PLUG | STUART TWOMBLY (18+)

PLUG | STUART TWOMBLY (18+)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

DAY 8: ANAL

WARNINGS:

Sex Toys, Spanking, Anal, Praise and Begging.

stuart’s hands spread both of your ass cheeks, pulling the flesh apart to savour the sight of the pretty little jewel, snug between your cheeks, that glinted underneath the low light of your shared room. it was a shimmering silver that contrasted nicely with your skin. he gently slapped the sides of your ass watching as your hips swayed from side to side, enticing and hardening him even more.

teasingly, he slid his thumb underneath the jewel, pressing the tip of it against the handle, pushing it deeper inside you and listening to your sweet moans. your pleasured moans filled the room, bouncing of the walls, sounding like a symphony to his ears as he began to press and release his thumb against the toy, thrusting and shoving it inside you.

“you like that, sweetheart, hm? s’it feel good when i play with your ass like this?”

he groaned as you clenched around the plug, watching as you greedily took the pleasure he offered, swallowing the toy even more. still groping your pudgy flesh, he began to trail his fingers from your cunt up to the toy. circling your wetness around the rim.

“y’want my cock, baby?”

you screwed your eyes shut in frustration, begging, “yes, stuart! please! i want your cock.” the plug nudged at your insides, brushing through your walls to your cervix with every push of his thumb, pushing you closer and making you teeter on the edge. but it was nothing compared to the feeling of stuart’s cock pounding into your tight hole.

the phantom feeling of his length had you clenching and whining once again, aching for his length. you were desperate as you propped your arms up, looking over your shoulder and directly at him, preparing for the mouthful of begging for the hundredth time. but before you could even open your mouth, his infamous smug smirk was shot your way, as he pulled the plug form inside you, smooth and fast.

you keened forward at the emptiness, your nerves on fire as you were stretched a little, jaw open in pleasure. he set the toy down beside him on the mattress, picking up the bottle of lube and squirting a generous amount all over his cock, wrist pumping it visciously, his thumb slicking up his tip and wrist twisting around his length, crude squelching noises filing the room.his clean hand pushing you forward as he aimed your cock at your hole. the hot and heavy feeling of his cock resting at your opening.

“y’want my cock, baby?”

he pushed once again, dipping the head of his length inside finally and pulling back out as you whines in discontent. you seated your backside cheekily against his cock, trying to push back against him to slip it back inside you, only to receive a hard slap to your right cheek.

“beg, baby and then I’ll fuck your cute little ass.”

you sighed once again, breathing in deeply to ground yourself. “please, please, stu! i want your cock! i need you inside me.” you were so close, sobbing in desperation. finally you felt it. the large intrusion of his length filling you, as he pushed inside your ass.

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

STUART TWOMBLY TAGLIST: @bxrbie1 @greengarsstuff @hessafeelsfordayss @idylio24 @luhh-snow @oh-kurva @ohwowimlonley @queen-eleven @screambih @whoaskedgabby24 @xo-circe @yktfv18poisonlvy @5lutfordylanobrien @its-carlerrr @queenofmisc @steadygoopangelhairdo @lilygreennn

For the Team {DYLAN O'BRIEN}

Author's Notes: I wrote this almost one year ago when Dylan turned 30. But those new photos of him at that Mets game sent me searching..so, have this - Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are appreciated! Thank you! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drinking, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos, Smut*(Teasing, Choking, Some biting, Sub! Dylan ? Yeah, I'll wave that flag, Unprotected sex - please 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

Dylan laid on his back, eyes on the ceiling with his hands behind his head while his love rested her head on his chest.

"Do you feel different?" She whispered as she pulled her thigh across his waist, her fingers tracing over his pecs.

"Right now? My heart is racing, and I'm kind of tired again." Dylan smirked as he averted his eyes down to her.

"I meant now that you're 30, Dylan." She laughed as she shifted her body to straddle his hips, her hands on his chest for stability.

"No. Feel the same." Dylan shook his head as he ran his fingers down her bare back, shifting beneath her as he felt her still wet between her legs from their early morning roll around.

"You did wake me up at 6am before a Mets game to have sex." She smiled softly, her index finger running through the small patch of hair between his pecs.

"Trying to make you our good luck charm." Dylan smirked as he placed his hands on her waist and looked over the spattering of love bites and beard scratches on her neck and chest.

"For the whole team? That's a lot of pressure, Dylan." She giggled as he squeezed her sides then pulled his fingers down to her thighs.

"But you're magic. That's why you should come with me today. I know you don't like baseball, which is like your only flaw, but I promise I'll make it fun. I'll buy you beer, whatever you want." Dylan bargained while his fingertips traced small patterns on the tops of her thighs.

"It's so boring, though." She whined as she pressed her hands to his chest, her head tossed back dramatically.

"It is not! You just don't know what's going on. So, I'll educate your fine ass." Dylan laughed as he grabbed her backside and squeezed.

"For you. And because it's your birthday." She replied as she pulled her fingers down his chest.

"Fuck yes! Best birthday ever. Alright. Well, we have to leave in about two hours." Dylan smiled as he flipped her onto her back, positioning himself between her legs.

"Well, I should shower then. I'm all sticky." She grinned as she pressed her thighs to his hips and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"But I like you sticky. You smell like me." Dylan smirked, eyebrows raised as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.

