With Mitch Pls??

😳 with Mitch pls??

send me an emoji and dylan character for a headcanon ~

😳 : A confessing headcanon

Confessing his love for you, let alone any grandeur of emotion, was difficult for Mitch. His heart had already been broken - the fragments creating wounds that years of self-discovery eventually began to heal. That you began to heal. Mitch always appeared to only show stoicism or anger, but his roots delved much further down, and you were the lucky chosen to see who Mitch Rapp truly was. He had you perched on the edge of his bed as boot-cladded feet paced the room. Fingers dragged anxiously through his long hair and all that Mitch could muster was incoherent mumbles to encourage himself. It was your soft, gentle smile and calming voice that coaxed him to finally stop, his body facing you. Mitch's hands were wringing nervously as he took a deep breath. "Last time I felt this way about someone, my world ended." You tried not to show too much sympathy, not needed him to think you were taking pity on the poor man. Instead, you stood and stepped forward, clasping his hands between yours and squeezing them with only little pressure. "Just tell me how you feel." Mitch inhaled. His eyes closed as he counted down from ten in his mind, gathering himself. He finally smiled as he looked at you, confessing the emotion that made his body warm. "I love you."

23 with Mitch!!

send me a character and a prompt for a scene blurb ~ (1/10)

SOOTHE : for one muse to calm the other during a panic attack.

He warned you that it could happen; the sudden jumps during the night, the strangled screams pulling from his throat, the sheen of sweat that drenched his skin. It’d been years since the nightmares refused to leave his darkened mind - grasping at any slither of sanity that he had left. The man would dream of softened sand and how it so quickly was stained red, ricochets of bullets and agonising screams creating notes of heart-wrenching symphonies. He witnessed a massacre and it was ruling his life - even after the miniscule trials of therapies and retribution gained from his CIA pursuits, he still couldn’t forget. Mitch Rapp would never forget. It didn’t make it easier on him when he started seeing your body laying lifeless in his arms and he couldn’t do anything to bring you back to him.

Your heart bounded in your chest as you were pulled sharply from your sleep, the man beside you shaking with ragged breaths. You’d never experienced Mitch when he was in this state but you could tell almost immediately that it wasn’t something that he was going to easily get past. As you turned to face him, his hand shot to his side to feel for you, warm clammy handprints encasing your wrist and he managed somewhat of a sigh when he realised you weren’t gone. It wasn’t enough, though, to settle his erratic heartbeat and panicked features.

“Mitch... Mitch, hey, look at me, Mitch... look at me...” You begged, still half asleep as you tried to maneuver yourself in front of the man. You kneed his legs apart through the sheets and settled between them, your hands cupping the scratchy stubble that covered his jaw. Thumbs ran shakily under his eyes, but it was their incapability to focus that nearly brought tears to your own. They were blown wide - the gentle caramel tone that often sparkled in the sunshine was nowhere to be found as black orbs drowned them out. They were wild and unkept and terrified. They were screaming out for help through silent pleas and you were starting to suddenly feel so small. 

Mitch tried to speak but could only voice fractured syllables, his gasps growing in pitch and urgency for air. It was hard for you not to freeze and stare on in shock, but you knew that he needed you. He needed love. Stability. He needed reassurance and promise. And you could give him that and more.

The hand wrapped around your wrist grew tighter and it broke you from your brief reverie, your free hand falling from his cheek and scavenging for his twitching fingers. You brought them to your chest and laid the palm flat over your sternum - breathing in, and out, slowly. You built a rhythm and forced yourself to keep that steady pace. Your eyes bored into his as you shushed the man with careful lullaby tones; humming soft songs under your breath, your body in control and calm.

“Breathe, Mitch. You’re safe. I’m safe.” You pushed, verbal reminders to settle his damaged soul. The gasps were slowing and you nearly screamed out in happiness when you watched his eyes finally focus on you, his pupils shrinking from their anxious size.

Mitch’s hands shook loose from yours and they were brought up to your own cheeks, his protective hold instantly cradling your face as he cooed at your expression, “Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry for me.” He said quietly, hardly a whisper, but the proximity of his body to yours allowed you to hear it as clear as day. His thumbs managed to catch stray tears that you didn’t realise even left your eyes, and their silky paths were soon covered in tender pecks from Mitch’s dry lips. 

He settled his forehead against yours and your arms were hastily thrown behind his neck, pulling the man as close to you as humanly possible. It was sluggish, but his arms slipped behind your frame and squeezed you in a needy embrace, your chests flush against the other and your hips thrown against his own. He was crushing you, but you knew that he was reminding himself that this was real. You were real. 

