand slipped over the head of his cock, a delicious but quiet uh squeaking out onto the wet skin of your throat. “God, I really want your mouth but-” A quiet groan interrupts him but he carries on after only a brief pause, “If you stop I might die.”

He says the words so seriously that you can’t help the small laugh that pops out.

“Oh, so you want both? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, fuck.. Please-”

“Seems a little-” Its your hushed words that are cut off this time, a small gasp of surprise falling from your lips when the hand on your ass creeps lower, hiking your leg up higher as two of his fingers find your wet entrance. ��Little, um. A little greedy, don't you- Ah! Don’t you think?” Your teasing statement was tainted halfway through as he dipped his fingers inside, long and thick and pushing in to the third knuckle almost immediately.

He begins thrusting in time with the jerks of your hand, synchronized gasps and groans falling from your mouths for a minute before he thinks to respond.

“If you think I’m not gonna give as good as I get then-”

His words cut off with an unabashed moan against wet skin and you nosed at his jaw until he tipped his head up to meet your lips, your scolding shh silenced within the kiss.

“-Then you don’t think very highly of me, huh?” He continued as if he’d never paused at all, his words murmured between slick lips as his mouth slid against yours again and again. “It’d, uh- It’d be a fair trade-”

“Yeah?”

The whispered question was stolen from your mouth when he licked inside, hot and dirty as his nose pushed into your cheek.

“Yeah.”

His own utterance of the word was swallowed up by your gasp when his fingers crooked just so the next time he pushed them in deep. Your grip on him fell slack for only a moment before you recovered with newfound determination, matching his efforts as he sped up the rhythm of his hand.

Your thigh hitched up on his waist that much higher, all but consumed by the desperate hunger you felt to be closer. He returned the sentiment, pulling you in and crowding you back and devouring each of your sounds until it seemed as if he were everywhere all at once.

You traded kisses between stuttered breaths and heady gasps, bodies rolling into one another’s hands as you both chased after the tight pleasure coiling in your guts and building up, higher, stronger, closer–

Stiles came first, a soft whine against your tongue when your fist circled at the head of his cock, twisting and pulling his release from him in thick spurts beneath the wet cotton of his pajama bottoms. You worked him through it, taking control of the kiss as he went slack with his orgasm and finally pushing his pants to the floor of the bathtub with a wet thwack once his hips stopped twitching into your hand.

He fell back into the kiss urgently and you relinquished control without a fight, weak to do little more than throw an arm around his shoulders for support as he redoubled his efforts to make you come.

Thighs trembling, toes curling, your muscles tensed as you were worked closer and closer to your peak. His fingers hit a spot deep inside of you with every thrust and each time sparks danced up your spine with the impact, sharp noises of pleasure were dragged from your lips.

“Sti-” You whined softly, wet mouth falling against his cheek as you tried to alert him to your swiftly approaching release, “’m so close. Shit, I- ’m so close-”

“Shit,” He returned in an urgent whisper, “Shit, okay-”

He eased his hips back from your own, his free hand falling to the apex of your thighs. His lips covered yours again as he began swirling his fingertips around the swollen bud there and your whole body jolted at the sensation. Your mouth fell open with a soft cry as you came, the glide of his fingers both smoother and more sharp as he worked you through it.

As you came down you were panting, hot breaths mingling between your mouths. The steam of the shower felt almost cloying, both of you a little lightheaded from the heat and the exertion. You cracked your eyes open and found his gaze already on you, eyes hooded and heavy, the tip of his nose bumping your own.

“Holy shit.”

It came out as nothing more than a whisper against his lips, your chest heaving in time with his as you both fought to catch your breath. You loosened the tight grip your arm had taken up around his shoulders and neck, mouth slack as you tried to pull in enough oxygen to clear your head.

“That was-”

“Yeah.” He whispered in agreement, forehead falling against yours.

The tip of your thumb pressed into a dark freckle on his chest as your hand made its way down from his shoulder in a slow drag over slick skin. You swallowed around your dry mouth as your leg finally fell free from its place around him and provided instant relief to your muscles.

“You sure you can handle two more orgasms?” You questioned breathlessly, not entirely sure which response you wanted to hear as you swayed against him in the overpowering steam of the shower.