"I can't imagine why." She scoffed as Dylan leaned down to press kisses along her neck, nipping at her skin after each kiss.

"Because you're mine." Dylan muttered against her neck, his tongue brushing over the bruise his teeth had left the night before.

"Dylan!" She gasped as she felt his fingers between her legs, brushing over her wet folds as he sucked a fresh bruise on her neck.

"One more time before we go?" Dylan breathed out before he licked over her broken skin.

"Yeah, baby. It's for the team." She laughed softly as she ran her fingers over the fuzz of his hair.

"Good girl." Dylan muttered against her neck as he slipped two fingers inside of her, pinning her hips down with his left hand while she squirmed.

"Dylan!" She gasped as she wrapped her arms around his neck while he sunk his fingers down to his knuckle, then curled them up.

"That it, honey?" Dylan breathed out as his beard scratched her neck, his fingers tapping that sweet, spongy spot inside of her.

"Yeah! Right there!" She nodded as she clawed his shoulders, spreading her thighs wider for him as she felt her orgasm approach.

"Are you gonna cum, honey?" Dylan muttered as he pressed his forehead to hers while he picked up the pace of his fingers.

"Yeah. M'gonna cum, Dylan." She nodded furiously, eyes wide as he gave a firm tap to her g-spot.

"Good. Cum for me, pretty girl." Dylan smiled as he reached the tip of his middle finger up to brush her spot, exhaling heavily as she came around his fingers and covered his hand in her release.

"Dylaaann." She moaned with a deep scratch to his chest as the aftershock coursed through her body while he pulled his fingers out of her, gently.

"I love you." Dylan muttered as he pressed a kiss to her throat, beard scratching over her soft skin.

"I love you, too." She exhaled as she used all her strength to flip him over to his back, pinning his wrists above his head to the pillows.

"Now what?" Dylan grinned with a raise of his eyebrows as he shifted beneath her. He let her keep his hands over his head, not minding that she had taken control.

"Your turn?" She breathed out as she shifted on top of his hard-on pressed between her thighs, rubbing herself over it.

"Honey.." Dylan grunted with a warning, struggling in her grip as she rubbed her slick folds over his cock. He was surprised at her show of strength when she pinned him back down.

"Keep your hands here, Dylan. Don't make me tie you up." She whispered as she released his wrists then pressed one hand to his chest for leverage while the other grabbed his aching manhood to line it up with her entrance.

"Can I help?" Dylan panted as he gripped the headboard above him, feeling her probe at her entrance with his tip. He wasn't sure if she was struggling with him, or trying to torture him. But he needed it to end.

"Got it. So big, Dylan." She whispered as her lips fell into the most kissable pout and Dylan felt distraught as she sunk down on to him completely.

"Honey, I don't know if I wanna play like this." Dylan breathed out as he rested his hands on the top of his head, and simple watched as his girlfriend rode him in the tiniest little bounces and circles. It was torture, fantastic torture.

"You always make me ride you and..and you just watch. Hands behind your head." She pouted as she pressed her hands to his abs to lift her herself up then drop back down.

"FUCK! I'm still in control then. Can still touch, guide your hips. Honey, go faster. Please." Dylan growled as he looked down to where he was buried inside of her and felt himself twitch. He didn't hate not having control, but he didn't love it either.

"No." She replied simply as she rolled her hips in wide, slow circles. She dropped to her hands above him and watched as his eyes rolled back.

"Can I touch you?" Dylan breathed out as he looked up at her pretty face over his. He let out a soft moan as he felt her muscles quiver around him, and all he wanted to do was put his tongue in her mouth.

"Fine. No spanking, though." She ordered breathlessly as she pressed her fingertips to his throat, choking him ever so gently.

Dylan fucking whined at her orders, but obliged, happy to finally be able to touch his woman as she rode him. He pulled his hands off the top of his head, gave her breasts a quick squeeze before he grabbed her backside with one hand while the other reached down to thumb her clit.

"Since when did my sweet girl start giving me orders, hmm?" Dylan muttered with a heavy breath as he rolled her clit with the pad of his thumb.

"Since it's your birthday, and I want you to cum." She whimpered as her hips chased his thumb as her orgasm approached, her walls squeezing him tighter with each bounce.

"You always make me cum." Dylan smirked as he gave her a firm thrust upwards on her downward bounce, making her eyes roll back.

"I..fuck, baby! I want you to cum how you make me cum." She gasped as he nudged her g-spot, her eyes wide as she gripped his throat.

"That's the beautiful thing about you being a woman. You can take multiple orgasms, and I wanna give them to you." Dylan rasped out with a gentle pinch to her clit to make her cum, smiling as she rode him back and forth to bring him with her.

"My sweet girl, so good tome. M'gonna cum, too. Can you hang on for a second?" Dylan growled as she coated his manhood with her release, his hands reaching for her backside to guide her along his length.

"Fill me up, O'Brien." She whispered as she dropped her head down to his shoulder and let him use her to finish himself off.

Dylan came inside of her with a ragged moan, his fingers keeping a bruising grip on her hips as he bounced her in hips lap.

"Fuuuck, honey. So good to me." Dylan growled as he pawed at her backside as he came down from his high, twitching inside of her.

