Uuuuuuhhh, Prompt Requests Open!!! Im Going For Escort With Dylan Pleaseee!!!

uuuuuuhhh, prompt requests open!!! Im going for escort with Dylan pleaseee!!!

send me a PROMPT for a 'yearn for you' blurb -

[ ESCORT ] : sender accompanies the receiver home late at night, in order to ensure they’re safe.

"You didn't have to walk me to my hotel, you know. I'm sure I would've been fine on my own." You mentioned, hands deep in your pockets as two sets of feet walked side-by-side along the wintery streets of Manhattan. A deep chuckle sounded beside you easily bringing a smile to your face, before a large shoulder was nudged against yours.

"Perhaps, but in all honesty, I saw the opportunity to escort a pretty girl through possible dangerous streets, so I took it." He spoke pragmatically, allowing a contented sigh to slip past his lips, a fog of condensation appearing in front of his face. It had been just over five minutes since you were saying goodbye to your castmates; the late Friday evening spent at a local bar destressing about the week with a few drinks and a few laughs. It was then that Dylan decided to continue his night by your side, insistent in walking you to your hotel as his New York apartment was only a little further along.

The thought brought a smile to your own face, accompanied by a gentle shiver of the growing cold atmosphere. Dylan caught your movement out the corner of his eye. With a forced clearing of his throat and nervous stretch of his fingers, the man turned to you, the whisky shade of his eyes waring you instantly, "You cold? Get under my arm." You gazed across to his now held-out arm, a further invitation to share his body heat as you cuddled into his side.

You nodded your head once before looking down, trying to hide the growing crimson blush gathering on your cheeks. Any form of hesitancy melted away as you moved closer to him; Dylan almost immediately tugging your smaller frame flush against his own, the comfort becoming enough for you to place your head against his chest as his large arm dropped to your shoulders. Molding into his side allowed you to feel safe from the impending vexatiousness of the cold snowflakes landing on your cheeks; the known danger of late night Manhattan streets that came a close second now fading away.

"You can be such a sap when you want to be." You spoke, the gentle tone of your voice posing as a welcomed interruption to your comfortable silence. Fingers tapped against your shoulder and his arm remained weighted, the small act of affection provoking a quirk of your lips and a bashful smile to appear between your continuously growing blush. You could feel his chest shake with laughter under your cheek before your threaded your hand in between the tapping fingers, "But it's sweet, you're sweet. I have a feeling you already know that though."

"Does it make me a sap to say that you're the one who makes me sweet?" Dylan retorted, his voice playfully nonchalant. The spark between you both was obvious; seen in the way you would tease each other, eventually ending with a severe case of flirtation and giddy happiness. Being in his arms even now was a regular occurrence - but it never went past the intimacy of your friendship - nervousness always standing in the way. His words resonated in your mind as you reciprocated his earlier laugh, nudging him as much as you could with your shoulder.

It was only mere minutes before your feet shuffled to a stop outside of your hotel room; Dylan was unwilling to let you go from the moment you left the city streets, to where he nuzzled his nose into your snowflake decorated hair in the elevator. Your eyes bored into his whisky-shade pair, your teeth absentmindedly holding your bottom lip captured. You glanced over to your unlocked door before back to the taller man, his facial features still contorted in a drunken-like haze of contentment.

You cleared your throat, "Thank you for walking me home... did you, I mean - did you want to come in? I don't think I'm ready for you to go just yet."

Dylan released a breathless sigh; as if he was holding his breath in anticipation, as if he was waiting for you to ask. The over-exaggerated nod of his head was an indication that he, too, wasn't ready to leave. His voice dropped, raspiness tickling the ends of his words, "I'm up for anything if it means staying by your side."

Revelations || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary : Remembering Stiles leads to remembering your hidden feelings for him. [REQUESTED]

Words : 5.4k

Warnings : smut , oral, angst, not proof read

Notes : this is my first published smut on this blog, fingers crossed! PLEASE BE KIND!!!

The corners of your eyes squinted harshly as you screwed them tight, your lips somewhat parted, chest heaving with deep and sharp intakes of breaths. Your body was stuck between a battle of writhing with pleasure and completely freezing with the upcoming climax - this is what he did to you. It was indescribable how euphoric this moment was, even the roughest and fastest of actions still managing to appear slow as you savoured every touch and sound. Heat travelled along your skin in usison with the prickling goosebumps he gave you and suddenly everything felt like the ultimate out of body experience. You were too dazed to feel your fingertips dragging down his back or to feel the thin layer of sweat bead over your skin, pursed lips pressing lazily to his shoulder. Your voice was caught in your throat even though you desired to scream out as your bodies thrusted as one unit along a blue and black plaid bed sheet, legs tangled, and hands now joined and held over your head. You couldn’t see his eyes or the way your joint pleasure contorted his facial features due to his face being deeply buried in the crook of your own shoulder, teeth and tongue harassing your collarbone.

Your vision slowly blurred, prompting a sudden sharp pain to claim home behind your eyes.

The body wrapped around yours stayed in place, even when you tried to voice that something was wrong. He couldn’t hear you. Your hands and arms could no longer move; your legs losing feeling altogether. All previous sensations of pleasure had dissipated as anxiousness set it and took complete ownership. The thumping reverberations of your racing heart ricocheted through your chest and onto the mattress underneath, the rate increasing the more you tried to wiggle free. It was as if your body didn’t want you to leave - as if it wanted you to stay and see something, hear something, remember something. It wasn’t until a barely audible whisper regained your focus, hot breath tickling your left ear, an ‘I love you’ echoing through every part of you. The reiteration of blood coursing through your veins and loud beats of your heart stopped within seconds before you were encased in utter silence. Hearing a pin drop would surely shatter the intensity of this silent sound barrier. The head laying on your shoulder lifted with slow pace, the first thing you notice being the deep caramel tone of his irises - the familiar caramel tone. The brown set of eyes glanced to your lips and back up to match your focus. The slightly wet and pink swell of his lips cocked into a truly happy smile, the grin sitting between freckle and mole splattered cheeks and a soft rose hue blushing along his pale complexion. The boy spoke again, “Remember, I love you. Remember, Y/N… I love you.”