In lieu of an immediate response, his gaze fell downward and your own followed on instinct, catching sight of the long thickness of his cock, already fattening back up against his thigh with arousal.

Tongue feeling suddenly heavy, you were filled with the urge to fulfill your teasing promise, to work him toward his peak all over again with your mouth.

You voice was a breathless whisper when it finally sounded.

“Oh.”

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles stilinski smut #stiles smut #teen wolf stiles #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski #*#dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction

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love-belle · 29 days

Text

the greatest films of all time !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their love was made for the movies but it's like they all say, the greatest films of all time were never made.

for when you know enough to know that you want to move through time with them and them only. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // various celebrities x fem!driver!reader

warnings - language

author's note - a short series bc i literally cannot stick with my original ideas 😭😭 requests are CLOSED my inbox is 100+ i am not kidding im so sorry :((

i. milo manheim ༉‧₊˚.

( every dead end street led you straight to me )

ii. ben barnes ༉‧₊˚.

( you'll be my best friend until we grow old )

iii. drew starkey ༉‧₊˚.

( 'cause summers go so fast )

iv. dylan o'brien ༉‧₊˚.

( your past and mine are parallel lines )

v. matt sturniolo ༉‧₊˚.

( you'd be the love of my life when i was young )

...more !!!

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dylobilysmomg · 3 months

Text

Drive-In Shenanigans

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟭.𝟲𝗸+

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗦𝗲𝗺𝗶-𝗽𝘂𝗯��𝗶𝗰 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

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asterias-record-shop · 10 months

Note

ok but like maybe stiles stilinski with a spoiled rich reader maybe who has vibes like lydia?¿? maybe w number 21 ?¿? possibly…

—𓆩[warmth]𓆪—

omg, this is literally the longest fic I've ever written for this blog, I really hope you guys enjoy it!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Stiles Stilinski x Fem! Rich! Vampire! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 6.0K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - No one expected you and Stiles to start dating. Come on, a rich vampire posing as a high school student who could’ve been a real life Cullen? Fuck no. But, it happened, and Stiles fucking loves you - and your fangs - probably more than he should, and he wants to try something.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and smut || I was forced to watch twilight and this is what happened I love it || kinda sub stiles || mentions of mates || scent glands || marking || mentions of Wattpad & fanfic || i got WAY too into this shit man- || stiles did research || biting kink || blood kink || multiple rounds || oral || face sitting || cum eating || creampie || unprotected sex ||

“So, tell me again how this happened?” Coach was baffled as you sat in his class, your hand in Stiles’ as the topic interrupted your lesson in your economics class. “Like, the dating part. How the heck did you end up with her, Stilinski?!”

You cleared your throat, raising your hand. “I uhm… we’ve been dating for a while, Coach.”

“Yeah, I know! I just didn’t believe it until I saw Stilinski trying to kiss you when he thought I wasn’t looking! Come on kid, you’re that desperate?!” Bobby groaned, pressing his face into his hands. “Why is it always the nice ones who get with the… the Stiles?”

You laughed. “I don’t know who you’ve talked to, Coach, but I am not nice.”

“Yeah, she’s not!” Scott said, twirling his pencil before you glared at him. “Nice. Sh-She’s not nice.”

“Oh, shut up, McCall! You’re just mad because Stiles likes hanging out more with me than you,” you stuck your tongue out at him, letting out a soft humph as you cross your legs under the desk. “And he’s mad I took his boyfriend too.”

“Y/N, we weren’t-”

“Hush darling, Scott and I are talking,” you say, smiling widely at him as you kiss his nose. “Thank you baby.”

“This isn’t happening,” Coach groaned into his hand before the bell rings, a giggle falling from your lips. “Right? This isn’t happening?”

“Oh it’s happening!” You laughed, standing as Stiles cleared his throat.

“Y/N, baby, I have practice today.” He said, Scott coming behind him and sticking his tongue out at you. “I’m sorry.”

You pouted, pretending to think. “Why don’t you just skip? I’ll buy the school new lacrosse gear.”

“I’m right here!” Coach yelled, but quickly got up. “I would be interested in new lacrosse gear though.”

“Yeah, see? Come on, let’s skip.”

“No! We have the quarter-finals this week, he can’t miss. Y/N, he can’t miss,” Scott turned to you, hoping that he could persuade you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. “Come on.”