"I love you, Dylan." She hummed as she kissed his neck.

"I love you more. Mmm. Baseball time?" Dylan mumbled with heavy eyes as she kissed along his neck and traced his hairline under the nape of his neck.

"You still wanna go after that?"

"It's my birthday. And it's for the team, honey." Dylan smirked as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder and playfully smacked her thigh.

She would learn the rules of baseball if it bored her to death. She was their good luck charm.

Hotties:

@samxslaughter @fashion-fasting @gillybear17 @truewdw1 @my-baexht-ls

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo Requests for Andrew Garfield and Dylan O'Brien ARE OPEN! Requests for OBX are currently closed at the moment.

BREATHE | HENIRICH TREADWAY (18+)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

DAY 4: CHOKING

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

CHOKING, PAIN PLAY, BREATH PLAY, FACE SLAPPING, DOM/SUB RELATIONSHIP.

“fuck, heinrich.” you squealed as he pushed you to the front door of your apartment. you were both clad in fancy clothes. a tuxedo adorning his body and even rings scattered on his fingers. his hand immediately clasped around your throat as his feet kicked yours spread. his fingers squeezed the sides of your throat as you tried to speak out.

“no, no, no, you don’t get to speak,” he taunted. “not after your attention seeking, deciding to tease me.”

his other hand had already creeped between your legs as he pinched your thigh, painfully. your body jerked at the pleasure clouding your brain already as you struggled to breath. his body pushed up close to you, the strength in his arms pulling you up the door to match his height as your legs closed around his thigh. the fingers that had pinched you had already pushed your panties aside, rubbing harsh, fast circles into your clit.

you were getting close way too fast, the teasing in the car had backfired and you’d only turned yourself on as he sped down the roads. he let go slightly, allowing you to breath in the hot air surrounding you both for a few seconds as you let him know you were close. your squealing and fidgeting in his hold made him smirk as he caught on to your advances, his fingers tightening again and pushing your head back as it bumped against the door a little.

“don’t you dare cum.”

he snarled at you, slipping two fingers inside you, continuing his rough pace. you deeply regretted teasing him. you knew the punishment he’d always give you, denial. but after the week your had you knew that pushing him was even worse and your throat would pay the price either way. you debated on disobeying him further, but then you really wouldn’t be able to breathe with your throat stuffed.

“this is what you get for disobeying me, princess.”

he growled, the nickname a mock in the way you’d whined, the hand on your throat left for a few seconds and a sharp slap to your face had you gasping at the demoed pleasure.

“you really don’t deserve to cum. maybe i shouldn’t let you cum tonight, i’m pretty sure whores don’t get to cum.”

his lips curved into a small smirk as he watched your eyes widen again, the laugh at the start of his sentence, making you wetter. your hands reached up to his wrist, clawing at his skin but the pain didn’t affect him. “no! no!” you stuttered out shakily as your legs starts to shake. he laughed at you fucked out expression.

“you’re not even trying to hold it, are you?”

he mocked again. he knew you couldn’t really talk too much since his hand was secured around your throat making it hard to breathe. he cut off your oxygen for a few seconds every minute or so before his digits loosened. he knew you secretly loved it, loved his dominance. you basically asked for it, especially after he warned you to stop teasing him.

“please.” you begged, your pride long gone as you watch his orbs darken. he finally gave up, just wanting to fuck you at this point. he’d had enough of your whines. so his leaned down sucking deep bruises into your delicate skin. your cunt was tightening and pulsing around his fingers, your juices crying and seeking out for more. he licked a hot stripe up to your ear whispering into your ear.

“cum. do it now. fucking cum!“

he squeezed your skin, nipping at that spot on your neck that finally had you cumming. the pleasure extremely overwhelming as his hand loosened, finally allowing you to breathe as you came down form your high. your body sagged against his as he lifted you from the floor and tossed you over his shoulder, walking to your bedroom where you knew he’d really have you choking.

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

Your writing has such a gorgeous quality to it, a pleasure to read! I have a little request, dylan has one of his zoom interviews coming up I’m thinking the buzzed hair/facial hair navy blue shirt when he’s on the couch… anyway you two are hanging out before it just on the couch and Dylan is feeling needy, wants to eat you out and make you cum as much as he can, not caring he has an interview coming up he wants this before anything else 🥰 all good is this isn’t your thing x

Dylan O'Brien x reader

Babe this is EXACTLY my thing <3 I hope u enjoy!

1.3k words

Dylan kisses your neck. His beard tickles the sensitive skin, and you reflexively tense up, shoulder bouncing to your cheek.

"Babe," you admonish, squeezing his thigh. "Pay attention to the show."

He pouts. "I know what happens. I'm in it."

"You were in two episodes. In a different season. You can't possibly know what's going on at this point in the story."

His arm slinks around your waist, hand splayed over your lower belly. One by one, his fingers slip under the hem of your sweatpants, caressing further and further down like he's testing how far you'll let him go. You relax into the warm touch, legs parting.

"I know it isn't as fun as this." He thumbs your clit.

"Dylan," escapes you like a needy moan rather than the reprimand you intended. You're too wound up to pull the brakes. "Fuck, keep going."