You squinted and tilted to the side, his words resonating deep within you as another sharp pain spiked within your head. Those four words continued to echo and grew louder and louder with each passing second until all you could hear was ‘remember I love you’ on agonising replay. Your eyes squeezed closed as you silently begged for it to stop, but as quick as it came, like a rubber-band pulled too far - you snapped.

“Stiles!”

----------

The sound of your breathless panting bounced off every surface of your bedroom, your body now lifted into a completely upright position, your handheld over the hammering of your racing heart. The cool draft entering from your open bedroom window made you shiver as the chilled air came in contact with the salty droplets of sweat staining your clothing and decorating the exposed skin. You dared to look beside you and notice that you were alone in your bed and that you definitely weren’t sleeping on blue plaid sheets. If your knowledge on the Supernatural didn’t exist, then you would consider this an awful case of Nightmares - but you knew better, unfortunately. This was because of the Ghost Riders. This was you finally remembering him. Stiles. Your eyes widened substantially with haste as you reached for your phone, immediately pulling out the charging cord and tapping on Scott’s caller I.D. Your legs swung over the edge of your bed and began to make nervous shaky movements, rocking with anticipation. It nearly rang out before you heard a gruff voice grumble into the receiver, evident sleepiness coaxing his inaudible words. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Scott.” You said sternly, hoping that he would gain more consciousness. “Scott, this is important… Scott, wake the hell up!”

You heard stirring on the opposite end of the line. “I’m up, I’m awake, what?! Y/N, what’s wrong?” He replied, now sounding all kinds of worried.

“I remember him… Stiles, I remember him.” You spoke slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the string of events that led you to this conversation with one of your best friends. You held your bottom lip between your teeth as your spare hand combed through your hair, tugging nervously through the ends. You and your friends had spent weeks trying to put a name to the boy that none of you seemed to know of - a repercussion of the Ghost Rider’s hunt. Slowly, the puzzle pieces began to slide together, but within your still quaking hands, you held the ultimate answer. You cleared your throat, “Scott? You still there?”

Rustling was all that you could hear before a brief loud response from Scott provoked you to pull the phone back, “Yeah, I’m just getting dressed. I think… I think I remember him too, kinda. The night I got bit in the Preserve, I think he was there with me. It was his idea to go there. I remember Sheriff saying his name when I hid behind that log.” You could have sworn he dropped the phone next as a loud clang caused you to pull away again, Scott’s whispered voice now cursing the closer he seemed to get to it. “I’ll be there in five.”

“Scott, wait…” Your voice jarred, quick to slip out before he could hang up. The soft background noise alerted you that he was waiting for you to continue, “I think it’s more than just remembering him. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

Scott sighed, “Then we better get him back as soon as possible”.

----------

Being able to just see Stiles once more was enough for your mind to start wandering. He was standing on the other side of your friends with that damn bat in tow, eyes boring into yours, face softening before you were suddenly wrapped within his arms. The embrace you two shared was the tipping point for your uncontrolled river of tears - and that’s when you knew that after all of this sneaking around and sex with no strings attached, you were most definitely in love with Stiles Stilinski. You had been sitting with this revelation for a couple of hours now, your body currently perched on the side of his bed with knees pulled to your chest. The lamp behind you cascaded your shadow against the wall and the only sounds you could hear were from the emotional reunion downstairs between father and son. You weren’t able to make out what words were spoken, not that you were purposely listening, but the happy tone and muffled sobs were enough to make you smile at a reconnected relationship. You could only hope that the wants and fears pouring from their hearts only matched the heartfelt desires you had to share with him. Your eyes were trained on the photo frames littering his bedside table, but of course, you were mostly drawn to the one depicting two overly-joyous teenagers. Your legs hung over his arms as you were wrapped around his back, hands joined as they fell over his shoulders. He had a tight grip on you that day, constantly reassuring you that he wouldn’t let you drop. Your smiles were both wide and so immensely genuine - you could only hope that after your confession of true feelings that the two of you would continue with a future that shone as bright and happy as that photograph.

Your thoughts were so deep that you didn’t hear Stiles retreat back up the stairs and close the door behind him. He watched you distinctively as he toed off his shoes and allowed his jacket to slip from his arms, falling by his feet. He didn’t want to speak yet, not whilst he was watching your frame as you sat on his bed, feeling content as he remembered just how much he missed seeing you in his room. The corners of his lips lifted into a smirk as you began to absentmindedly smile at the framed photos, daring to reach out and drag a single fingertip over what he figured to be the capture of the two of you. Stiles finally cleared his throat, his facial features softening as he remained looking at you. His eyes by now were slightly pink and puffy from crying with his father, but hiding his vulnerability from you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

Stiles bit his lip with a raspy voice, “I, uh, said something to you… before they took me. It’s really important that you remember what I said, Y/N.”

Your eyelashes danced against the top of your cheek, head dropping into a slow nod. Of course, you knew what he was talking about; how could you not? The collection of words had been on replay in your mind ever since you began to regain memories of what made Stiles special to you. Never once did you break eye contact with the emotional boy standing on the other side of the room. The moment you were waiting for was getting closer - pouring every ounce of your feelings out in the open - however, as Stiles neared, your stomach swarmed with the flittering of butterflies. The tone of your voice was nearly inaudible as you spoke, head falling into a slight tilt to accompany the small quirk of your lips, “Remember I love you.”