Mitch took a deep breath, one that shook your frame as he exhaled, before his nose dragged over yours, “You saved me.”

“I-I just helped you breathe.” Your reply was quick, modest. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face because it was surely glowing with rosy blush. 

“Not just now, you saved me... from who I was. You brought love back to my life.” His voice was hoarse, and it prompted an absent-minded rub of your delicate fingers down his spine - of which made him melt instantly against you. “I have my demons but you make ‘em go away. You make me better.” 

It was your turn now to squeeze the man, squashing him against you as much as you could, never wanting to let him go. 

stiles and “street-light”

it’s cheesy! it’s short! it’s off topic! it’s unedited! it was written on tumblr mobile by an idiot who should be doing her irish homework because it’s ten o’clock at night! but i love stiles and i frickin adore kenz so here it is!!!!!!

“You’re so pretty.” He hums, tucking the loose hair behind your ears and cupping your jaw in his calloused hands.

Your cheeks are burning, and your gleaming eyes avert his lovesick gaze as he beams at you. Beneath the flickering orange hue of the street lights, he glows. Truly. So much so that it irritates you a little bit.

Besotted. Enamoured. Infatuated. Beguiled. There’s not a single word in the English language that could convey what you felt for him. So, despite your better judgement, your eyes lock with his twinkling ones, and you grin. Bright and lovestruck.

His warm hands caress the sides of your neck, smoothing up and down the flesh slowly; making you want to melt into one of the tiny puddles littering the cement beneath you. You breathe, unsteady and unsure; and then you say it. “I love you. A lot. So much.”

It’s his turn to smile, and it’s elated and cheery; you want to say it again, you’ll say it at the start of every sentence as long as he keeps looking at you like this.

“She loves me. You love me.”

You pout petulantly, a groan of pure humiliation and displeasure tumbling past your lips. “Forget it. I take it back.”

“No way! You can’t take it back. You’ve told me now, it’s a done deal.” His arm wraps around your shoulders as he walks you back to his jeep, and you curl into his flannel clad torso; linking your fingers through the hand dangling from your shoulder.

For once, it’s quiet. It’s calm. There’s no supernatural creatures trying to murder you (that you know of), no cold cases to crack or trigonometry homework to do. For once, you can breathe. He presses a kiss to your temple, pulling away to open his car door. This takes him a little while, Roscoe isn’t known for being easy to manage. Once the car door is wedged open open and you’re both inside, he speeds off.

You check the time. 10:14. You told your mum you’d be home by eleven. You have time.

“Hey, baby?”

You hum serenely, you love when he calls you that.

“I love you more.”

WAITING GAME | VOID!STILES (18+)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

DAY 2: SQUIRTING

WARNINGS:

Sex Toys, Bondage, Overstimulation, Edging, Spit Play, Begging, Mocking and Squirting.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

SLIGHT BLOODPLAY, DACRYPHILIA, DOM/SUB RELATIONSHIP.

I am not responsible for your media consumption. Please read the warnings. By reading more, you are confirming you are 18+.

you lay cuffed to the metal headboard. legs bound to the poles at the bottom of the bed. worn and panting. you could feel his presence watching you just like your been doing so for hours now. the cuffs clanged as your limbs jumped in overstimulation. you still hadn’t cum yet and your nub was way too sensitive to take much more.

your knuckles had turned white and nail marks pushed into your palms as you felt his fingers push underneath yours, pulling your fingers up and guiding them to clench around the bars. a groan and a gasp could be heard around the room as your eyes darted to the hot sensation of his tongue lock-in up the blood in your palm as he groaned at the taste.

his footsteps eerily low as he moved down your body once again as his wet fingers trailed across your spread thighs. the room was dark anyway, not much to see even without the blindfold he’d slipped over your eyes as soon as you walked into his apartment. you couldn’t hear anything else for a few minutes, not even his breathing, only yours and your heart pounding in your chest from gasping for air.

tears stained upon your flushed cheeks, saliva from where he’d licked them up too. your forehead covered in a light sweat, you wondered if he’d left the room for a moment, giving you a break, maybe even fetching you the water that you’d begged for which he only spat in your mouth at your request. but soon the faint sound of buzzing from that dreadful toy he’d found started up again.

fresh tears lined your eye and your mouth opened only to squeak out a timid beg. “please…” you breathed into hot air. a rough hand held your thigh down again as a dip in the bed became present beneath you as he perched between your legs. a mocking snicker and a repeat or “please” was his only reply as he hummed an old song again.

he dragged the vibrator up from your knee circling it and teasing you again, hearing your whines of pleasure and cries of painful torture. he wanted you soaked. he wanted a puddle beneath you. he didn’t want your cum. he wanted you to squirt. the thing you felt most embarrassed to do. your hole clenched around nothing and you screamed as he finally pressed the tip of the toy against your clit hard.

it was overwhelming already pushing you towards the edge you’d been hoping for the last hour or so. his fingers ghosted of your dripping hole.