He presses his open mouth to your shoulder, and this time your head tilts away, offering your throat to him. Slow and slovenly, his lips follow your pulse to your ear. He nibbles the lobe, tugging it gently between his teeth, an unmatched distraction from the dramatic cliffhanger on screen.

The credits roll, and a pop-up counts down to the next episode. Dylan uses the spare seconds to check on the zoom call, which is still pitch black with the message "The event hasn't started yet." A glance at the clock: less than half an hour before the interview.

"We don't have time for another episode," he says, cursor hovering over the pause button. He looks at you for confirmation to switch it off, his smile as radiant and impish as the one that convinced you to say yes.

Two can play that game.

Simpering sweetly, demure, you straddle his lap and cling to his neck. Scraping the base of his skull, eyelashes fluttering, sigh fanning his lips. "Then what do we have time for, honey?"

"I can think of a few things," he all but growls. Hands on your waist, he licks his lips, staring at yours. "But right now I just wanna taste you, maybe see how many times I can make you come with my mouth."

"Are twenty minutes enough?" You grind down on the hard bulge in his pants. Sucking in a breath, Dylan throws you on the sofa, and you arch into the cushions with a giggly gasp.

"Why don't we find out?"

Hasty, he pulls your sweatpants to your ankles and lifts your legs over his shoulders. His beard scratches the tender flesh of your inner thigh. You lightly squeeze his head, nudging him down, and he kisses your pussy through your underwear.

"Aw, princess, the strawberry panties? Really?" He grins up at you, devilish. You want to buck into his mouth, to find friction against his tongue — but he holds your waist down, controlling the slightest twitch of your hips.

"What can I say," you sigh, much too needy and weak for how little he's actually done to you. "I know how mad you go for them."

He hums against your core. "Yeah, they're so cute. Wouldn't wanna ruin 'em."

Biting the strip of red coton, he swiftly slides it out of his way, your folds red and puffy for him to admire. Slick glistens at your entrance.

"God, you're already so wet, so pretty for me."

Dylan nuzzles between your thighs, nose pressed to your hip bone. You feel his tongue drag down, roaming tentatively along your pussy, grazing your clit; he knows each inch of you, has learnt exactly which spots to tease or lick or rub or prod.

The first time he ate you out, it was a true feast, a banquet of exciting novelties. All over the place, without any skill or method, experimental. He tried out different forces, rhythms, depths — shifting from one to the next at your cue. At this stage, the challenge isn't so much making you climax as it is how fast or how slowly he can bring about your blissful undoing.

His tongue strokes languid circles over your clit. He can't draw it out too much — deadline and all — but he'll be damned if he doesn't make even a quick and dirty rush feel like heaven itself.

When he picks up the pace, your bud gorging in desire, you toss your head back with a keen moan. "Fuck, Dyl, faster. Right here."

You try to roll your hips into his face, but he's got you pinned at his mercy. He answers with less contrarian rebellion than dreaded; teasing and licking around your clit, but never leaving you bereft. A final stroke of the flat of his tongue sends you over the edge.

"Good girl," he growls, and the vibration adds to the jolts of pleasure shaking your body. "That's it, come for me. Let me taste how good I worked you up."

Your come coats your walls and gushes onto his tongue. He laps at it hungrily, carefully nipping your folds as if it might draw out more of your sweet juices. With each touch, you quiver, thighs clenched on his head, vision black and star-burst.

As you float down from your high, you sigh in delight, "God, Dylan, you're so fucking good. That was amazing."

"That's one."

You make a little noise, neither quite a hum or a question.

"That's just the first," he says. His hooded gaze bores through you from beneath dark lashes. "You keep count for me, yeah, princess?"

This noise is very distinctly a whine. Needy and excited, but a whine all the same. You don't dare, don't want, to ask for a break, no matter how much your spent body demands it.

"Words, baby." He pinches your clit and you cry out. "Can you keep count?"

"Yes, yes, I will. We're at one."

"Good."

His mouth envelopes your oversensitive pussy and he hums your name lowly, then lower, then lower, as you arch off the sofa. The sucking and the trembling and the flicking of his tongue coax long mewls from your breathless lungs. Instinctively, you try to tangle your fingers through his hair, scraping his skull through the buzzcut.

You can't help observing him like he's on stage. Despite your weakened muscles, you crane your neck to admire his face, his glistening lips, his eyes so focused on your pleasure. You swear he never looks better than he does now.

He twirls his tongue in quick circles, and your legs clench against your will, heels kneading the dip of his back like a cat in heat. Gripping your ankles, he folds you up in half, knees on each side of your chest. When he licks your cunt again, reaching new nerves at this exposed angle, your head falls back into the cushions with a hoarse moan.

"Fuck, that's— that's it," you stammer, breaths ragged. "I'm — again — fuck, Dylan, I'm gonna come."

"So soon? You're making this too easy." He punctuates the taunt by trailing his thumb up your slit. "If you're already so wound up, maybe I shouldn't use my fingers. That would be cheating, don't you think?"

Your pussy flutters, walls clenching around nothing. You feel achingly empty, all of a sudden, desperate to be touched and filled by his slender digits.

"No, please, I need it," you whimper. "Need more of you."

"Just what I thought, you're such a needy little girl."