The wide toothy grin that you found so enticing was now present, the corners of his eyes crinkling in pure happiness. Stiles continued to take steps toward his bed until he could reach out to tuck stray hairs behind your ear. The boy cleared his throat, “I need you to know that what I said… what I feel precedes any of this Ghost Rider bullshit. That when I said it, I meant it with every single cell in my body. It's cliche as all hell, but life is too short to not take a chance. Especially with the way we live. So if I'm gonna do this, then I'm gonna have to do it now before it's too late.” Stiles allowed his fingers and knuckles to drag over your cheeks before he cupped them with such fragility, the warm whisky tone of his eyes glistening as they bore into yours. He took a deep breath, still wearing that damn smile, “I love you, Y/N. This isn’t about the sex, nor is it about the sneaking around and the late-night fun. This is about how I truly feel about you. And fuck, had I not been an idiot in the first place and just told you instead of mindlessly getting into bed with you, then you’d know that you had always been special to me. Our whole lives and friendship… it was always meant to be us. Even if it had to happen this way. All that I ask from you is that you can look me in the eye and say you feel the exact same fucking way. That’s all I need. Just say it back… please.”

The universe came crashing around you all at once - you felt like every lost emotion or declaration of love finally caught up with you, colliding into a flashing display of serendipity, and it made you feel so goddamn good. It was as if you could finally take a deep breath of fresh air and breathe, that all of the birds were singing again and the sun had the strength to shine through the grey clouds that dulled your most recent days. Stiles made you feel at peace. You decided to not hold back the gathering tears that threatened to spill over your lashes, embracing the way he made you feel such emotion. Hands of your own slid up his arms and settled over the hold he still had on your cheeks, making you beam brightly at him as his thumbs dragged over your cheekbone. You could tell by the soft contortion of his features that he understood your reciprocation, but the flicking of his eyes between your lips and your own gaze only indicated that he still needed to hear those words before any further move was made.

You absentmindedly licked your trembling lips, a small giggle escaping you when his thumb brushed over their plumpness to stop their shaky movements. You carefully kissed the thumb, sighing in content, “I love you, Stiles Stilinski. I will always love you.”

Stiles moved quickly as you were tugged against him, chests meeting as part of a soft embrace. The close proximity that you were oh-so used to felt different for once - this wasn’t just lust brewing between you both, but something so much more emotional, much more pure and true. Stiles’ upturned nose brushed over yours, nudging it with utter delicacy as pursed lips chased your supple pair. You were still holding your hands over his as you squeezed, an indication for him to finally make his move and prove just how much he loves you. Stiles closed the gap between you both with a gentle press of his lips, relishing in the warmth of your sweet flavor, just long enough for him to inhale your breath. He didn’t want to rush like he usually would, choosing to take his time so that he could remember the way you blossomed under his touch and taste like a flower entering Spring. Your hands fell to his shoulders before slipping over them, gathering at his back as they hung in bliss. It was you who made the next move as you pushed your tongue against his clenched teeth to roughen the kiss, the pent-up feelings of losing Stiles and gaining him back now poured into every swerve your tongue made against his. It was electric when your heads turned to better the angle; only proven by the deep groan that pushed through Stiles’ mouth, allowing you to swallow his satisfaction and growing libido.

He wrapped an arm around your waist before expertly lifting you from your standing position, his body closing over yours as he laid you down on his bed. Never once did he break the union between your lips until he felt your fingertips dance along his abdomen, desperation evident when they tangled in the hem of his t-shirt. He chuckled against your lips as he pulled back, his eyes glistening at the whine you made when his warmth temporarily left you. Stiles was soon to replace your sweet taste with his bottom teeth when he knelt back, his body sitting up straight with an arm thrown behind his back. Slowly, he tugged at the back collar of his shirt, the material thrown haphazardly across the room. It was as if second nature when your nails immediately scraped gently down his exposed chest, dragging through the prominent strips of dark chest hair and trail leading down into his jeans. Stiles shuddered from the contact, but couldn’t keep his ever-growing smile of admiration away from between his cheeks.

Permission wasn’t needed when your shirt was next, its location unknown when it too was tossed over Stiles’ shoulder with little to no care. He paused to have a look at you as you lay beneath him; your hair splayed across his bedsheets and chest already heaving from the building anticipation. He couldn’t help but think of how beautiful you looked when you were vulnerable to him. Stiles was encased around your frame within mere seconds, a large hand splayed against your cheek as the other fiddled with the button on your jeans, refusing to pull away until it was popped and ready for him to tug down your legs. You lifted your hips for easy access, your knees soon pulled apart by Stiles. He sat between your thighs with a dazed look in his honey eyes, the small tug of a smirk grazing the corners of his mouth. He wanted you to feel good as his hands slid down from your knees and over your thighs, fingers daring to slip under the band of your underwear. The light shudders you released was indication enough that you wanted this as much as he did.

A small moan gathered in your throat when you were hit by cool air, the wet slick of your lower lips now exposed as Stiles removed the thin piece of fabric covering you. He wasn’t shy as a finger dragged down your centre - after the many times you both shared together already, he knew his way around your body, but even then he is still always amazed by how intensely you react to his touch. Your head lulled back in serenity when Stiles rubbed his thumb in circles over your clit, the sensitive nub eliciting more moans and soft words of encouragement to slip past your lips as if you were in a drunken haze. His movements increased in pace when his lengthy pointer finger was pushed inside you, your muscles tightening at the addition of his digit. He thrust it with steady pacing and accompanied it with the pulsating muscle of his tongue flicking at your clit.

Stiles skilfully alternated between sucking and licking, harassing your most sensitive area until his finger curled in order to scrape against that one special spot inside you. You nearly screamed when he found it, a second finger entering to help pay close attention to the rough patch that made you want to cry out in euphoria. You could feel his lips pull up into a smile when you sharply groaned at the jubilant sensation of your upcoming climax, your thighs unwillingly squeezing around Stiles’ head, stipulating your need for him to fasten his actions so you can experience that much-awaited bust of fireworks behind your eyes. Curses fell as fingers grasped the sheets beneath you before you suddenly lifted your hips from the mattress and released a nearly pornographic moan from reaching your high. Stiles didn’t stop as he helped you ride out your climactic moment, fingers continuing to thrust but his lips now sucking gently at your hip bones. Your body trembled immensely, and you could’ve sworn that you would feel the afterglow for at least a week. With that thought, you sunk, completely disoriented from the best oral he had ever given you. You could tell from his intensity that he definitely meant it when he confessed that he was in love.