“Oh I forgot about that,” coach mumbles, glaring at the wall. “Okay, he’s gotta come, but the school would like new lacrosse gear.”

“Here, how about this,” you say, shaking your head as you fix your skirt. “Stiles goes to practice and I’m on the field.”

Coach scoffed. “On the field? Doing what?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed, leaning on the table as you pulled Stiles closer. He followed obediently as you licked your teeth, humming. “Play lacrosse?”

Scott scoffed. “Play lacrosse?”

You tilted your head, crossing your legs. “What, like it’s hard?”

Coach starts to laugh, nodding. “Okay! Okay, you’ll be on the field! Stiles, lend your girlfriend some clothes, we’re getting new lacrosse gear!”

Coach walked out as you giggle, Stiles staring at your smile and the sharpened canines that he fucking loved to stare at.

Scott starts to walk out, pausing to look back at the two of you. “Stiles, you coming?”

“I-In a minute, Scott,” he smiled back at his friend before looking at you who positioned yourself on the desk with crossed legs. “I’ll be there.”

He hummed as he walked out, Stiles letting his hands settle on your hips as you parted your legs so he could slot himself between them. “Hey, my darling.”

You giggled, pushing back his hair. “Hey, honey,” you whisper back, smiling as you nuzzle your nose against his with a soft sigh. “Do you… do you think I’m too mean to Scott?”

“You’re not mean,” he says, laughing. “You and him have like… an ancestral rivalry. He’ll get over it.”

You giggle, pulling him closer for another firm kiss, groaning as your tongue pushed into his mouth, your hand pulling his head back by tugging on his hair. He groaned loudly as your tongue circled around his, humming as your head pounded. You could hear his heart beating incredibly fast, his arteries pulsating, and by hell’s name, you could smell the horniness drifting off of his body, along with the smell of dog because of Scott.

Even newly turned, you could still control yourself with Stiles as of yet. You both had had sex a few times, more than a few actually, but that was before you were actually aware of his… human-ness. You were born a vampire, now in your final years of highschool as you aged regularly and your family was kept alive by blood bags supplied by the numerous hospitals your family owned.

Your instincts never got in the way because of how well fed you were, but this was different. You could feel everything; his heart, his arteries, his veins, fuck even his cock pulsating. Your heightened senses caught everything, groaning as you attempted to pull him closer, another loud groan falling from his lips as you pulled him closer, a choke filling your ears making you pull away, your fangs grazing his bottom lip making him hiss.

A shiver runs down your back as he lets out a soft groan, laughing slightly as he licks his lip. “You alright, Y/N?”

You hummed, not really paying attention to his words as you stared at his lip dripping with that delicious coppery liquid, leaning forward to lick against his lip and a loud groan left his mouth as you sucked on his lip, desperate for that taste. It was different though, his blood tasted sweet, unlike blood bags, animals, and even humans for fucks sake.

“Y-Y/N,” he whispered, groaning. “I-It kind of hurts.”

You gasped as you pulled away, staring at his slightly swollen bottom lip as he smiled down at you, pushing back your hair. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, humming so that you would look at him. “Hey, Y/N, don’t worry about it,” he says, his smile growing as he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “I’ll be a blood bank for you any day.”

You inhale sharply, shaking your head. “Don’t say that. Y-You don’t know how dangerous that is.”

“Why?” He asked, tilting his head. “I know you can control yourself.”

You scoffed, pushing him back. “Did you not see what I just did? If you wouldn’t have said something, I would’ve kept going.”

“But I did say something,” he says, quickly stepping forward and holding your hips again. “Just because I said it hurt-ed, doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head. “Hurt-ed?”

He hummed, nodding. “Hurted. It’s the past tense.”

You shook your head, laughing. “No it’s not, the past tense is still hurt.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not anymore, it’s hurted now.”

You giggle, shaking your head before sighing. “I’m gonna go write that check, okay? I… I think I’m gonna go home, too.”

His brows ruffled, quickly blocking you from jumping down. “Why?”

“Because it’s not safe for me to be around so many people,” you responded, humming as you quickly went around him. “Come to my house after school? We need to talk.”

He quickly caught your hand, one you could’ve easily avoided, but he shook his head. “Y-You’re not breaking up with me, right?”