Despite his words, he slides two fingers within your core. You're so wet it's effortless, smooth, the pressure just right. He stretches you out and curls against your walls. Precise touches, thrusting and rubbing against that sweet spot, hot nerves coiling in you like wires waiting for that spark to light everything up.

His mouth and hands work together, their rhythms perfectly complementary. You cry and mewl incoherently, a mess of pleas, and he does everything you beg for like he reads your mind. You feel him wholly, in and out of you, pushing your senses deeper into rapture.

Your brain is so blissed out you miss the computer announcing the beginning of the interview. Dylan does hear it, however, and withdraws from you reluctantly.

"We'll finish this later, yeah?"

OML YOUR DOB IMAGINE IS *chefs kiss*. Could you do one with Mitch Rapp? I don't wanna pressure you it's your choice, but if you decide to do it can it be smut?

im a whore for him help

Truthfully, you know better. You really do.

Yet that doesn’t seem to stop you from finding your place in front of Mitch’s door that fateful Saturday night.

You know he’s in there. Heard him come back to the compound an hour or so ago. Had decided then that you wouldn’t let that night mean nothing. That you wouldn’t let what happened in the hallway be forgotten.

For days, you’ve been arguing with yourself that what he said—what he did—was merely the result of increased adrenaline and the thrill of success. That he was drunk. Drunk with power, drunk with alcohol, and drunk with the knowledge that he’d done what couldn’t be done. That’s all it was.

But no matter the excuse you create, you can’t shake the image from your head. Can’t erase the feel of his fingertips. Can’t erase the way he looked at you as you brushed the hair back from his forehead. Can’t erase the way his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “It’s always been you.”

The next, he’d acted as if it had never happened. As if he’d forgotten.

But it did happen. And you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

With a quick breath, your knuckles rap against the door. You wait for a moment, listening intently for any telltale signs of movement.

You hear the sound of rustling. Perhaps the shift of a sheet. The creak of a mattress.

But no footsteps.

You knock again before calling, “Mitch? It’s me, can we…can we talk?”

Another sound. Deeper. You lean closer, ear pressing to the wood as you attempt to decipher. It’s his voice, you know that much, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. Maybe he’s inviting you in. Maybe he’s inviting you to leave.

You can’t really be sure and the anxious hollow in your stomach merely intensifies with each passing second.

So, with a burst of self-assurance, you straighten up, twist the handle, and thrust the door open.

Your eyes find his first. That soft, golden brown you’re so used to. Comforting, almost. Familiar.

Then, you notice his hair. The way it’s fallen across his forehead, sweaty and disheveled. The way it drapes over his eyebrows as he peers across the room at you.

You notice the slight flush in his cheeks. The heave of his chest. Notice the nakedness of his skin, your gaze traveling down his clenched jaw toward the rapid ripple of his stomach.

And then…you see.

You see his hand, tight around his cock as he pumps up and down in a swift, urgent motion. 

For a moment, you’re not quite sure what to do. What to think. You stand, frozen in the doorway, eyes wide and heart racing as you watch him.

You expect him to stop. To cover. To feel just as startled as you do. 

Yet, he doesn’t.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t hide. Doesn’t attempt to excuse it away. Doesn’t even yell at you for coming into his room.

Instead…he groans.

And not the same groan you’re so used to hearing from him. Not a groan of exasperation or disapproval. 

A salacious groan. Lust-filled and needy. So desperate and depraved, you feel the way your stomach flips for an entirely different reason.

Now he’s not the only one flushed.

Your lips part, ready to call his name. Ask him what he’s doing. Maybe apologize for barging in.

And yet, there’s something in his expression that forces your feet to bring you further into the room. Closer to where he sits against the headboard with his legs strewn out before him.

He watches you like a hawk, following the movement as you slowly make your way to the right side of the bed.

You’re desperate to hear that sound again. Desperate to be a part of this moment. With him.

Your eyes flick down to his hand. The veins ever prominent in his arm as he squeezes the tip of his cock. As his head rolls back against the wall behind him and he sucks the air through his teeth in a hiss.

Mesmerized by the drip coating his knuckles, your fingers dance about the air as if reaching out for him.

But you slow, pulling back slightly as you look up. As you search for a sign. Permission. Encouragement.

You haven’t exchanged a single word thus far. And yet you almost know what he’d say even without him ever getting the chance to say it.

And you’re proven correct when your name is whispered from his lips like a promise, pulling you closer until you’re sitting directly next to his leg. 

Your pulse races. Skin hot as you watch him. Entranced by his beauty. By the clench of his jaw and the flutter of his lashes as the pleasure nearly overtakes him.

You’ve reached the point of no return. You don’t imagine you’ll ever forget this moment for the rest of your life. Don’t imagine you’ll ever be able to look at him again and not remember the way he looks like right now.

You don’t even realize that your legs have begun to part, your fingers subconsciously finding their way to your thighs as if desperate for your own relief.

But Mitch notices. Almost immediately. Watching the scratch of your nails along your sweatpants rather anxiously as another soft whine breaks free from his lips.

And before you really have a chance to stop yourself, your hand is slipping beneath the band of your sweats until you feel exactly how aroused you really are by this scene.

Your head drops, chin finding your chest as you take a slow, steady breath. Your touch is light. Quick. Dipping inside for only a moment until you suck in a sharp gasp. 