Stiles couldn’t help the cocky smile he provided or the raspy chuckle, his tongue casually darting out to lick away the residue of your taste gathered on his lips. He managed to catch eye contact as you willingly looked over to him, “You good? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cum that hard before.” He mused, his ego now boosted with a quirk of his eyebrow pointed toward you. Stiles bit down on his bottom lip and tugged at it with a satisfying growl, his body lowering over yours once again until he was able to nip at your exposed left shoulder.

“You been holding out on me then, Stilinski?” You retorted, remaining breathless when his calloused fingers began to pull down your bra strap, swollen and warm lips dragging down your arm. He sounded a genuine laugh when he repeated his gentle movements on the other side. You tipped his head back with a single finger, drunken and affectionate caramel eyes ogling back at you when your fingers unclasped the last layer of material covering your chest, your bra thrown across Stiles’ bedroom. Stiles cursed under his breath, his following moan doused with erotic tones as he took an exposed peak in between his lips. Knowing that you were completely naked under his writing form coursed fire in his veins. It was involuntary when he began to slowly grind his clothed length along the inside of your thigh, the friction from his jeans leaving behind a red heated mark on your skin.

Stiles elegantly rotated between your breasts, his hand cupping and tweaking at the side without his tongue’s attention. By now, your body was squirming with pleasure, and you surely could feel the urgency of Stiles’ eager member twitch through the rough denim fabric. You reached down to tug at the band of his jeans, signaling to Stiles that you wanted more. He pulled back to sport his even puffier lips, their soft complexion making the boy look so goddamn innocent - of course, in reality, you knew just what those deadly lips could do. He positioned himself back on his knees before stepping away from his bed, maintaining sensual eye contact as he undid and removed his pants. The moment the denim was pulled past his thighs, he released a noise of utter satisfaction, his member freed from its toughest confinement. Your eyes were curious when they glanced down to his groin, your breath hitching at the evident wet patch caused by yearning precum. You found happiness in knowing that you helped do that to him.

He made it painfully obvious that he was checking out your heaving, desperate body as he reached to his bedside table, his hand fiddling aimlessly around the drawer until he pulled out a crinkling foil packet. The only rule Stiles ever had during sex was that he wanted to keep it safe - something about how he could barely look after his eighteen-year-old self, so how would he look after a baby? His willingness to protect you both always made you smile without fault. He carefully slid the corner of the packet between his teeth in order to pull down his trunks; Stiles’ shoulders deflated with bliss when he was finally free and exposed to you. His dick wasn’t too large, but the perfect size to satisfy you over and over again. Like his arms, he had veins running along the girth, a prominent one up the underside that always made him weak to the touch. It wouldn’t be completely outlandish to even suggest that it was his sexual Achilles heel - and your greatest weapon to get just what you wanted.

You were broken from your mouth-watering stare as the sound of ripping foil caught your attention. Stiles’ inflamed and sensitive tip was soon spread with his precum before he jerked himself a few times, the condom in his other hand then rolling down his length with expertise. Salacious groans pushed past his lips when he touched himself, preparing his body to gratify yours. His eyes had squeezed shut from the attention he gave himself, only to see your finger beckoning him closer when he returned his focus to you. Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, launching himself across the bedding until his hands lay flat beside your head and his nose nuzzled against yours. Your face scrunched up out of reflex and you giggled sweetly at his affectionate action. With his forehead dropped and pressing to yours, the boy took a deep contented breath, his tone settled to a whisper, “I love you, so much. I’m never gonna stop saying it. You’re everything to me, you are my everything. I truly, madly, deeply love you.”

He ignited a fire within you - one that would burn for as long as he remains by your side to offer you a promise of forever love. It was seen in the way you cupped his cheeks and left a fiery path where your fingertips danced, and how you lent up into the boy and left him with a hot union of your lips as you slid your tongue against his. Everything about him left you heated; and you never wanted to cool down. As you pulled back from his lips, still brushing over his with the slightest of grazes, you smiled. Your nose copied his earlier action as you nuzzled Stiles, even matching his quiet tone, “I love you too, and I will for as long as I live and breathe, Stiles. You’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

It was the confirmation he needed to position himself against your still dripping entrance, the tip dragging helplessly over your sensitive bundle and causing small tremors of your body in its wake. Stiles gave you a small nod before one of his hands linked with yours, still sitting beside your head, and the other helping to guide his dick into your awaiting core. You firmly squeezed his fingers, Stiles reciprocating the ferocity as he pushed through the tightness of your walls, carnal sounds of mild pain and pleasure harmonizing between you both until he was completely bottomed out. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath he took, taking his time to allow you both to adjust to the feeling of each other. You could feel the rapid beating of his heart thump against your own chest, provoking you to place your spare hand over the beating muscle as a silent way to reassure him - of what, you weren’t too sure, but he instantly responded with a kiss to your forehead and smiling lips pressed to your hairline. You were ready for him to continue, your voice cracking in your throat from the feeling of his length filling you, “Move, Stiles.” You signaled, hips already reaching for his until he managed a mild chuckle, an obscene playful remark about you being ‘needy’ muttered under his breath.