You giggled, smiling sadly with a shake of your head. “Just meet me at my house, alright?”

He cleared his throat but nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly pulling you in for a soft kiss. “I love you, Y/N, I love you so much.”

You hummed softly, nodding. “I love you too, my darling.”

He swallowed as you walked out, pulling out your checkbook and writing a number with a lot of zeros on the main line before crossing out the rest, signing and doing the rest of the things before passing by Coach and pressing it to his chest. “Let me know if you need more, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“What? Where are you going?” He yelled out as you waved back at him.

“Have something to do at home! I’ll see you!” You yelled, looking back with a smile. “Good luck, Coach!”

He mumbled something as you walked out, quickly making your way back home and parking outside your secluded mansion that truly could’ve been out of the movie. It didn’t take you long to get up to your room, quickly getting caught by Kirshe, one of the vampire elders that your parents were friends with. “Y/N, are you alright?”

Of course she knew what you were feeling. “O-Oh, I’m fine,” you responded, humming with a slight smile. “Just some… relationship problems.”

She paused, her golden eyes trailing down your body before flashing a bright red. “He doesn’t know he’s your mate, does he?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not only that, Kirshe.”

She hummed, taking a deep inhale. “And he’s human too, isn’t he?”

You inhaled deeply, nodding. “Taken in by a pack of dogs.”

Kirshe laughed. “Oh, it’s always the best of us, my love. He’s… why are there problems now?”

“I tasted his blood,” you giggled, shaking your head with a scoff. “It’s just like the stories describe it. Addicting, sweet… perfect.”

“Do you want to turn him?” She asked, making you shrug. “Does he want to be turned?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

Back at the school, Stiles was going crazy. “Do you think she’s going to break up with me?”

“She would never,” Scott responded, scoffing. “She’s too in love with you.”

“You’re just mad because you thought she was hot,” Stiles grinned, putting on a shirt that hadn’t been near Scott. He knew how much you hated the smell of wolves. “Right?”

“Oh shut up,” Scott scoffed, shaking his head. “Where did she go anyways?”

“Home.” Stiles said, humming. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I can smell how horny you are.”

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I uhm… we were making out earlier. She was… sucking on my lip after it started bleeding.”

Scott froze, quickly looking at him. “What?”

“You’re overreacting so much,” Stiles said, shrugging. “We’ve had sex before.”

“But she’s never sucked your blood, right?”

Stiles could feel his cheeks heat up, about to say something before Scott groaned loudly. “Dude, the smell got stronger! Holy shit, does that turn you on?!”

“Fuck yeah it does!” Stiles said, thankful the two of them were the only ones in the locker room. “Dude, when we like, get heated, she runs her fangs along my neck, holy shit, it’s so hot.”

“And you want her to suck your blood?” Scott paused, staring at him. “You want her to turn you?”

Stiles paused, staring down at his bag before inhaling deeply. Is this what Bella Swan was feeling when she was with Edward Cullen?

“I want to be with her for the rest of my life,” Stiles said, grabbing his bag before smiling at Scott. “If it’s this one or one hundred, I don’t care. I want her, forever.”

Scott inhaled deeply before sighing, shaking his head with a slight smile. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”

Stiles smiled, all sarcasm gone. “Yeah, I am.”

“What about your dad?” Scott asked the inevitable question, inhaling deeply. “I-I’m not trying to like… ruin anything, but if you get turned… what are you going to do to him?”

Stiles smiled, shrugging. “He’ll be my dad. Always. What he wants to do is up to him.”

After that, he waved goodbye and quickly drove to your house, way over the speed limit to get there faster. As soon as he pulled up, he smiled when he saw you on your balcony, staring at him like you knew he was coming - which you probably did.

He quickly got out, waving up at you as you giggled. Normally your family was there to greet him, but they were obviously gone as he walked inside and up to your room.

He doesn’t knock, mainly because there was no point, slowly walking behind you as you stood on your balcony. His arms go to wrap around your waist, leaning onto your body as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, your hand going to hold his jaw as you exhaled deeply. “How was practice?”

“Good,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Missed you. I changed into something that I hope doesn’t smell like Scott.”

You giggle, nodding. “And it doesn’t, thank you.”