Mitch shifts beside you, straightening up as his rhythm begins to falter. “Shit…shit, lemme see. Please…please let me see.”

You lean back, palm finding the mattress behind you as you brace yourself and meet his eye.

However, instead of obliging to his request, you smirk, tugging your lip between your teeth as you curl your finger in once more.

Your jaw drops at the sensation. The ache. So sharp and blinding that you can’t resist the soft whimper you exhale.

Mitch’s teeth grit in response as he tugs at his cock once more, the sound clearly doing sinful things to his body and mind.

You tease him a bit more. Merely because you can. Because it’s him. And he so fucking deserves it after everything he’s done.

Your thumb finds your clit, the slightest amount of pressure enough to leave you jolting in response. Hand completely disappearing beneath your sweats as you feel yourself out, desperate for that rush.

“Fuck—” His resolve is crumbling, his motions becoming quick and focused. “Take ‘em off. Don’t make me ask you again.”

Your head shakes fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you indulge in the feel of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Suddenly, however, you feel a tight pressure around your wrist as you glance back up to see his hand, soaked and strained, tugging your arm closer.

You’re pulled forward, eyebrows flying up your forehead as you still about two inches from his face.

His breath, labored and stressed, tickles at the hairs near your cheeks as his dark stare finds yours.

“You’re gonna take them off,” he repeats lowly, and you can feel the chill run down your spine. “And then you’re gonna take me down that pretty little throat.”

You can do nothing but melt into the feel of his rough touch around your hand, so aroused from such a simple action that your brain begins to spin.

“Is that understood?” he asks now before his eyes quickly fall to your lips and you’re left to pant desperately.

You can do nothing but nod, the softest whimper slipping out once he lets go and your chest deflates.

“Good girl,” he murmurs proudly before nodding his chin at you and smirking. “Go on.”

So…

You do.

Full Masterlist

Dylan O'Brien NSFW Alphabet

Author's Notes: I hope you all love this. I had a ton of fun writing this. Maybe too much.. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are appreciated! Thank you! xoxo

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing, References to fist fights, Smut* (Bondage, choking, over-stimulation, aftercare, public sex, biting, spanking, masturbation and mutual masturbation, oral sex)

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

A is for: Aftercare- what they're like after sex

Soft. So fucking soft. No one has ever taken care of you like he does, in life or in love. Once everything is done, breath is even once more and the sweat is dried on your bodies, he is softer than the pillow that holds your head up. He just wants to take care of you, touch you. If you're in bed together, your head is more than likely resting on his chest as he run his fingertips over your scalp or kisses the top of your head. He likes to run his palms over your body, soothing any irritated skin if it was a particularly rough session. He also just really, really likes touching you.

B is for: Body part - their/ your favourite body part

Yes, he is very much an ass man. He likes how you back it up into him when you dance at a bar, or even when you're just hanging out with friends and you're kind of needy for his attention. And yeah, he likes taking a full handful when he's got you from behind. But he also really loves your shoulders. No, really. It's not even a sexual thing, he just thinks they're pretty and he knows that you can be self conscious about them so that makes him love them more. He likes to just kiss along your shoulder when you're pressed against him in bed, or in the shower. Or just give a little love bite when he walks by you to make you smile, and because you're his.

For you? Those hands of his are definitely Godly. And you have a habit of telling him so. Obviously when he's got them deep inside of you, curled just right, it's another level of existence. And you swear you've seen the other side, a handful of times. Godly. Again, though, it's not just sexual. It's the way he holds your face when he kisses you, or traces your skin post - sex. Or even just holds your hand, his fingers laced between yours. It's comforting. Those hands are a comfort in a way that cannot be explained.

C is for: Cum - anything to do with cum

He likes cumming inside of you, because of the intimacy of it all. He's not entirely sure where he stands on fatherhood, but he's not opposed to being your baby's daddy either. He doesn't do it every time, though. Other places of preference are those thighs and your back (and he has on more than one occasion licked your back after cumming on it)

D is for: Dirty secret - a dirty secret of theirs

He wants to have sex in public, really bad. There's something about having his girl absolutely wrecked for him, unable to keep quiet, with other people around (they can be strangers, he doesn't care) that makes him so fucking hot. It could be the bathroom of a bar you guys frequent, the back of his car, in the changing room of some upscale store. Anywhere that would force him to pocket your underwear, press you to a wall and pretend like he wanted you to be quiet. But he didn't. The louder the better, it was a tremendous boost for his ego. It's not even about getting caught, he could handle that. He's a pretty smooth talker. It's just the high of fucking in public and having people hear him satisfy his woman without a shadow of a doubt and then go back to his night while he holds you upright and steady.

E is for: Experience (how experienced they are? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's got some experience - "been around the block" a few times, as some would say. But what makes him so good is that he just wants to know, wants to learn your body. You get the feeling that even if he had never been with anyone before (yeah, right. have you seen that man?) he would be absolutely dedicated to finding out what makes you tick, what makes you feel good. It's a high all of its own for him to watch you fall apart.

F is for: Favourite Position

Honestly...Dylan just likes to fuck. As long as he has you, and access to the things he needs and really wants - he's good. But for the sake of answering your question...reverse cowgirl. He likes to watch your ass bounce against his abs, likes that he can just reach forward and your plump backside is right there for him. Okay, so he likes this position so much he may have put a mirror at the end of the bed so he could watch your face, watch you touch yourself as you ride him. He would just rest his head on his hands and watch you in that mirror until he felt like grabbing a handful of that ass, then sit up with his chest to your back and help you bring it home.