All it took was a couple of thrusts for you to throw your head back, Stiles attempting to tease you by pulling out all the way and slamming himself back into you with the utmost passion and desire to make you feel good. You easily fell victim to his game and whined his name constantly between mumbles of curse words and explicit groans. He repositioned himself back on his knees, hands sliding down your chest and over your breasts at a painfully slow pace before settling on your hips. He lifted them to allow for a new angle and thrust mercilessly into you. Stiles didn’t hold back - he didn’t want to, frankly, every emotion that built up within him since he was taken was now portrayed in the strong feelings he felt for you. He has had sex with you before, multiple times, but this moment… this was special, and he wanted you to know just how serious and dedicated he was to loving you properly. Between his panting, Stiles managed to offer you words of encouragement, proud to tell you that you were the epitome of beauty and that you felt so amazing around his pulsating member. By now, you could feel a pull in your lower abdomen and tears prick at your eyes - silent alerts that you were close once again to climatic euphoria.

With shaky arms you pushed yourself from the mattress and secured them around his neck, chests now flushed once more and your legs straddling Stiles’ lap. He pushed out an animalistic growl that had settled in his throat, his own arms wrapped around your frame and holding you against him for dear life, “Fuck, baby…” His voice was husky, reveling in the new position that allowed him to reach that special spot within you for the second time tonight. You were helpless as your forehead dropped to his shoulder, the beaded sweat layering his skin leaving spots of warmth against your own. You tried to keep up his pace by meeting his hips, only to be briefly distracted by the sweet nothings he continuously poured into your ears. If you could ever describe the word perfect, it would be this moment - entangled with the boy you love, your body ignited by passion and pleasure, and his calming sweet words echoing in your ears.

Your small hands laid flat against Stiles’ chest before you pushed him back, his body now lying on the bed, head just missing the edge whilst your movements take control to finish you both off. He flashed a large grin as he peered up to you, the corners of his eyes crinkled in pure happiness and admiration. He loved how you knew his favorite position, even more so when you show your small moments of dominance. Your hands remained pressed against the heaving of his chest as you bounded your hips, eyes rolling back into your head with a slightly agape mouth. You were close to the finish line; the band in your abdomen continuously pulling, waiting for the final snap. You could tell that Stiles was close too as his thrusts became slightly sloppy, however, it only made him pick up the pace even more. You circled your hips, gyrating at every possible angle as you sunk up and down on his dick, a loud moan echoing off the walls - one that if the Sheriff had still remained downstairs, he would definitely hear it.

The tears that had settled on your lash line finally spilled over, only a couple of drops rolling down your cheeks. Stiles reached up and gathered them on his thumbs, his hoarse tone cooing at your emotional build-up, “You’re doing so good, baby, so good. Nearly there.”

“I’m so close.”

“I know, sweetheart, just let go.” Stiles whispered, pulling himself forward to capture your lips within his own. You sucked the breath out of him as you finally reached your release, your body trembling in Stiles’ arms, erupting into metaphorical fireworks. Stars flashed behind your blacked-out eyes and you had never felt so goddamn loved in your entire life. You tried to maintain bounces that were easily taken over by Stiles’ thrusts, helping you ride out your high as he too was nearing his edge of glory. You mindlessly said that you loved him, over and over again into his ear until he filled the rubber pocket around his well-worked girth. Open mouth pants and heavy breathing flashed over your sweaty shoulder, soon to be replaced by sloppy wet kisses. You allowed your hands to rub delicately at his back to calm him down, and he thanked you quietly with murmurs against your skin.

“Ya know…” Stiles began, his upturned nose tracing your collarbone, “As fucking cheesy as it sounds, now I know why they call it making love, cause that was… that was somethin’ else entirely.”

With a nodded head, you lifted his chin with your finger to show him just how brightly you were beaming, the afterglow making him see you in such an angelic light. “It was absolutely something else, it was deadset fucking amazing. Like, seriously, Stiles, where have you been hiding that?” Your question was rhetorical as you lent down to him, placing a chaste peck to the corner of his mouth where his lips met, but he still answered anyway.

“It was just waiting for the right time, I s’pose.” His answer was followed by a kiss of his own, settling on the tip of your nose before pressing to your forehead and each of your cheeks. With hooded eyes he pulled back, an expression of endearment contorting his smile. Stiles had finally found his peace, even amongst the dangers and chaos of the supernatural world. He had someone to ground him and always pull him back from the darkness; he had something worth fighting for, and you had a love that could never leave you - no matter how hard anybody tried to take it away from you.

Can I have 💦☁️🤮 with Dylan. Obsessed with the idea of fake dating and your writing is amazing

send me EMOJI PROMPTS for a ’blurb time’ blurb -

[ 💦 ] : sleeping together for the first time.

[ ☁️ ] : enemies to lovers.

[ 🤮 ] : fake dating.

FAKE NEWS [part 2 is here]

From the outside, your union with Dylan represented all contributing factors of a loving devoted relationship; public displays of affection paired with the joyous smiles of infatuation, longing gazes that covered from head to toe, and warm tender touches that danced wherever they could reach. A closed door spoke differently, however, when your backs were turned to the public eye and the close proximity you once shared instantly reverting to hateful strangers sleeping on different sides of the house. What nobody knew was that everything that seemed perfect about you and Dylan was utterly and completely fake.

It was meant to be good publicity for your further developing images in the Hollywood spotlight; your joint publicist deciding that it was best for your blossoming careers, and to raise more exposure for the new film you shared together. Overall, the idea was writhing with stupidity. To make all matters worse, you couldn't even remember why you and Dylan didn't get along; but it drove a knife through the centre of your phony relationship and only presented tense situations and hateful glares among yourselves. It would get to the point where you could go hours dodging each other around the house, words unspoken and eyes focused on whatever was preoccupying your hands at that moment. It was difficult to juggle your emotions, but neither of you made the move to fix whatever was broken between you both.

This is what led to Dylan perched on the edge of your shared couch, his eyes crinkling in confusion and frustration as they skimmed over ridiculous tabloid articles concerning the two of you. The brutal features from wannabe journalists and tryhard paparazzi were getting worse as each day dragged on, prompting the man to drag his large hard down his face, groaning loudly as he stood from his position and trudged his way toward your bedroom. His deep whisky hues remained oddly fascinated by the spreading lies coursing the internet - so much, that he ignored all common courtesy as he immediately opened your closed door with his eyes still glaring down at his phone. "You won't believe the bullshit that they're saying about us-" He started, brows knotted deeply and teeth gritted before he looked up to you. It was sudden when he froze, Dylan's words swallowed roughly by what he saw.