“So uhm…” he whispered, humming against your neck as you moved your hands to settle over his. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, you read up on vampires when you met me, right?” You hummed, smiling as he nodded into your neck. “Did you get to the part about mates?”

He paused, his hands tightening around your waist. Did you find your mate? He had read up about them, but never really retained the information because no one ever spoke of them, but obviously for pure blooded vampires like your family, of course they existed.

“I-I… I did,” he whispers, pulling you closer. “There wasn’t much about how it works for bloodborne vampires.”

“Would you like for me to tell you how it works?” You asked, smiling up at him.

“Wh-Why would you tell me if I’m not your mate?” Stiles whispered, slight annoyance in his voice before you started laughing. “What?”

“Stiles, you’re so lucky you’re hot,” you turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re my mate.”

He paused, staring down at you blankly. He was your mate? Why?

When you started laughing, he realized he must’ve said it out loud, your hands cupping his face. “Why not? I think it’s fitting, don’t you?”

“Th-That’s not what I meant,” he didn’t mean to stutter, it always happened around you though. He groaned loudly as your fingers dragged down his neck, sparks following your touch as you smiled up at him. “I meant like… how are we mates?”

You paused, pursing your lips. “Kirshe said mates are decided by the gods where in past lives their love ‘changed the fate of the world’,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply as you stroked his hair. “Do you think we could’ve changed the fate of the world, Stiles? In our past lives?”

He inhaled deeply, nodding as he leaned his forehead down against yours. “I know we could’ve,” he whispered back, pressing his lips softly against yours. “Because I love you more than anything else in the world.”

You smiled widely, letting out a loud laugh as he picked you up and turned the both of you around to go back into your bedroom. He slowly laid you in the bed, crawling over your body and laying down next to you to pull you into his chest. You sighed heavily against his chest, stroking his shirt before pulling it down slightly to see his exposed skin. You could hear his heart beating, his valves and ventricles pumping, his lungs inhaling and exhaling, his diaphragm expanding and deflating - fuck, at this point, you hated that he was human at this point.

“Y/N?”

You hummed, looking up at him as your fingers trail over his exposed collarbone. “Yes, my love?”

“I-I was wondering… if you could uhm… turn me. Like, actually turn me… into a vampire like you,” Stiles said as you started to sit up, staring at your face pinched up as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Stiles, why do you want to be a vampire?” You asked, staring at him like he was crazy. “You would watch the people you love die over and over again. You have the choice to grow old and-”

“And what about you?” He whispered, taking your hand in his. Besides his dad and Scott, you were the only person alive right now that he cared for, especially after he was impacted by Void. You stuck with him even after that, how could he let you go now? “You would watch me grow old and wait for me to be born again? Huh?”

“That’s not what I meant, Stiles-”

“I want to be with you,” the brunette filled in, staring at you with those whiskey colored eyes. “For the rest of my life, and I want it to be where you don’t have to watch me die in the end. I want to spend… the rest of my life young with you.”

“But in turning you, I’d watch you die too,” you whispered, inhaling deeply as your eyes watered. You had thought about this before, turning him, but then you thought about what he would go through. You were the first bloodborne vampire ever recorded, because of course the Court took note of every vampire turned, but you were the first one born of two Elders who didn’t think they could get pregnant. You knew what vampires went through when they’re turned, but what would Stiles go through? Turned by a bloodborne who was their mate? “You have to die to become a vampire, Stiles. I would have to kill you.”

“Then kill me.” He sat up, holding your face in his hands as he smiled at you. “I’ve died before, what's another time?”

“Not like this, Stiles,” you whisper, gasping as he wiped the tears from falling down your cheeks, leaning forward to kiss against your skin. “The turning of a mate isn’t something that just happens. It takes days, months, rituals, I have to mark you, we have to be married for fucks sake-!”

You couldn’t finish, gasping as he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap with a loud groan. “Well then mark me. That’s the start, right?”

You gaped at him, his stupid smile as he stared at you. “You know that means I have to bite you, right?”

“Yeah, it’s like those werewolf stories on Wattpad.”

“You were on Wattpad?”

“It was a dare, moving along. Does it like stay a bite mark or does it like turn into a tattoo?”

“I don’t know, a bloodborne has never marked anyone before,” you say, but your eyes narrow at him. “The hell are you reading where it turns into a tattoo?”