G is for: Goofy (are they more serious/humorous?)

He likes to make you smile, let you know that it's okay to have fun and let you loose. In fact, he prefers that you not take it so seriously. So his silliness translates to the bedroom as well. If one of you stumbles or falls mid -act, it's not a big deal. He smiles and flips you over, or picks you back up, and keeps going. It's just sex, honey.

H is for: Hair (groomed or not, does the carpet match the drapes…)

When he wasn't dating anyone seriously he didn't really care, he still doesn't. But he cares what you like, and what you're comfortable with. But you happen to like the hair between his pecs, and the trail of hair from his navel below his belt. So, he trims it down just to clean it up and so it doesn't bother you too much when you're down there. It also really makes him smile when you run your fingertips through the patch of hair between his pecs in the morning, or how you pretend like you hate it when you rubs his scruff your neck - you're such a bad liar.

I is for: Intimacy (what are they like in the moment?)

Despite being a little silly, he's also incredibly intimate. He loves to pin your hands over your head, press his forehead to yours and take it slow so you can feel his love, his sincerity. He likes to kiss down your neck, along your shoulders and whisper all the things he loves about you - ranging from how you squeeze his cock when he's buried inside of you to how soft your skin is, your beaming smile, your sweet eyes. Honey, he's fucking smitten with you.

J is for: Jack Off (masturbation head canon)

When he first met you, and before you two were dating and actually sleeping together he could not keep his hands off himself. Genuinely, he felt like he was 16 years old and it was fucking frustrating. He had to talk to himself out of putting his hands in his pants, go take a cold shower and calm down.

Then you two finally got together he didn't need his hands anymore, only when he was away from you. And even then it was kind of lazy, just enough to get him off until he's home with you. But he really likes the idea of mutual masturbation, side by side or across the room. You watching him, and him watching you as you talk each other through it. That's where his mind is at this point in his life.

& K is for: Kinks (one or more kinks)

Hair pulling (you pull his, he pulls yours. It's great)

Over-stimulation (not something he frequents, but he likes to play around)

Light bondage (handcuffs, and rope often make an appearance) He's been working on his knots when he has some down time, it's oddly calming for him. And if you're down, he'd like to give Shibari a go one day..

Choking! He thinks you're the prettiest girl in the world with his fingers around your neck (he loves you even more when you stick that tongue out and try to lick his fingers.)

Biting! Hickeys! Baby wants to claim you.

Spanking. He loves to smack that ass, in bed and out of it. He likes to dole out a smack or two when he walks by when you're bent over tidying up in the kitchen just as much as when you're on all fours in bed for him.

L is for: Location (favourite place to do it)

He's got two personal favourites other than "old faithful" (the bed). He likes the couch for purposes of you riding him. You get nice and close sitting there on his lap, either chest to chest or your back to his chest. Or he honestly, really likes to fuck on the floor. There's something about getting you on your back on the floor of the kitchen, or the living room, spreading those thighs and putting in the work. Maybe it's all the room around you two, knowing that he can just roll one way or the other and you'll be fine. But he is known for taking you down in the kitchen because, "your butt looks good in those jeans."

M is for: Motivation (what turns them on the most)

Perhaps it's cliche of him to say it, but it's you. It's always been you. The sounds you make for him, the way you breathe his name, the way your body curls into his when you kisses you. It all just gets him going. But he really does like it when you stand on your toes to get close to his height when he's kissing you, and breathe his name into his mouth. No lingerie, no set of handcuffs or coil of rope could turn him on the way that does. He's lost count of how many times you've said his name, all breathy like that, and he's just sat you on the nearest surface and fucked you senseless. It does something to him, igniting him to his core.

Dylan..

N is for: NO (something they wouldn’t do)

Bringing someone else into your bedroom is a Hell-Fucking-No for Dylan. He doesn't care who it is, they aren't stepping foot over the threshold of your bedroom. He's territorial, and refuses to share OR watch you with someone else. Watching you touch yourself? Sure. That's a show he'd watch all day. Watching you fuck someone else? He would seriously rather fucking die. The idea of it makes his heart ache and his skin crawl.

O is for: Oral (preference in giving/receiving)

Oh, please don't make him choose. Remember that mirror across the room we talked about before? He loves watching you suck his cock in the mirror across the room while you kneel on the bed, ass in the air. That's another one of the reasons he put that mirror over there - to watch you suck him off. He gets to see to curl of your toes, the clench of your thighs and the flutter of your lashes in a way he probably wouldn't without said mirror. So....

On the other hand, Dylan really loves to pin those thighs down and eat you like the meal you fucking are. He's messy, and greedy. Not afraid to pull your legs over his shoulders and rub his beard over your thighs, an absolutely delicious sting on your skin. He likes to hold your hands when he's got his face between your thighs, letting you squeeze his fingers as you arch your hips into his face. It's intimate and kind of hot.

But for the sake of choosing, and being difficult, he picks both. Let's just 69 all night, honey.