"Dylan, what the fuck are you doing? Get out!" You squealed, your body only clad in your hugging pair of underwear and bra before you rummaged for something to wrap around your exposed frame. His jaw still hung, all skills pertaining to how to speak now gone and replaced by small choked noises. With rolled eyes, you carefully walked toward him, your hand reaching out to grasp at his phone and tug it away from his suspended movements. "This better be good, otherwise I'm going to fucking kill you." You hissed, absentmindedly tugging the sheet around you tighter. You reluctantly scrolled through the variety of gossip featurettes; they varied from 'secret proposals' to 'Dylan at his last straw', even one detailing how you were both planning on getting matching tattoos, which was very much news to you. What stood out the most, however, got you seething almost instantly. You gasped loudly, "I'm WHAT? I am in no fucking way pregant. What the actual fucking fuck is this? Where do they get this from?!"

The shrieking tone of your exasperated voice broke Dylan from his daze, the mental image of your body still burnt in his mind but temporarily pushed aside. He shuffled to the side, head peering over your shoulder as he too read the article in disgust. "We can't do this shit anymore, seriously. It's screwing with our heads and our lives, and I'm so goddamn over it." Dylan's voice was deep, representing a low growl when his hands tugged harshly at the roots of his hair. You felt like puppets, dolls, playthings where you couldn't even direct the story of your own life. It was exhausting. "The sooner I can get out of this stupid house and away from whatever this-" He gestured between you both, his fingers lengthy as they pointed back and forth, "-is, the better."

"Oh, so you're just that desperate to get away from me?" You scoffed, your fractured relationship causing immediate misconception of his choice of wording. Your head fell into a soft shake as you pulled yourself away from Dylan, arms hugging yourself out of makeshift comfort. Dylan's fingers pinched the bridge of his nose before his eyes squeezed shut, the inklings of a stress headache dancing behind his eyes. That's not what he meant, but you were just as stubborn as he was, which is what made him know that you most certainly wouldn't listen to reasoning. A defeated sigh dropped from his lips as his other hand reached out for your arm, fingers gently wrapping around the bend of your elbow. Dylan ignored your quiet protests before pulling you back to him, your body twisting until you were both standing chest to chest.

"I hate the idea of us fake dating, that's what I want to get away from." The usual amber warmth of his eyes grew dark in time with the increase of his heart rate, the fast pattern ricocheting against you. It was a very rare occasion for you to see Dylan with this level of seriousness that prompted you to fall silent, your own gaze widening as you looked up to the taller man. He clenched his jaw and bit at his bottom lip, gnawing at it from the inside before allowing both of his hands to sit over the structure of your shoulders. Dylan ducked down until he was at your eye level and sighed deeply, "I don't hate you either. Not as much as we're both making it out to be. You can be a pain in my ass, don't get me wrong, and you piss me off to no wit's end, but I don't hate you. Honestly, there's no one else that I'd rather go through all this shit with." Lips quirked upward when a small chuckle was released, his head once more falling into a soft shake. You wanted to return the sentiment but the way his eyes shamelessly flickered between your lips and eyes made you think otherwise.

"Well..." You started, your tongue poking out briefly to wet your lips, feet pushing you up onto the ends of your toes until you matched his height. A breathless whisper is what came next, the grip on your sheet becoming lost as you instead entangled your arms around Dylan's neck, "Promise not to hate me for this, then." You didn't leave any time for contemplation before your lips moulded against his, drawing the man into you until his large hands dragged down the side of your body, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. They settled on your hips and you could feel the flexing of his fingers against your bare skin, making you shiver from growing anticipation. He kissed you back feverishly as he tilted his head and brushed the point of his nose against your cheek. You were desperate for air; inhaling every last offering of his breath after he prodded open your lips further with his tongue. You felt weightless - whether it was from your upcoming lack of oxygen or just the feeling he gave you, you weren't too sure, but it felt amazing regardless.

You only pulled back out of desperation when your forehead dropped to his, ragged panting between you both managing to breathe the silence of the room. It took you a moment to realise that your fingers were now threaded through his hair, the nails lightly scratching at Dylan's scalp and prompting gentle moans to sound into your ears. You could feel him stumbling, but unaware that the tightness of his jeans had increased, blood rushing to where it needed to be when he took another quick glance at your lack of clothing. He groaned internally. Dylan cleared his throat as he nuzzled his nose against yours, dragging the upturned tip once again over your cheek and settling under your ear, "I think we have a problem because I'm very turned on right now and I don't really want to stop kissing you. Or touching you."

You gasped lightly, the thought of his hands and lips travelling over every exposed inch of skin only making you shudder. Whatever form of 'hatred' that surrounded you both for so long was easily forgotten, possibly from the long-awaited admittance of emotions that had remained hidden for far too long. You rocked your head up and down, your swollen lips placing a small kiss along his predominant jawline, "Then touch me, and kiss me. And don't stop until I am screaming out your goddamn name."

Dylan's fingers danced along your shoulder blades and walked down the line of your spine until they reached the restriction of your bra. He kissed your shoulder once, and then another until he managed to unclasp the metal hooks. Before continuing, the man tilted his head back and caught your reciprocated drunk daze, the softness etched across your facial features leaving him utterly mesmerised. "You'll be screaming out more than that when I'm done with you, sweetheart."

" There's no way i can cover these marks " with Mitch?

SEND ME A PROMPT FOR MY 500 SLEEPOVER!

Warning: mentions of sexual activity, swearing galore

"THERE'S NO WAY I CAN COVER THESE MARKS."