“your pussy’s crying out for me, baby. you want my fingers?”

he teased. you couldn’t speak, babbling out nonsense as your head nodded fast. your mind dizzy as he slipped them in. his fingers worked fast, curling upwards as your vision blacked and your body shook. a soundless scream forced its way out of your lungs and his grin grew proud and he turned the toy off pulling out his fingers to rub them on your clit slowly, helping you through your orgasm.

he knew you were okay, you might’ve blacked out for a minute or so, but he could still feel your heart pulsing in your chest. you’d be okay once he’d cleaned you up and gave you some of the water he’d gotten whilst you waited. but you’d finally done it. you squirted and the smug smirk on his face when you’d woken up caused you to smile just a little.

🎃 KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @angelofthetrenchcoats @cvrliie @flowercrowns3438 @heyauntieeee @newgirl2 @stilessbaseballbat

VOID!STILES TAGLIST: @5lutfordylanobrien @bxrbie1 @carrot-shavings @greengarsstuff @hessafeelsfordayss @idylio24 @its-carlerrr @lilygreennn @luhh-snow @midnight-star47 @oh-kurva @ohwowimlonley @queen-eleven @queenofmisc @screambih @steadygoopangelhairdo @taurusvic @whoaskedgabby24 @xo-circe @yktfv18poisonlvy

35 with mitch

send me a character and a prompt for a scene blurb ~ (4/10)

CAUGHT : for one muse to walk in on the other singing / dancing.

Surreal was nothing but understated when it came to knowing that your apartment once again housed two instead of one. Since the moment Mitch Rapp walked through the front door, the ceiling lamps grew a little brighter, the air a little warmer, and your heart a little bigger. It was a story told too many times before - a man sent away to right the wrongs of others, leaving his sweetheart to await his return. Time moved slowly, a reminder that your time without the man you love was breaching indefinite. The phone calls became shorter and and you swore that it only prolonged your need for those overdue kisses and whispers of sweet nothings. Once the six week marker flashed midnight on your alarm clock, your heart wretched, and your tears returned. You just missed him.

But luck had a knack for worming it’s way into moments of utter hopelessness - and fortunately, it always ended the same way... with him returning home to your arms.

It didn’t feel real to see his built frame take up space in the kitchen, nor did it feel real to hear the clanging of dishes being washed in the sink that weren’t from your own two hands - the most mundane activity, drenched in complete domesticity, was enough to get your heart soaring. You quietly lent against the arched door frame, arms crossed lazily over your thumping chest as you watched Mitch with all the adoration you could muster. Eyes focused on the way his shirt sat too snug over his shoulders - knowing Mitch, he put it in the dryer with no sense of how to work one, or maybe his frame just grew that little more taut since he’d been gone. Regardless, you couldn’t tear your gaze away and you didn’t want to ever again if it meant that Mitch Rapp never left your side.

You travelled down the expanse of his back, eyeing the way his muscles moved with such fluidity beneath the black fabric, before your focus was caught rather quickly by the shake and gyrate of his hips. It made you giggle under your breath, not wanting to alert of your presence just yet as you admired the side of Mitch Rapp that hardly anybody got to see - one filled with carelessness, joy and rhythm. 

You could see how they moved faster with the growing hum of his voice, a tune licking at his tongue as it slowly began to echo throughout the space. It was a tune you knew well - Mitch always listened to it, sang it, even built the limited skill set when away from the field to learn the basic chords on the guitar. It was a song that made you smile, and made him revell in the memories of his mother. Her soothing tone would lull him to sleep as a child, and he inherited it so beautifully when the words were sung into your hair and his arms secured tightly around your body.

He had switched out his dish cloth for a towel as hands dried your dinner plates with gentle movements, his voice growing louder as melody drifted toward you, “You say it best...hmm hmm hmm... when you say nothin’ at all.” 