P is for: Pace (fast and rough/slow and sensual)

He likes both, honestly. And it depends on his mood/ the situation leading up to him getting between your legs. But he's becoming more and more fond of the slow and sensual kind of sex. He likes to take his time, touch your body from the soft hairs on the top of your head to the pretty paint on the tips of your toes. He realizes that taking it slow, pinning your hands above your head and getting as deep as he can is just as satisfying, just as rewarding - if not more so - than those rough, fast paced nights where he's got you face down, ass up. He likes those nights, too. Don't you dare get it twisted, honey.

Q is for: Quickies (how fond they are of quickies)

Does not hate them, and will not turn down the opportunity to have you pressed up against a wall and wrapped around him. Sometimes that's just the name of the game if he's away and you have limited together. 20 minutes alone will be the best you can get, so he's got you posted up in the nearest, most secluded room he can find. And sometimes, he's just really in the mood and cannot wait to be at home. So, that secluded room comes in handy. Again, he doesn't hate them.

R is for: Risk (do they like to experiment?)

He errs on the side of caution, mostly because he doesn't want to put you in a position that would make you uncomfortable. But if you ask him, he's more than likely to say yes. He just doesn't want you to do something because you think it's what he wants. He considers himself a pretty open guy, willing to try new things. To be honest the addition of rope into your bedroom routine was your idea and not his. And he became quite fond of it after he realized it wasn't actual rope that could hurt you, but soft satiny rope for just this purpose. And that's how he started working on his knots..

S is for: Stamina (how long do they last)

He's good for at least two rounds, depending on how rough or intense. But more than likely you're going around twice and that doesn't count him with his face between your thighs. When he drinks it's usually only once, but it's no less intense than it would be any other time. You're still at the finish line telling him, "You're an animal, O'Brien."

T is for: Toy (do they like them or own some?)

He doesn't own a lot of toys as far as like, vibrators and dildos. He's not opposed to them, exactly. He just doesn't really feel the need to have them around quite yet. He's got the cuffs, the rope and a cute little clit vibrator for you that fits right on the tip of his middle finger. And that's about all he's got in his arsenal, but he's not against growing the collection. In fact, there was a time you had drunkenly told him that you wanted to get him a cock-ring. And he forgot pretty well everything that wasn't you standing in front of him, half naked with those platform pumps on. He wasn't sure when it would happen, but he would let you put a ring on him if you wanted.....

U is for: Unfair (how much of a tease)

He's an asshole. That's how much of a tease he is. He loves to tease and touch, make you think you're going to get it and then leave you hanging. On more than one occasion he's had you perched on his lap, fingers between your legs with a lazy little flick of your clit while you begged for more after hours of (what you would consider) torture.

"You don't like it?" He would hum into your neck with a little rub of his scruffy chin against your skin, fingers alternating between that lazy flick and a figure eight.

"You know I do."

He also just really likes to tease in the way that - oh, you think he looks sexy in those grey sweatpants? Alright, honey. Let me wear just those around the house. Nice and low on my hips.

Tease.

V is for: Volume (how loud they are)

He's fairly loud, lots of pants and groans as he works you two through it. He likes dirty talk, too. He likes to look at your face and watch your eyes get wide when he tells you how good your pussy feels around him. He noticed pretty early on in your sexual relationship that the louder he is, the louder you are. So he makes it a point to be loud because he wants to hear from you, wants to know that he's doing well for you. He wants to hear your moans, whimpers and whines.

W is for: Wild Card (random headcanon)

He's incredibly territorial. Like, will not hesitate to put a guy on his back if he looks at you the wrong way. What's Dylan's is Dylan's and he will make it known, he doesn't care who might be watching over his shoulder. He's gotten a lot better over the last year or so that you've been together, not so many almost brawls. He gets that snarl in his upper lip, twitch in his brow and his hand is on the back of your neck to remind you, and informing those around you, where you belong. Those are the nights he usually cuffs your hands behind your back, your chest pressed to the mattress, ass in the air while he doles out spank after spank asking you, "who do you belong to?"

And it's a question that demands an answer every single time.

X is for: X-Ray (what’s going on down below)

He's above average at almost 8 inches (very proud of it, thank you very much) and he knows exactly how to use it. He knows how to swivel his hips so he hits that spot and make your toes curl. And he's thick, like...take your breath away thick. You're not sure you'll ever get used to him and that first thrust, but that's just fine with you.

Y is for: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He is a ball of energy, especially these days. And he seemingly has the sex drive to match it. He always had a high sex drive - just a particular look, or the raise of an eyebrow and he was good to go. You weren't sure if it was because he turned 30 or what, but lately he was insatiable. It's difficult to keep up with him, but damnit - you'll try.

Z is for: Zzz (do they fall asleep after it)

He doesn't fall asleep right after, no. Honestly more often than not it's like an energizer for him. He's the King of early morning sex, it just puts him in the right frame of mind for the day. And at night once you're calmed down and one with the mattress, he usually climbs out of bed, goes hunting for a snack and watches MLB highlights. His two favourite things - you and baseball. Doesn't get much better than that, honey.

Hotties:

@fashion-fasting @sugarcoatedjj @gillybear17 @truewdw1 @samxslaughter @my-baexht-ls

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for Andrew Garfield and Dylan O'Brien ARE OPEN! Requests for OBX are currently closed.