You shamelessly bit down on your bottom lip, eyes trained on the sinewy form at the foot of your bed as his muscles flexed under even the smallest of movements. You could see through the minimal space of which he didn't cover the mirror, that his eyes were squinted in concentration and brows furrowed as he played inspector. A soft giggle fell from your lips as he was referring to the trail of purple splotches adorning his neck, littering over his collarbone and eventually down to his chest. They weren't hard to miss - the colour was vibrant and definitely semi-permanent for a while.

"You didn't seem to be complaining when you had your dick in me." A purr settled in your throat, Mitch peering behind him through the reflective surface just as you rolled slightly over the crisp white sheets. His whiskey hues followed the thin material only just barely covering your torso and thighs, knowing exactly what he'd find if it happened to slip from your naked body. The image made him moan before he swallowed hard, his head slightly shaking as he tried to rid the beautiful picture you'd paint him every time you both were intimate. He had to leave for work, he couldn't be late again - Irene threatening to have his head on a stick if he dared show up outside of their agreed-upon time.

You could see his struggle, prompting you to laugh quietly under your breath before pushing yourself up into a more seated position, hands quick to grasp the sheet and drag it up to cover your exposed front. "I could put some makeup on it? Works wonders for me." Which it often did - your body usually the one marked and decorated with Mitch's insignia. You believed that he enjoyed it more than you, which wouldn't be an understatement if he could only see the look of pride he sported when he admired his pleasureful work. That, and the symphony of moans that he conducted from you with just his mouth.

Mitch instantly scowled, his brows furrowing, "You're not touching me with that shit. It looks fantastic on you, let's leave it that way."

His answer prompted a pout to playfully sit on your lips, causing the man in front of you to roll his eyes. You knew how to get him going. "Don't look at me like that, not with those dumb puppy dog-eyes..." The man sighed, a brief head shake and disbelieving smirk gracing his facial features. He chuckled, knees already breaching the edge of your bed, "Look what you're making me do, baby, now I have to come over there and kiss that frown away, and you're the one that's getting blamed when Irene loses her fucking head."

Mitch moved quickly; his large hands already capturing your waist as he held you through the sheet, lips immediately encasing your own. You fell backward with a gentle thump as Mitch's body completely covered your smaller frame, your arms snaking around his neck to pull him closer to you. His tongue swept along your bottom lip, a dance of its own, until you eventually opened for him. It was as if he was trying to breathe in all that you were - an attempt to graciously accept the love that you so willingly provided him. The intoxication he felt when he was drawn in by your tender touch and sweet taste would always drive him to utter oblivion, a drunken daze that required no alcohol. He knew that the moment he crossed that bed to join your lips again, that it'd take him a hell of a lot to pull him back out.

It was you who pulled back first, needing a moment to catch your breath as your fingers tangled in the slightly long locks of your boyfriend. Mitch, however, didn't stop. He didn't want to. His mouth dragging along your jawline and down your neck, suctioning around particular pressure points that he knew made your legs shake. A throaty groan escaped you and the man couldn't help the smirk that pressed predominately against your skin. Your voice was strangled, a soft choke escaping with your words, "Is this your way of getting pay back? By making us hickey twins?" You sounded dubious, but the nod and muffled sound of agreement he breathed against your neck solidified your beliefs. "You're enjoying this way too much."

The euphoric feeling that vibed through your bedroom was halted when Mitch's phone began to buzz, the vibrations creating a loud and intrusive pattern against the nightstand. He groaned, shoulders slumping before throwing his arm out to the side to bring the device to his ear.

"I'm busy."

He grunted before tossing it to the side, screen now laying flat on the mattress. His hand returned to your body in order to pull the sheet down, his tongue not shy as it followed the material, trailing between your breasts... until the phone rang, again.

"Occupied."

He spoke sternly into the receiver once he picked it up again, the phone thrown across the bed for the second time this morning. You were finding amusement in the situation, wanting to file a small laugh but the second his teeth pulled at one of your exposed nipples, your body returned to its state of anticipation and lust. Your head lulled back as a hand threaded through his hair, softly tugging along with the moans gathering in your throat. The sensations you felt were mesmerizing, until you suddenly jumped, the generic ring tone calling through once more.

Mitch growled, reaching for the device now somehow behind him, "Wrong fucking number."

You stifled a chuckle, "Go. Stan's just gonna keep calling. He'll probably come kick the damn door down and drag you out by your ear if you hang up on him again."

The man deflated, not wanting to admit the accuracy of your statement, especially knowing how Stan likes to deal with things in the unconventional kind of way. He looked into your eyes, their brightness making him smile, "If I have to."

---------

"What the fuck is that?" The older man grumbled, eyes trained on Mitch as he slid into the passenger side of Stan's beaten-up truck. He started mostly at the litter of bruises rising above the neckline of Mitch's black t-shirt, before focusing back on a pair of mischievous amber eyes.

"They're hickeys, Stan. You actually need somebody interested in fucking you to be able to get some of your own." Mitch retorted, his usual level of attitude still managing to push at Stan's buttons, regardless of how used he is to it by now. Mitch smirked, "Y/N's a biter." He declared, voice smug and proud before showing off a wink.

Stan looked utterly disgusted, "Yeah, you don't fucking say."

💀 with stiles pls!

send me an emoji and dylan character for a headcanon ~

💀 : An injury headcanon

Stiles was incredibly accident-prone. Whether it was supernatural bound or a simple trip up the stairs, the boy would always be on your doorstep with a sheepish grin that held all of the boyish glee he could muster up. He never wanted to show you the pain that itched so intensely at his skin and tugged at his muscles - so, he continued to smile, even when blood pooled by his feet. One time, in particular, you dragged him profusely into the bathroom the moment you saw red trickles drip from the cut in his hairline. Your voice was urgent, but Stiles remained calm - he always remained calm. It wasn't until your hand began to tremble as it pressed to his moistened red wound that Stiles' nonchalant facade began to fall. He never wanted to worry you, but he didn't trust anyone more to look after his scratched-up body. "What if you don't come back to me next time, Stiles?" It wasn't until he realised that his strange form of protection from his pain, was only the cause of your incredulous hurting. His eyes, finally, pricking with tears, "Nothing will keep me away from you."