“I don’t know, it turns into their initials,” he shrugged, but paused. “Do I get to mark you too?”

“You want to mark me?” You say, smiling with a slight bounce making him hold back a grunt. “You can mark me right now.”

He smirked, staring at you as you slipped off your shirt to expose your shoulder. “Didn’t you say there’s a process?”

“Not for marking,” you respond, but pause. “But if you mark me, we have to get married soon, because I have to turn you in the span of a few months. Or maybe not because I'm bloodborne, so it could be different.”

“What if I don’t get turned?”

“You turn into a lust crazed monster until I do turn you, but it’s more lethal because since you’re so obsessed with sex, your mind doesn’t process the turn until your body is on fire. Well, it feels like it’s on fire.”

He pursed his lips. “So for the rest of eternity we’re just going to be a rich family hidden in the woods? Like the Cullens?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re just gonna ignore the fact that you’ll turn into a lust crazed monster?”

He grinned. “Well, who am I lusting for? You, right?”

“Well yeah, you have my blood in your veins, so of course you lust after me.”

“I see no problem in that.” He responds, ignoring the fact that his body might not register the turn.

You laughed, shaking your head as you pulled his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. “Well, you want to get this mating thing started, don’t you?” Your fingers move to trail down his chest after he unclasped your bra, your skin cold to the touch until his warm hands flattened against your back. “When you first bite, it’ll taste odd until that zing runs up your back. Then, I’ll tell you when to stop, alright? As soon as you stop, your mind might get kind of hazy and you’ll probably be really horny, alright?”

He laughed. “More horny than I am now? Impossible.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, tugging on the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Immediately, he pulls away and raises his arms for you to take off his shirt, your eyes staring at his mole covered chest. You inhale shakily as you finally meet his eyes, your hands pressed against his warm chest as he pushed his face into your neck, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you pulled him closer before kissing his ear.

“Are you sure you want this, Stiles?” You whisper, holding his face as you pull away. “It doesn’t have to happen now.”

He smiled up at you, shaking his head as he continued to press kisses to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “For the rest of eternity, remember?”

You smile, inhaling deeply as his tongue flattened against your neck making you lean your head to the side.

“Where do I bite?”

“Anywhere,” you mumbled, your mind hazy as you inhaled the smell that was so uniquely him, whiskey and mountain air combined with pine that made you walk straight toward him when you moved to town. “Anywhere you want.”

He pauses, pulling away to tilt his head up at you. “So it doesn’t have to be on your neck like in the stories?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course not. Anywhere you bite, like you said, it turns into initials surrounded by a slight imprint of your bite.”

He pauses, letting his eyes trail over your bare torso as he slowly moves so that you were actually seated in his lap. “Can I do it…” he lets his eyes trail over your skin, humming as he pressed a soft kiss to the space of skin a little lower to where the end of your clavicle was. “Here?”

“Why there?”

“Because,” he whispered, his eyes almost darkening as he let his tongue flatten against your skin, getting it wet with his spit as you groaned, tilting your head back. Your hips automatically roll into his, a loud groan falling from his mouth as he pulls away for a minute. “You gotta show it off, don’t you? Gets you to wear those low cut shirts I fuckin’ love.”

You gasped as his teeth finally sunk into your skin, your body basically on fire as he groaned against your skin. Like you said, it tasted weird at first, coppery and tangy until it flooded his mouth, the smell of the perfume you wore that he learned wasn’t actually perfume shifting into taste instead of the layers of smell you always smelled like. It was sweet and fruity, like strawberries and cherries with sweet cream and that white angel cake, tangy from the berries and sweet from the pastries.

Fuck, it tasted so good. His teeth were deep in your skin, the only cooling part of your body where his teeth sank and drew blood, his hot body making yours feel even hotter.

You could feel your mind get hazy, your eyes rolling back as he tried to suck harder, a loud groan falling from his lips as his hands pawed at your ass, your hips rutting into his almost automatically before you tugged on his hair. “St-Sti, not too much, you could get sick.”

He basically whined, only pulling away by the tug of his hair before licking over the bite mark left on your skin. He panted, watching it as though it would change into the black tattoo-ink like color he was truly expecting it to turn in an instant.