You were lost. Entranced. Every small detail about this man is what made you adore him more and more with each passing second you spent with him. But it also made you miss his presence near tenfold when he was gone. A bittersweet concoction when you find yourself utterly and completely in love with another person.

It wasn’t meant to be so startling as you quietly stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed firmly against his back. Mitch only tensed for a mere half second from the additional body heat you provided, but it dissipated quickly, one of his hands reaching down to rub tenderly at your enclasped pair over his lower stomach. Your nose nuzzled into him, a humm eliciting now from within your throat.

“You have a lovely voice when you sing.” You said, Mitch’s arms erupting in goosebumps due to the dancing of your warm breath through the cotton of his shirt.

He grinned, heat crawling up to his cheeks as the man quickly became chuffed. Mitch spoke with slight humour, “Yeah? What about when I don’t sing?”

“My favourite sound, ties first place with your morning voice. Super sexy.” 

He definitely was glowing now; his nose burning with the pinch of a warm blush, ears not too far behind. You built his confidence back up after it was burnt horrifically to the ground - you showed love, and care, praise, compliments. Mitch Rapp had never felt so goddamn loved in his life, and it took him a while to accept that he deserved it. But you made him see that he did.

Mitch chuckled, his tongue darting out to lap at the slight dryness of his lips, “You’re super sexy.”

With a turn of your head, your smile pressed against his back before puckered lips kissed between his shoulder blades, “Only for you. All yours.”

Her Outfit {Dylan O'Brien}

Author's Notes: This fic was based on Dylan at the premiere for The Outfit. The suit, the stubble. Perfect! Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Mentions of drinking, Smut*(established relationship, fingers, spanking, choking, unprotected sex - be safe out there, your choice how!)

Requested? Nope! Requests are open!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

It was the premiere of The Outfit and Dylan was feeling good. His suit fit well, he was confident in his project and he had his beautiful woman by his side. He was ready to go and face the world.

Dylan stood at the bar during the cocktail hour after the premiere, a glass of white wine in his hand. He kept the conversation at hand, but his eyes wandered across the room towards his woman in her tight black dress. His eyes locked with her backside and he quickly excused himself to go put his hands on her.

"Hey, gorgeous." Dylan mumbled as he wrapped his free arm around her wait, hand pressed to her stomach.

"Hi, handsome." She hummed as she turned around in his grasp to place her hands on his chest.

"Do you need a drink or anything?" Dylan questioned as he sipped his own glass of wine and scanned her cleavage in her dress.

"I'm okay right now, baby. I'm a little tipsy." She smiled as she hooked her index finger beneath the collar of shirt button up, feeling his warm skin.

"I can tell. I see you shaking your hips over here. You wanna go soon?" Dylan mumbled as he kissed her forehead. His body screamed at him for the tender gesture, it wanted more. Her soft skin, tight black dress and exposed cleavage. She had been playing a coy game with him all night. He loved it, but he was ready to feel her shaking underneath him.

"I will follow you anywhere, Mister." She hummed as she draped her arms over his shoulders and swayed from side to side.

"Let's get you home, gorgeous." Dylan smiled as he gently pushed a hand into her curled hair, and guided her face to his for a gentle, suitable for public kiss.

"We have to give Zoey a kiss goodbye first." She pouted as she held the collar of his jacket.

"Okay. Let's go find Zoey, and say goodbye." Dylan laughed softly as he laced his fingers with hers and led her through the party to find his friend and co-star.

After they said goodbye to Zoey, Dylan took his girlfriend home in a cab. The two of them snuggled close in the back while they touched and whispered in one another's ear.

"You're so handsome, Dylan." She whispered as she pressed her hands to his chest and nipped at his lips.

"You look like sex in this dress. I wanna eat you up." Dylan grunted as he pulled her hair and pushed a hand under her dress to feel her skin.

"Baby." She breathed out as Dylan trailed his lips over her throat, never pressing them to her skin like they both wanted. She moved her hands over his chest to grab hold of his collar, her knees falling apart slightly to let him know what she needed from him.

"I know, honey. I want you so bad it fucking hurts." Dylan growled in her ear as he fingertips ghosted over the damp spot of her panties. He pulled his hand out from under dress and pulled her knee over his lap.

The cab pulled up in front of the apartment, Dylan tossing a handful of cash through the front as he tugged her out of the car. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted her up, carrying her inside.