When Stiles and You Watch Porn.... || Headcanon

Pairing : Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings : sexual language, swearing, pornography mentions, 18+ content

Notes : please take note that there's no actual sex in this, but it is pretty mild altogether

you read too many buzzfeed articles

so much that it slowly begins to dictate your life

that's what leads you to you staring at your phone with a quizzed expression whilst stiles flicks through your History textbook

"are you even paying attention?" your boyfriend would ask you

all you could muster was a hum

you were clearly preoccupied

and stiles' curiosity always got the best of him

he asked what you were looking at, questioning a second time to see if it's more important than your test tomorrow

and all you could reply with nonchalantly was "do you watch a lot of porn?"

fair to say, your boyfriend was taken aback

like

waaay aback

he instantly grew red cheeks and became flustered

you knew that he watched it

look at him - stiles screams the type of person to watch porn

and frankly, you've watched some too

but you've never discussed it together before

he stuttered, and choked on his words, and nearly passed out on top of his speechlessness

stiles fumbled as his long giraffe legs carried him to his bed where you laid

you didn't once look up at him, too enthralled by this stupid article

stiles gulped "wh-why do you ask?"

you just licked your lips before pursing them

"says here that watching porn together can be good for sex, you know, help you get hornier and get off easier"

now stiles was more curious, mixed with a hell amount of confusion

he crawled along your bed until he was sitting next to you

your backs pressed to his headboard, eyes glued on your screen

you hissed, "ooh, also says it can be awkward as fuck. some couples can't even look each other in the eye after five minutes of watching hardcore porn"

stiles squinted his eyes as he read the article himself, slowly understanding second-handedly why you were fascinated

the experiences of these couples, they were... interesting

"i mean, it doesn't have to be hardcore though, right?" he piped up

you turned to him, eyebrow raised, surprised he wanted to take part in your readings

"i mean... no, it could be any porn. passionate, softcore, I don't know."

stiles bit his bottom lip, carefully taking your phone from you

he murmured, "so... if we were to watch porn together, for example..."

he flicked through the article, mentally tossing up the pros and cons

"-and you know, see how it goes..."

"stiles are you asking me to watch porn with you?"

his eyebrows both jumped upwards, head tilting to the side as he watched you, "i-if you.. if you want.. to.."

it would be approximately three minutes and twenty-four seconds later when you both were back sitting on his bed

hearts racing after you both were running around to make sure the coast was clear and doors were effectively locked

the most embarrassing part about this 'experiment' would be getting walked in on - especially by sheriff

for comfort reasons you perched between his legs

your back pressed to his chest

his laptop sat neatly on your knees

in all honesty, you were quite comfortable where you were, especially when stiles positioned himself a little upright

with his arms wrapped around your waist

holding you against him

head sitting lightly on your shoulder

you couldn't help but turn slightly to face him and press a tender kiss to the tip of his nose

his lips quirked into a smile and you drew a deep breath

"you ready?" your voice was wavering, still unsure

stiles' wasn't any better, "there's no harm in just... giving it a go... even for five minutes"

your lips puffed out, knotting from indecisiveness

he gave you a gentle squeeze, though

a reassuring squeeze

"it's just watching sex, baby" he said

and you smiled widely from his efforts

you eventually hit play on the first video you both agreed on

it was weird watching sex with someone next to you

it felt wrong, like you were being caught out

you thought that it could possibly turn your relationship upside down

but you two ended up critiquing the video more than gaining a high libido from it

every now and then you two would hum, or make noises of acknowledgement

stiles would inch closer to the screen with squinted eyes

"how the fuck are they even doing that?"

and you would shake your head "god knows but there's no way in hell i'm flexible enough to try it... i mean, do you see how far back her leg goes???"

when another video played over your screen, your eyes widened, a low whistle blowing through your lips

"he looks likes he's going to fucking break her in half!"

"yeah, babe, that's why it's called hard-core porn" he would reply, still studying each video

like

you both would sit there for at least an hour

god knows how many videos you went though, but

you definitely didn't get any more aroused than you usually would staring at each other naked

stiles closed the laptop, clicking his tongue

"okay, what i've learnt from this experience is that i'm perfectly satisfied with the way we have sex..."

"exactly, we make each other orgasm, usually more than once, and it feels fucking good and you're still extremely sexy doing it"

stiles nodding in agreement to what you said

and he'd press gentle kisses to your shoulder, making you smile

even the smallest of affection covers you in bliss

he would pull away suddenly and groan in frustration, though

"i still don't understand how that italian couple could even move in that way? like that shit is inhuman. nobody is supposed to be able to position themselves like that, i'm sorry"

you'd sigh loudly and turn in his lap, your legs on either side of his

and just slowly pushing him back until he was slaying among his pillows

stiles looking up at you as if you were the sun and the stars and the moon

and you leaning down to kiss him so softly, lips moulding against his

the added depth you demanded through your kiss promoting you to swallow stiles hearty moan

pulling away with his bottom lip sliding out from between your own

"how about we stop thinking about what the professional pornstars did and start to focus on we can do... right now, with each other... i can make you feel amazing stiles"

he would eagerly continue to nod in agreement

his fingers already pulling at the hem of your tshirt

you would beam down to him with so much love

"and maybe i'll even let you try that thing you saw, you know, the one with the tongue... the one that made your dick grow hard in like a second flat"

his speechless expression made you bite the inside of your cheek

it was sudden, but

stiles flipped you both over, his body now above yours

his lips barely grazing just under your earlobe

it made you shiver with excitement

his voice hoarse "sweetheart, you know as well as me that the second we start, i'm not planning on stopping, especially if the tongue thing is involved... seriously, fuck"

"then show me what you got big boy"