You giggled, quickly catching his jaw before pulling him up to look at you. “It’s not going to happen until I mark you first, my love.”

He stared up at you, eyes a dark chocolate color, lips slightly stained and his tongue tinted a darker red. “Oh.”

You giggle, leaning down to press firm kisses to his skin, never stopping your firm thrusts of your clothed hips against his own, tongue trailing around his skin scattered with moles. “Where do you want it, baby?”

“Where everyone can see,” his hands were shaking from excitement, the taste of your blood sending electricity through his body, tongue flattening against your shoulder and holding back the urge to sink his teeth in again. “Wherever you want it to be, as long as it’s on show.”

“So…” you whisper, letting your tongue trail down the side of his jaw, pushing against the moles under his ear. “Like, here? Or… lower?”

“A-A little lower, please,” he whispered, words breathy as he focused on your hips rolling into his, hard and your hot cunt sliding against his hard cock. He could feel your wetness through your shorts and his jeans, hissing as you leaned forward and kept your hips there, releasing your weight just a bit to keep his cock slotted between your folds. “Fuck, please.”

You hummed, your tongue flattening on the pulse filling your ears until going to the side of his neck. “Here?”

“Mhm,” he merely hummed, nodding into your neck as his hands shakily grabbed your hips. “D-Don’t stop your moving hips, please.”

You giggle, your eyesight basically blurring as you stare at his neck, that one mole catching your eye before you inhaled deeply and felt your canines extend, a comical shing filling the room as you sunk your teeth into his skin. You could barely focus on his cock rubbing against your clothed cunt, one of his hands slipping in between you both to tug your shorts and underwear to the side, pushing his fingers into your leaking cunt and his fingers thrusting into your cunt. You were so tight, so so tight and wet, two of his fingers easily pushing into you and rolling his fingers inside of you.

You were so distracted with the taste of his blood, pushing in and out, in and out, but it was nothing compared to how good he tasted. He tasted like caramel, underlying with nutty butterscotch and whiskey, maybe a slight bit of salt that balanced everything out. You groaned loudly, eyes flying open as he pulled his finger out, the sound of him unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them to pull his cock out of his boxers and push his tip into you making you moan loudly against his skin.

Oh it was almost as though you couldn’t stop, your head pounding as you felt his veins pumping and heart beating, a soft gasp making you pull away, cursing. Was it too much? Did you take too much from him?

“Why did you stop?” He whispered, staring up at you with hazy eyes. “I liked it. I-I loved it. It felt like lightning-”

“Stiles.”

“L-Like lightning was traveling down my spine and filling my veins-”

“Stiles.”

He paused, staring up at you as you looked down at your skin, smiling when you saw the initials MS surrounded by the faded gray bite mark. “Mieczysław. Fuck, I love that name, I love your name.”

“I love you,” he whispers back, smiling as you giggled down at him, his face pressing against your skin before kissing his initials. “I love you so much.”

You smile as he slowly pushes you onto your back, his eyes a dark chocolate brown as he pulls out just for a minute, pulling off his pants after kicking off his shoes and tugging down your shorts and pretty panties. Your eyes rolled back as he flattened his tongue against your wet slit, flicking his tongue against your puffed up clit before sitting back on his feet and pumping his cock. You could see his cock covered in cum, inhaling deeply as you looked over at his discarded boxers, a splatter of cum making you giggle.

“I made you cum in your pants, Mieczysław?”

He groaned as he pushed back into you, staring at the creamy ring he started to leave around your entrance that kept sucking him farther and farther into you. He groaned, his mind fully attentive to your cunt basically swallowing his length, whimpers and squirming finally starting when he left the last few inches. His eyes flickered up to your face, a groan falling from his lips as he saw his initials on your skin, your face pinched in pleasure and eyes rolling back as he thrusted into you sharply to watch that creamy ring settle on his base and your hands flying to his forearms.

“Fuck, fuck Stiles!”

He shook his head, holding your hips with a grunt. “No baby, call me by my real name,” he said, cursing softly as he started to thrust his hips, watching your body bounce with each thrust, your tits moving and his eyes trained on the mark he made. You were right, he was so fucking addicted to the feeling of you around his cock, more lightning traveling up his spine as your nails dug into his forearm, blood making your eyes flash red. “You always say it so fucking nice.”