"Finally. Let me get a good look at you." Dylan mumbled as he placed her on the floor of their bedroom. He looked her over from head to toe, his eyes taking greedy scans of her breasts and thighs.

"Touch me, Dylan." She pouted as she reached for him, tugging at his suit jacket.

"You look like sex. Sound like it, too." Dylan grinned as he grabbed her hips and pulled her close. He sealed his lips to her neck, sucking a bruise on her skin as he pushed the hem of her dress up around her hips.

"Take my panties off, Dylan." She whined as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders, then reached for the buttons of his shirt.

"You take them off. Get on the bed and spread your legs. " Dylan ordered as he groped her backside, sinking his teeth into her neck. His heart ached a little when she pulled away from him, but he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as she tugged her panties down her legs and flop to the bed with her knees wide.

"Sex. You're pure fucking sex." Dylan growled as he dropped to his knees in front of the bed and tugged her ankles over his shoulders, a delicate kiss on each.

"Dylan." She whimpered as she propped herself up on her forearms to look down at him as he kissed her legs, up to her thighs, his tongue swirling over her skin.

"Turn over, gorgeous. Let me see this ass." Dylan grunted with a nip to her thigh before he stood up between her legs. He unbuttoned his shirt while he turned over to her hands and knees, an arch in her back for him.

"Dylan!" She gasped as he swatted her backside with his open palm.

"Tell me something." Dylan mumbled as he covered her body with his, kissing the back of her neck.

"What, baby?" She hummed as she reached for his hair and tugged, her hips rolling around for friction against his slacks.

"Are you this worked up because of me? Or because you think Zoey is sexy? Dylan growled as he bit her shoulder and pushed himself against her from behind.

"You, Dylan. It's all for you." She moaned out as she rubbed herself against him, her necked rolling back onto his shoulder.

"Good. I know she's pretty, but you'll only get slutty for me. Isn't that right, honey?" Dylan grunted as he let her grind back against him.

"I love you, Dylan. Be whatever you want." She whispered as he ghosted his fingers over her throat, then pushed his hand inside her dress to grab her chest.

"I know, honey. I fucking love you. Can I fuck you up your pretty dress?" Dylan mumbled as she licked the back of her neck, thumbing her nipples inside of her dress.

"Yes, Dylan." She hissed as she dropped her chest down to the mattress and rubbed herself all over his slacks, desperate for him. He growled as he grabbed between her legs, cupping her heat to assert his dominance making her drool as she desperately tried to fill herself with his fingers to ease the ache.

"I know, honey. I know." Dylan cooed as he slipped two fingers inside of her while his other hand freed himself from the confines of his pants.

"I need more, baby." She sobbed out as she pressed her cheek to the mattress and looked back at him, lip between her teeth. She reached for his wrist as he worked his fingers in and out of her, and Dylan swore he fell in love all over again.

"Say it. Tell me what you need, my sweet girl." Dylan mumbled as he pulled his fingers through her slick folds, and lined himself up with her entrance from behind.

"Fill me up, Dylan. Please." She whispered with the sweetest sob as her eyes fluttered shut, Dylan wasn't sure he would last.

Dylan growled from the pit of his stomach as he eased inside of her, gasping at the way her walls gripped his length when he bottomed out. His girlfriend whimpered as she tried to tug her dress off, but he hands covered hers and stopped her.

"Leave it. It looks like fucking latex on your body. Makes me so hot for you, honey. You're so sexy." Dylan groaned as he ran his hands down her sides and watched how she bounced back onto him.

"DYLAN!" She gasped with a smile as he smacked her backside and tugged her hips closer, his pace increasing.

"I love you so fucking much. You make me so fucking hot, honey. Damn." Dylan growled as he held her hips tightly, and aimed for that spot relentlessly from behind.

"D - Dylannn." She shivered as she came around him unexpectedly, hands twisted into the sheets as he rolled his hips into her.

"So fucking pretty, honey." Dylan panted as he chased his own orgasm, his body covering his while he reached a hand for her neck and gently, so gently squeezed the sides of her neck. With a loud groan and a rut of his hips, he came inside of her.

He pulled out of her as gently as he could before he took hold of her hips and rolled them onto the bed. He unzipped her dress as she rested her head against his chest, his pants still around his ankles as he caught his breath.

"So, you liked my movie then?" Dylan smirked with an exhale after a few minutes of silence.

**I have stopped doing a tag list for the time being. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for Dylan O'Brien, Andrew Garfield, Eddie Munson and Joseph Quinn are open!!! Requests for OBX are closed.