He watched you groan loudly, moving so his chest pressed against yours and moving his arms to support him. He watched your mouth move to his forearms, your tongue flattening against his skin and licking up all of the blood, his mouth moving to your head to press kisses against your hair, groans falling from his mouth with each thrust before you moved to stare up at him, pulling him down to kiss him, that same coppery tang disappearing and fading into the same whiskey flavor you had been addicted to.

“Mieczysław,” you whispered, gasping as his thrusts got faster, whining as his hand pushed down to circle against your clit torturously before his other hand gripped your thigh, digging his nails so deep into your skin he drew blood. “F-Fuck!”

He groaned as he pushed his fingertips against your skin, covering them with that crimson liquid before pushing them into his mouth and slamming into you one last time to cum inside of you, the gushing of his cum making you cum from the almost inflation like feeling. It didn’t take you long to push him over, though, staring at his already healed forearm. You smiled as you began to roll your hips, desperate as his tip kissed your cervix, pushing deeper and deeper at this new angle as you moaned loudly, holding his chest and staring down at the mark with your own initials on his skin.

It fueled your movements, staring down at the cum smearing along his pelvis, whimpering as you bounced on his length. “Please, please, fuck!”

“You need my help, don’t you?” He teased, lifting his hips to roll into you at the same time you pushed down, your eyes rolling back as he pushed even deeper inside of you - something you truly didn’t think could happen. “Right?”

“Yes! Yes, yes!” You pleaded, gasping as he forced his hips up into you, thrusting over and over again at the same speed you were bouncing on his cock with even more force than you could ever imagine. You were so lost in pleasure, his warm hands holding your hips as you tried to stay sitting up, your body finally registering the fresh human blood in your veins. It had been a while since you had anything other than bagged blood or animal blood, and as a result, your high was gone and inevitably coming down until he slammed his hips up into you, your eyes rolling back as the knot in your stomach snapped and a loud moan of his name - his real name - left your mouth.

He groaned underneath you, his cum gushing out of your cunt as you slowly got off, staring at his still hard cock. You giggle, smiling as you pumped his cock and licked the cum sliding down his shaft, groaning as he bucked his hips up into your mouth. You kept it in your mouth, moaning loudly as you bobbed your head, pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and staring at his face.

You didn’t register his human features, not anymore, his blood pumping and his lungs filling with air or exhaling air, only the fact that the cum on his cock tasted so fucking delicious and your fingers cupping and squeezing his balls which made his hips buck and you pull back to feel his cum flood your mouth. You groaned, sucking on his pretty tip and your hand fisting his cock, swallowing the salty liquid before pulling away.

Your mind was full of lust as you slowly crawled up his body, his hands immediately catching your hips as you hovered over his face. His eyes were hazy with lust as you grinned down at him. "You're such a good boy, honey. I think you deserve a treat."

He groaned loudly as you slowly released your weight, holding the sides of his head as his hands hold your thighs, your hips rolling into his mouth as his tongue pushed into your cunt, basically pulling all of the cum from your pussy, your eyes rolling back as one of his hands pushed between your thighs and straight into your cunt.

His flexing fingers guided the rolls of your hips, moans falling from your lips as you attempted to cover your mouth before a finger pressed to your clit and his teeth grazed your pussy. You whined loudly, your stomach twisting as you attempted to chase that high, his fingers pushing into you to press against that place that made your stomach go tight and your eyes roll back, curses falling from your lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Mieczysław!”

He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations making you shiver as he slowly lifted you from his face and push you down so you sat on his cock. He slowly pushed into you, a shiver going down your back as he held your face, pulling you up for a firm kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, Mieczysław,” you whisper back, smiling as his lips quirked up into a smile of his own, sighing heavily. “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, I feel great,” he smiled, shrugging. “Really horny.”

You laughed, nodding. “We can keep going,” you whisper, smiling as you lay against his warm chest. “Just… let me lay here in your warmth for a minute.”

“Will you miss it?” He whispers, stroking your cheek as he stares down at you. “M-My warmth.”

You inhale deeply, nodding as your hand rubbed against his chest where his heart was, the beating already slowing down. “Yeah, I will,” you shrug though, giggling. “But we’re the first of our kind, my love. I’m hoping you’ll keep it.”

“Then I do too.”

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